#secondly fragrance

[kookslastbutton]

Reflections ༓ kth (m) | "Stay with me until the end of the day"

✑ Summary: As a new hire at one of the most prestigious jewelry brands in the world; Adrien & Rosamel in Paris, you've been trying to build your professional portfolio for months. So when global brand ambassador Kim Taehyung comes in for a photoshoot but his personal photographer is unavailable, the company offers the gig to you. Oh of course you take it in a heartbeat—it's a given.

pairing: brand ambassador!Taehyung x new photographer!reader

genre/AU: fluff, angst, smut, photography au, modeling au, s2l, two part series (duology?)

word count: 11.3k

warnings: exposes "dark side" of fashion world, oc gets insulted by fashion assistants (b-word dropped once but our oc bites back), flirty yet annoying videographer!kook, angry!seokjin, sunshine!stylist!hobi, charming!makeup artist!jimin, cool manager!joonie, Taehyung is an elegant flirt and not like the others, jazz bar date🥺, Taehyung calls her darling a lot, tehyung gets jealous, talk about long distance relationship, sexual content

sexual warnings: dom!Taehyung, sub!reader, explicit sex (use of condom), big dick!tae (it takes a bit to get it all the way in 😬), praise kink, lingerie, small jewelry kink? (He f's oc with their ruby necklace on), doggy, size kink, multiple org*sms, squ*rting, oral (f. Receiving), half a hand*b, f*ngering, overstimulation, little bit of breastplay, cussing, d*rtytalk, foreplay, a little expressiveness, mention of aftercare, Taehyung just adores hers, hot car make out, mention of morning s*x

now playing: Slow Dancing by thv

a/n: first omg i never reached 11k in my life. Secondly, shoutout to anyone who has seen Devil Wears Prada...a personal favorite of mine. Also Layover is omg the best thing ever! So i decided to focus on slow dancing for this fic. Pls enjoy ❤

part one | part two

How many twenty-something-year-olds can say they work at one of the biggest, most luxurious jewelry & fragrance brands in the world? And on top of that, are located in the fashion capital; Paris, France? A rare handful, and it's because of those reasons that they're given the lowest positions possible; you being one of them.

Sure, climbing the corporate ladder is possible with years of relentless dedication, raw talent, and of course, let's not forget connections with the higher-ups. But competition grows fiercer with each passing year as more eager young people gun for advancements in hopes of survival.

After all, who can afford to be stuck on the bottom rung forever?

You didn't want to believe the undertone theme in the critically acclaimed movie The Devil Wears Prada was true, that underneath the glitz and glam of haute couture are ruthless, cutthroat fashion moguls. But from the moment you stepped through the doors of Adrien & Rosamel in your coffee brown slacks and beige button down shirt, it couldn't be refuted–

No one was your friend and no one wanted to be.

Newbies must establish their professional value to the brand as early as possible to prevent being cut at any given moment. On the other hand, experienced professionals who have already earned their merit through decades of labor refuse to give up the stake to their claim and must be careful not to have the carpet swept from under their feet to a junior half their age.

It's a vicious race and despite its bitter nature, you're at the very heart of it.

As a fashion photographer, your ultimate goal is to have weeks' worth of sessions with models from all over the world; all adorned with timeless pieces from genuine gold watches to the richest of gemstones.

These are the types of photographers who are the best and brightest in the industry. They have at least ten years of experience and are booked until the very last second with modeling photoshoots.

The odd prodigy exist too; individuals who are born with an insane wealth of insight and skill which allow them to move up in rank faster.

You wish you were good enough to be considered a prodigy but no such luck. Adrien & Rosamel have insanely high standards on who is allowed to handle the jewelry, let alone be around the models who are so-called showcasing them.

So here you are day what—241? And still stuck taking photos of the same jewelry pieces day in and day out. Sure the theme of the photos gets changed slightly but it's been eight months of this generic work and truth be told, you're getting sick of it.

.

"__!" Seokjin, your coworker and one of A&R's jewelry polishers calls your name anxiously. He rushes to your side where you're taking close-up photos of a limited-edition steel watch. "Be gentle with this, will you? This is selling for 7,000 euros which means $8,000, 10 million south korean won, and 6,000 pounds. I also just finished polishing it so don't be getting your grubby fingerprints all over it!"

You roll your eyes and continue to move the watch around on the display table until you get a perfect angle. "Relax princess, I'm barely touching it and I have gloves on."

Seokjin's fluffy eyebrows furrow together, face scrunching at the nickname you chose for him. "That's—that's completely uncalled for! Do you know how long I spent buffering the face of the watch alone?! One hour __!"

You hate yourself from bursting out in laughter but this isn't the first time you've gotten lectured by Seokjin. Its like the tiniest detail would set him off. Seokjin's been with the brand a little longer than you; a year now, but he still has that constant need to micromanage everyone he can.

"Look," he continues his scold. "If anything happens to these priceless watches it's my head on the chopping block. I can't afford to lose my job __!"

"Yes, I understand Seokjin. Nothing will happen to these alright?" You move around the man to get more pictures of the watch lying elegantly on its side. "Don't you have about fifty other watches to shine or do you like nitpicking my every movement instead?"

Seokjin scoffs at you, sticks his hands on his hip and walks away with a disapproving shake of his head. "I have my eye on you junior," he warns.

You ignore his subtle jab and continue taking photos. "Creep," you mutter under your breath.

Ten minutes pass and you're about ready to move on to the editing process for your photos. You take a quick peek at them through your camera, clicking through the gallery with the right arrow button.

"Not bad newbie," you hear a voice come from over your shoulder that causes you to jump in surprise.

"What the fuck Jeon," you throw your best side-eye at the young man who happens to be your only acquaintance in the whole company. His role was similar to yours, but instead of photographing jewelry he films them; he's a videographer. "I'm beginning to think you like sneaking up on me on purpose."

The young man laughs with a child-like energy. "What can I say? Seeing you flustered does something to me. But actually, I was just passing by. Haven't talked to you in a while."

Come to think of it he has a point. You haven't seen Jeon Jungkook in about two weeks straight. The two of you aren't friends so you don't check up on each other constantly but you'd like to think you have good rapport.

"What have you been up to anyway? I've seen you rushing around the place like you have millions of appointments to make," you ask.

"I've become a busy man babe," he replies with a cheeky grin. "The higher-ups have noticed my talent and I'm playing with the big boys now."

"You talk about the higher-ups like they're Big Brother or something. Come on, tell me again but in laymen terms."

He sighs at the need to repeat himself. "Okay, listen. I'm working with the models now and more specifically I have a 2 o'clock gig with Kim Taehyung tomorrow. You know, our global ambassador? I'm shooting the film portion of the campaign we're running for him. Isn't that insane?!" His eyes glow up at the mere mention of Kim Taehyung who you are well aware of.

Everything about your famed global ambassador is a fashion photographer's dream; tall, lean, and tantalizingly handsome.

"Of course, I know who Kim Taehyung is. His face is plastered all over the walls of Adrien & Rosamel. Even saw his face on one of our company mugs. Anyone who's anyone will sell their left kidney to breathe in the same room with him but how the heck did you land a shoot with him this early? You've been here for less time than me!"

You're not shouting, you promise. Just extremely envious at the continuous luck Jungkook is having.

"Well," he starts drawling his words. "I might have gotten close with Park Ji-hun over the last month or so. His daughter in particular." You raise your eyebrows in awe.

Park Ji-hun has been Kim Taehyung's personal photographer for nearly ten years. And next to the model himself, he's another highly talked about individual at Adrien & Rosamel.

"Please tell me you didn't use his daughter for your own professional gain," you interject. Jungkook waves his hands around disapprovingly at your suspicion.

"I didn't, we went out on a blind date. I didn't know who her father was until half-way through the date."

"Mhm, something tells me that that's not completely true."

"Okay, so maybe her name sounded a little familiar but I swear, I didn't know they were the same person. But long story short, we started going out and I managed to win her father's approval. And now he's letting me shoot with him!" Jungkook's enthusiasm dies when he sees you doing your best to give a tight-lipped smile. "Babe, listen. I know you and I had a thing a few months back but....you're not still pining over me are you?"

You shove him in the shoulder at the ridiculous question. "We never had a thing. Stop it. I'm just trying to wrap my mind around your recent success."

Jungkook shrugs. "I guess its fate. And we definitely had a thing," he gives a wink. "Well anyway, I need to get to another appointment in ten. Jimin's gonna completely flip if I'm late."

Your mouth gapes open. "You're working with Park Jimin too? He's one of our best makeup artists, what the hell?"

"There are many colors that suit you __. Green's not one of them." Jungkook spins himself around and walks away from you. "Catch you later!"

"Goddamnit," you curse to yourself. "Is he Mr. Perfect or something?"

"__, we're gonna need the space in about five minutes." Another photographer calls from behind you, reminding you that you need to make yourself scarce.

The next morning is absolute madness with the news of Kim Taehyung's arrival in Paris.

As one of the most iconic brand ambassadors and haute couture models, he has quite an impressive fan following from countries all over the world including France. From the moment he steps out of his plane until the minute he enters Adrien & Rosamel, the man is constantly surrounded by masses of people all standing around with their phone cameras.

The company doesn't exactly give him a break from the high intensity of the crowd either. All the assistants working today are tasked with both meeting his requests and socializing with him while the rest of the team hauls around studio equipment for his photoshoot.

"Did you see the way he looked at me Ha-rin?" You overhear one of the assistants boast to the other while passing in the hallway. "I've had such a crush on him for years and I finally have the chance to meet him. I swear, I'll do anything he asks me to do."

"Oh my god, how dense can you be? Sure he smiled at you but let's not forget who it was he asked to get water from," the second woman spats back, raising the unopened bottle of water in her left hand. "It was me. I'm the one he wanted."

You snort at how snarky the two of them are to each other. As if Kim Taehyung would give so much of a blink their way let alone "want" either of them. You've never met the man but you've seen his face enough to know he could have anyone he desired. And it sure as hell wasn't going to be anyone from the company.

"Excuse me," Ha-rin stops in her tracks and speaks in your direction. "Is there something you find funny?"

"I'm sorry?" You freeze in place, unsure of what the woman's referring to.

"Don't play coy junior. You snorted at us, kinda nosy to be listening in on a private conversation."

Fuck sake, you are getting so tried of everyone calling you junior. You weren't given the name __ for it to be ignored at will.

"My apologies if it seemed that way. I assure you I was thinking of other matters." Your Majesty, you wanted to add but didn't.

Ha-rin body scans you as you speak and it immediately makes you feel self-conscious. The way she purses her lips can't be anything but venom that's about to spit out at you. "It better be that way. And by the way, those pants don't do anything for you. Maybe wear a dress next time," she slithers.

"Oh you mean like the dress you're wearing?" you reply. "No thanks. I'm not looking to impress anyone here. I have to get back to work now so you'll both excuse me," you bid them adieu and continue walking down to your office.

"What a bitch," you overhear one of them say and you clench your fists with tears brimming underneath your eyes.

Don't you dare cry __. Not here.

So some of your eye makeup got smudged from your incident with thing 1 and thing 2. You hate how much such a shallow jab got to you but, you're only human.

Coming into such a luxe company you expected this type of behavior. Yet your dreams are so much bigger than them. You'll push through like always.

"Hey," a knock pounds on your door. "Need to talk to you. Busy?" Its you manager Namjoon.

"No." You give him your full attention. "What's going on?"

Namjoon closes his eyes in a desperate attempt to calm himself down. "We have a situation," he starts.

"Okay...what happened Joon?"

"Our shoot with Kim Taehyung is in less than an hour and Park Ji-hun is nowhere to be found in the building. We called him up and looks like he had another shoot scheduled during the same slot. Must have been an overlook on our part, his part, I don't care whose fault it is. But we need someone to fill in right now or we're not going to have any material for our campaign." It comes out all at once and the feeling of whiplash washes over you.

"On top of that," he continues, "I don't want to waste monsieur's time. He just flew 14 hours from Seoul. So, can you do it or no?"

Oh my god...you repeat at least twice in your head before forming a response.

"I'd be very grateful for this opportunity but shouldn't this go to the next best photographer available? I only shoot jewelry on its own. I've never done—"

"You are our next best option __. All our photographers are booked with other models for the next three months. You've been here long enough to know how packed schedules get. Please, I've seen your work. It's good. And if you want an in for your career, I'd grab your camera and meet Kim in the studio in two minutes."

"Well I—"

"Yes or no __? Because I can always give the opportunity to another jewelry photographer. I'd rather not because they're techniques not as good as yours but I'll do it if I have to."

Your mind scrambles for a concise answer. You've been working towards something like this for months, doing your best to perfect your craft in hopes the higher-ups might recognize you as they did Jungkook. Yet until now it's been null; no one has made you such an important offer.

"I'll grab my equipment and meet you all in the studio," you decide. Your manager nods in approval and moves to exit your office.

"That's what I was hoping to hear. You'll be working closely with Jungkook, Jimin, and Hoseok. I'm sure you're familiar with them, no?"

"Yes sir," you reply. "Quite familiar."

"Jung Hoseok," the man with likely the brightest and most genuine smile you've ever seen shakes your hand. "I'm Kim Taehyung's stylist for this shoot. We're going for laid-back, yet elegant and refined for the studio shoot. Tomorrow we'll go with a completely free theme when we shoot at the beach. I have some specific fashion pieces picked out that I think he'll make pop for this campaign."

"That sounds great Hoseok. I wasn't aware we were going to a location tomorrow though." You don't mean to sound naive but you really were just thrown into this only minutes ago.

He lets go of your hand after the quick shake. "Yes, we have a two-day shoot planned. I know this is all news to you as of five minutes ago. And I'll do my best to help I'm any way I can. Park Ji-hun believes that the jewelry pieces and cologne picked out for Taehyung will be best suited in two places. One, in the studio to highlight the jewelry and two, at the beach to create an atmosphere for the cologne."

"Makes sense, thank you for filling me in."

"Like I said, I'm going to do as much as I can to help. Jimin get over here and introduce yourself to __." He calls to the pink hair boy who's busy sorting through his makeup palettes.

"Park Jimin," he walks over to you and also shakes your hand. "Makeup artist. Jungkook's told me about you."

"Oh god," you slip out and everyone chuckles. "Do I need to go hide somewhere now?" Who knows what Jungkook's said about you. Looks like he really is trying to get cozy with as many people as he can here.

"No no," Jimin waves of your slight embarrassment. "He just said you're an acquaintance that's all." You want to believe him but the smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth has you second-guessing.

It's not like Jungkook has a lot of beef with you or "secrets" to spill. He just had a big mouth, flirted with everyone in sight his first three months at the company and you happened to be his first target.

But no biggie. He's dating Park Ji-hun's daughter now, right?

"Love," it's Jimin's voice again. "Don't take this as any offense but I think you need a touch-up. Half your makeup's wiped from your face. Let me fix it for you okay?"

Well if you weren't embarrassed before you are now. Jimin's a professional make-up artist, surely his eyes are fine-tuned to the human face and pick up on make-up inconsistencies.

"Sure," you give in. "That'd be great."

Jimin walks over to his pile of make-up supplies and grabs a classic black eyeliner. "Close your lids," he tells you softly. He gently draws a wing over the lid that needs the most help and then, reaches for an eyeshadow that matches the other eye. "Okay, almost there. Just a few more brushes of this and you'll be good to go."

Though your eyes are closed you can easily distinguish the sound of a third voice.

"So you said yes huh?" Jungkook nears you and Jimin with a cheesy grin. "Now who's moving up in the world?"

"This is our first time working together Jeon," you reply. "Let's keep things professional shall we?"

"Oh please, you should be thanking me instead of giving me pointers on how our professional relationship should be." Jungkook snaps back and you stiffen at his words.

"Thank you? For what?"

"Namjoon didn't mention who exactly dropped your name as a potential candidate to clear up this little mess of ours? When Ji-hun told us he accidentally double-booked I immediately suggested you. I'm hurt you didn't know." He puts his hands over his heart as if pretending to be in pain.

"Wow, well you're right. I suppose I owe you my thanks." And here you thought people only looked out for themselves. Still, it's not like you and Jungkook are gunning for the same position. Him helping you doesn't exactly put him at a disadvantage.

You do feel more pressured to do well for this shoot though. Not only is it your first model shoot, and with all people, it happens to be with Kim Taehyung but it'll backfire on Jungkook if the photos you capture turn up bad. You don't want to imagine what that'll do to both of your professional credibility.

"Alright you're good as new love," Jimin pipes up. You open your eyes and mouth a thank you but you find the words turn into gibberish as the man of the hour finally rounds the corner of the studio.

"Monsieur," Hoseok is the first to greet Kim Taehyung as he enters the space. "Good to see you again."

"How are you Hobi?" Such an endearing nickname comes from a deep, honey voice. It charms your ears. Kim Taehyung stands straight with one hand in the pocket of his loose black slacks while the other rests near the edge of his matching black blazer. It's oversized with a basic, yet clean white t-shirt. Elegant yet, relaxed.

"Doing well, thank you. But I'm afraid you'll need to change out of these clothes soon. We have a perfect ensemble picked out that'll combine well with your style and the pieces you'll be showing off." Hoseok guides him towards the dressing rooms but as he does, your eyes catch Taehyung's.

"Monsieur," Jimin and Jungkook rush to his side at once when they see him looking over. "This is __." They gesture at you with a hand. "She'll be filling in for Park Ji-hun during the entirety of the shoot."

Taehyung's chocolate eyes study your features, your posture, and most of all your lack of movement as he waits for you to say something.

You bow realizing all you've been doing is staring at his flawless face. You've seen him on social media, posters, promo banners, everything, and anything but seeing him in person is not at all the same. "Monsieur," you greet. "It's a pleasure to meet you and to be working with you for the next two days. As the others have said, my name is __."

The man takes long, purposeful strides toward you. "I promise, the pleasure is all mine," he says with a hand moving to shake yours. His long, beautiful fingers wrap around your hand and pull you into a firm grip. "Thank you for stepping in for Ji-hun. And from now on, there's no need to be formal. You can call me Taehyung."

He then flashes you a smile that makes you begin to understand why the two assistants from earlier were so adamant on getting his attention; he's breathtakingly gorgeous. You feel yourself on the brink of a cold sweat at any moment.

"I insist everyone call me by my first name," he says. "I'm an easy man."

"But Mons–" you start but he quirks a brow at you in expectation to fulfill his request. "I understand."

"Do you model as well?" Taehyung asks casually after retracting his hand. "Sorry, I can't help but notice that you have a lovely bone structure. I like to paint in my spare time and sometimes I enjoy having live models as a reference."

The question takes you by surprise. Not many people bother to compliment your physical features expect maybe a few of your closest friends. "I don't model. I prefer being the one behind the creation, like how I'll be behind the camera with you."

He chuckles at your reply. "If you ever change your mind, I'd be happy to paint a portrait of you."

"Well thank you. I'm afraid I don't do nudes though." You really ought to shut your mouth sometimes. Of course, artists don't solely paint nude portraits. What are you saying?

The man in front of you ponders your choice of words for a few seconds too long then leans in towards your ear. Not so far that it's invasive but enough that you're the only one able to hear. "Again, if you ever change your mind....I'd be honored to paint you."

"Monsieur this is not appropriate to be saying."

"I'm not the one saying inappropriate things. I merely said I wanted to paint you as any artist would. You're the one that mentioned getting undressed."

Taehyung straightens himself back up and turns his whole body around. "Hobi," he shifts his attention to his stylist. "Show me what I need to wear today."

You're left standing with a baffled facial expression.

Kim Taehyung is the most elegant flirt and tease you've ever met.

After fifteen minutes Taehyung comes back to the studio in a shaggy grey button-down cardigan and plaid grey slacks. A gold chain necklace with a panther and tassle-like pendant hangs around his neck and on his left hand is a matching gold watch with a gold ring resting on his pointer finger.

They're all part of A&R's newest Panther collection and look nothing short of magnificent on him.

"We'll start with a few standing shots focusing on the ring and necklace separately," you say.

Taehyung nods in understanding and walks over to the studio setup that has a grey-ish purple green screen. Large studio lights hover on either side of the set to which Taehyung poses himself between.

He stands straight forward, eyes directly in line with the camera lens and jaw relaxed into a natural facial expression. It's a simple first pose to start off with but for a reason unexplainable Taehyung gives it new meaning.

It's takes you aback when you look at him through the lens of your camera. The closer you moves towards him to capture a clear shot, the more you're spooked by his intense eyes.

What makes it worse is when he decides to bring his pointer finger, the one with the ring, up to his mouth. His teeth latch gently around the gold band as it settles between his lips. You take several shots, adjusting the exposure on your camera as needed.

"Stunning," you hum in approval. Taehyung then slips the ring off his finger and again places it between his teeth. He tilts his head to the side to add to the flirtatious undertone of the pose.

"How was that?" He asks you after a few rapid flashes of the camera. "Thought I'd try something a little different this time."

"Came out perfect," you answer. "Flirty yet classically romantic. It molds well with our Panther campaign and brand. Suits you well too."

Taehyung's pleased by your words. "I'm glad you see it that way. I've always had a love for timeless themes. It's one of the reasons why I became an ambassador for Adrien & Rosamel. No other brand brings back the romantic past better."

"I agree with you completely. I fell in love with Adrien & Rosamel at a young age, around 13 I'd say. I always imagined myself to be largely integrated with the brand when I became an adult. Photography happened to help me get my foot in the door."

"Don't forget about me __," Jungkook interrupts from a couple feet away. "I got you this gig didn't I?"

Taehyung frowns at Jungkook's comment. "What does he mean?" He asks you. "Ji-hun specifically chose you to fill in for him didn't he?"

"Not exactly," you says with a flushed face. "Jungkook works closely with him and he was the one who recommended me to step in today. So I do owe him my life I suppose."

"You don't at all," Taehyung replied in a firmer tone than before. "He may have done you a favor but it's your talent that got you here. If your work wasn't good, do you think he'd take the risk of suggesting you?"

You stay silent as he continues.

"I've been in the industry for ten years, and no one lays their head on the line for you unless it benefits them in some way. Don't let him rob you of your achievements. And between you and me, I think he has an odd fixation on you." Taehyung lowers his voice. "Forgive me for being forward but he's not a jealous ex is he?"

You want to chuckle at the notion. "He's not, not at all." Taehyung laughs with you.

"So he's just a pain in the ass then," he says and you snort. "Had my share of them but not to worry. The best thing to do is to shake it off and in time, he'll realize everything you've gotten is by your own efforts and that you don't need his so called favors."

"Thank you Taehyung," you say, still a bit uneven as calling models like Taehyung was not what you were trained to do at Adrien & Rosamel. "We should probably move on with the shoot now."

"Sure, there's another pose I have in mind that I think will make the necklace stand out."

Taehyung steps away from you and turns around so his face is in front of the green screen. The cardigan he's wearing is cut to expose a large section of his back which allows pieces of the necklace to dangle against his smooth, bronze skin.

"What do you think? Does this fit the theme or does it look weird?" He rests one hand behind his head while the other raises above his head.

"Very artistic, hold the pose for me. Also, it's highly unlikely that you could ever look weird Taehyung." You focus the camera on the gold pendant. "You're a living and breathing aesthetic on your own."

"You know those are the same exact words I thought of when I mentioned wanting to paint you earlier. Seems like we see similarly don't we?"

"I guess we do, wow I never thought of myself as capable of having my own aesthetic. I feel like a carbon copy of everyone else some days." Once again you're stunned by his forwardness but you take it at face value. Perhaps he's naturally flirtatious even if he isn't meaning to be.

Taehyung looks over his shoulder at you and shakes his head in protest. "There's only one you __. You're not a carbon copy, so believe me when I say you're an aesthetic of your own as well. Which I would still like to get on canvas by the way."

"You're relentless about turning me into some kind of muse. I'm afraid I don't think I have the time, and neither do you now that I think of it. You fly back to Seoul after our shoot is over don't you?"

"I'm here for a couple of months actually," he surprises you with his reply. "Thought if I'm in Paris I might as well take some time to enjoy myself."

"That's fair. Now turn around again, I need to get a few more shots of the necklace."

"Your wish is my command." Taehyung faces away from you with a smile. He's decided he likes you. Maybe its a gift that Park Ji-hun couldn't do his photo session today.

"Do you want to know my favorite position?" Taehyung lays on his side with one hand supporting his head while the other clutches his elbow. The angle let's light from the softbox hit the gold watch perfectly, allowing it to be the star of the show; which is no easy task to achieve when it's Kim Taehyung who's modeling.

"No talking please," you respond, bending down on a knee in front for him. Your eye peeks through the camera lens to capture a good shot.

At your request, Taehyung does his best to remain silent but he can't help but notice your grip on the camera has gotten shakier. "Are you alright?" he asks with the tiniest smirk on his face. "Do you need a break? We've been going nonstop for nearly two hours now."

"Everything's fine Mon—"

"Taehyung," he interjects softly and slowly sits up from his position on the chaise lounge. "And here I thought we were starting to become comfortable with each other. Yet watching you struggle to hold that camera in place makes me feel bad. Let's pause for a few okay?"

You flush as he nears you, a tad embarrassed at the situation. You're a professional photographer which means you should be fully capable of moving forward with today's session without any breaks.

But you're palms are sweaty and all the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight from taking hours of close-up shots of the most handsome man on earth.

What's more, is that he keeps tossing out more flirty one-liners and finding ways to compliment you. And let's not forget your earlier exchange about the whole painting ordeal–wanting to put you on canvas and all.

No one warned you Kim Taehyung was going to be like this.

"What can I do to make you comfortable again, __?" He crouches directly in front of you with wisps of his honeyed locks dangling over his eyes. As he waits for your answer, the camera shutter clicks, getting a not-so-elegant close-up of his crotch.

Fuck. You didn't mean to take that.

"Too bad Hobi didn't give me a designer belt to wear. That would have made a great photo," Taehyung teases as he watches your fingers scrabble to delete the photo from your camera roll. "Imagine the kind of awards you'd win."

Oh god. You want to slap yourself awake now.

"Sorry," you rush to say anything at this point. "I think a break might be good after all."

"How about some fresh air? Last I knew it's a beautiful day out." Taehyung stands up and offers you a hand.

"You're offering to go out together?" You hesitate to put your hand in his at first but ultimately give in.

"Why not? It's up to you but I'd like to get some air in my lungs. Gets a little stuffy in here doesn't it?" Once he pulls you up he pulls his hand back. "Let's take a fifteen-minute break everyone," he calls to the rest of the team who nod and scatter in opposite directions.

"Fantastic." You hear Jimin talk to himself. "I've been needing to go to the bathroom for an hour already!" He scurries out of the studio as quick as his legs will carry him.

You and Taehyung find a quiet spot on the terrace above the company's enclosed garden. It's a recent edition the executives thought might give employees a small escape from the chaos of the day. And so far, it's been much appreciated. Being an unconventional hour to take a break, you're the only ones currently using the space.

"Can I ask you a question?" You cross your arms on the metal railing of the terrace and look at Taehyung beside you. He's standing calmly by the railing too with his hands in his pocket.

"Ask me anything," he replies.

"I haven't been in the fashion world nearly as long as you have but I know enough that people aren't as open as you are. You're much friendlier than most and I was wondering if you've always been that way. Even with Hoseok you call him Hobi, an endearing name."

He looks out into the distance at the perfectly trimmed bushes and trees, all square-shaped. "I became a model when I was 17. I hadn't even graduated high school yet when an agency recruited me. I thought it was a great opportunity until I saw the hunger for fame in my peer's eyes. Due to my appearance, I was given more chances to be on the cover of serious magazines like Vogue and Louis Vuitton but models who were there longer than me didn't. They were given shoots too but they were on a lower scale. Long story short they would scheme to get me in some kind of trouble so I'd get fired so they could take my place."

"I'm sorry that happened to you. I didn't want to believe that the industry was as vicious as I was told prior to entering it myself, but it is. So many of my coworkers can't wait to see someone fail so they can be promoted."

"It's a shame that it's like this __." Taehyung looks at you now, a serious expression on. "It doesn't have to be this aggressive cycle of stepping on the next guy to get to your ideal position. That's why I've decided to go against the current and make as many friends as I can. People I genuinely like tend to be my closest connections." His eyes soften at this as he scans your face.

"That's a nice sentiment but doesn't that open you up to being taken advantage of?" You think back to the two assistants from earlier this morning in the hallway. Seemingly friends on the surface but actually yanking on each other's hair below.

He shrugs and pushes a couple of loose strands of his hair behind his ear. "Sure it might but, I couldn't sleep peacefully knowing I earned my achievements by cheating everyone else out of theirs. Life's too difficult to not have a good night's sleep do you think?"

"True," you agree. "I wish more people had this sort of mindset."

"Well, luckily we can lead by example. I assume you run against the current too?"

"I try but I still have a lot of ambition so I can't say I've made any friends so far. Other than maybe Jungkook."

"Ambition is good, distinguishes the serious people from the non-serious. Friends aren't easy to make in our world __ and pardon me but that Jungkook guy isn't your friend. At most he probably has a crush on you."

"Jungkook has a crush on anyone with two legs and boobs," you chuckle and Taehyung does the same. "But he has a girlfriend now I think."

"Well, that's a relief." His tongue darts out to wet his lips. "I don't have to worry about him being a threat anymore."

You snicker at his comment. "What threat?"

Taehyung breaks into a shy grin and looks towards the ground. "Forget it, I'm just kidding around. We should head back inside. I think our time's about up." He moves to walk back inside the building but you stop him.

"Wait, no." You step closer to him. "I didn't get that joke."

He flickers his eyes up and down your body, taking in your curiosity. "You need me to spell it out for you __?" He pauses and takes a breath. "You're beautiful and I find myself extremely attracted to you. I'd–god forgive me if this makes you uncomfortable– I'd like to take you out while I'm still in Paris."

"Taehyung, that's....not a joke. Are you asking me on a date?"

"Yes, I'm asking you on a date. If you don't want to it's okay. Just say the word."

You smooth your hands down the side of your pants nervously. "Okay, what time and where?"

Taehyung's as shocked as you are by your response. "What are you doing tonight at 7 p.m?" he replies.

"Nothing, what are you doing?"

"Taking you out on a date I think. How's your dancing?"

"Oh I...I don't know. Depends on the type of dance. Why?" You know why. Of course, someone like Taehyung will want to take a slightly unconventional path for a first date.

"I want to take you to Le Duc des Lombards, you know that private jazz bar in town. So, if you can sway and don't mind being close to me we'll be in business."

"Alright." Don't overthink it, you think to yourself. It's just dancing. No biggie. "7 it is. I'll meet you there I guess."

"I can pick you up, actually, I'd really like to pick you up if I can. I know I'm such an old soul aren't I?"

"No problem," you can't contain your beaming smile. "We can exchange numbers and I'll text you my address."

"My phone's back in the studio. Let's do that before the end of the shoot."

"Shut the front door __!" Your best friend Elaine screams over the phone. "You're definitely wearing the sexy red dress I bought you for your birthday if you going to a jazz bar with, oh my god I can't even say his name. I'm so excited for you babe!"

"It's one date, Elaine. It'll probably not go anywhere either. I'm going into this as a fun night out with a very handsome man and that's all." You browse through your closet for something to wear. You've already showered and touched up your make-up. "Damn it, I have about twenty minutes before he gets here."

"I'm telling you __, wear the red one. Even if this will be a one-night thing it doesn't mean you can't look drop-dead gorgeous. Also, one more thing. What are you wearing for underwear?"

"Elaine!"

"What? If it were me I'd be looking as hot as I can tonight. Gives you a boost of confidence."

"Maybe," you say and pull out a black dress. "I'll think about it."

"Well think fast, because you're down to fifteen minutes now."

"Uh, shit." You toss the dress when you see there's a small tear in the strap. "Please tell me how I'm in the fashion industry and can't find anything to wear without holes in it."

"This is the last time I'm saying this __. Put on the red dress. It's more of a maroon so it'll make you blend with the mood of jazz but you'll pop out as well. And you'll look elegant with the silk sleeves and it's above the knee so you'll stay cool when you dance."

You card back the hangers until you get the dress Elaine is talking about. It's never been worn and it really is beautiful. "The neckline's kinda deep though," you say.

"You're boobs aren't gonna fall out if that's what you're worried about. I've seen the dress and it'll be great on your body. Plus, worst-case scenario you get laid by the hottest man in the damn universe."

"I'm not having sex with him you know..." you feel a blush creep on your cheeks. "This is a–"

"Fun night out. Yes babe, whatever you want to think." Elaine snickers over the phone.

"Fine, you win but I have to change now okay?" You set the phone down and start untying your robe. Are you wearing a transparent black lace set underneath? Yeah, but it's not like anyone's going to know about it.

"Don't forget to call me later! Or tomorrow depending on how tonight goes," she snickers again.

"Goodbye Elaine," you shake your head and end the call.

"You know what might look great with this dress is that ruby necklace I bought ages ago," you say to yourself. The necklace you're referring to is dainty yet never a let down no matter what you pair it with.

Satisfied, you head to your jewlery case in search for it.

"I see you found the place okay." You say once you hop into the passenger seat of Taehyung's Porsche. Man does well for himself.

"I did, and you look like a million dollars darling. Aphrodite herself couldn't even compare. I'm going to have the worst time trying not to stare at you tonight." Taehyung stands on the other side of your door and waits for your feet to be tucked in the vehicle before letting the door shut.

He insisted he come around and open it for you when he saw a glimpse of your figure walking towards his car.

"Darling?" you repeat inquisitively when he jumps in the drivers seat.

"Do you not like it? It's kinda old I know." Taehyung starts the car and puts the car in gear. He turns the wheel single-handedly and pulls out of your driveway.

There's something about seeing a man do this that always lights a fire inside you. Especially when said man is currently in a white, freshly pressed dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top, and dark grey dress pants.

"I like it," you say. "Darling. It fits the night well, since we're going go the jazz club. I like this look on you by the way."

Taehyung smiles at you briefly before focusing back on the road. The hand that rests on his knee shakes a little and his grip tightens on the wheel. "Hearing you compliment me makes me a little shy, sorry. But by the way, I like that ruby necklace you have on."

You smile and play with the chain. Always a hit.

The club is moderately crowded when you step foot in the building. The atmosphere is warm and inviting with the creme tones, bright white ceiling lights, and soft purple strobe lighting that shines from the stage. You and Taehyung are lucky to find a free table to claim on the end of the second row of seating.

"Have you been to Le Duc des Lombards before?" He asks, letting you take the inner seat.

"I came once but it was a long time ago when I was in college," you answer.

"Really?" Taehyung takes the seat next to you. "Where did you study?"

"Spéos photography school. A lot of wanna-be professional photographers attend there. I'm fortunate to be able to go."

"I'm glad you got to study there. I assume that's how you got a job with Adrien & Rosamel right?"

"It was definitely the main reason but," you sigh. "I did have some gracious references who help me get in, including Jungkook who went to the same school. As a videographer we were project partners a few times so he was a good person of contact. Along with a few professors of course."

Taehyung snatches the bar menu placed at your table, more aggressively than expected. "No offense but I'm really starting to not like that guy," he grits, jaw clenching. "From now on you can put me down for any further references. The photos you took look wonderful and you know I have some solid connections with some very important individuals."

"Taehyung..." You're amused by the peek of jealousy. "Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourself? The photos need to be approved by our campaign managers first before any merit is given. Plus, you're not my boyfriend."

"Could be your boyfriend," he quips back and you whip your head in his direction.

"Hm?"

"Hm what? You heard me."

"I thought you said you were shy tonight," you accuse and lean over his shoulder to scan over the drink menu with him. When you do you get a strong whiff of his cologne. God, you love the smell of cologne. Would it be too far for you to grab him by the shirt collar and throw your face into his chest?

Yes __, too far. Don't do that. You waive off the thought.

"What do you want from the bar?" Taehyung asks and you give him your response. He heads for the bar in the back of the room as soon as you tell him, not even giving you any time to grab your wallet.

"Tae–" you jump up from you seat. "You don't have to pay for me. I can get my own."

"As my date, I'd be my honor to buy a drink for you __. But you can keep calling me Tae, it sounds nice coming from your lips." He turns around and continues to the bar.

Nearly two hours of live jazz music later and a few drinks later, you find yourself in a pair of long, sturdy arms. One of Taehyung's hands curls around your waist while the other laces in your fingers.

"You sway well," he drawls, pulling you closer to his body. I'd make you squirm more than you already are if it weren't for a bit of liquor in your system. "In fact, you're a natural. Makes me wonder what other areas you have a natural talent for."

"Okay monsieur," you playfully joke and continue to let him dance you in small circles. "We're getting a little close to the hot zone now."

"Are we? Must be because you're so unbearably hot. Did I tell you to look like Aphrodite in this dress?" Taehyung slips his hand from your waist. "Can I spin you?"

You nod and distance your body from his to prepare to spin into him. "If my memory serves right, you told me Aphrodite couldn't compare to me. Not that I look like her," you respond to his prior question.

"Ah that's right," he hums. "That's even better."

Taehyung's slender arms wrap around your waist when you get to the end of your twirls. Your back presses tight against his chest as he brings his lips near your ear. "You remember when I asked you if you wanted to know my favorite position? Well, this is one of them, darling."

Your breaths get shorter as you take in his charm and you're forced to look into the crowd of people in front of you. Most are busy dancing with their own partners but a few stragglers smile in your direction.

"You make a lovely couple," one older woman says to you both. "You'll make beautiful children."

"Oh we're not–"

"Yes, we will. Thank you, madame," Taehyung cuts in and you pull yourself from his hold to face him.

"Tae, what the hell are you saying?" His face sculpted from the gods themselves stares down at you in a devilish smirk.

"Is it too hot now?" He teases as he refers to your comment minutes ago about it getting too close to the hot zone.

"You're drunk aren't you?" You gently accuse with your arms crossing over your chest.

"I'm not." He snakes his arms back around you smoothly. "I have to drive you home tonight. What kind of man would I be if I got drunk?"

You let him pull you into himself again and this time when he does you feel the outline of an erection forming in his trousers.

Fuck, you curse to yourself, he's not small that's for damn sure.

"How are you feeling __? Getting tired or you wanna stay longer?"

You smirk. "I should be asking you that seeing you have a situation down there."

"Shit—" he quickly retracts his hands on your waist and backs away from you. "I'm sorry, I know we've been flirting around but I don't want to you to think that's all I'm here for."

"Its okay Taehyung, it's just a biological response," you try to soothe. "Don't worry about it."

"Yeah but it's because of you," he stresses. "I want you to know that I'm into you romantically and not just horny with lust."

Your heart clenches and your feet move to approach him on their own. You cup his cheeks with your hands and stare deep into his coffee-black eyes. "Taehyung, I've had my share of male suitors who have all been horny with lust and nothing else. I never thought for a second you were one of them okay? Plus, you're not the only one worked up tonight." You bite your cheek, unsure what'll come from admitting to the following.

"I like you too Taehyung," you finish.

"You do?" He asks with stars in his eyes, same blinding smile as usual.

You nod in affirmation.

"Is this the part where I get to kiss you?" His lids relax as he waits for your response.

"I suppose you can. Are you a good kisser?"

Taehyung snorts lightly and surprises you with a quick peck to your lips. But when he tilts his head back to look you in the eye again, you pull his face back to yours and press your lips fully on his.

Taehyung finds your waist with his fingers again the longer and deeper the kiss gets. He moves his soft lips on yours firmly then sucks on your bottom lip until his tongue is granted access into your mouth.

"Tae," you moan his name quietly. "People are starting to stare."

"And?"

You reluctantly break the kiss. "We should probably finish this in the car."

"I'd much rather have you finish in my bed though," he says before thinking it through. "Shit—sorry I did it again."

Taehyung's lips move against yours roughly as he makes out with you in the back seat. You decided I'd be easier to kiss without the center console getting in the way.

"You know I don't like putting out on the first date but...how long until you have to return to Seoul?" You tug his blonde hair as his hands wander up and down your torso.

"Two months," he replies, slightly pained. "That's actually something we should talk about if this is going where I think it is."

"Do you not do long distance relationships?"

"I don't know." He brings his lips to the side of your neck, sucking on the delicate skin. "I've never done it before. Have you?"

You shake you head. "No but I heard it's not easy."

Taehyung moves away from your neck to take your hands in his and presses a kiss to them. "I guess we have a few choices then. One, we stop here and sum it up to a nice evening out where I got to steal a kiss the most beautiful woman. I might cry myself to sleep later," he jokes but you wouldn't out it completely past him.

"Two, we make the best of it while I'm here. I'll take you out every night possible until I have to leave. We call it a temporary relationship of sorts. Or my personal favorite, we date with intent and I'll visit you every chance I get. I'll even relocate if necessary."

"God Taehyung, I don't even know. How can you decide so soon?"

"The moving part was too much, I know. I just meant that I want to be serious. Or at least give it a shot. But if that's something that doesn't work for you then we should probably stop here."

"I want to go out again though. I don't want to stop."

"So what?"

"Call me crazy but let's be serious. You're an adult, I'm an adult. Let's fucking do this." You go to kiss him again but he doesn't let you.

"Wait, __. You sure you want to go through with this?"

"I know there's a lot of grey areas to consider but I'd hate to miss out on something amazing because of a potential threat. We go out and if it works out well, then maybe...one of us can relocate. And if it doesn't then we gave it our best."

"Alright," he slowly leans his face towards you again. "If you're on board then I am too. Since we're doing it this way....do you want me to take you home?"

You shake your head in rejection. "Take me to your bed Taehyung."

"Just when I thought you couldn't get more beautiful you always make a fool out of me."

Taehyung traces down the curves of your body with cool hands as you stand in front of him in nothing but your black lingerie on. He's asked that your ruby necklace stay on too which did throw you off guard a tad.

His shirt is off himself, revealing his lean, tanned torso. His pants are off as well, showing off his his muscular thighs. No wonder he's one of the most wanted models in the world.

He's absolutely breathtaking.

"Is this designer?" He asks and you nod. "Of course, only the finest lace should be allowed to touch your body." Slender fingers dance across the cups of your bra, feeling the fabric carefully. He's not gropping at all.

"You're a flatterer aren't you?" You look him in the eye and your heart skips a beat. He's staring back at you with a similar intensity as the shoot earlier. Just like a panther, you think —alluring, dangerous, and incapable of escaping.

"Not flattering darling. Admiring," he responds lowly. "Can I remove it?" He leans forward to reach behind your back and graze across the hooks of the bra. His lips press a kiss to the space just below your ear as he does.

"Y-yes, please do," your voice hitches.

Taehyung unfastens the material from your body and you shake it off your arms and let it fall on the floor.

"Fuck," he swears and nibbles the edge of your ear while he palms your bare breasts. He thumbs at your nipples a little until their pebbling to his satisfaction. "Are you sure I can't make you my muse for my next painting?"

You chuckle and let him mouth at one of your breasts. "Maybe in time—oh god that feels good," you moan his tongue licks across you nipple.

"In time? Seems we've made some progress. You gave me a flat out no this morning." Taehyung lowers himself on his knee and presses a kiss to your bare waist. Its gentle and featherlike. He then fiddles with the edge of your lace panties as he did with your bra.

"That's because we were strangers, coworkers. However you want to call it."

"Mm, you have a point. May I?" He asks for permission and you nod with a small whine. His fingers brushing around your hips, nearing your ass only hightens your arousal.

Once he drags the thin material down your legs you step out of them and kick them to the side. Taehyung groans deeply when your center is exposed to him.

"Gods I want to lick this pussy so much. Will you let me eat you out tonight?"

"Fuck Tae," you card through his blonde hair. "Yes."

"Lets get you on my bed," he grunts, getting up from his kneeled position. He leads you to the edge of his bed where you crawl on top of his rich comforter, ass in full view as he follows behind you.

Once you're settled on your back Taehyung pushes your legs up and spreads your thighs wide open. He then crouches between them and kisses you inner thighs.

"You're very wet down here," he mumbles. "Do you want fingers first?"

"Three please," you request, already clawing at the sheets.

"Three?" Taehyung lifts his head to look at you. "You're certain you want to start with three?"

You chuckle. "I have the feeling that I'm going to need to take at least three fingers and your tongue before I can take your cock wholely. Correct me if I'm wrong."

He smirks and brings a slender finger up your slit. "No, you couldn't be more right." He pushes the finger all the way in, sinking between your velvety walls.

"Ohh," you moan.

Taehyung adds another, pumping and curling both fingers before adding the third. "So wet baby, do you hear yourself?"

The squelching sound of his fingers working in your pussy causes your core to clench and a streak of pearly white liquid to run down your thigh. Taehyung grows feral at the sight and starts pumping into you at a faster pace.

"Goddamn you're a sensitive one. When's the last time you were fingered?"

"Uh, I'm not sure. Probably two years ago?"

"Well allow me to reacquaint you with such pleasure."

Taehyung continues to work in your pussy with his fingers, hitting your g-spot with every push and curl. Strings of profanities leave your mouth as he does this and when he licks his tongue over your folds you scream in pleasure.

"Fuck Tae, don't stop! So good, oh my god," you moan and sink your fingers in his hair.

He doesn't stop at all, he doesn't slow down either. His fingers eventually pull out of you after a dozen more pumps to make room for his tongue to dip in your pussy. He teases your clit too which is all you needed to send you over the edge.

"I'm coming Tae," you say as your come on his tongue. He groans at the act and cleans up as much left over spillage as he can before moving away from your center.

"I love the way you taste," he licks the corner of his lips and makes his way up your body until he's hovering over your face. Taehyung presses a hard kiss to your lips after with traces of your come still on his tongue.

"Don't you agree?" He asks when he gives you a breath.

"I think I'd prefer the taste of something else instead," you respond with eyes flickering to his crotch.

He smirks and brings a hand up to graze the ruby necklace that's still around your neck. "You want my cock in your mouth baby? Wanna suck on it nice and firm between those pretty lips?"

"I do. Want to make you feel good too and taste your come."

"Mm," he groans. "Don't temp me darling. I'd really much rather come in your tight pussy."

"In a condom," you remind him.

"Yes of course, but still, in your pussy," he replies. "But who am I to deny you of what you want. Pick one, in your mouth or in your cunt?"

Your pussy clenches at his casualness. "Do I have to pick just one?"

"Fucking hell," he seethes. "You're a little greedy for our first time together aren't you?"

"ijuswansucuok."

"What?"

"I just want to suck your cock," you repeat. "But if I had to choose I want you to fuck me."

Taehyung gets off the bed hearing your words and sticks his thumbs in his briefs. "I'll tell you what," he pushes his underwear down to let his cock bounce free. It's huge, vein tracing up the underside, and leaking with pre-cum at the tip.

"I'll let you suck me off any other time because as you can see, I'm inches away from blowing my load already. But to make up for it, I'll let you have your pick of any position you want."

Your eyes train on his throbbing length as he crawls back to you on the bed. You know you should control yourself but you can't help but reach out and touch it.

"Oh fuuck," he clenches his teeth as your hand tightens around him. Your thumb traces his slit, rubbing circles on it. "God your fingers feel heavenly on me. But I need you to stop and tell me what position you want to be in, please."

"Doggy and can you make me squirt?"

"Yes fuck," he moans as you keep teasing his slit. "Face the headboard and get on your hands and knees."

You do as as he says and thank god you did because he was seconds away from thrusting up in your hand. Taehyung grabs a condom from the drawer by his nightstand and rips it open with his teeth. He then rolls it down his think length until he completely covered.

"Ready?" He asks you.

"Put it in me Tae. Need you inside me, please."

"I'm going to ease in alright? I'm pretty fucking big and I don't want to hurt you." At that he clamps his hands around your waist and starts nudging his cock into your entrance.

"Oh fuck—" you screw your eyes shut at the stretch. So good but he's right, he's too big. You don't know how he's going to fit himself all the way in you.

"Keep breathing darling and relax your muscles. We're taking this really slow until I can bottom out."

You do as he says as he continues to sink his length into you. "Taehyung, Taehyung fuck it feel so good but god you're a beast."

"I know and you're doing so good for me," he coos. "We're about halfway there. You're pussy feels amazing around me. Still wet with your come."

You grip the mattress and let out moan after moan. "You're only half-way in me? God I feel like I'm being split in half."

Taehyung pulls himself out of you then thrusts back in, gently but firm enough to jolt your whole body forward. He repeats the motion with each thrust going deeper than the last.

"Shit!" He groans as he beats himself into you. "So close baby. I'm almost all the way in."

"Taehyungtaehyungtaehyung," is the only word coming from you. All you feel is pleasure as he thrusts himself into you. It's been so long since you felt this good, and who the hell would have guessed it'd be Kim Taehyung to remind you of such feelings.

"There we go," he grunts as he finally, finally bottoms out. "There we fucking go baby, how are you feeling?" He asks as he picks up his pace.

"Fuck me—harder Tae," your moans are incoherent as your whole body to Taehyung.

The next ten minutes are nothing but skin slapping against skin as his cock beats inside of you, desperately working you up to another orgasm.

"Oh fuck, fuck fuck fuck," Taehyung pulls himself all the way back then snaps his hips back in, making you dizzy with arousal. "Look at you taking my big cock all at once. Just so eager to please huh? Like the way I fill you up?"

"Yes, yes I do," you pant, sweat dripping from your forehead. If you looked over your shoulder you'd see Taehyung doing the same. "I'm getting close Tae!"

"Go ahead and play with your clit for me then," he growls. "You must be so sore down there."

You quickly reach a hand down to your clit, circling it while Taehyung thrusts himself into you wholeheartedly. "Oh god, I'm almost there. I feel it Tae," you moan as the cord inside you gets tighter, threatening to break any second.

"Go on, coat my cock with your slick darling. Show me how good I'm making you feel as I rearrange your guts. You feel it deep in your stomach can't you? Fuck, I'm close myself!"

You grind your hips on his cock a few times and with that you reach your high, releasing all over Taehyung. But despite your second orgasm, his cock keeps thrusting into you.

"Can you give me one more? Need to make you squirt."

"Uh I don't know Tae, I'm not sure if I can c-come again."

"Yes you can and you will." He fucks into as hard as he can at that, no other words come from him other than deep groans. You on the other hand can't stop screaming.

"Too much Taehyung, I can't, please, need you to come. Fuck!" Despite your protest you are indeed close to a other orgasm; the third one of the night. You pussy uncontrollably clenches around Taehyung as his cock starts twitching inside you.

"Just a little more darling, getting so close. Gonna make you feel so good," he promises as his thrusts get sloppier.

"You already made me feel good Tae, want you to come too."

"I am," he replies, finally releasing. "Oh shit!"

"What? What is it?"

"You're squirting baby. Making a mess all over me and my thousand dollar sheets."

"Oh god, I'm so sorry-fuck. I'll replace them!"

"Like hell you will," he pulls out of you, ties his condom off and tosses in the trash next to his bed. He then flips you on your back and captures your lips roughly. "These sheets are mine and they'll stay mine just like you will from now on. As long as I can help it at least. Sound good?"

"Okay Taehyung," you nod. "Yours."

"Good, now how does a bath sound?"

"Fantastic," you exhale and close your eyes.

"Taehyung, Taehyung wake up." You shake the man by the shoulders next to you with both hands. "Get up get up get up!"

"What's the emergency?" He rubs his tired eyes as you move to leap up from the bed. You have the sheets wrapped tight around your body.

"We have a shoot at the beach with the team in half an hour! Hurry up and put your clothes on, you have to drive me back to my house so I can change into proper clothing."

"Why don't you wear one of my shirts or something?" He yanks your wrist towards him until you're forced to loosen your grip on his sheets and are forced atop his chest.

"Seriously? Why don't we just tell them we slept together at that point? You're crazy Kim Taehyung."

"You're making it sound like we had a one night stand," he pouts for the first time and you chuckle at how cute he looks.

"Of course it's not that Tae, it's just we still work together. We can't have them knowing we have a thing this early."

"Can we at least tell Jungkook?"

"No!" You playfully slap his shoulder. "Stop being so obsessed with him. He's got a girlfriend. Now get up, we really need to go."

"Alright, but give me a kiss first." He puckers up his lips and you concede by pressing your lips to his. "Are you a morning sex person?" He asks.

"No, we need to leave." You hop out of the bed and race to his bathroom.

"Goddamn it," he curses by himself. "Day one of being your girlfriend and she's already leaving you high and dry."

Taehyung throws the covers off his naked body and walks to the bathroom to join you in the shower—nothing but a big, happy grin on his face.

a/n: oh my gosh guys, this took me a long time. But I hope you enjoyed and lmk what you think 💞 lmk if you want to be tagged for part 2 ☺

Masterlist

Taglist:

@faiyh @brieeoche @lovemeforeternity @daughterof-aphrodit @daughterof-aphrodit @jjkluver7 @mystaerytete @sparklingocean @main-bangtansmauyeondan @ahgasegotarmy116

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfic #taehyung imagine #bts smut #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts au #bts imagines #fic:reflections #kookslastbutton

[itgirlgyu]

fallen over, choi beomgyu.

🥥 ﹒ ! (＞人＜;)ᶻz ﹒★ beomgyu x fem!reader.

ꜝ ওফ্ফো  ! WC1072. ₍synopsis: during a sunny evening, whilst running away from your daily existential crisis you understand the importance of exercise. and,

sort of acquaint yourself with a charming fellow with kind of slippery fingers, and the prettiest face you've ever seen.

✫ this is dedicated to my best friend @itz-yerin i hope you like it baby!!!

"Don't mind me guys," you choked out despite trying your best to conceal the fact that your lungs were desperate for a steady source of air going in and out consistently, and letting you know that the lifestyle you had chosen for yourself all this while might be the case of being eaten alive if a zombie apocalypse did end up occurring in the near future.

"Go ahead," you were too focused on making sure your nostrils weren't flaring more than usual than speaking in coherent sentences, "Go!"

Your best friend, albeit initially confused but upon noticing and analysing the hunched over cycle posture and the sweat dripping off your body like a waterfall, had taken her befuddled, and slightly concerned boyfriend for a lap, or four while found a nearby bench to sit down to recollect your breath and think over how to expand your lifespan by a few more years.

Battling the urge to completely abandon the cycle onto the street, you lugged it with you as you crawled to the section with the grass, and collapsed beside the fallen torture device. The exhaustion gradually evaporates off your body like dewdrops under the scorching gaze of sunshine in the mornings of june, as a stealthy serenity sneaks in amidst the chaos of your surroundings, transforming all the clamour into a state of halcyon white noise.

You closed your eyes, allowing the gentle breeze to graze your heated cheeks, adorning you with the fragrances of all the florals it has been carrying. The sunshine played hide and seek with the clouds, drawing an array of inane shapes on your face like a toddler, tickling you with its sparkling mischief.

It felt good; it felt fine, despite the concerns that had kept you awake all night. It felt like you were alive in the moment and that's all that mattered. The blades of grass prickling your back, the June sun showering you with its rays and clouds coming to your aid. The warm gust of wind consoling you as well as the slight droplets of ice cold rain—ice cold rain?

You opened your eyes to uncover the mystery behind the whiplash of the capricious weather but to further push into a frenzy of perplexity, the clear blue yonder mocked you as it boasted an expanse devoid of any dark clouds—but the fog cleared up, and the reason behind the sudden downpour was someone's passionate participation in a topic you couldn't quite over hear. The sugary droplet falling off your cheek, and onto the green blades, only to be replaced with a few more similar ones when the conversation took another swift swerve increasing the ferocity of the words coming out of your assailant's mouth—so fast you were even a lip reader would have to suffer.

A few droplets were already a hassle as they dried off on your cheeks leaving a very sticky residue, but you had to seriously draw the line when the entirety of the popsicle slipped from his fingers and hit you right on your face. Before you could even process the piece of ice that was stuck on your face, you heard the man gasp, followed by another gasp from the person he was arguing with, both of them rushing over to make sure you don't sue—except the other one ran to another direction for some reason.

You should be sitting up by now and giving them an earful and but for some reasons, you couldn't—one of the major one being the fact the twenty minutes you actually enjoyed cycling, and the other half an hour you forced yourself to continue transforming itself into a bothersome back pain, and secondly it was quite amusing your main assailant's slightly long shag hair moving up and down from this angle. Removing the popsicle from your cheek, you tried to sit yourself up.

"Are you okay?!" You attacker crouched down to meet you at your current height. His concerned laced eyes analysed your face before fumbling with his jeans pocket to get his handkerchief out, offering it to you, "I am so sorry for this."

You touched your cheek before accepting the handkerchief to dab it onto your cheek softly putting on a show for him—except water and a good few seconds of rubbing the syrupy consistency wasn't leaving your face. You knew that, he knew that, but the world depends on such unspoken courtesies.

"It's alright." You assured him meekly, focusing more of your energy to get yourself off the ground so you don't seem like a brat—despite it taking a little more that what it takes other people, as in like seconds, you were at least able to get your ass off the ground for a few inches when you noticed the concerned expression glazing over his pretty face, "I was cycling for a few hours so my legs just gave out," you lied.

He nodded and extended his hands for you to take, "I am Beomgyu," He introduced himself, and you gave him your name in return.

"I am sorry for what happened! I promise I will buy you a good cleanser of your-" Before the beautiful man, whose name you had just learned to be Beomgyu, could finish his benevolent promise to take care of any arising skin issues you may face, his friend whom you had deemed to have abandoned his friend in need, came running as though he had something important to announce—conveniently missing the laid out bike on the ground and as a result crashing into Beomgyu's back who in a sick game of domino had fallen over you before he could even process what had hit him.

You cursed under your breath when you clearly heard a few of your spine break, with the added weight of two men laid out on top of you earning the questionable looks from every passerby. You couldn't even complain if you wanted to after all it was your own fault leaving it laid out instead of just properly putting it away on standing.

"I went to go get wet tissue for the blunder you created," The top part of the stack, the runaway friend, groaned while wiggling his way out of the giant dog pile.

"And you couldn't announce it, Taehyun?!" The one directly on top of your stomach croaked before turning to look at you, "I'll pick up a tab of your chiropractor I promise."

COPYRIGHTS RESERVED TO ITGIRLGYU 23'. FEEDBACKS AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! PERM' TAGLIST: @impureperhaps @full-sunnies @ox1-lovesick @jisungsdaydreamer @wonioml @1921choi @forever-in-the-sky2 @gyuletters

#txt #beomgyu x reader #txt x reader #beomgyu fluff #txt fluff #txt beomgyu #beomgyu soft thoughts #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu soft hours #beomgyu one shot #txt scenarious #txt soft thoughts #beomgyu soft hour #txt soft hours #beomgyu fic #beomgyu x you #txt x you #txt imagines #txt headcanons #beomgyu headcanons #beomgyu reactions #txt crack #beomgyu crack #tomorrow x together #tomorrow x together reactions #beomgyu #beomgyu txt #txt fic #txt funny #tomorrow x together funny

[octuscle]

Hey I want o be a himbo twunk with a great body that only wears tight leather to show off my gains to my boys oh and can you change my race as well, dealer's choice dude!

Now that the days are getting warmer again, you like to stroll through the street markets during your lunch break. Not that you would buy anything here… But you like the atmosphere. And there's lots of cool inspiration for business ideas here. As an investment banker, you need that to be able to assess market developments. That's sometimes more helpful than reading blogs or trade journals.

The stand with the perfumes and oils is cool. The guy in charge of the stand is cool. Looks a bit like a Viking. He smells good, you can tell that even from a metre away. You ask what his fragrance is called. Norwegian Fjord, he replies. You breathe in with your eyes closed. Yes, the smell reminds you of waterfalls, glaciers, high mountains and the sea. That's how you imagine the smell of a fjord. And like the guy, you imagine a fisherman who lives by the fjord. The Viking asks you if you would like to try out a scent. Sure, you answer. He sprays some on the back of your hand. You know the smell. Somehow animalistic. What does it smell like? "It's Nubian leather," the Viking reads your thoughts. Exactly, that's it. Leather, sweat, desert sun. That's what it smells like. You say thank you and stroll on.

You should really get back to the office. But somehow you don't feel like it. And secondly, you're hungry. You pass a stall selling Sudanese street food. You order a Magali sandwich. While you wait, you chat a bit with the waitress. A cool guy. His clean-shaven head glistens in the sun. You ask him if he can imagine you being bald too. He laughs and says that you should just try it out with a barber. There are plenty around here. You don't even realise that you are talking in Yoruba.

The food was delicious. But your shirt now smells of deep fryer and barbecue. Good thing your leather jacket doesn't absorb odours. And good that you still smell a bit like Nubian leather. You run your hand over your head. Yes, your hair no longer smells like a food truck either.

You should really get back to the office. But somehow you don't feel like it. And secondly, you're hungry. You pass a stall selling Sudanese street food. You order a Magali sandwich. While you wait, you chat a bit with the waitress. A cool guy. His clean-shaven head glistens in the sun. You ask him if he can imagine you being bald too. He laughs and says that you should just try it out with a barber. There are plenty around here. You don't even realise that you are talking in Yoruba.

The food was delicious. But your shirt now smells of deep fryer and barbecue. Good thing your leather jacket doesn't absorb odours. And good that you still smell a bit like Nubian leather. You run your hand over your head. Yes, your hair no longer smells like a food truck either.

You've been wandering aimlessly through the streets. You went to a café where lots of Nigerians hang out and played Yoté and dominoes. Whatever you do to pass the time until your evening shift starts. And that's rarely before 9.00 pm.

You usually start in front of the club and hand out flyers. Anyone who sees you dancing on the pole on a flyer is usually quickly convinced. The club fills up. And from 23:00 there is a show. And you are the star. One of the punters who slips a £100 note into your leather briefs smells you and asks what kind of scent it is. You press his face firmly against your chest. You reply, "Nubian leather, it's obviously very much to your taste!"

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #race change #ai image

[crybabycunt]

Kate: (holding a pot of coffee and a cereal bowl) What if instead of milk in my cereal I put in coffee?

Yelena: (walking past Kate and taking away the coffee pot) What if you didn't?

Kate: Fine. I'll have a regular breakfast. Just another missed opportunity for culinary brilliance!

Yelena: Oh, no, however will I cope without surprise bathroom fragrances?

Kate: Firstly, gross. Secondly, how dare you?! I smell of roses.

Yelena: Not after eating that you won't.

#bishova #kate bishop #funny #crack #yelena belova #marvel incorrect quotes #incorrect marvel quotes #incorrect quotes #bishlova #black widow #hawkeye #bishova incorrect quotes #bishlova incorrect quotes #kate bishop incorrect quotes #yelena belova incorrect quotes

[akkkkollle]

Um, maybe sex with Ran? That concept when Rindo cheated on you, well, he just happened to be there and you started dating and then Rindo finds you and realizes that he has lost, but it's too late?? (there are just a lot of them fanfic with Ran, and I want to with Rindo)

Pairing: Ran × M!Reader (base) , Rindo × M!Reader.

Cw: Angst to smut to angst, hair pulling, humiliation (both sexual and not), teasing, a little masochism at the end (?).

- Well, firstly I'm back, and secondly I love a little angst too much, so I think I got carried away. But enjoy, I think!

You sigh, closing the door behind you, you unzip your jacket, as you hear some muffled sounds. You, without taking off your shoes, go to the room where the sounds come from and look into the crack of the room. You just laugh bitterly, seeing the picture in front of you and turn around, closing the door behind you. Coming out of the entrance of the house, you sit on the curb, looking at a puddle on the road.

You've been thinking for a long time that he might be cheating on you. And you were thinking of coming back and having a skanadal, but why would you humiliate yourself, hmm? Just take it and write to him that you are breaking up and you will pick up things a little later. You did so, your hand slid over the keyboard of the folding phone, typing the phrase "We're breaking up, have fun with your bitch further." You sigh again when a hysterical laugh escapes from your throat, followed by a quiet laugh, and then tears. Your head is resting on your hand, and your fingers are playing with the laces on your sneakers. A figure looms in front of you, but you don't pay attention, still crying and occasionally laughing at your stupidity. Someone's hand is pulling your hair, forcing you to look up.

- M/n, what happened? - the question is asked by a person who is blurred in your eyes because of tears, but you recognize these two-tone braids.

- Ran, he... He cheated on me. - you speak in a surprisingly monotone, although tears are still pouring from your eyes.

- Eh? He what? - his purple eyes widen as he processes the information. - Maybe you shouldn't sit here? Let's go.

You didn't resist when you felt him pulling you by the hand and leading you somewhere. You look up into the room where the light is still on. Into a room that was once yours. You are pulled back by the hand and the disapproving, restless look of the elder Haitani. To be honest, you don't know how long you walked, you just looked at your feet all the way and occasionally forward at the figure of a shorter guy when he squeezed your hand so that you hurry up. A door slammed behind you pulled you out of your thoughts.

- Well? How are you? - he asked, not looking at you, taking off his boots and you followed his example, also taking off your shoes.

- I am... I don't know, but what should I feel? - There was an irony in your voice that made Ran sigh.

- I don't know either, but...  - He shifted his gaze to the sofa. - Sit there and wait.

You shrugged, sitting down on a soft sofa, which was clearly more comfortable than asphalt. Your back leaned back, and your head rose to the ceiling. Looking at this ceiling, you began to think about all the moments that hinted at his betrayal. And honestly... There were quite a few of them. Maybe you just didn't want to believe in all this? Everything is possible. But now it's reality, you've seen and heard everything yourself. And a cold hand on your shoulder is proof of this.

- Here you go. Have a drink, it should calm you down. - he gave you a cup of steaming tea and sat down next to you, mindlessly switching channels to TV.

You inhaled the fragrance, smelling lavender. How nice, tea to calm down. But weren't you calm? The drop that fell into the cup refuted your thoughts, and with a sigh, you began to drink. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the younger guy's lips part in a smile. And you quickly drank it all, putting the cup on the coffee table.

-I'm causing trouble, am I? - you ask, looking at the wall.

- Of course not. Why do you think so? - Ran's eyes widen and he puts down the remote, putting his hand on your shoulder.

- I'm just trying to figure out why he cheated on me. Maybe I'm bad at something? Obsessive? Stupid? Ugly? Or maybe something else... - silence fills the room when Ran turns off the TV.

The only light source in the room is the light coming through the window. But it was about 2 a.m. outside. So you were sitting in almost total darkness. You look at him, surprised to find that he is looking at you. And maybe you were just fooled by the darkness, but he clearly had a little blush.

- Ran? - the sound of your voice makes him flinch, pulling him out of his thoughts.

You suddenly feel a weight on your lap, and then you feel the touch of someone else's lips on your own. You open your mouth in shock, allowing the elder Haitani to put his tongue in your mouth. He hums contentedly, feeling how you respond to his kiss. You take him by the shoulders, pushing him away from your lips.

- Mmm, you're a great kisser. - he says with a laugh. - But still, don't say that. You're insanely handsome, you know? And smart, too. And not obsessive at all. I love you for a reason, you know?

Your eyes widen and you feel the hands on your shoulders tighten slightly. Is he nervous? How unlike him. A chuckle escapes from your mouth as your hand slides down his cheek.

- I... - you bite your lip, looking at your knees, and then looking up. - I think we can try.

He happily presses his lips to yours, snuggling closer to you, pulling the hiss out of your mouth when he just giggles. You pull him back by his braid, causing him to moan softly.

-You little bitch, Ran. - you say sarcastically.

- I know. Maybe you'll pull my hair under different circumstances. - and as if on command, you take him in your arms, carrying him to his room, pressing your lips to his.

A soft hiss escapes from Rindo's mouth as he opens the door, finally entering the apartment. He goes to his room, connecting the discharged phone to charging, sitting on the bed, and flipping through the messages with a yawn, watching the message from you with surprise. He looks at his watch it's almost 3 o'clock in the morning. Where do you go? He opens the message and the phone immediately falls on the bed, and tears appear in his eyes. He immediately runs out of the room, heading for his brother's room. But just touching the handle, his hearing catches the high moan of his brother.

- Found the fucking time to fuck with someone. - he whispers, while tears begin to flow from his eyes.

He was about to turn around, but his ears caught another moan from his brother. The moan of your name. He... Moaning your name? He presses his ear to the door, listening to the dialogue.

- Ah, damn I-it, M/n! So rude, mh..! - says Ran, turning his head to you with a mocking smile, feeling how you pull his hair even harder.

-But you asked for it, didn't you? - you whisper, clinging to his neck, biting it, pulling out a satisfied moan from him.

- B-but still let's slow down, I thought you were much smaller, d-dear, ah. - another satisfied moan escapes from his throat when you touch his prostate.

- You think too much, bitch, in the end you need to learn to accept it, since we're dating now? - he just nods with a sob escaping his lips when he feels your hand cupping his nipple.

Rindo's heart sinks the moment he hears your whisper. Your pleasant, low whisper that you once bestowed on him. You're dating now... With his brother. Except he got a guy they both liked, not his brother. But he lost it, it's his own fault. His body became heavier, and he accidentally pressed the door handle, thereby lowering it down and opening the door.

Your boyfriend makes an "ow" when he looks somewhere behind you. You turn your head and see this blonde head with a few blue strands. You are in awkward silence for a few seconds, but it ends when Ran squeezes you, which makes you growl.

- Rindo, what do you need, huh? - you ask, looking at Ran, who only winks.

-You... him... Both of you... Are you dating? - he squeezes out.

-Yes, but it's your own fault, Rindo. Don't mess with any whores. What were you missing with me, huh? - your hand slides to Ran's waist, taking your dick out of his ass and letting go of his hair, making him whine.

- You... I don't know, I was just too happy that something got to me and not him and I just... - he still didn't understand what he was saying..

- And decided to cheat on me? Get out of here, Rindo. I don't want to see you. - you say, still not looking at him.

He closes the door, grabs his jacket, quickly puts on his sneakers and runs out into the street, slamming the door. You finally look at the place where he was standing, but you didn't feel any remorse, you were even glad that he found out.

You sigh, feeling like you are being knocked down on your back and looming over you. He just grins mockingly, and you look at him menacingly. Your hands fall on his ass, inserting your dick into him again. A moan of pleasure escapes from his mouth, and his hands clench on your chest, forming red stripes on your skin.

And a moan of pain escapes from someone's chest, and his hands slide only on the brick wall, which he beat a few seconds ago, trying to relieve the pain. He realized that he was not crying from losing to his brother. And from lost feelings. He understood that Ran loves you and you care about him too. But he loved you too... But he lost you. And he will never forgive himself for that. Only the tears flowing down his face were his companion then. Now you're happy. But not him.

#Akkkkollleworks #top male reader #dom male reader #seme male reader #x male reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #sub tokyo revengers #sub tokrev #Tokrev x male reader #tokyo revengers smut #Tokrev smut #Ran x male reader #Rindo x male reader #Ran x reader #Rindo x reader #Sub ran #Ran smut #ran haitani smut #tr smut

[bingoboingobongo]

complex simplicity pt. ii

Pairing: Adrian Chase (Peacemaker) x Reader

Type: Fluff, angst

Summary: The team finally sets out on their mission, and Adrian deals with the events of last night

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: feminine pronouns used (she/her), angst, bodily injury, blood, descriptions of violence, previous trauma, character death

A/N: hiii, welp. it's finally done. after ten trillion years of constant dread, over three rewrites, and chronic procrastination, she's finally here. my longest fic ever (i think). i hope you like it, i have no idea if there's still an Adrian Chase fandom, but to everyone that has stayed throughout my unofficial hiatus, thank you. as always, likes/reblogs and constructive criticism are always appreciated, again thank you so much. please enjoy :)

Masterlist

part one

Adrian very rarely felt happy. Although perhaps that was an overstatement. A better way to phrase it, Adrian supposed, was that he very rarely felt the way he felt now: elated; ecstatic; euphoric; like his heart was about to burst out of his chest spewing nothing but love and joy and jubilee all over the room in some passionate, exuberant, macabre scene.

In fact, he wasn’t sure he had ever felt this way. The entire ordeal was entirely unique, Adrian realized. For one, there was nobody else in the entire galaxy that could ever compare to the woman nestled into his chest, with her small frown and pursed eyebrows even as she slept. And secondly, there was nobody else in the entire galaxy that Adrian would ever want so desperately.

There was no doubt in Adrian’s mind when he realized that nobody — not even Chris, who he admired with his whole being — could ever make him feel as exhilarated as she did. She was, in all ways, one of a kind.

When Adrian woke there was no longer the comforting weight of the coworker he had spent months pining over on his chest, and for a moment he feared the worst. Could the whole thing have been a dream? A cruel concoction created by his brain meant to torment and him? It wouldn’t have been the first time he dreamt about her, and he didn’t doubt that it wouldn’t be the last.

But when he got up, his heart beating out of his chest — for all the wrong reasons now — he realized that familiar scent that always lingered around her was stuck to his skin. That sweet, fresh, intoxicating scent that had a hint of something he could never quite place, had found a home on the planes of his torso, and Adrian realized that if he could, he would’ve bottled the fragrance and sprayed it on every article of clothing he owned so that he could surround himself with her.

“Oh, you’re finally up,” she said, staring at Adrian from the door of the bathroom, and Adrian scrambled to put his glasses on. She was rubbing something on her face, moisturizer or some fancy serum, Adrian guessed, and his mind was flooded with images of him rubbing his hands over her and savoring in the softness of her skin, before he rubbed his eyes, trying to rid his brain of the picture that had been burned into it.

“Uh, yeah. How long have you been up? I mean, I’m assuming it’s been a while, you look pretty great right now. I mean awake. You look awake, not great. I mean, it’s not that you don’t look great, but I feel like it’s weird if I say you look great so I was saying that you look awake. At least, I assume so. Since you’re doing all your makeup or something. Not that you need it. You’re really pretty alrea—”

“Ok, I’m gonna stop you right there before you say something you regret,” she cut in, and despite her light tone Adrian couldn’t get past the slightly critical look she was giving him. “Economos sent me the location,” she said, “get ready. We’re leaving in thirty.”

To his surprise, Adrian got ready surprisingly fast. He figured that considering the events from the night before, as well as the catastrophe of this morning, his neurons would be way too fried for him to even get out of bed, and yet thirty minutes later he was sitting in the driver’s seat of a Dodge Challenger, going sixty miles per hour down a desolate road.

Adrian let out a whistle, “So, what do you think Waller has us doing today?”

“God I hope it’s not aliens,” she sighed, reaching into the back seat for her bag. “But let’s be real, Leota’s press conference stunt did nothing but get us heat from Waller and the rest of the government. Stupid press didn’t even do anything. She’s probably found another deadly alien race that she needs us to kill. God knows we’re expendable enough to her,” she muttered, pulling out a small handgun and loading the clip.

“I don’t know, I enjoyed fighting the butterflies,” Adrian chirped, “plus, it felt super awesome when we told the Justice League that they could suck it because they were dumb weaklings that couldn’t even arrive on time.”

She paused what she was doing to give Adrian a quizzical look, “You didn’t even say anything to them, Chase. Chris was the only one that said anything and all he said was that they were late.”

“Still though,” he pressed, “I’m sure they could understand what I was trying to say. Wanna listen to the radio?”

“Uh, sure. Do they have NPR?” she asked, prompting Adrian to give her a disapproving look. “I’m joking,” she said after a beat, “lord knows your head would explode if you listened to anything other than 90’s bubblegum pop or whatever music Chris listens to. What is it, 80’s metal?”

“Actually, it’s 80’s glam-metal, and it’s amazing. How can you call yourself an 11th Street Kid if you think glam-metal is the same as regular metal?” he scoffed, “I mean, I’ve heard of a lot of insane things over the years, but that takes the cake.”

“What’s even the difference between glam-metal and regular metal anyways? It all sounds pretty similar to me,” she said, her eyes squinted in concentration as loaded the clip on another handgun.

Adrian laughed out loud this time, turning to look over at her with a fake look of shock painted on his face, “Ok, I lied about that last thing. This, this is the most insane thing I have ever heard come out of someone’s mouth. Glam-metal and regular metal are the most different things in the entire world. Chris told me all about it. Regular metal is lame and boring and is made for cowards, glam-metal is ten times better, it’s the most unlame genre ever made, and it’s made for real men. The difference is that glam-metal—”

“Hey, stop here,” she interrupted him as they pulled into the parking lot of an abandoned grocery store, “guess you won’t be able to tell me about how amazing glam-metal is. I’m devastated,” she said, climbing out of the car, and even Adrian could pick up on her sarcasm. “Grab your bag, I don’t want to get screwed over if someone tries to steal this car.” With a sigh, Adrian grabbed his bag from the car and slung it over his shoulder as the two of them walked towards the store.

If the half-fallen sign in the front of the building wasn’t enough indication that the place hadn’t been visited for years, the inside was. Shelves were knocked over, trash was piled in corners, and various assortments of canned goods lined the floors.

“Hey, look at this,” Adrian grunted, squatting down to pick a package off the floor, “it’s a pack of beef jerky. Think it’s still good?”

“I- No, Adrian. I do not think floor jerky from an abandoned grocery store is good,” she said incredulously.

But in typical Adrian fashion, the word of his peers was never enough, and so he opened up the years-old package and popped a piece in his mouth. “Hm,” he hummed to himself as he chewed, “you know, it’s not as bad as I thought. It’s a little stale, but given the price I paid for these, I’d say it’s a total win. Want one?”

“Oh my god Adrian,” she sighed, rubbing her eyes, “I- Just come on, We’ve gotta meet the others, I don’t have time to deal with you and your floor jerky.” With a resigned shrug of his shoulders, Adrian followed her throughout the derelict store, chewing contentedly on his floor jerky until they reached a small room in the back. She stopped in front of the door, and with a deep breath, gave one sharp rap, followed by two quick ones and one delayed one. The two of them waited in silence for a brief moment before the door opened, revealing Leota by the door, Emilia leaning over a large map, John typing away at his computer, and Chris staring over his shoulder.

“Finally,” John sighed, looking up from his screen, “what took you guys so long?”

“Adrian ate ten year-old floor-jerky,” she explained, which caused a groan from everyone.

“What?” Adrian cried, “jerky is what you eat during the apocalypse, it’s made to be eaten centuries after it’s cooked.”

Leota scoffed, “That is not true, and also there are rats here man. How do you know your floor-jerky wasn’t part of some rat’s dinner?”

“Yeah, like I’m gonna die of plague, that hasn’t killed anyone since the year 200, Adebayo. And if I were to catch it, I could probably just sleep it off,” Adrian said, chuckling.

“Dude, you can’t just sleep off plague,” Chris butted in.

“Uh, I totally could,” Adrian persisted.

“Dude,” John said, “it’s plague.”

“Ok we get it,” she cut in, silencing Adrian with a look that only encouraged the butterflies in his stomach, “Adrian’s stupid and he’s probably gonna die. What else is new? Now can we figure out what the hell is going on with this mission?”

Emilia looked up from the map, passing out dossiers to each member of the team. “Ten weeks ago, the President’s secret service arrived in Maine to secure a location the president would be speaking at,” she explained, pointing to a circled area on the map. “Within the hour, all five agents were found dead on the scene. First responders noted a single gunshot right between the eyebrows on each agent, ballistics assuming that they were shot long-distance, presumably a sniper.”

“Wait, they’re assuming?” Chris asked, looking up from the file, “these nerds spend all day analyzing bullets and they can’t even find out what gun the bullet is from?”

“Well these ‘nerds’ are the only people we have so don’t complain,” Emilia said, “besides, it’s pretty hard to analyze a bullet when there aren’t any.”

“Wait,” Adrian said slowly, “so whoever shot them took the bullets back after they were done?”

“Hey, what’s this?” she asked, and her voice sounded like a symphony to Adrian’s ears. “The autopsy report stated that the cause of death was batrachotoxin? What in the world is that? And does this mean the shots were done post-mortem?”

“Batrachotoxin,” John started, bringing his laptop over to the center of the table, “is an insanely powerful neurotoxin found on, get this, the skin of poison dart frogs. Get less than a gram of this stuff into your bloodstream, and in less then ten minutes you’ll be suffering from paralysis and then death.”

“Well that doesn’t make any sense,” Chris started.

“Exactly,” Emilia cut in, “if the toxin was already gonna kill them, why bother shooting them?”

“Oh, that’s not what I was talking about,” Chris said, “I was talking about the thing Economos said. How do you suffer from death? You can’t be suffering from death because you’ll already be dead.”

“Ok, it’s a figure of speech,” John said.

“Yeah, a dumb one,” Chris said, chuckling, “you know John, I was actually starting to think you were smart when you were talking about all that poison stuff but then this?”

“Hey screw you!” John yelled, although his protest was diminished by Chris’ roars of laughter.

“Ok, everyone shut up!” Emilia yelled, clenching her fists together. “We’re not done here yet, keep your egos in check until we’re done, got it?” she asked, “good. Now, since then, secret service agents have been dying the same way whenever they go to scout out a new location. It’s always the same situation: death by batrachotoxin, a post-mortem bullet to the head with no bullet, no witnesses, suspects, or evidence.”

“So, what are we doing here?” Adrian asked.

“At 5 this afternoon, the secret service is supposed to scout out an outdoor speaking event for the president. Waller wants us to arrive beforehand and see if there’s anyone suspicious who may be our guy. In the event that we do see him, Waller has been very insistent that we do not kill him? Understand?” Emilia asked, eyeing Chris and Adrian.

“Hey, why are you looking at us?” Adrian whined.

“Because you’re not exactly Mahatma Gandhi, and if we kill our guy, Waller will kill us.”

“The deaths coincide with dates the president is supposed to talk about his new anti-nuclear weapon policy, is it possible this is a rival politician trying to stop the president from talking about his new policy?” Leota asked.

“That’s our current lead,” Emilia explained, “Economos has been looking into politicians that disagree with the president’s policy, we’ve been tracking their comings and goings, looking into their communications, and trying to find anything that might lead to our guy. However, given the fact that we were assigned this mission two nights ago and the concerningly large number of politicians that want more nukes, we’ve barely been able to get through anything.”

“You said the senator was coming in right Harcourt? That’s why our hotel was so booked up. And this poison has to be coming from somewhere, poison dart frogs are native to central america right? So shouldn’t we be checking whether or not any of these guys have made repeated trips down to the border? I mean, getting this stuff through customs can’t be easy,” she pointed out, and when Adrian looked over at her, he had to physically stop himself from staring at her for too long.

“You’re right. Economos, check that out. For now, Leota and John will stay at the hotel and research our politicians. The rest of us will go to the location and try and see if we find anyone. This,” Emilia explained, pointing to another circle on the map, “is where the president will be speaking. Me and Chris will be watching the park and the two of you will surveill the forest behind it. If these shots were done by a sniper, the forest would be a good place to do it.”

Adrian sucked in a sharp breath, he was nervous, to say the least. “Hey Harcourt?” he asked, “can I talk to you real quick?”

Emilia sighed, but she let Adrian pull her aside while the rest of the team continued to look through the case files. “What do you need, Chase?” she asked with a sigh.

“I’m not trying to be uncool or anything but do you think it’s possible that I could go with Chris instead? It’s just that we’ve got a real ‘Bert-and-Ernie’ vibe and I think it would be good for the mission.”

Emilia sighed, “Bert and Ernie? Like from Sesame Street?”

“Wait, that’s where it’s from?” Adrian asked incredulously, “I thought Bert and Ernie were just some really good friends from like 1934 or something, and then they were just known throughout town as being really good friends, and so when someone else wanted to prove how good of friends they were with someone else, they would just say that they had a Bert and Ernie friendship, since Bert and Er—”

“Ok shut up Chase,” Emilia demanded. “Is this about your weird little crush on her?” she asked, gesturing over to where she currently sat, rifling through the dossier with that familiar crinkle in her brow.

Adrian scoffed loudly, “Please, what? Crush? Who- Who said I had a crush on her? Please, that’s- How old am I? Twelve? I don’t… I don’t like her.”

Emilia stared at him, her lack of belief in his statement clear on her face. “Well then, if you don’t like her then you should be fine working with her,” she said, turning away from Adrian with a shake of her head. “But Adrian?” she said, turning back to face him, “if you mess this up because you couldn’t keep it in your pants, Waller won’t be the only woman looking for your head.”

“Got it,” Adrian said awkwardly, although Harcourt had already walked away from him. Puffing air out of his lips, Adrian walked over to where his roommate and subsequent heartstopper was standing. He allowed himself to admire her focused stare for a second before he cleared his throat. “So…” he started, swinging his hands around. “Guess we’re gonna be partners… again,” he said, laughing awkwardly. “Just… two normal coworkers… working together… no weird feelings. I mean, of course there’s no weird feelings, I don’t even have feelings like I said last night, which was a totally normal night where nothing happened, definitely not during the middle of the night when you were sleeping… so should we go to the car?” he said, after clocking her stare.

“You’re acting really weird Chase,” she said, looking him up and down. “Let’s just get this done alright?” she said, slinging a duffel bag over her shoulder. Adrian watched her walk away for a moment before following her, but before he could Chris stopped him.

“Dude, just admit it, you like her,” Chris said.

“Psh, uh- wha- huh? I don’t- I don’t know what you’re talking about Chris, I have no feelings towards her at all, and definitely not love feelings,” Adrian spluttered frantically.

“Jesus Christ you’re hopeless Adrian.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that anyone with two eyes and half a brain can tell that you’re way into her dude. And I don’t mean that you just like her romantically, you’re pretty much in love you idiot.”

“Ok, that’s just not true Chris,” Adrian protested, although he had to admit that he had thought about it, “you should know better than anyone else that love? That’s just not the Vigilante-way. You and I? We put criminals to sleep and take their women to bed. We don’t get hung up on love or relationships or dreaming about owning a two story house with a white picket fence or a New York apartment or whatever housing situation our lover likes the best because they’re the most important thing to us and we would do anything to make them happy. No, the only people you and I are interested in is criminals, and murdering them. I know your time in Belle Reeve changed you and now you’re like this peace-loving hippie that doesn’t want to kill anyone and has crushes on people, but that’s not me. That’s not Vigilante. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go join my work partner on a very normal drive which I will very much enjoy because she is my coworker, and the only feelings I have towards her are respect and friendship.”

Chris shook his head. “Whatever you say man,” he said, giving Adrian a hard clap on the shoulder and sending him away.

“Sorry about that,” Adrian said as he climbed into the passenger seat of the car.

“About what?” she asked, flexing her hands against the steering wheel.

“Well- Chris had to talk to me about… something, so that’s why I took so long to come out.”

“Oh,” she said, “I didn’t notice.”

The two of them didn’t say much after that; she stared silently ahead at the road in front of them while Adrian gazed out the window, his eyes only flickering over to her occasionally. He wasn’t sure why but there was something off about her now. She was a naturally stoic and silent person, he knew — after all it was one of the reasons why he was so obsessed with her — but there was something else beneath her constrained quietness. A difference in the air around her; usually it felt calm, serene, still. But now, he could almost sense something disturbed about it. As if her stony facade were a smooth pond that had been marred by outward-moving rings of concentric circles, and yet what had caused the disturbance was still unknown, its very nature hidden away in the depths of the water.

It was then that Adrian thought back to the night before. He mulled over their conversations, choosing to skip over his many social errs and follies, when he remembered something that had struck him as odd when he heard it. “What did you mean when you said the bed was ‘too big’ last night?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.

“What did you mean when you asked Harcourt for a new partner?” she countered immediately, and to his surprise Adrian could feel a hint of emotion deep underneath her words, although the exact one was still unknown to him.

“I- That- It wasn’t what you think it was,” he tried to explain.

She chuckled dryly. “Is working with me really so horrible?” she asked, but Adrian could still sense that foreign emotion nudging at the edge of her words, yearning to free itself from its prison.

“No! No, not at all! It’s the opposite of that really,” Adrian said hurriedly. “It’s just that- I- You- I think… I think that you and I… I’m worried that we’re not… compatible? And… I guess that I’m just worried that you think I’m… you know,” he said, mumbling the last part.

“You’re what?” she asked, looking over at him, “weird? Annoying? Way too talkative?”

Adrian sighed, nodding glumly as he looked out the window. To his annoyance, it was ironically bright outside. The sun shining brightly overhead, there were no clouds in the sky, and the trees were rife with leaves as green as shamrocks. It looked like a scene from an oppressively happy movie — one that would be filled to the brim with cheesy romance, choreographed musical numbers, and shallow conflict that would be resolved in minutes. In other words, the exact opposite of his life.

“You’re right, I guess,” she said, her voice growing smaller now. “I do think you’re weird and annoying and way too talkative, but… for what it’s worth, I don’t really mind, and I don’t really mind… working with you,” she said, her voice now so quiet that it was barely above a whisper.

And it was then that the wool was finally pulled off Adrian’s eyes and he could see with startling clarity what he had missed before. The object that had disturbed the smooth pond of her aura, the hidden emotion that lurked beneath her words, he knew what it was now. He held it on the forefront of his mind and the tip of his tongue.

Betrayal.

She had overheard him asking for a partner change and she had felt hurt, she had felt offended, she had felt betrayed. And Adrian couldn’t have been more joyful. After what seemed like eons of searching for answers, for clues, anything that could’ve tipped the scales ever-so-slightly in his favor, he had found the very thing that would solve all his problems. Proof. Real, physical, audible proof that came out of her mouth that she cared. She cared about what he thought of her, even more, she enjoyed working with him. In all ways, it was a success, and Adrian had to fight to stop himself from bursting into giddy laughter right then and there.

“What are you grinning about?” she asked him, the betrayal no longer in her voice but instead replaced by something Adrian believed — hoped, really — to be playfulness.

“Nothing,” he said coyly, his smile growing impossibly bigger. “I mean, if I didn’t know any better I would say that you liked me,” he teased, grinning at her.

She glared back at him, but this time Adrian figured it held slightly less contempt that normal, “Say something stupid like that again and I’ll shoot you right now, got it Chase?” she threatened.

“Whatever you say,” he chuckled, “like you’re gonna murder the love of your life.”

“Good god,” she sighed, rolling her eyes as she redirected her attention back to the road.

When they arrived at the location there was nothing particularly absurd about it. It was a medium-sized field of green grass surrounded by a ring of forest behind it. There was a podium in the center of the field, its body covered by a banner of the President’s face, the background of which was covered with patriotic reds and blues. In front of it were rows upon rows of folding chairs, and behind the podium were six American flags, the cloth hanging limply in the windless air.

“Come on,” she sighed, “Harcourt says we have to surveill the forest so we better get set up.” The forest seemed to be well over a mile away from where they stood, and so with a groan Adrian grabbed his things and followed behind her.

The trek to the forest was tedious at best. By then, the sun was directly overhead and its suffocating rays beat down at them insistently. Adrian could feel his body begin to drip with sweat as they trudged towards the forest, which seemed to only grow further and further away. To take his mind away from the torrid atmosphere, he focused on the person in front of him. The way her hair jolted every so slightly as she walked. The resoluteness of each step she took, as if each was carefully planned to take her further. The way she had finally admitted to him that she had some sort of feelings towards him, even if her voice was so quiet he worried that he may have imagined it.

With his focus diverted to her, the arid walk to the forest seemed irrelevant, like an after-thought, and before long they were standing on the edge of the trees. It was here Adrian realized that what he thought had been a densely packed area of trees was really nothing of the sort. In reality, the forest was quite sparse and exiguous; in fact, if you looked up the sky was startlingly visible. Its cloudless, turquoise expanse looming over them.

“Well, shall we go in m’lady?” he asked, sweeping his hand outward. She rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath but she went in regardless.

As she walked in, Adrian realized that they were sorely under-resourced for this kind of mission. The forest was impressively large, and even if it was relatively devoid of trees and shrubs, it would still take hours to search it completely. “Hey,” Adrian said, reaching for her shoulder to stop her from diligently soldiering on, “How are we supposed to find someone in here? This place is huge.”

She paused, scanning their surroundings, “You’ve got a point Chase,” she admitted, “I guess our best option would be to split up and look around, maybe find a vantage point a sniper might like. From there, if we don’t find them I guess we can find somewhere to meet up.” Adrian nodded slowly, although he was too preoccupied being upset that they would have to split up to truly understand what she was saying. She continued again, “I’ll radio Harcourt to tell her the plan, you go west, I’ll go east. We’ll walk to the edge of the forest and from there converge in the north. Check out high points and anything suspicious, if we find anything, radio each other. This guy is definitely a professional, so don’t engage unless we’re both there, or unless you’re one hundred percent sure that you can neutralize him without killing him. Remember, if he dies, Waller will make sure we do too. Got it?”

“Uh, yeah,” Adrian said, “hey if you want, I can go east. I was just thinking that there are more trees eastward and since I have a helmet and you don’t I’m sure you could use the shade. Plus, this suit is insulated so it’s like a meat freezer in here, if you know what I mean.”

“Ugh, gross,” she said, “but whatever. Thanks, I guess.”

Adrian nodded enthusiastically in response, but by then she had already turned her back to him, the duffel bag of gear swinging as she slowly disappeared into the trees. With a sigh, Adrian readjusted the strap of his own duffel bag and turned towards the expanse he was to explore.

For the most part, his scouting was relatively uneventful. Occasionally, he would hear a rustle of leaves or a snapped twig, but when he went to check it out it would be nothing but the wind or a small animal. He spent most of the time lost in his thoughts, consumed by the hurricane of events that had preceded what he was doing now. The hotel room, the cuddling, the confession; just a few hours ago he had felt abandoned. Like the earth and the sky and everyone else was leaving him, off to live their happily ever afters without him.

But then, she had said those magical words, and Adrian’s world changed. No longer had he been left behind; now he was one with the earth and the sky and everyone else. He was one of them, ready to live out his own happily ever after with her. He repeated her words over and over in her head like a mantra, I don’t really mind working with you, he whispered to himself, taking steps in tandem with his words.

I don’t really mind working with you. One step.

I don’t really mind working with you. Two steps.

I don't really mind work—

“Chase,” he heard, the staticky chatter of the radio pulling him from his thoughts. “I think I see him, I just sent you my loca—” But then her voice was interrupted by a sickeningly familiar sound. One that rooted Adrian to his spot and sent chills cascading down his spine. A brief whistle of air followed by a startling crack as loud as a firework.

A gunshot.

Adrian began to panic. A gunshot was bad, very, very bad. She hadn’t been wearing a bulletproof vest. He had convinced her earlier that it was a needless precaution. It was dangerously hot outside and it would only slow them down. Besides, it wasn’t as if they were going to take him down alone.

By now they had to have been at least a mile away from each other. Even if he sprinted it would take him at least eight minutes to get there, and he wasn’t sure she had that long. For all he knew he could she could be dead.

That thought startled him into clarity, and in his newfound rationality he dropped the duffel and began running back where he came, digging furiously through his belt for his phone. Her coordinates only brought more bad news. Like he suspected, she was over a mile away. If she had been shot in the heart — which wouldn’t be unexpected, considering how good of a shot their suspect was — she would probably have died by now. A shot to the abdomen wasn’t good either. A few more minutes and she would be dead.

For now, Adrian could only cling onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t been the one to get shot. Maybe she shot him, or it was just a hunter somewhere miles away. Anything other than face the possibility that he may never see her again.

While he was running — branches scratching at his arms and rocks digging into his shoes — he came to another terrifying realization. Like him and Chris, she had a life outside of this. A life that he didn’t know, and that didn’t know him. She had other friends and other coworkers, and there was a frighteningly real chance that if she did die, he would never make it to her funeral. He would never be able to say his final goodbye. Never be able to at least cling onto her palm, no matter how cold it was, and tell her that he always loved her and that he’d never get over her.

And then with a shiver he realized it was all his fault.

He had been the one to convince her to take off her vest. He had been the one to propose they switch sides. He had been the one to make her life hell these past days. With his incessant pestering and teasing and blabbering. He should’ve been the one coming face-to-face with their sniper. His suit was already bulletproof, there would be no harm to him. She would come for back-up, they’d take him down, and maybe Adrian would even ask her out.

And now he wouldn’t even have the chance.

Adrian kept running throughout the forest. It was all he could do. All he knew how to do. One foot in front of the other. One step. Two steps. Three steps. Just like she had done just hours before when they were entering the forest. Just like she had before she fell victim to its cruel inhabitant.

His mind would’ve only spiraled further if his thoughts hadn’t been interrupted. From his belt, his radio began to chirp its small, static song. Without slowing down, Adrian pulled at the radio, holding it close to his ear to hear what was coming out.

“Where are—”

“Hel—”

“He got aw—”

“Tell Har—”

He could hear her voice crackling in and out of the receiver. Her voice was small and croaky. As if every word was strenuous and difficult. It did, however, bring a glimmer of hope. If she was strong enough to click the button of the radio and strong enough to lift it to her face, then there was a chance that she would be strong enough to hold on a little longer.

“Just wait,” he whispered into the radio, more of a plea than a request. “Please god, just wait. Please. Please. Please. You can’t go. Don’t go,” he babbled, realizing that tears had begun to stream down his face, soaking the inside of his mask. He kept rambling into the radio as he ran, not really knowing what he was saying and not really caring either.

After what seemed like a painfully long time, Adrian arrived at her location: a brief clearing near a cliffside. For a moment he couldn’t find her, and his heart was seized with panic and fear. The sight was unsettlingly macabre. In the center was a haunting trail of sticky blood. The crimson liquid tainting the green grass beneath it. His eyes traced up its winding path until he saw her, slumped over against a tree.

Her hands laid on either side of her, their palms facing the sky. The sight of her reminded him of biblical paintings he saw during his childhood. Jesus, his palms up to the sky, praising the Lord and readying himself to ascend to the heavens. It also reminded him of a sacrifice. As if someone had propped her up against the tree to sacrifice to some cruel god. Although, Adrian supposed, it was clear now that all gods were cruel. Cruel because they let her get hurt. Cruel because they made it his fault. Cruel because they made him love her.

He realized then that he hadn’t moved since entering the clearing and so he hastily rushed over to her. His hands fumbled and shook as he reached for her wrist. It was limp and pliable in his grip, but he could ever so faintly feel the whisper of a pulse. “Come on,” he whispered to her, “wake up. Come on. Wake up. Come on. Wake up.” Over and over again he repeated this, although it worked more to calm him than to stimulate her.

The first thing he needed to do was stop the bleeding. And yet, there was so much blood that he could barely tell where it began. At that point, his hyperventilating had begun to fog up his helmet, and so he lifted it off so he could care for her, frantically shoving his glasses onto his face. The lack of his helmet, however, made everything seem so much worse. With the red tint of his visor no longer there to mask some of the damage, he was forced to face the extent of her wounds head-on.

Clenching his hands into balls, he took a shaky breath to steady himself. Carefully, he began to feel around her abdomen, caressing the smooth canvas of her skin until he found it. The divot of a gunshot. As far as he knew it hadn’t hit anything vital, although he worried that it was dangerously close to her spinal cord.

Adrian swiveled around, searching for the duffel bag. It would have first aid in it, gauze, bandages, painkillers, but it was nowhere to be found. He realized that their mystery sniper had most likely taken it, and then he remembered why they had the duffel in the first place. The mission. Quickly, he grabbed the radio off of his belt, cursing as he fumbled wildly with the controls until he could tune into Harcourt and Chris’ frequency.

“Help,” he said frantically. “Help. Help. We need help. She got shot. I’ll send you our coordinates, just get help,” he said, too frenzied to add anything more.

He had to stop the bleeding. He had to find something that he could use to wrap it, to apply pressure. There was no duffel, no gauze, no bandages, so did the only thing he could think to do. He started undressing. As fast as he could he started shedding his gear, cursing his past self for adding so many layers.

After a frustratingly long time, he was finally left in a long-sleeve black shirt. Hastily, he ripped a large piece off the bottom and prepared to lift her. Adrian sat down next to her, and trying to be as careful as possible, slowly lifted her into his lap so that her head was resting on his leg. From this position, it was much easier for him to navigate her body. For him to carefully and tightly wrap the strip of cloth around her waist. For him to gently wipe some of the hair off of her bloodied face. For him to grip onto her hand and whisper that everything would be alright.

But there was too much blood, he realized. It didn’t make sense, it wasn’t possible to lose such a large amount of blood from one gunshot, which meant there had to be another. He looked back at the trail of blood. She was the strongest person he knew, if she dragged herself to the tree he knew it would be because she had to. With a bout of clarity, he began scanning her legs until his eyes rested on another wound.

This gunshot was located on her thigh, just above her knee. It was slowly spitting up blood, the liquid oozing out in small rivulets. Cursing under his breath, he fished a knife out from his belt and, carefully, cut away the cloth around it. He hastily peeled off his shirt so that he could construct a tourniquet and began to tie it around her leg, just above the wound.

Adrian held his breath as he watched the wound on her leg. To his relief, it had slowly stopped bleeding, and he let out a sigh. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to her, stroking some hair off of her forehead, “I’m so sorry. It should’ve been me, this is all my fault.”

Then, for some reason Adrian couldn’t understand, he was overwhelmed with the urge to be close to her. And very carefully, he lifted her from where she lay and pulled her close to him so that her back was against his chest.

In these moments while he waited for the team to find them, it was quiet. With her against him, Adrian felt oddly peaceful. He felt placid. He felt as if he were floating in the middle of an ocean. He let himself be buoyed by the waves, opened himself up to the gentle lull of their movement. And so because he was very tired — after all he had been through so much already — he let himself close his eyes. He let himself dream.

He dreamed that they were in Paris, sitting on a balcony and watching the sun set. Her, leaning against him like she was now, and him with his arm around her waist, stroking the plane of her side tenderly. Once the sun set, they would stare with awe and amazement at just how quickly the city transformed. How it became bright and vibrant. How the Eiffel Tower lit up the night sky. She would stare up at him, and in her eyes would be a twinkle so bright and loving that it would outshine every other light in the city.

Or if they weren’t in Paris, perhaps they were in the Bahamas. Where the sky was always clear and the ocean was always blue. Where the sun was always shining, but not as forcefully as it had before. Instead, the sun’s rays would be gentle, a delight instead of a torment. They would be sitting along the beach, the sand nestled in between their toes, and Adrian would smile lazily down at her, and she would smile back.

By the time she woke up, Adrian had been in the hospital for over a day. They had been lucky though. The team had found them quickly and their sniper was caught fleeing the scene. The surgery went smoothly, and when it was done the doctors informed that team that had the bullet had narrowly missed her spinal cord as well as several internal organs. She would be in a coma, they told him, due to her severe blood loss but she would be awake again soon.

Adrian didn’t consider that lucky though. Luck was not getting shot in the first place. Luck was never being assigned to this wretched mission at all. Luck was being able to live your life without worrying about which government official was going to risk your life for some stupid political campaign.

He couldn’t help but be mad. At the sniper, at the team, at himself. It was all so preventable. If he had just pushed Harcourt a little further for a new teammate. If he had just kept his mouth shut instead of suggesting they switch sides. If he had just gotten there a little bit faster or tied the tourniquet a little bit tighter.

“I said the bed was too big because of something that happened before I joined the team,” she said, her voice small and raspy, and Adrian looked up. He had been so engrossed in his thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed her stir from her hospital bed.

“What?” he asked, too shocked to say anything else.

“A few years ago,” she said, letting out a deep sigh, “I was an A.R.G.U.S. agent. I was young and dumb and reckless and I became friends with a fellow agent, Jason. One day, we were working a mission. We were in a big clearing and I was stupid and walked right in without checking for traps. It was a set-up of couse, and I got shot.” Adrian took in a sharp breathe at this, but she waved her hand dismissively and continued. “It wasn’t bad, just nicked my arm.”

“But Jason had followed me, and he wasn’t so lucky. He got shot in the chest, and before I knew it he was on the ground. It was a terrible feeling. We were like some dumb animal, wandering straight into a trap where we could just be plucked off one by one. I had no shield, no cover, nothing. There were bullets flying around me and I didn’t know what to do.

“I wasn’t thinking straight and so I did the first thing I could think of and ran back where I came from, leaving Jason behind. Once I was in the forest, I could see what happened to him. He had been shot more times than I could count. None of them fatal, which is worse. Eventually the bullets stopped, but I couldn’t go back out there. I watched, less than six feet away as one of my best friends choked to death on his own blood. All because of me.

“I remember what it felt like attending his funeral. It was in a cathedral. The ceiling was so high and the whole place was so open. It reminded me of when he died. Of the openness, of the vulnerability, of the shame.

“I realized then why A.R.G.U.S. tells you not to befriend any of your coworkers. It’s because you get close to them. And when they inevitably die, you obsess over it. And they were right. I did. I couldn’t stop thinking about how scared I had been, and how scared Jason must have been. I was able to get away relatively unharmed, but Jason’s body had been mutilated so badly the funeral had to be closed-casket.”

“That’s why you dragged yourself to the tree,” Adrian whispered quietly.

She nodded, and there was a hint of sadness behind her smile. “Why’d you tell me this?” Adrian asked softly, “I mean, I appreciate it but, it’s not exactly ‘in-character’ for you.”

She laughed lightly, “Well you saved my life out there Adrian. If it weren’t for you I would just be another Jason. I owed you one, and now my debt is repaid.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get there in time,” he whispered, reaching out tentatively to grab her hand.

She let him grab it, and when he did she squeezed it back. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a terrible teammate.”

“Don’t say that, you’ve been perfect. You’re perfect,” he said.

Adrian smiled at her, and she smiled back. Once Adrian had considered her an enigma. A mystery. An equation waiting to be solved. But here in the hospital, with its fluorescent bulbs humming lightly and the dull buzz and whirs of the machines, he realized that she was anything but. At the end of the day, she was just a girl — a person, like him — who was scared. Who was haunted by the ghosts of her past. Who was more comfortable locking things away than presenting them freely. Who would rather be seen as someone intimidating and formidable than caring and emotional. And it was so simple, he realized, the basis of her being. Her motives, her desires, her wants. They were basic. They were human.

And yet as simple as they were, there was a layer of complexity to them. There was a layer of complexity to her. In a way, she reminded him of a bank vault. The mechanics of the door — the locks, the screws, the bolts — were intensely complicated. They were purposely designed to be impenetrable. Each facet was orchestrated so carefully so that the treasures inside would never be seen without the right password.

But now, Adrian had the right password. And when he was finally able to get past the vault's solid doors and view the treasure inside, he could finally appreciate just how beautifully simple it was. The luxuries inside were akin to diamonds, both in beauty and personality.

Like a diamond, she too had experienced a life of suffocating pressure. Pushing down farther and farther on her until finally, she did not crack, but instead became an impeccable jewel. A stone, unrivaled in its beauty and worth, with not even the slightest impurity to desecrate it. A diamond was beautiful because it was perfectly simple, just like her.

And it was this limbo, this teetering balance of complex simplicity that she was so comfortable in, that had drawn Adrian, like a moth to a flame, into her. It was this limbo that had allured him so intensely, so powerfully, that he could not bear to turn away. And it was in this limbo, Adrian knew, that he loved her, and that he would always love her. For he had become hers. And he knew this because his heart, his soul, and his livelihood had become clutched tightly in her grasp.

And while he watched her smile at him, her eyebrows finally uncreasing, he hoped that whatever god was out there would not be so cruel as to make her let go.

#bingoboingobongo.com #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase fluff #adrian chase angst #adrian chase smut #adrian chase imagine #adrian chase fic #adrian chase one shot #adrian chase #peacemaker #vigilante #vigilante x reader #vigilante fluff #vigilante angst #vigilante smut #vigilante imagine

[fedtothenight]

how do I get into fragrances.... where do you get samples? is there a guide for noobs?

hiya!! firstly, i would think twice because it's rlly fucking expensive lol secondly, it really depends on your location, budget, personal taste, etc.

fragrantica is the best website for beginners - you can search up basically any fragrance for notes and reviews, and pay lots of attention to reviews, because notes on their own can be very misleading.

i would start with:

has there ever been a perfume you liked and bought? research the notes, then look through the 'silimar to' section on fragrantica and look up the notes by themselves to find similar perfumes.

what type of scents do you like? gourmand (caramel, chocolate, vanilla), clean (white musk), aromatic (lavender, rosemary), flowery (rose, jasmine, orange blossom), fruity (plum, peach, fig), etc?

if you're into that, find some influencers depending on your taste (ie perfumerism on tiktok)

research!

rock up to your local shop and smell around before you order anything online. sephora, space nk, independent shops, etc.

start with designer and graduate to niche. designer fragrances are generally more mass-appealing and less likely to make you gag (and some niche fragrances can and will make you gag), but, in many cases, just as good in quality.

don't allow influencers to put you off designer fragrances - ysl, jpg, dior, maison margiela, etc. sometimes, something is popular because it's good.

remember: spending £300/$400 or more for one bottle of perfume is and will always be insane; don't be put off dupes, because some are VERY GOOD for the fraction of a price of the original (see: sharaf blend vs angel's share); research arab perfumes - if you're into making a certain impression, they are it; no blind buys unless the blind buy is VERY cheap.

here's a few sample websites based on location: uk: tinyfragrances.co.uk, fragrancesamplesuk.com, myperfectscent.co.uk; eu: amyrisessenze, essenzanobile.de; us: twistedlily.

hope this helps!

edit and important addition: sauvage by dior is good, yet, unfortunately, the ultimate fuckboy fragrance. any man wearing that is a flag a deeper shade of red than the most. beware.

[dragongirlcloaca]

Give it up for more self-indulgent smut!!

[Extreme size difference, cum inflation, minor sheath play]

Ci rapped as loud as it could on the bottom of the apartment door, hoping its minuscule fist would be enough to alert Raya to her presence. It was just about to pull out its phone and text her when the door swung open, revealing a tall wolfgirl with a silky chocolate coat, absolutely towering over the 1’4” dragon standing outside

“Hi! Come on in!”, Raya said, smiling.

She led Ci into the apartment, careful not to step on it and giving it plenty of time to catch up to her gargantuan strides. The two entered the kitchen, and Ci fluttered up to the counter to make communication easier.

“Oh! I didn’t know dragons could fly”, said Raya, quizzical.

“Some can, but it depends”, replied Ci. “I do sometimes, but I get tired fast, and with my size I don’t really cover a lot of distance.”

“That’s still pretty neat!” the wolf said. “Tea?”

Ci nodded, and Raya went to put on the kettle.

“Sorry if it seems like I’m...well...ogling you, it’s just that I’ve never seen a dragon as small as you”, she said over her shoulder.

“It’s all good!”, Ci assured. “I’m pretty rare as they come. It certainly has its ups and downs, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I think it’s cute as well”, Raya said, grinning, and Ci blushed, its mint scales showing a faint hint of pink.

The kettle soon finished boiling, and the two sat down for tea, Ci sitting on an overturned mug and drinking out of a shot glass. The two sit and drink, making polite conversation, before the conversation eventually turns to the matter at hand.

“So, what sort of stuff did you have in mind?” Asked Raya smirking, as Ci grew redder.

“Well...um...I was kind of hoping that...you would...-”

“That I would what, Ci? Good dragons use their words”, Raya interjected, dealing a fatal blow to the dragon’s final shred of dignity and causing it to take on the appearance of a flustered tomato.

“T-that you would treat me like a toy and use me however you want!” Ci blurted out, its snout buried in its paws. “Please?”

Raya grinned, fangs barely visible. “I can certainly do that, darling. Why don’t we start with some ground rules?” She leaned over the table, dwarfing the miniature dragon and drinking in the combined expression of lust and fear on its face. “First, unlike good dragons, good toys don’t talk. I would love to gag your pretty little snout, but alas, I doubt I have a gag small enough, so I’ll trust you on that. Secondly, a good toy also doesn’t move. Starting now, you’re just a cute little dragon fucktoy, completely helpless and powerless. And lastly, I want you to be absolutely aware that if it’s ever too much, just say so and I’ll stop right away, no questions asked. Ça va?”

Ci nodded.

“Good,” said Raya. I’m sure I’ll have lots of fun with you, toy.”

Raya rose from her chair, reached over, and lifted up the Ci, slinging it over their shoulder, and strolled down the hallway to her bedroom. Once there, she set Ci down in the middle of the bed, and walked over to her dresser, and added a few drops of oil to a diffuser, sending a pleasant floral fragrance wafting through the room. She dimmed the lights, and lit several candles scattered around the room before tantalizingly shedding her casual t-shirt and jeans to reveal stunning, blood red lingerie that left little of her lithe form to the imagination. Finally, she returned to the bed, seating herself down next to Ci’s limp form.

“I like the look of this toy,” Raya said, lifting the dragon her in paws as if to inspect it. “A real keeper, if you ask me.” She frowned. “I don’t think I’ll be needing the accessories, though.”

She began stripping Ci, setting its clothes and glasses neatly aside. She set it down on her leg, deftly dragging its panties down with a single claw and discarding them.

“What do we have here?” She inquired, lifting Ci and spreading its legs to study its cloaca. “Well, a hole is a hole.”

Raya dragged a claw upwards, running it over the dragon’s soft scales and up to its snout, where she gently pried open its mouth, pushing a finger in to measure. She deemed it satisfactory, and set Ci back on bed. Raya began shedding herself of her lacy panties, exposing her fat, furred balls and sheath. She toyed with it a bit, fucking her sheath with a finger, before picking Ci back up and pushing its snout into her sheath. Raya laid back against the headboard, propping herself up as she used the dragon to fuck her sheath. Pushing it in to her sheath with one paw, she absentmindedly toyed with its breasts with the other, pinching and twisting the tiny nipples. As she slowly grew erect, she could feel the head of her cock pressing into Ci’s snout. Raya pushed down harder, and her cock forced the dragon’s mouth open. “On second thought, gags are overrated”, she thought. She bottomed out soon after as her wolfcock became too wide for the miniature dragon, but kept Ci there, coating her cock in the spit leaking from its maw.

At its full length, Raya’s impressive cock was almost as long as Ci’s entire torso. Lubing herself up with a mixture of precum, spit, and the juices beginning to drip from Ci’s needy cloaca, she wrapped the dragon around her cock, pinning its wings to its sides, and began to stroke, rubbing along its entire body along her member and stimulating herself with the scales covering its belly. She sped up her stroking slowly, albeit mindful that she was using a live dragon as a fucktoy and holding off from full throttle. Raya soon neared climax, and with a lilting howl she ejaculated, covering Ci in thick cum.

After a moment’s rest, she wiped her dick off onto the dragon’s cleanest wing, and lifted it up and licked all the way from its hips to snout, cleaning her cum off of Ci and swallowing it. Raya paused, and then, smiling, wiped off most of the remaining cum with a finger and pushed it into the dragon’s mouth and forced it to swallow. “I’m really liking this new toy. Now let’s get into the real fun.” She laid the helpless Ci out on the bed, spread-eagle, and slowly, methodically traced a sharp claw down its soft stomach, taking all the time in the world before arriving at its cloaca, a beautiful pink flower in contrast to the mint scales covering the rest of its body. Raya leaned down and gave it a taste, experimentally pushing her thick tongue into the dragon’s tight slit. She lapped at the sweet slick flowing from within, and then brushed a pinkie with its claw deliberately trimmed up against Ci’s cloaca, tenderly feeling the delicate slit.

Ever so slowly, Raya begins to push her finger into the tiny dragon, feeling its insides gradually deform as she fucks it like a finger puppet. She licks her lips, and presses her other paw to Ci’s abdomen, feeling her finger inside its guts. She slowly pulls it out a little before driving it back in, using her other paw to hold Ci down to the bed. Raya takes pleasure in fingerfucking the dragon, salivating over how adorable its diminutive form looks pinned to the bed and treated like a lifeless toy. She slows her thrusts, removing her other paw to tend to her rapidly re-hardening cock. She begins to pump her paw down her dick as she fucks Ci, only pausing to smear some of its juices on her shaft to lube it up.

Raya continued to masturbate with animalistic fury until she could feel Ci beginning to quiver round her finger as it neared climax, at which point she pulled her finger all the way out, and stroked her cock until she was moments from letting loose another flood of cum. Fully consumed by lust, she picked the dragon up with both hands, set it on the tip of her cock, and pushed the massive organ as far into its cloaca as it would go- not very far, but enough to spread Ci wide open and give both it and Raya the last bit of stimulation they needed to climax. Raya shot a massive load of hot seed into the dragon, bulging out its abdomen as she bucked her hips in ecstasy. Eventually, her orgasm faded, and she set Ci down on her chest, cum leaking onto her fur.

“How was that?” Raya asked Ci, gently stroking the dragon’s bloated stomach. “You’re free to talk again now, darling.

“That w-was amazing,” it said, stretching out before collapsing onto Raya’s breast. “I think I could go for a nap now, though.

#Writings #A1 #D1

[lazylumine]

The End Of Another Year...

Happy Birthday Zhongli~

31st december, our beloved geo archon ^^

»I recently found myself with some spare time, so I visited Qiaoying Village. Firstly, to relax, and secondly, because the end of each year is a time for giving gifts to kith and kin.

The distinctive mountains of Chenyu Vale are striking, and the waters have a delicate beauty. It certainly must be counted among the top destinations for a calming stroll.

Should you find yourself otherwise unoccupied in the future, you must come and see for yourself. As for myself, I enjoyed a slow walk the entire time, and before I knew it, the smoke from a hundred hearths filled my senses with the fragrance of food.

The world seeks shelter before the cold that comes with the year's ending, and now is the best time to invite a few close friends to sit around the fire, brewing a potof hot tea and reminiscing about the past.

A mouthful of winter tea can stave off the cold and chills, and restore one's vitality.

Yet these tea leaves are quite fragile, and cannot withstand the bumps and jolts of a long journey. I shall keep them for now, and we may brew them after you have arrived.«

#happy birthday zhongli #genshin impact #zhongli #morax #rex lapis

[milfjagger]

hi ezraaa i remember u doing a fragrance suggestion thing a while ago (as well as u being my resident mutual scent expert) and i was wondering what you would recommend to me along the lines of whatever common smell (terpene?) is in horse manure and weed tar bc they smell similar to me and i fucking love that rich and sensual of a smell + positive sense memories on both ends

ok i absolutely love everything about this and i have a couple of killer recommendations for you - first of all, corpus equus by naomi goodsir. this is a fairly challenging fragrance but if you like it i think you'll love it. everything about it gives stables, from the smell of old leather to the smell of that sticky hoof polish

and secondly, loudo by sarah baker! again, i found this fragrance challenging (oud can have a certain… stank to it) but beautiful. there’s a luxurious but dirty richness to it that i think you will really enjoy!!!

[perpetual-help]

I don't believe in God anymore, and I used to be a Christian so I wish I did. I don't get anything out of not believing in God. All the arguments against Christianity make so much sense to me and all the arguments for it are lame gotchas. I used to study apologetics a lot so I'm not just assuming the arguments are bad. This makes me really, really brokenhearted. I wish I believed in God and Christianity. But I don't, and if I start to believe someday in the future, I will just be tricking myself into believing something I know is wrong, just because I want to believe it. It's all very sad. That's all. Thank you for listening.

I’m always happy to listen. In return, I’d like to leave you with two things to think about.

Everything in this world, from the skies to the bottom of the seas, to humans, and every creature that walks this Earth points to a loving creator. We live in a world of cause and effect. You will notice that we never observe anything suddenly appearing for no apparent purpose. Rather, the opposite is true. Everything serves a purpose and is connected in ways that we continue to discover and observe to this day. It is not unreasonable, then, to believe that something must have existed outside of this to cause its existence, to pave its purpose, to put everything into motion.

Secondly, every single one of us longs for love. We long to love and to be loved in a way that cannot be satisfied with the pleasures of this world, nor with other people. Our hearts crave peace and confirm the goodness of virtues; we feel real joy and peace when we live according to God’s words.

In the words of St. Augustine:

Too late have I loved you, O Beauty so ancient, O Beauty so new. Too late have I loved you! You were within me but I was outside myself, and there I sought you! In my weakness I ran after the beauty of the things you have made. You were with me, and I was not with you. The things you have made kept me from you - the things which would have no being unless they existed in you! You have called, you have cried, and you have pierced my deafness. You have radiated forth, you have shined out brightly, and you have dispelled my blindness. You have sent forth your fragrance, and I have breathed it in, and I long for you. I have tasted you, and I hunger and thirst for you. You have touched me, and I ardently desire your peace.

Regardless of how you feel right now, I do genuinely hope and pray that you experience the love of God in your heart and return to Him. On that day, the despair you feel will give way to hope and your faith will grow. I’ll be praying for you. ❤️ Feel free to message me anytime.

#anonymous #asks

[elegantwoes]

“It is better than the songs,” she whispered when they found the places that her father had promised her, among the high lords and ladies. Sansa was dressed beautifully that day, in a green gown that brought out the auburn of her hair, and she knew they were looking at her and smiling.

Our precious cinammon roll is enjoying herself (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

“His armor is bronze, thousands and thousands of years old, engraved with magic runes that ward him against harm,” she whispered to Jeyne. Septa Mordane pointed out Lord Jason Mallister, in indigo chased with silver, the wings of an eagle on his helm. ... The twins Ser Horas and Ser Hobber, whose shields displayed the grape cluster sigil of the Redwynes, burgundy on blue. Patrek Mallister, Lord Jason’s son. Six Freys of the Crossing: Ser Jared, Ser Hosteen, Ser Danwell, Ser Emmon, Ser Theo, Ser Perwyn, sons and grandsons of old Lord Walder Frey, and his bastard son Martyn Rivers as well

Look at Sansa showing off her skils in history and heraldy.

Jeyne covered her eyes whenever a man fell, like a frightened little girl, but Sansa was made of sterner stuff. A great lady knew how to behave at tournaments. Even Septa Mordane noted her composure and nodded in approval.

GRRM subtly reminding the readers that Sansa has a certain inner strength that is rivalled by few.

The most terrifying moment of the day came during Ser Gregor’s second joust, when his lance rode up and struck a young knight from the Vale under the gorget with such force that it drove through his throat, killing him instantly ... His cloak was blue, the color of the sky on a clear summer’s day, trimmed with a border of crescent moons, but as his blood seeped into it, the cloth darkened and the moons turned red, one by one

This is clearly a foreshadowing for the Mountain Clansmen interrupting the Winged Knight's Tourney and blood spilling into the Gates of the Moon.

She had never seen a man die before. She ought to be crying too, she thought, but the tears would not come. Perhaps she had used up all her tears for Lady and Bran. It would be different if it had been Jory or Ser Rodrik or Father, she told herself. The young knight in the blue cloak was nothing to her, some stranger from the Vale of Arryn whose name she had forgotten as soon as she heard it. And now the world would forget his name too, Sansa realized; there would be no songs sung for him. That was sad

I remember in the early years of being part of the ASOIAF fandom and frequently going on the forum site Westeros.org. This scene was often used to proof that Sansa was a sociopath. Which is weird, because first of she admonishes herself for her lack of reaction and in the end she's still saddened by Ser Hugh's death. Secondly, anyone with a brain can see this scene establishes that Sansa, like her brother Bran, can keep her composure in the face of death.

Ser Loras was the youngest son of Mace Tyrell, the Lord of Highgarden and Warden of the South. At sixteen, he was the youngest rider on the field, yet he had unhorsed three knights of the Kingsguard that morning in his first three jousts. Sansa had never seen anyone so beautiful .... To the other maidens he had given white roses, but the one he plucked for her was red. “Sweet lady,” he said, “no victory is half so beautiful as you.” Sansa took the flower timidly, struck dumb by his gallantry. His hair was a mass of lazy brown curls, his eyes like liquid gold. She inhaled the sweet fragrance of the rose and sat clutching it long after Ser Loras had ridden off.

It should be noted that while Sansa initially was taken by Ser Loras beautiful looks, what made her fall for him was the romantic courtly gesture of him giving her a red rose and unofficially declaring her Queen of Love and Beauty. Meaning in order to capture Sansa's heart you have to shower her with romantic gestures. Interestingly enough, the pedophilic characters who Sansa is often shipped with (*coughs* cujo come again *coughs*) don't show any sign of being romantic enough to court Sansa in the way she wants to be courted. The oone who does fit this description is our sour patch kid Jon Snow. Now he knows how to court a lady. Your ugly pedophile fave can never compare to him (✿◡‿◡).

“You must be one of her daughters,” he said to her. He had grey-green eyes that did not smile when his mouth did. “You have the Tully look.” “I’m Sansa Stark,” she said, ill at ease. The man wore a heavy cloak with a fur collar, fastened with a silver mockingbird, and he had the effortless manner of a high lord, but she did not know him. “I have not had the honor, my lord.” Septa Mordane quickly took a hand. “Sweet child, this is Lord Petyr Baelish, of the king’s small council.” “Your mother was my queen of beauty once,” the man said quietly. His breath smelled of mint. “You have her hair.” His fingers brushed against her cheek as he stroked one auburn lock. Quite abruptly he turned and walked away.

What I would like to know is WHY ON EARTH IS SEPTA MORDANE SITTING IDLY BY AS THIS CREEP IS TOUCHING SANSA. This old woman has one job and she can't even do it right. ╰(艹皿艹 )

Sansa and Septa Mordane were given places of high honor, to the left of the raised dais where the king himself sat beside his queen. When Prince Joffrey seated himself to her right, she felt her throat tighten. He had not spoken a word to her since the awful thing had happened, and she had not dared to speak to him. At first she thought she hated him for what they’d done to Lady, but after Sansa had wept her eyes dry, she told herself that it had not been Joffrey’s doing, not truly. The queen had done it; she was the one to hate, her and Arya. Nothing bad would have happened except for Arya.

imagine reading this part and not seeing how Sansa is desperately trying to convince herself that Joffrey isn't who she thinks he is and even then she barely convinces herself by the looks of the next passage:

She could not hate Joffrey tonight. He was too beautiful to hate. He wore a deep blue doublet studded with a double row of golden lion’s heads, and around his brow a slim coronet made of gold and sapphires. His hair was as bright as the metal. Sansa looked at him and trembled, afraid that he might ignore her or, worse, turn hateful again and send her weeping from the table.

Sansa shows signs of having the battered woman syndrome. Did the fandom notice this? Did they even care about Sansa and the horrible situation is in? Of course they don't. They are too busy hating on her. This is why I fucking hate a certain section of this fandom when they speak on the so called dangers of Sansa being the ideal westerosi noble lady. When you can't understand the great nuance to why Sansa made that choice during the Trident incident and why she chose to forgive both Cersei and Joffrey then you should keep your mouth shut and never ever talk about Sansa.

And Joffrey was the soul of courtesy. He talked to Sansa all night, showering her with compliments, making her laugh, sharing little bits of court gossip, explaining Moon Boy’s japes. Sansa was so captivated that she quite forgot all her courtesies and ignored Septa Mordane, seated to her left

Notice how only after Joffrey love bombs her that Sansa finally decides to forgive him and thinks that what happened at the Trident was only a fluke. Once again does the fandom notice? Of course not. They are too busy sucking off the fan favorite characters and don't bother to understand the nuance to Sansa's chapters, especially her AGOT chapters.

“Do you need an escort back to the castle?” “No,” Sansa began. She looked for Septa Mordane, and was startled to find her with her head on the table, snoring soft and ladylike snores. “I mean to say … yes, thank you, that would be most kind. I am tired, and the way is so dark. I should be glad for some protection.”

I swear this woman is the WORST SEPTA IN PLANETOS.

Sansa could feel the Hound watching her. “Did you think Joff was going to take you himself?” He laughed. He had a laugh like the snarling of dogs in a pit ... Suddenly terrified, Sansa pushed at Septa Mordane’s shoulder, hoping to wake her, but she only snored the louder. King Robert had stumbled off and half the benches were suddenly empty. The feast was over, and the beautiful dream had ended with it.

Sansa is clearly terrified by Cujo come again and yet some people have convinced themselves that this is a grand romance.

Sansa could not bear the sight of him, he frightened her so, yet she had been raised in all the ways of courtesy. A true lady would not notice his face, she told herself. “You rode gallantly today, Ser Sandor,” she made herself say. Sandor Clegane snarled at her. “Spare me your empty little compliments, girl … and your ser’s. I am no knight. I spit on them and their vows. My brother is a knight. Did you see him ride today?” “Yes,” Sansa whispered, trembling. “He was …” “Gallant?” the Hound finished. He was mocking her, she realized. “No one could withstand him,” she managed at last, proud of herself. It was no lie. Sandor Clegane stopped suddenly in the middle of a dark and empty field. She had no choice but to stop beside him. “Some septa trained you well. You’re like one of those birds from the Summer Isles, aren’t you? A pretty little talking bird, repeating all the pretty little words they taught you to recite.” “That’s unkind.” Sansa could feel her heart fluttering in her chest. “You’re frightening me. I want to go now.”

Sansa tries to start a conversation out of politeness and this nasty man has to derride her for this. He goes on to mock her skills and even when she makes a clever comment he still denigrates her despite knowing full well that her courtesies is something she should be fucking proud of. God this man is so hateful. He can't accept anything being good and kind. Everyone needs to be as equally miserable as him. (* ￣︿￣).

Sandor Clegane put a huge hand under her chin and forced her face up. He squatted in front of her, and moved the torch close. “There’s a pretty for you. Take a good long stare. You know you want to. I’ve watched you turning away all the way down the kingsroad. Piss on that. Take your look.”

This is the second older man that touches Sansa's face without her consent, but sure tell me how cujo come again, is so much better than Pedofinger and the King of Incels.

The rasping voice trailed off. He squatted silently before her, a hulking black shape shrouded in the night, hidden from her eyes. Sansa could hear his ragged breathing. She was sad for him, she realized. Somehow, the fear had gone away. The silence went on and on, so long that she began to grow afraid once more, but she was afraid for him now, not for herself. She found his massive shoulder with her hand. “He was no true knight,” she whispered to him.

Despite the fact that cujo come again has been so rude to her, had every intention to break her spirit and her ideals, Sansa rises above it, and shows us her unyielding side. 'He was no true knight.' And she's right. Even if the insitution of knighthood is corrupt that doesn't mean chivalry isn't worth upholding. In fact it's especially in face of adversity that you should stay true to the knightly ideals. Cujo come again take note from Sansa Stark.

The Hound caught her by the arm and leaned close. “The things I told you tonight,” he said, his voice sounding even rougher than usual. “If you ever tell Joffrey … your sister, your father … any of them …” “I won’t,” Sansa whispered. “I promise.” It was not enough. “If you ever tell anyone,” he finished, “I’ll kill you.

In case you guys didn't know, threatening to kill someone is a great way to start off a romance. /s

Next chapter our reluctant detective: Ned Stark.

#asoiaf reread project #rereading agot #Sansa Stark #a little bit of Jonsa #anti asoiaf fandom #anti sandor clegane #anti sansan #i am quite opinionated in this post #so buckle up everyone

[feytouched]

scent of the day: mango skin (vilhelm parfumerie)

two immediate thoughts: firstly, compared to what i've been sampling recently, this perfume is a lot quieter than i expected. i had to spray it a couple times to get a good grasp on it. secondly: a photorealistic mango scent this is not, despite whatever perfumetok seems to claim. i do get mango, but also a lot of florals and a patchouli base that leans more synthetic and mass-market to me, and i mean this in a neutral way, but it is what it is. this is like being on holiday and stopping at the fragrance counter at the duty free shop and finding a nice tropical fruity scent, only you end up not getting it because it's 250€ - it is not the sun-warmed mango at a market stall at your destination.

this is not to say i find it a dull fragrance. there is clearly some depth to its scent structure, and it creates a bright and pleasant, if very intimate, scent cloud. and this patchouli is one of my favourites in terms of execution; it's a note that easily goes nauseating on my skin. i wish it projected further and had better longevity, so the price tag would feel a little bit more justified.

#scent of the day #vilhelm parfumerie #vp: mango skin #scents #perfume

[asphrodisiac]

𝐍𝐄𝐈𝐓𝐇 - 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭

★ ━ ❛𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 :: 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭'𝐬 "𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧," "𝐍𝐄𝐈𝐓𝐇" 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐍𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐡, 𝐚 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨-𝐄𝐠𝐲𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐄𝐠𝐲𝐩𝐭. 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞.

⊹ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 :: 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐱 𝐎𝐂 (𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭)

⊹ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 :: 𝐏𝐞����𝐢𝐨𝐝-𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐠𝐲𝐧𝐲, 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈𝐈 𝐎𝐟 𝐌𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐧, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 (𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐲), 𝐧𝐨𝐧-𝐜𝐨𝐧, 𝐝𝐮𝐛-𝐜𝐨𝐧, 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐦, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐬

Chapter one

Dearest Mother,

I have much to tell. Firstly, I miss you dearly. Secondly, I have made some interesting discoveries here in Macedonia. It seems the Macedonian Queen is ensnared in a black magic cult. She surrounds herself with serpents and partakes in rituals devoted to Bacchus.

Moreover, I’ve learned that the status of women in Macedonia is disheartening. We are treated as mere ornaments, subject to the whims of men. Our days are spent confined to domestic tasks, such as weaving and tea ceremonies. Occasionally, the Queen grants me leave to attend to a makeshift altar I’ve erected in honor of our family deity, Neith.

We are severely restricted in our movements, unable to venture to the market or engage in activities without the approval of men. It is a stifling existence, to say the least. Additionally, I must confess that the sanitation practices here leave much to be desired. Chamber pots are still in use, and the absence of soap is keenly felt.

The cuisine is lacking, and I find myself yearning for the comforts of home. Could you please send some sweet fragrances, soaps, and perhaps some dates if available? Your thoughtful gestures would bring much solace.

With love and longing,

Neith

She rolled up the paper, poured wax onto it and pressed her family seal into the wax before calling for a courier. “Ensure that this letter reaches my mother,” she instructed, then dismissed him.

It had been a mere two months since Neith’s arrival in Macedonia, yet she already felt exhausted and eager to depart. The atmosphere was oppressive, and the court politics were a labyrinth of deceit.

As she had suspected, her father’s motives for bringing her to Macedonia were not entirely altruistic. He sought to establish her as an ally of Queen Olympias, particularly in the absence of her closest confidante.

Neith discovered that Olympias was not the sole Macedonian Queen; Philip had had wives before and after her. However, Olympias wielded greater influence due to her status as the mother of the King’s presumed heir.

Despite her position, Olympias was far from Phillip’s favorite. In fact, he harbored resentment towards her, and many courtiers viewed her with suspicion and disdain. While the label of “witch” may have some truth to it, Neith found Olympias to be more misunderstood than truly malevolent.

Once, Olympias relied on her status as the mother of the King’s heir for protection. However, recent events had eroded her trust in her son, who now seemed to be under his father’s influence.

Feeling isolated and paranoid about her safety, Olympias turned to Neith for support. As an Egyptian with no ties to the Macedonian court save for her father, Neith possessed a unique advantage. Moreover, her proficiency in writing and speaking Hieroglyphs rendered her communications indecipherable to the court.

Neith’s intelligence and discretion made her an ideal ally for Olympias. Additionally, her mother’s role as a supplier of grain and other goods to Macedonia meant that Neith held considerable sway over trade relations between the two nations, ensuring that few dared to cross her for fear of damaging Macedonian-Egyptian relations.

Antipatros, who had been acting as regent in the absence of both Alexander and Philip, sensed that something was amiss. Olympias, usually a commanding presence in court, had grown uncharacteristically submissive, especially after her closest confidante’s departure.

When Themistocles introduced his Egyptian-Macedonian daughter to the court and announced her assumption of Lanice’s position, Antipatros’s suspicions grew. While he harbored doubts about the Egyptian girl, he saw no immediate need to bring the matter to the attention of Alexander and Philip who were embroiled in warfare. To him, it seemed like a mere squabble among women, hardly deserving of the King or the Crown Prince’s attention.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 :: 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭. 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @aphroditelovesu ’ “𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧” 𝐚𝐧𝐝 @floatyflowers ’ “𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫” 𝐈’𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲.

#alexander the great #alexander iii of macedon #historical figures x reader

[donfadrique]

Previous part

Part Seven

14/🗡️

So, we will not just return to the possible homoerotic plot line—I will be extremely sincere in my conclusions, because my goal was to understand the intention of the director and the film crew.

Let me immediately say about the only negative thing about the scene, and close this issue.

Tyrone Power's poorly drawn mustaches annoy me :) Maybe this was done on purpose, but they annoy ME aesthetically xDD Well, let's move on.

This scene is ambiguous. Look, Diego comes to the party with a lorgnette, begins to act mannered and explains his lateness by saying that his bath was tepid etc. In general, everyone is indifferent to this—except Captain Pasquale, who tells his mistress Inez, "His bath was tepid. Poor Lolita. I'm afraid her wedded life will be the same."

This can be interpreted in two ways: Pasquale considers Diego to be a pampered and weak fop, unable to use either a steel sword or the sword that he has in his pants (it is believed that men who are too careful about their appearance are not, erm, temperamental). But this could also be a hint at Diego's homosexuality (remember the book's canonical "he seldom wears a blade, and I doubt whether he can use one", "the flashing dark eyes of lovely señoritas do not disturb him", and even "he may wear petticoats, if it please him").

Why does Pasquale say this? Because he is angry that Inez is infatuated with Diego. Regardless of his sexual orientation, Diego is the Captain's rival (which Pasquale says directly when he sticks a knife into the fruit, hinting to Diego that he would like to do the same with the young man; on the other hand, if someone wants to see in this act of violence against the fruit act of same-sex love, then who am I to restrain your fantasy? xD)

Perhaps the Captain wants to tell Inez that Diego is physically incapable of satisfying her, but he cannot say it directly because that would be an insult.

It is beneficial for Diego that Captain Pasquale sees him not just as a weakling and a dandy, but as a "gay caballero" (an expression from Guy Williams). Why?

Well, firstly, this is a book canon, and we are dealing with a film adaptation.

Secondly, it is beneficial for Diego that Captain Pasquale, instead of envy of his rival, begins to feel complacency, seeing that handsome Don Diego Vega, the son of a rich man, is fascinated by a "second-rate soldier of fortune" who is much older than himself.

So Diego, sitting at the table opposite the Captain, begins to flirt with him so openly that even a blind monk would have seen it xDD

However, as a result, Pasquale is more surprised and wary than charmed (the Captain is not a fool, and Diego is more likely to mock him than flirts, and, if you look closely, Diego’s black gaze is much harsher than the Captain’s gray one).

Captain Esteban Pasquale: I had the misfortune to kill a man of influence.

Don Luis Quintero: A lady was involved, I believe.

Don Diego Vega: The gentleman's wife, no doubt?

Captain Esteban Pasquale: Just how did you mean that, señor?

Don Diego Vega: I had hoped to be amusing... Have I failed?

Captain Esteban Pasquale: Somewhat. With me.

Diego dances with Lolita and proposes marriage to her (more precisely, to her uncle, and Lolita herself, disappointed in Diego and in love with Zorro, runs away—later Diego/Zorro will pay a visit to her bedroom).

Vega also demonstrates magic tricks again (this Diego has a variety of skills: he knows how to flirt with men and to handle weapons, shows magic and acrobatic tricks, understands fragrances etc).

Diego tells Inez that his marriage will help their extramarital affair remain a secret, but Inez is too jealous and tries to dissuade Lolita from the marriage. It's funny that not only does she not consider Diego incapable of loving a woman, she doesn't even notice how Diego flirt with the Captain (Inez is too confident in her attractiveness to pay attention to such things).

At the end of this scene, Diego admits to his mother that he is not indifferent to Lolita.

NB! Thinking about Diego's "ghostliness", attractiveness, cunning and mockery, I suddenly remembered... kitsune. Kitsune, a mythical creature in Asian mythology and folklore, a fox with supernatural powers. Often plays the role of a trickster. According to legends, it lives for hundreds and even thousands of years, and can also turn into other animals and humans.

There's something about it. Yes, of course, El Zorro is only a mortal, but he's unique.

#zorro #the mark of zorro #tyrone power #basil rathbone #linda darnell #40s film #40s movies #40s #silver screen #hollywood #homoerotism #homoerotic #pics #noble bandits #dance #love #lovers #movies #cinema #retro aesthetic #retro #diego de la vega #diego vega #don diego de la vega #esteban pasquale #lolita quintero #inez quintero #california #bixesuality #fanvid

[gauri-vishalakshi]

Meenamma Pt. 3

"Ram?"

---

The man in question stared back at Meena, openmouthed and clearly shocked. Lady Scott's expression soured a little. "Ah, you two know each other? Perfect! Go change, Mary, and we'll get you married immediately!" "First of all, my name is not Mary. Secondly, what do you mean immediately?" "Right now! What do you think the gala's for?"

Ignoring Meena's protests, the wretched woman pushed her into a dressing room, where a white salwar hung solitarily on a rack. "You'll get married in front of civilized people in white, and then you'll have a private, ahem, ceremony in front of the brown people. I don't give a damn what you wear then." Meena rolled her eyes to hide the myriad of emotions within her as a pair of diamond-studded earrings were shoved into her ears by a nearby maid.

---

Meena was conflicted. She supposed she could've married worse, but then again, she had spent two weeks in Ram's company and never once had he let slip his profession. Loyal. That was how Lord Scott had described him. But would he be loyal to jailed, restricted her or those who held her chains?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a suit-clad Ram within the ballroom. Had he always been that handsome? A treacherous voice at a far corner of her brain whispered, though she was primarily preoccupied on the fact that she was getting married. Without her consent, or, apparently, her very-soon-to-be-husband's. It's not that she already had a boyfriend or anything (she was far too career-oriented to care about men), but Meena didn't want to get married this soon simply because she didn't want her wings clipped like so many of her female friends had.

Her "father" took her arm in his and walked her to the altar, clutching her hand in almost a death-grip. And before she knew it, the priest had said: you may kiss the bride. Meena and Ram froze, staring at each other with wide, slightly terrified eyes. In the haste of the surprise marriage, they had (both, evidently) forgotten the "kissing" part of the ceremony. Looking around hesitantly, Meena felt fury rise up in her at the smug look on Lady Scott's face. Oh, the bitch was enjoying this, wasn't she? Then why don't I give her a show? Meena had never been particularly patient (unless she was with patients) and prided herself on being spontaneous.

And at the height of her anger-fueled spontaneity, she wrapped her hands around the base of Ram's neck, prompting an instinctual movement of his right hand to her cheek and somehow, they ended up in a kiss. Ram smelled like ink and gunpowder, with a tint of the smoky scent dying embers carried as they flickered, desperate to stay aflame. On the other hand, Meena carried a distinct aleatory fragrance of jasmine flowers, chloroform, turmeric and the smell of the earth after rain, fresh and pure and resembling the banks of the Godavari after a monsoon storm.

The smell brought flickers of memories to Ram's mind. Tinkling anklets, bell-like laughter, two little braids. Chelithaara. Ram’s eyes fluttered open as he gently broke the kiss. No. He told himself. She’s gone. And he looked straight into the beautiful brown eyes that looked so painfully like the ones he’d left behind so long ago.

---

Meena looked at Ram in confusion, wondering at the sudden teary film covering his eyes. "Ram?" She inquired softly, breaking him out of his thoughts. The glassiness in his eyes cleared a bit. "Ippudu endhuku yedustunnavu? Nannu pelli chesukunnandhuka? Nenu Mari antha balena?" ('Why are you crying now? Is it because you married me? Am I that bad?') Ram let out a watery chuckle as, to her relief, he seemed grounded in the present once more. "Nothing of the sort, Meenamma. In fact, the exact opposite. You are probably my best option in this scenario." Meena immediately felt a twinge of guilt at his words about her being his "best option", as hadn't she been wondering, just moments ago, about how he may not be hers? Ram bumped his shoulder against hers, interrupting her musings. "Now, are you ready for our second wedding?" Meena groaned, nudging her "husband" as he laughed back at her.

---

A/N: special thanks to @sivuda for helping me adjust the Telugu translation!

#rrr #ram x wife!oc #ram x oc #arranged marriage #meenamma