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#now there is a mashup i had not once ever considered
thydungeongal · 4 months
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Best system to run Pride & Prejudice & Zombies?
Okay, I have a bunch of ideas for this:
My first idea was to take an existing game that already does regency romance and make an unholy mashup of it and a more combat centric game. Something like Good Society (which I have not played but have heard a lot of praise for) combined with, hmmm, I want to say All Flesh Must Be Eaten (a classic zombie action game powered by Unisystem). However, I'm not sure if I'm sold on it, because it would mean that the regency romance and zombie parts of the game would be in very different silos, with little interaction.
My second idea was a Lasers & Feelings hack. But I wouldn't name the stat pair Pride & Prejudice because I'm having a hard time explaining how they would work. Instead, I would name the stat pair Sense (rational thought, careful, considered actions) & Sensibility (emotional intelligence, passionate, impromptu actions) and go with the standard Lasers & Feelings system of dividing one part of your numbers range as you "Sense" and the other as "Sensibility."
But I wouldn't use a d6. Because there would be a third stat. Zombie. Which starts at 0.
The game would use d12s and you have to divide that d12 between your Sense and Sensibility. For an example, you could set 1-4 as your Sense and 5-12 as your Sensibility. However, if you ever get bitten by a zombie, you gain the Zombie stat, and you have to set aside one of the numbers on the d12 for the Zombie stat. From now on, any time one of your dice rolls your Zombie number, you increase your Zombie number. Once the whole range of 1 to 12 is Zombie, your character becomes a Zombie and you're out of play.
Do note that this was just a silly idea I had while thinking about this. In fact I have zero actual idea how I would run a Pride and Prejudice and Zombies game. But if you feel like this silly idea of mine has any merit, feel free to expand upon it. :D
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dominimoonbeam · 3 months
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Bite to Bruise - 28
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This work is mine and I do not give consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted without my permission. I am sharing chapters as I work on this story but it is copyrighted material that I plan to rework and publish when completed.
story tags: modern-fantasy mashup, werewolves, witches, monsters, romance, learning to trust, hurt/comfort, blood, violence, explicit sex, explicit language
The earlier parts can be found under the tag or over on patreon. <3
BITE TO BRUISE - CHAPTER 28.
Bellamy sat on the floor, legs crossed and fingers tracing loops on the doorframe.
She didn’t realize she was humming at first. It wasn’t really her. It was the echo of something in the craft. The first time she had portalled had been an accident, an act of desperation, that took her from the arms of danger and dropped her in the autumn cold of the woods.
She still remembered that deep loneliness and betrayal woven into pain and bloodshed. She had pressed her little cheek to the icy ground, looking for solace. The roots and dirt sang to her, soothing, coming out as a hum in her own throat.
It took her years to learn to portal at will, to turn that reflex into a reliable ability.
Ever sat on the floor of the room with her, his back to the wall and his eyes on her every move. He had asked how she did what she did, and she had tried to explain. It came out a lot like a bird trying to explain flying, though. There was no science to it that they knew. They flew because they had wings and it was either that or fall.
She wove magic because it was in her to do it, and it was either that or die. The magic had to come out and her ability grew stronger with every use. It wasn’t a well that could be tapped. It was her. Like muscle. Use it or lose it. Lose it and die.
“Will you need to work on it from the other side?” he asked.
Bellamy nodded. “Soon.” She took her hand away from the frame and sighed. She could see the spellcraft on the door, but she knew he couldn’t. She wasn’t sure anyone but another witch could see it. Maybe the midnights and the sunrisen? Maybe not. Midnights had been known to have their own magic, something even stranger than hers. But there had never been any stories about sunrisen magic, not as craft anyway. It was hard not to call their abilities magic, though. They flew, after all. Some with wings of feathers and some with wings of light, and they were known to wield weapons just as intangible to other hands. What was that, if not a sort of magic?
She sighed and turned to look at her wolf. He was waiting for her gaze, like he had known it was coming his way—or maybe he had just been watching her all that time.
“I had an idea,” Bellamy said.
Ever raised an eyebrow, his mouth quirking with a smile.
Bellamy rolled onto her knees and crawled that short distance to him, resettling in his lap, facing him.
The quirk was a full smile now, his arms around her waist. “If your idea is to fuck in my brother’s room, I think I’m finally going to disappoint you…”
Bellamy laughed, her arms curling around the back of his neck. “No. I was thinking we could try warding some of the houses against shades, so they can’t get inside. Of course, there are obvious risks…”
“Such as?”
Bellamy frowned. “Well, if they have the time, they might just knock the house down or burn it… No ward would stop them from being able to do that and once the certain beams were broken, the ward would fall.”
Ever frowned. That was a risk, but at least it would come with a warning, as opposed to shades simply walking into their homes. “Why didn’t you ward your cottage against them, if it’s something you can do?” She clearly hadn’t, since Soren had tossed the little place looking for Piper.
Bellamy ran her fingertips along the back of his neck. “I’d need shade blood to create a ward like that. …A lot of shade blood, actually.”
Ever’s hands reflexively squeezed her hips, but his yellow eyes considered it.
“We can dig up Soren when the ground thaws, if you’re willing to try making the wards for us, that is.”
Soren. She resisted the urge to rub at the side of her neck. The bruising from his bites were almost gone, but the cuts were still healing. She didn’t like the idea of releasing him from his grave even if it was just to bleed him for a while before putting him back. He knew what she was. If he got loose…
“We don’t have to do it,” Ever said, somehow reading her worry on her face. And then he grinned, wolfish. “Or we could find a new shade. From the sound of things, it shouldn’t be hard to get our hands on another one.”
Bellamy wrinkled her nose. Blackwell and Primrose. Ever had told her about the call and his current situation with Florian Blackwell.
Florian had been the same shade looking for that box with the midnight curse on it, the one leaving deep scars curling up her arm. Bellamy wished she had been nosier as a seeker of lost things… It might help to know now what had been inside that damned box.
If she wasn’t such a coward, could she do more than just ward houses for Ever? If she wasn’t so scared of the shades realizing what she was and where she was, could she protect them? Had she ever been able to do anything more than run?
Ever fingered her hair back from her face, stroking her scalp. “Come back,” he whispered.
She blinked, meeting those deep yellow eyes and realizing that she’d been too deep in thought.
He smiled gently. “Where did you go?”
“Nowhere,” she lied.
He touched her neck and dragged a thumb across her jaw. “If the shades come again, you can portal, right? You can go to that house of yours on the sea.”
She stared at him. Was he really giving her permission to run? To abandon him when the next threat came?
Of course, he was.
The real question was, when had she stopped wanting to run?
He cupped her cheek, like she was precious. “Drop the glamour for me?” he asked so softly.
For a second, she thought she’d misheard him. “Why?”
He sighed, his other hand still on her hip, his thumb rolling circled against her skin not unlike the circles she’d been tracing into her spell. Was her wolf a witch, enchanting her? It felt like it sometimes. “I want to kiss you.”
Bellamy grinned. “Then kiss me. These lips are better.”
The last hints of his smile faded.
She leaned back to look at his whole face, his whole expression. That crease was in his brow—the one he got when he was worried or overthinking something. “This glamour doesn’t cost me anything to hold up,” she said. It wasn’t entirely true but it wasn’t a complete lie either. It didn’t cost her much. She had built it off herself so long ago that it was second nature to hold it up. It was more than a mask. It was her to some extent. “It’s not a falsehood or a stolen face,” she tried to explain. It wasn’t like when she had pretended to be Piper.
Ever watched her carefully, nodding slowly. He still had a hand to the side of her face, fingertips ghosting against skin. “And I love it. This face, this skin, this body you made. They are beautiful and they are you, Bellamy. But you made this to survive, right? To hide?”
She unlaced her arms from around his neck, sitting taller in his lap. Her hands settled against his chest, not completely retracting from him. She could lie. It wasn’t like he would call her on it. But what was the point if she did? She had created Bellamy to give herself a safe way to interact with the world—a way to hide Wren. And now? Wren was still her, that broken face and scarred body was hers, always. She had still worn it when she was alone. But it had become a secret, something to hide.
“You don’t have to,” Ever said, watching her think with those cunning fenrir eyes.
“I know that,” she snapped, but it was toothless.
His hand settled against the side of her neck, as if covering that healed bite with his palm. He wouldn’t even be able to feel the scabs with her glamour up.
“You’ve seen it,” Bellamy countered. He had seen her true form more than anyone else in her adult life.
“You,” he corrected gently. “I’ve seen you.”
“So why do you want to look again? If you’re worried about the wounds, they’re mostly healed. I told you—”
“I want to kiss you.”
She stared at him, his eyes and then his mouth and then back to his eyes.
That quirk of a smile pulled at the corner of his lips.
She smirked back. “Well, I promise, this mouth is better for that.”
His almost-smile fell. “Why?”
The icy wind outside battered the wall and rattled the window in its frame.
“You don’t have to share Wren with me,” Ever said. “But I want you to know you can. I’ve seen you, witch.” He touched her mouth, fingertip stroking her bottom lip over a scar he could not possibly feel through this glamour down to where it ended on her chin. Had he memorized it from those moments he’d seen her true face? “You are devastating in every form you take.”
Devastating.
She shivered. Yes. She felt devastating. How did he make that sound good?
Bellamy stood up and stepped back.
His arms unraveled from her, never even trying to stop her from breaking contact.
His head rolled back against the wall to look up at her standing over him like it was the most natural thing.
She swallowed down her hesitations and held out her hand for him.
He took it and rose to his feet, letting her lead him out of Sunny’s old bedroom and down the hall, to his.
It was easier to drop the glamour with her back to him, to lose height between steps, her legs shorter and paler, his shirt suddenly larger on her body.
She tried not to look down at herself—tried not to think about it—but it was impossible. She was cataloguing the ruin of her body as he might not be seeing it.
That deep scar down her thigh, puckering skin and ending at her knee. She’d gotten into a scrap when she was a teen with some rays and fallen hard, portaling in a panic only to come out the other end tumbling down a rocky hillside. She’d gotten the cut from the rocks, not the rays. If she’d held her ground rather than run away, she might have saved herself from that one. Or she might have died… Hard to say in hindsight.
His thumb stroked the back of her knuckles, one less finger in his hand.
Most of her scars had stories attached, good ones, wild ones. She had seen most of the world and gotten in trouble just about everywhere she went. She was a seeker, after all. She found lost things, sometimes lost people. Her favorite hunts had been for intangible things, songs and words lost by immortals. She had a card for just about every library with public access and a few private ones too. But she’d never told anyone any of those stories.
They walked into his bedroom and he kicked the door shut with a soft click, his fingers gently touching her hair and sending a wave of chills down her spine. Why did it feel different? It was the same hair, just black now and flatter.
He had seen her before, but a part of her still hesitated to face him.
Her face had been a secret since she was a child.
It was hers. Precious only to her. Her body was covered in the receipts of a secret life. Bellamy had no scars because nothing could hurt her—nothing could ever really touch her. But Wren? Wren had felt everything. Wren remembered everything. Wren had been broken over and over, often healing wrong. Her cheekbone was misshapen and the bridge of her nose had a crook. She’d been young then and hadn’t known to try to set anything straight. She’d been too scared to touch those breaks, afraid of the pain.
With a sigh, she let go of his hand, dragging it through her hair like there was any way to change this moment. He had asked. He had wanted to see her. If he rejected her now… Well, she would do what she was great at. She would run. But even in her own mind, behind the walls of denial, she knew there would be a heartbreak she could never outrun.
She turned around, like it was nothing, like she wasn’t a coward, and he wasn’t gorgeous staring down at her ruined form. Wren. Devastation was right.
She crossed one arm under her smaller breasts, grabbing hold of her other arm above the bandages. They weren’t as thick as they had been just a few days ago. The deep cuts from the iron curse were healing well. She’d leave off the bandage in a few days to let those scabs finish healing in open air.
The shirt she wore hung off one boney shoulder.
Ever didn’t turn his attention immediately to the healing wound on her neck like he had the last time she let him see through her glamour. This wasn’t the same. This wasn’t about making sure she was patched up. She hadn’t realized until his gaze started freely roaming her skin, that he had tried not to before.
A couple times she thought for sure he’d ask about a scar and was surprised to realize how much she wanted to tell him those stories. Adventures and close calls. No one had ever caught or caged her, not since Baron and she hadn’t known she was caged then.
Her skin rose and tingled everywhere his gaze went.
He brought his hand up slowly to her face, fingertips pushing aside black hair and his thumb gently tracing the misshapen bone in her nose and then the other in her cheek. He had seen these when they were fresh. She had gotten them in the struggle with Baron, or maybe in the aftermath when she brought down the ceiling. It was a haze of panic, betrayal, and pain to her now. And then that same thumb returned to her mouth, ghosting over the thick scar there in her bottom lip down to her chin.
Wren turned her face up, not down. She parted her lips and drew a breath to answer that unspoken question about where, when, and how.
Ever leaned in and kissed her. It wasn’t the slow lean and linger where he’d wait for her to close the distance and kiss him like he’d done so many times before. It wasn’t a quiet offer or a tentative reassurance. He kissed her like he’d been searching for her and afraid he’d never find her.
It tasted like desperation, breathing life into a part of her she didn’t know was dying.
She grabbed at his shoulders, practically pulling herself up him. His arms were there, quick to wrap around and lift her against him. Nothing significant had changed about how he touched her. There was no unease or new caution. They kissed like they hadn’t been doing exactly this every day since the snowfall began, like they’d both been deprived for too long.
In a few steps, he was dropping forward with her onto the bed, her arms still around the back of his neck when she landed on the mattress. He sucked and licked at the scar in her lip before finally breaking the kiss to pull her shirt up and off of her, leaving her in nothing but a pair of underwear on his bed beneath him.
He pushed her back flat, those yellow eyes darting over her skin.
Ever leaned down, pressing his face to her sternum, between her small breasts, and dragged in a deep breath like he was trying to fill his lungs with her. The mattress on either side of her groaned with the phantom of his wolf, a low rumble in his chest and vibrating from his mouth into her skin as he dragged his lips lower.
She realized he was scenting her without that layer of the glamour over her, masking her.
Wren shivered at that new and intoxicating sense of exposure.
He groaned against her stomach and curled fingers into her underwear, dragging them off her. He licked that deep scar in her thigh, and then ghosted teeth across her hip, making her gasp and squirm, one hand shooting down to burying digits in his hair.
Before she could ask a question she damn well knew the answer to, he had his face between her thighs and his tongue inside her.
The witch arched, eyes closing and fingers twisting in his hair.
He pushed his tongue deeper and rumbled another eager growl, making her shudder.
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yoonieper · 1 year
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Oh Holy Night | KNJ
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Heaven is where you are. 
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❅ Paring: Namjoon x Reader
❅ Genre: Fluff
❅ Rated: W for Wonder
❅ Warnings: None, just softness and pretty things :3
❅ Word Count: 2.3k
❅ Prompt: “Winter Wonderland” 
❅ Summary: Your beautiful winter prince takes you out for ice skating, something he promised would be magical~ 
❅ Thank you: Thank you so much @jamaisjoons once again for the banner~
❅ Now Playing: Soon and Let Me Be Your Wings mashup from the movie Thumbelina (cover by Nick Pitera) (Highly recommend to listen to while reading, big hint, it goes with the story ‼️) and Crystal Snow by BTS 
❅ Author’s Note: Hey babies~ This was a bit rushed (like everything these days lol), but I've had this in the drafts since last year and I'm happy to finally have it out 🥺~ This is the last of the holiday fics I have planned to publish this time around, but I also have maknae line fics for the upcoming winter season/christmas that will be out in December so this isn't the end! This is just pure, soft Namjoon appreciation so hope y'all enjoy!
No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much :D
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It was his idea to take you out to the ice skating rink. You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t shocked, knowing how clumsy your boyfriend could be at times, but he insisted that he wanted to go with you. How could you refuse?  
You ended up in a rink at the edge of town. You had looked all over to find one outdoors knowing that’s what he preferred, but your little town only had the rink open at the college that practically consumed the place you call home. That wasn't enough to dissuade him, and you both made it a date.
Upon getting there, your face lit up seeing how they chose to decorate it. Paintings of school mascots and school achievements were hidden behind streamers and fairy lights were strung to a point at the top of the ceiling. 
“It’s beautiful…” You sighed, relieved that this could in somewhat make up for the fact you were at a college skating rink and not the beautiful outdoor date your boyfriend had pictured. 
You turned toward him and saw that smile you’ve already begun to fall in love with as he watched a few couples skate by. You’ve only been dating a few months, but these months have been better than you ever could have expected. You were in love, it happened so fast but you didn’t want to look back whatsoever. 
You were brought back to reality when you felt the gentle tug of his hand to one of the benches. Namjoon already had skates beforehand and he surprised you earlier with a pair of your very own. They were both matching white skates with shiny, silver blades, and the minute he put them on you couldn’t help but think he looked like a Disney prince. His fluffy white sweater (one you were also wearing) seemed to sparkle under the dim light, which matched his entire white ensemble, something you both purposefully coordinated to blend in with the winter wonderland. 
You couldn’t help but blush when he reached his hand out to help you up, maybe it was just your eyes playing tricks on you but there seemed to be almost this heavenly glow that radiated off of him. He really was your Disney prince. 
You were helplessly enamored with the man in front of you. 
“Do you know how to skate?” He asked so gently. 
“A little, enough so I shouldn’t fall… too many times.” You laughed and he couldn’t help but join in. 
“Well don’t worry. I’ll catch you if you fall.” He smiled and you could have just melted right there. You knew he would.
“You know how to skate?” You asked him as well. It might seem like a dumb question considering it was him who suggested coming to the ice rink, but you were still having a hard time picturing your clumsy boyfriend somehow managing himself on thin blades across slippery ice. 
Joon guided you over to the railing right before one of the entrances to the rink. He smiled at you before easily maneuvering himself across the barrier.
You thought this would be a quick demonstration that he in fact did know how to skate, he’d go around once and you’d be proven wrong. 
Never in a million years did you expect your boyfriend to so gracefully glide across the ice. You were enthralled as you saw him so easily round the corners, before spinning around and skating backwards. If he didn’t take your breath away before, when he skated towards the center of the rink and jumped up, doing a fancy spin, before perfectly landing and flashing you one of those signature smiles.
You felt just as stunned as all the other people who were skating around the rink, your mouth could practically touch the ground at how far it dropped. 
A mother who was holding the hand of her daughter passed you and mouthed you an impressed “wow” as your boyfriend began skating back to you. 
You honestly had no words. 
You didn’t have any words when he made it back over to you either, and all you could do was look at him with so much admiration as he helped you onto the ice. 
There were truly no words to describe the experience. You felt like a character in a movie as he held onto your hand and you both easily slid across the ice, everyone in the rink seeming to only be able to focus on the both of you. 
You didn’t notice, too busy looking at how handsome your lovely boyfriend was. You were tempted to ask where he learned to skate like that, but you found yourself tongue tied still as you fawned at how he beamed despite all the commotion because of everyone watching you.
You did a couple simple laps around the rink, mostly Namjoon letting you get used to being on the ice once again. You almost tripped once right as you both started making your way around, but Namjoon’s grip on you was enough to keep you up. You hardly did much to be honest, you were having a little too much fun being pulled around as jealous people whispered how lucky you were and how handsome and charming your boyfriend was. 
You truly were. 
Namjoon leaned down to whisper in your ear.
“Just focus on me.” You didn’t have time to question it before suddenly, instead of skating beside you, Namjoon skated around and pulled your other hand into his as well so he was facing you.
Part of you wanted to say something about how you definitely weren’t as good of a skater as him, but then you remembered how he said he’d catch you if you fall. Instead you looked into his eyes as he started pulling you along with him. 
It was strange, the world around you seemed to disappear as the only thing you could see was him. 
No longer were you in this college rink, with the eyes of everyone watching you both, but it was just you and him together in a true winter wonderland. 
You don’t understand what his gaze did to you, you had been so worried about embarrassing yourself on the way over, but as you looked into Namjoon’s eyes all you could focus on was how much you admired the man in front of you. 
Namjoon slowly began pulling you along and you didn’t know how but suddenly the routine he had in mind started to unfold. 
You hardly noticed the snow beginning to fall from the sky steadily, your eyes remained trained to his as he spun you around across the ice. In any normal situation you would have fallen straight on your face, but no, instead you were able to maintain your balance and couldn’t help but beckon over your winter prince. 
Instead of the white fluffy sweater you watched as the snow began to transform his outfit into a suit of the purest white you had ever seen and a short cape that sparkled like snowflakes as it flowed behind him.   
The snow began to paint an icey wonderland around you both, a large frozen river was now your skating rink and the snow covered trees coated the edges. The air around you both was hot despite the temperature that should be freezing, but why wouldn’t it be when he was here with you. 
You smiled as you watched him go down the river slightly before he happily returned back to you. He flashed you that infamous dimpled smile before taking a polite bow, ready to guide you down the river. 
You giggled slightly, before you curtseyed– you hardly paid any attention to the fact your own cozy sweater was replaced with a short dress that came down just above the knee, it was almost akin to a ballerina’s skirt and was made of that same beautiful material as your boyfriend's cape. Underneath the material was fluffy white fur, the same material that made up the short jacket you were wearing. You might have also noticed the sparkling tiara above your head, but who cares about that anyway when you have this beautiful man in front of you. 
As soon as you took his hand, almost like that was a cue, a bewitching symphony began to play as you both skated hand in hand down the river. 
But neither you nor Namjoon mentioned it as you marveled at the sights around you. A fluffle of white bunnies jumped around in the snow by the banks, a couple of snowy owls hooted at you both as you passed by the trees, and doves danced and dove above your heads. 
The whole world around you seemed to glow and sparkle, the sun shining up above reflected off the snow, making everywhere you turned seem to illuminate with life. It was as if the ground itself was covered in crystals. 
“Let me be your wings.
Leave behind the world you know.
For another world of wondrous things.”
Namjoon spun you around before lifting you up. You couldn’t help but laugh, finding the whole situation unbelieve, but your heart was full as you soared down the river. You couldn’t be happier, you couldn’t be more free.  
You both made it to where the river had pooled at some point, giving you a little more room to move around. 
Namjoon took the opportunity to let go of your hand, fancily skating around you before stopping at the other end of the pond. 
It was then the sounds of a beautiful orchestral piece filled your head like the soundtrack of a movie as you glided across the ice. It was as if you had been doing this for years, the way your body moved so naturally to the melodies playing in your head. 
Namjoon easily joins into your rhythm, as you skate around the pond he embraces you in his arms before lifting you up.
“Anything that you desire, anything at all.
Everyday I’ll take you higher
And I’ll never let you fall.”
You never felt more free, more loved than in his arms– you knew he would always have you. 
You both danced to the music that played, your blades carried you across the ice mindlessly, you both were too into each other to really know what you were doing. But you didn’t mind, you loved the way he carried you, spun you around, and held you in your arms like the most delicate thing in this world. You felt more fragile than the ice all around you. 
You both laughed slightly when you both stopped before continuing down the river. You could hardly pay attention to the enchanting winter land around you both as you looked into his eyes.
“Let me be your wings
Let me be the one you love
Let me take you far beyond the stars.”
All you could focus on was him, the dazzling man in front of you and how perfect he was in this snowy forest. This was his element, his home. 
Hand in hand you continued down the river but for a second you turned forward, a little surprised to see the icy pathway you’d been skating on was coming to a sudden drop. 
“We'll see the universe and dance on Saturn's rings.
Fly with me and I will be your wings.”
Your boyfriend never faltered in his pace, not caring about the drop ahead. You didn’t either, you knew he had you. 
Before you could grasp what was happening, Namjoon spun you around and pulled you close. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as you looked into his enchanting blue eyes and suddenly the ground was no longer beneath you. 
You were falling, but not for long as you watched these majestic wings appear behind your boyfriend. Your glorious ice prince, who shined brighter than the sun up above, as his wings carried you both through the sky.
You both never once stopped dancing, the sky your new rink as he easily spun you around. You never felt more out of your element yet at the same time couldn’t feel more comforted, it was a giant leap of faith you took, and he made sure to catch you with the warmest embrace. 
You knew he would never let you go.
“Let me be your wings
Leave behind the world you know
For another world of wondrous things.
We'll see the universe and dance on Saturn's rings.
Fly with me and I will be your wings.
Anything that you desire,
Anything at all.
(Anything at all.)
Everyday I'll take you higher
And I'll never let you fall.
You will be me my wings
(Let me be your wings)
You will be my only love
Get ready for a world of wondrous things
(Wondrous things are sure to happen)
We'll see the universe and dance on Saturn's rings.
Heaven isn't too far.
Heaven is where you are,
Stay with me and let me (you) be your wings.”
You could hardly believe the sounds of the applause as you finally looked around to see everyone back in the college ice rink staring at you both, with smiles on their faces. 
It was only then that you turned back to your boyfriend, a little confused about what just happened. 
Did you just imagine that all? Why were they clapping? 
Instead of saying anything, he just slightly pulled you to one of the exits of the rink. You honestly didn’t want him to either, you figured it was likely your imagination running ramped again, but as you stared at his broad back, you couldn’t help but notice the tiny bit of snow covering his sweater. 
Despite it being white, the twinkles reminded you of the snowy forest you skated through in your fantasy.
What just happened?
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duhragonball · 1 year
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Now that you pretty much wrapped up the Baby Saga, I have to ask a question. During your original Dragon Ball GT Retrospective in 2019, you said that Baby is actually a good villain once you ignore that nonsense with the Machine Mutants and the Luud Cult and it seems like you changed your mind on that. Is Baby really a good villain or is he only a good villain in comparison to the other GT villains?
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Let me put it like this: Baby is a good villain in the sense that he's thoroughly evil, and he has a consistent motivation to do evil things, and he also represents the opposite of what the hero represents.
I mean, he basically hijacks the whole world, and turns everyone into a population of slaves who adore him. He takes Goku's relationship with the Earth and flips it on its head. Now Baby is the Earth's hero and Goku has to fight against his adopted planet to defeat him. Baby doesn't train to get stronger. Instead he uses the strengths of others, like how he took over Vegeta's body and used the others' powers Bulma's scientific genius to enhance it.
There's also no depth that he won't stoop to. He fights dirty. He picks on defenseless enemies like Pan. He attacks, betrays, and abandons his own followers without a second thought. Baby is either a perversion of everything the Tuffles stood for, or he's actually what the Tuffles stood for, which is pretty chilling to consider.
And he's basically in a position where he has to be this vile, despicable menace. The Tuffles created him to take revenge and Tuffleize the universe. He can't just blow that off and become a farmer. He has to control other people's bodies and infect people with his eggs, because that's the only way he can achieve his goals. The closest he ever comes to doing anything noble is when he decides to kill Goku face-to-face, instead of taking over his body like he did to the others. And that turns out to be a huge mistake, since it allows Goku the opportunity to defeat him.
So he's a solid villain. He is not one of these mythical "good ideas" that GT apologists like to talk about. Baby's whole deal is just a mashup of past Dragon Ball villains.
He's a Tuffle doomsday weapon, like Hatchiyack.
He mind controls the entire population of Earth like Garlic Junior.
He's a Saiyan-hating autocrat, like Frieza.
He was created in some sort of incubation tank, and had to develop into his "perfect form", like Cell.
He uses Vegeta to achieve his goals, like Babidi
He uses the Oozaru form to turn the tables on Goku, like Vegeta.
He absorbs the powers of others to get stronger, like Majin Buu.
A lot of the Machine Mutant stuff is very reminiscent of Meta Cooler from Movie 6.
Again, it's not a sin to re-use ideas from other characters. I'm a firm believer in "Talent borrows; genius steals." The trick, though, is that you have to repurpose the ideas you take and disguise them like something original.
For example, the Androids Saga in DBZ was heavily inspired by the Terminator films. That's no secret; one look at Trunks' haircut and 16's everything should give it away. What makes it unique, however, is that Toriyama didn't just do a shot-for-shot retelling of the Terminator movies. His villains were created by a human scientist (Dr. Gero) instead of a supercomputer (Skynet). While the Terminators were relentless killing machines skilled in infiltration, most of Gero's assassins weren't even interested in killing their target, and they didn't even try to be subtle. All 17 wants to do is joyride in an ice cream truck.
Then you have Cell, who seems like he has more to do with Cronenberg movies than the Terminator franchise. He's an unexpected bad guy from an alternate future, kind of like Biff Tannen in "Back to the Future II," but he has all the powers of strong characters from the past, kind of like Serpentor from G.I. Joe. Did Toriyama swipe ideas from those stories as well? Maybe, but somewhere along the way, he ended up combining so many things together that he wound up with something original. The parallels are still there for critics to notice, but no one's filing lawsuits over 17 and Cell, because it's understood that they're distinct, unique characters, even if they were inspired by other works.
Baby's problem is that his creators just swiped ideas from just one property: Dragon Ball. And that's a terrible way to go about it, because the target audience is already familiar with Dragon Ball, so every time Baby does anything, the viewer is going to recognize it as something they've seen before in the same show. It makes Baby look rather authentic. You see him do stuff and he looks like he belongs in this franchise, because it's consistent with what you've seen before. But none of it is innovative because he's not doing anything new.
Now, if they had cast a wider net, and been a little more clever about it, Baby could have turned into something truly special. Suppose the writers had borrowed ideas from the 90's Batman movies, or "Knight Rider" or literally anything else. You'd have to do a lot of tinkering just to make it fit in to a series like GT, and that's where the creativity comes from. Then, when Baby does something, it's not going to be exactly like a time Frieza or Vegeta did something similar. He'd bring his own unique flavor to it. He'd whip out a gadget from his talking utility belt, and it'd be totally fresh.
I think this is why I like the concept of the Tuffles in general a lot more than I like Baby specifically. When I saw Kamin and Oren in Super Dragon Ball Heroes, I was thrilled, because it looked like someone had taken the Baby IP and done something genuinely fun with it. I think there's a mission in one of the games where Kami and Oren Tuffleize the planet Sadala in Universe 6, and you have to fight all the mind-controlled Saiyans to liberate the planet. It's basically the Baby Saga on a different location, but it still sounds a lot more appealing, because it's not saddled with Baby himself.
I sometimes think of trying to do stuff with the Tuffles in my fanfic, but I've never been able to come up with a good angle for it. There's a good story to be had from the Baby lore, but it's not the Baby Saga itself, because I just finished watching it, and it's a mess.
And I guess that's the trouble with Baby. Is he a good villain? Yeah, I think he clears the bar. Is he a great villain? I don't know if I'd go that far. But good? Sure, especially if you separate him from all the bullshit before his debut. But he's a good villain based on unoriginal ideas, and the execution was thoroughly botched. It's like if Tommy Wiseau put Dracula in "The Room". It doesn't matter how good a villain Dracula is, he's not going to come across well.
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A Very Niche Crossover Concept Post
Once again mulling over what it would take to make a gigantic Kurofai/Sherliam mashup fic (which there is a 1 in 10000 chance I will ever actually do, but I’m having fun playing with the idea). The cast isn’t 1/1, so you’d have to play a little bit with the casting and themes. And the primary focus is very much Sherliam, so the other angles get a bit sloppy.
So we start with:
Sherlock = Kurogane
Liam = Fai
Let’s make Milverton = Butt Chin because he deserves it.
Now we need two kids and a silly but sincere sidekick, which gets tricky. 
While the obvious idea would be to age down some main characters in order to keep the themes of parenthood and stuff, I (huge confession time) never got all that invested in Sakura and Syaoran except as they related to the development of Kurogane and Fai’s relationship, so let’s be lazy and stick random kiddos in there because they’re going to be more plot devices in this concept than anything, so:
Wiggins = Syaoran
Helena = Sakura
John is the white Mokona and Bond is the black.
The really weird thing here is that Real William has to be Real Fai, so we have to build love between him and Liam. OR we just lean into Liam’s canon-typical guilt and go with “he thinks he was responsible for his twin’s death and even though that twin was an evil brat Liam can’t forgive himself for it.”
If I was going for something fun, I’d make Albert the Yuuko and Louis the Watanuki. But I’ve had a much more deliciously tragic idea, so I think I’ll go bland and make Whiteley the Yuuko since even though he’s incredibly boring to me and she’s amazing, that would be background in this concept, and he and Milverton are opposing forces. Wait no nevermind! Billy is the Yuuko. That's fun! Fred is the Watanuki.
Mycroft is Tomoyo, sending Sherlock on a journey to Grow the Fuck Up. Moneypenney is Soma. Herder and Jack and Mary and Hudson are some of those recurring characters who pop up in different worlds. I want Moran as Fuuma but I haven’t even considered how to cast the other parts of that story arc.
And...
...ready for the fucked up tragic bit?
Louis is Chi; a construct Liam built to soothe himself and watch over Real William. (He has more personality than Chi though.)
And *drum roll*...
Albert is Ashura.
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afoxnamedmulder · 1 year
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3 and 5!
3. What were your top five books of the year?
okay let's go reverse order! build some suspense! (also I'm not including rereads otherwise you know Drac's taking that top spot)
some honourable mentions before we start to the various Drac fanfics I've read this year (some unintentional) and Lemire's Moon Knight run.
5. and to start us off I'm going with The Lost Pages by Marija Peričić! I love a good novel about past literary figures and the relationship between Kafka and Brod as depicted here had me COMPLETELY fooled considering I knew so little about their actual lives (spoiler: it's very historically inaccurate according to what I've since read and it's absolutely meant to be). For sure one of my top just grabbed and bought on a whim novels.
4. Our one nonfiction offering on the list, Rabid: A Cultural History of the World's Most Diabolical Virus by Bill Wasik & Monica Murphy. I have Not been able to stop thinking about a lot of fun little facts I picked up from this book (dogs are not mentioned positively in the Bible once!). Just a fun engaging read which tapped into many of my interests (and yes, there's a chapter in there about werewolves and vampires).
3. Picnic at Hanging Rock by Joan Lindsay and I do wish I read the novel before seeing the film because I spent the entire time being completely enthralled by how accurately said film captured the novel's atmosphere. Also helps that there's a hilltop not far from me that has the exact vibes of Hanging Rock on a smaller scale and I'm now always going to be thinking about those first chapters when I visit (it's a great lookout point).
2. Technically this is cheating by throwing two novels into this spot but I associate them together as being part of the same universe because I read them so close together and their vibes are almost exact so whatever. Anyway they're The Last Days of Jack Sparks and Ghoster by Jason Arnopp and I'm so mad he hasn't written more novels for me to devour because these two went down an absolute TREAT. I don't think I've ever witnessed jumpscares more accurately portrayed in the written word and if there's any justice both of these will be turned into feature films one day. @Arnopp hit me up I have Visions for these.
And in our number one spot - I'm as surprised as you all will be - The Vampire of Northanger by Bryce C. Anderson. AKA Northanger Abbey but with vampires. I'm 100% serious. Everything I love about Northanger Abbey, a fresh (to me anyway) take on vampire lore, lesbian Eleanor Tilney, Catherine and Henry being SO cute together, a pet hellhound... it was plain fun and I had an absolutely wonderful time. Heavy competition against the Pride and Prejudice and Zombies film as my fave supernatural Austen mashup media.
5. What genre did you read the most of?
I answered this one with horror (esp folk horror) so I'll go with secondmost genre, which was of course - classic lit fanfiction novels. My absolute weakness. My beloved and beloathed (although this year they were all beloved, so here's to whatever ones make it to my 2023 list!)
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invisibleraven · 2 years
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For the trope Mashup! What about Second Love + Soulmate AU for Rulie?
Julie eased herself up from the cold, unforgiving ground and sighed as she pressed a kiss to the slab of marble before her. "Until next time mi vida." She felt the soulmate pull within her, as she always did when she came here, and she wished it would stop. Luke was gone, and Julie was destined to be alone for the rest of her life.
However, this time it was more insistent, as if it were trying to lead her away from Luke's grave. It was time to go anyway, Danny would home before too long, claimed he was bringing a friend with him this time.
"A friend huh?" she had questioned, her tone clearly not believing him.
"Mami.... Fine, we may be dating."
"Then I can't wait to meet them."
Julie followed the pull, away from her car, further into the cemetery, past the stone for her mother, though she stopped there for a moment. Her mother's image was blurry in her memory, over three decades had passed since she lost her, but the love was still there, the grief of growing up without her. Sure, her dad had found happiness and a rare second soulmate in Trevor, but none of them would ever forget Rose.
Past that, Julie kept going until she came to a most idyllic spot; a wide willow tree and a lone figure standing by a grave. He turned around, shock painting his features as she spied Julie, walking towards her as if he were compelled.
They stopped in front of each other, shy smiles and soft hellos exchanged. Julie took him in, tall and slim, though still in good shape from what she could tell. Streaks of silver ran through his dark hair and lines ran from his eyes and mouth, showing this man enjoyed smiling and laughing. Julie ran her hand through her own salt and pepper curls, blushing as he took her in, sure her own laugh lines were on display.
"Did you feel it too?" he asked. "The pull?"
"Almost every time I come here for the past few years," Julie replied.
"You must come as often as I do then," he said, then stuck out his hand. "Reggie Peters, nice to meet you."
"Julie Molina." She took his hand in hers and shuddered at the shock that ran through her. Their eyes flew to one another, surprise painting their features. "B-but... I never thought..."
"Me either," Reggie replied quietly. "After Kayla, I was sure that was it." Then he gave her a small smile, squeezing her hand still in his. "But I'm not about to turn down a second chance. How about we get some coffee and get to know each other better?"
Julie nodded, keeping hold of him as they headed towards their cars. They spent the rest of the afternoon getting to know one another, from their likes and dislikes, to their jobs as a song writer and a math teacher with a love for music, the pain of losing your spouse and soulmate so young, the trials of raising a kid all on your own.
"Oh shoot, Danny!" Julie swore. "He'll be home by now and he's bringing his new partner over!" She then looked at Reggie, considering. "I know it's fast, but would you like to meet him? You are my soulmate after all, and he's old enough now that he should get it."
"I'd love to. Maybe in a few days I can introduce you to Shi, she's been harping on me to date again anyways."
They laughed at that, and went off, Reggie following Julie towards her small home. Yet once they were out, he hesitated, pulling Julie to him, his eyes asking a thousand questions, all of which she answered with the smallest brush of her lips to his. He deepened the kiss, lush and loving, and neither of them could find it in them to pull away until they were desperate for breath.
Julie was sure she was trembling in Reggie's arms, and he looked equally as affected as they pulled apart, still sharing breath, noses brushing. "That was..."
"Yeah, it was," he replied. "Let's go inside, we've got plenty of time for that later."
"I just wish I had followed the pull earlier, we've wasted so much time apart," Julie lamented.
Reggie shook his head at that. "No, we met when we were supposed to. Neither of us was ready to move on just yet. Grief never really leaves you, but with you, I'm ready to hope again."
Julie had to pull him down for another kiss at that, wishing with all her might that he got the same sentiment from her. They pulled apart, and headed for the house, fingers intertwined, silly grins on their faces.
"Danny!" Julie called. "I'm home mijo! And I have someone I want you to meet."
Danny grinned as he came around the corner, taking in the way his mom was holding hands with this guy. He would always love his papa, but he was a little glad she had found someone to make her lonely days disappear. "Me too. Mami, I want you to meet my girlfriend-"
"Shania?" Reggie questioned.
The girl blushed and Julie instantly saw the resemblance, Shania grinned and gave them both a little wave. "Hi dad."
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What did you think of The Thing? 👀
VERY GOOD THANK YOU FOR RECCING IT TO ME!!! some reactions here:
that was... certainly An Experience, especially the bits with the dogs, bc I always hate when stuff happens to animals and so the dogs in the kennel freaking out and screaming made me Sad (especially since MY dog was in bed with me at the time ahdkdjskk).
why was Macready wearing a dumb sombrero/fedora mashup OVERTOP OF HIS HOOD how does that even work
definitely spent quite a bit of time crossreferencing the film with that X-Files episode that was semi-inspired by it — there's a lot of visual parallels, lighting and stuff, even aside from the plot points, which I think is really interesting. the concept and execution is EXTREMELY similar — even one of the side characters in the TXF episode seems like he may have been based on Windows? — but the... idk I guess functionality of the alien parasites in each are very different, and it's fun to compare and contrast! (TXF gets credit for Not killing their dog though ahsjsnsk... warms my heart)
Kurt Russell's hair is better than mine and I'm slightly miffed about that
the practical effects???? DUDE. it's SO COOL
I liked Windows, didn't like seeing his head get eaten
also when they were slicing their thumbs to get blood toward the end I had to look away, blood and stuff doesn't bother me and even hand gore doesn't get me, but very specifically fingertips??? *shudders* (this probably has to do with the fact that I permanently scarred a fingernail once by slamming my finger in a car door on accident, and also the time I accidentally sliced one of my nails against a cheese grater... I do not like that ahsjdjsksk. I wouldn't even let my mom prick my finger when we got at-home blood typing kits lol)
the lighting was... really pretty?? it is very dark (I maybe should have upped the brightness on my iPad screen tbh) but it's super atmospheric and the last scene with the stark black and white of night and snow, lit up by flare-orange flames? *my longest yeah boy ever*
also somewhat fittingly, it snowed here last night 😂
all in all I really liked that, i think technically speaking it's probably the first actual horror film I've really watched??? which is surprising considering how much I love the genre tbh but yeah! thanks sm for recommending it; now I'm gonna go pull out that list from when I asked you about horror movies and make a checklist of what to watch next lol 💖
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musette22 · 2 years
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Hiiiiiiiiiii Minnie <333 for the trope mashup game Stucky + 10 (Airport/Travel AU) and 37 (Coming Out Fic)
Hiiii sweetheart!! Thank you for playing <3 I know this isn't how this is supposed to work, but I decided to use this game to challenge myself to write a few shorter one shots. So... here's another one, hope you like!! 😘
****************
Steve is lying on his back on his couch. Their couch. His and Bucky’s, in the living room of their shared apartment. Or it had been, at least – until this morning.
Now, Bucky is on his way to the airport. He hadn’t even wanted Steve to see him off.
Bucky is swapping New York for Copenhagen to study abroad for a year and he’s leaving Steve behind in New York. By himself.
To say that Steve had been surprised when Bucky told him the news two months ago would be the understatement of the century. Bucky loves New York. The traffic and the swearing and the hotdogs; they’re in his blood. At no point in the eighteen years they’ve know each other had Bucky ever expressed any interest in traveling or seeing the world before, let alone in going to live in fucking Denmark, of all places (no offense). Until earlier this year, when Bucky had apparently registered with the University of Copenhagen, enrolling in their postgraduate science program. He’d even managed to get a scholarship. And yet he only told Steve about his plans once it had all been confirmed, and there was no going back.
Despite his shock, Steve was happy for his friend. Of course he was. Once he’d recovered a little, he’d smiled and told Bucky he was proud of him for securing the scholarship and for taking a leap like this. Told him he hoped Bucky would have the time of his life, and that he’d come visit him as soon as he could get some time off from his brand new job as a graphic designer.
Truly, Steve was happy for Bucky. But that didn't mean Bucky’s decision didn't hurt. And alone in his bed at night (every night for the past two months, in fact) Steve allowed himself feel every bit of that hurt. He may have been wallowing, just a little.
The thing is, Bucky and Steve have always done everything together. They’ve been best friends since primary school, went to the same high school, both studied at NYU. Renting an apartment together had just made sense – especially considering New York rents, which are higher than its sky scrapers – and whenever Steve thought about his future, it had Bucky in it, right there next to him.
And now, Bucky is gone. And sure, it’s ‘only’ for a year, but they’ve never gone longer than a week without seeing each other before, ever. So a year? A year feels really fucking long to Steve. And who knows, maybe Bucky will meet some hot European guy over there and fall in love and decide to stay forever. It could happen.
Not that Steve begrudges him a hot European boyfriend, of course. He doesn’t have a problem with Bucky being gay, despite being straight himself. Bucky can date whoever the hell he wants. Except for that one guy. The one Bucky had brought back to their apartment once and introduced as his ‘boyfriend’. Steve really hadn’t liked him for some reason. But apart from that guy, Bucky is free to date whoever he pleases. He doesn't date much, though, and neither does Steve.
Well, not until recently, at least. A few months ago, Steve had downloaded an app and started dating around a bit. He's not really feeling it, to be honest, but he’s twenty-three now, which is just too old to have never had a girlfriend before. He’s been on a few dates, but so far, no one has caught his fancy. Not that they weren't all perfectly nice girls. They just weren’t Bucky.
Steve blinks at the ceiling.
“Wait,” he says aloud, to an empty apartment. He sits up so fast his head spins, his heart suddenly racing. “Wait.”
Out of the blue, a kaleidoscope of images starts tumbling over itself before his mind’s eye.
Images of Bucky, aged sixteen, his blue eyes pleading and apprehensive as he confessed he liked guys better than girls (Steve had hugged him tightly and assured him this changed nothing between them).
Bucky, aged nineteen, crawling into Steve’s bed one night after coming home from a bad date (Steve had let Bucky cry into his shoulder and held him all night. He’d never slept so well in his life).
Bucky, aged twenty-one, dolling himself up before going on his first big night out to a gay club shortly after his twenty-first birthday (he’d hugged Steve before he left, after which Steve had crawled into bed with a stomach ache, thinking he must’ve ate something bad).
Bucky, six months ago, his expression shocked when he’d come home unexpectedly and walked in on Steve making out with one of his dates on the couch in their living room (Steve had jumped up, ignoring his date in his haste to apologize to Bucky, even though he'd done nothing wrong. Steve hasn't spoken to her since).
And mixed in with all of that, there’s Bucky’s smile; the way his nose scrunches up when he laughs. Bucky’s eyes; the pale blue of stormy skies that reminds Steve of home. Bucky’s voice, telling him, You and me, Stevie. Till the end of the line.
“I’m in love with him,” Steve says, astonished. “Fuck, I’m in love with Bucky.”
He barks out a laugh, both at his own stupidity and at how right it feels to say it out loud, before suddenly, reality comes crashing back down. “Shit.”
Steve checks his phone. 5.34pm. Bucky’s flight leaves at 7.20.
He can make it.
***********
Somehow, Steve makes it.
He dashes through the terminal doors, rucksack on his back and a freshly purchased ticket to Copenhagen Airport in hand. And okay, maybe he didn’t think this through quite as well as he probably should have, because a) all his backpack contains is some spare clothes, his phone charger, and a mars bar, and b) he can’t just leave the apartment unattended for a year, and c) he has no idea if Bucky even wants Steve to come with him – but, well.
He’s going to find out.
When he enters the terminal, his eyes scan the line of people about the board the flight, until, there.
There is Bucky, leaning against a pillar, his ticket and passport in one hand, and a battered paperback in the other.
Heart beating wildly in his chest, Steve walks over to him.
“Bucky.”
At the sound of his name, Bucky looks up, and does an almost comical double take. “Steve?”
“Hi,” Steve says, giving him a little wave.
Bucky’s eyes are wide. “What the- how… what are you doing here?”
“Um,” Steve says, suddenly unsure how to proceed. He really did not think this through.
“Is everything okay?” Bucky asks, looking Steve over. “Did I forget something?”
“No,” Steve says. “I mean yes, everything’s fine. I’m coming with you.”
Bucky stares at him. “You’re what?”
“I’m coming with you, to Denmark. If you’ll let me.”
“Buddy,” Bucky says slowly, shaking his head, “I don’t understand what you’re saying. I left you at home not two hours ago. Why are you here?”
“Because I can’t just let you leave like this.”
Bucky laughs, a touch hysterically. “Steve, this is crazy. Come on, you know it is. I know it’s going to be weird, not seeing each other for so long, but we can call and face time and all that. We talked about this.” Bucky sighs, his shoulders slumping. “It’s for the best, Steve. I’m sorry, but I’m going. I need to do this.”
“I know," Steve nods, "and I’m not trying to stop you. But please, Buck, just let me come with you. I won’t get in your way, I promise.”
“But,” Bucky sputters, “what about the apartment? Your job?”
Steve shrugs. “I’ll find a job there. I’m sure they’ve got graphic design companies in Denmark, right? Or I’ll wait tables, I don’t care, as long as we’re together.” He swallows, giving a brief shake of his head. “Bucky, the idea of not seeing you for a year, I just can’t... I can’t take it.”
Bucky stares at him with a lost expression. “But why?”
“Because I-” Steve starts, and then he stops, because he’s scared. But he needs to say this. “Because I- I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Bucky replies immediately, ��but that’s--”
“No,” Steve interrupts, “Bucky, I’m in love with you.”
Even though the terminal is buzzing with airport noises, the silence that follows his words is absolutely deafening. Distantly, Steve is aware the whole line is staring at them now, watching the drama unfold, but he can’t bring himself to care.
“…What?” Bucky whispers finally.
“I’m in love with you," Steve repeats, looking Bucky straight in the eye. He laughs, running a hand through his hair. “Only took me like a decade to realize, but better late than never, right?”
“But…” Bucky says slowly, uncomprehending, “you’re straight.”
“Um,” Steve replies, rubbing the back of his neck. “No. No, I’m not, apparently. Consider this my coming out.”
Bucky blinks at him. “What the fuck, Steve.”
“I know, huh?” Steve shrugs; a helpless gesture. “It was a shock for me too when I realized earlier, after you left. I was sitting there, by myself on our couch, and suddenly I just knew. All this time, it was you. It’s always been you, Buck.” When Bucky doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring at him in shock, Steve goes on, “And I couldn't just let you leave without at least trying to find out if there's a chance you might feel the same way."
In the long silence that follows, neither of them moves a muscle, until an elderly lady a few people down the line prompts, “Well? Do you?”
Bucky ignores her, instead fixing Steve with a strangely intent stare. “You mean… you don’t know?”
“Know what?” Steve asks, his pulse beating loudly in his ears.
“Oh my god, you don’t know.” Bucky shakes his head. “Steve, how can you not know?”
“Know what?” Steve asks again, a little more desperately this time.
Bucky lets out a wet laugh. “I tried to tell you so many times, but you never… I thought you were letting me down easy. But you didn’t even know?”
“Hey,” Steve says, hitching up his shoulders to his ears, “I’m not a mind reader, Buck.”
“Steve. You were the first person I came out to. I practically spelled it out for you, and you just said it didn’t change anything between us.”
Steve opens his mouth – though to say what, he’s not sure – but Bucky barrels on.
“I broke up with my boyfriend for you.”
Frowning, Steve says, “Well, he was an asshole, anyway.”
“No, he wasn’t,” Bucky counters, exasperated. “He was perfectly nice, and you know it. Wait, were you- were you jealous?”
Steve huffs, throwing his hands up. “Maybe? I don’t know, okay? I’m still figuring this thing out.”
“Wow,” Bucky marvels, “you are so dumb. Why am I even in love with you?”
All of a sudden, Steve’s world grinds to a halt, because –
“You’re in love with me?”
Bucky looks at him like he’s crazy. “Yes, I’m in love with you. What did you think I was talking about, you dumbass? That I cheated at monopoly that one time?”
“You did?”
“Oh my god, shut up,” Bucky pleads, sobbing out a laugh.
“Make me,” Steve counters.
They stare at each other for a moment that seems suspended in time, and then Bucky launches himself at Steve, literally jumping into his arms.
“Ooff,” Steve puffs, staggering backwards. At first, he thinks he’s got it, but then Bucky shifts, trying to wrap his legs around Steve’s waist, and Steve loses his footing. Gravity wins out. Steve topples to the ground, dragging Bucky down with him. They’re lucky Steve’s backpack breaks their fall, or they might’ve actually hurt themselves, but as it is, they just end up in a tangle of limbs on the floor, kissing frantically while the people around them holler and cheer.
Steve hardly registers any of it. All that matters in this moment is Bucky in his arms, the way Bucky’s lips feel against his, and making sure that he pours all the love he’s feeling into the kiss. Their first kiss.
When Bucky finally breaks away, he looks down at Steve with shining eyes, radiating happiness from every pore. He’s never been more beautiful.
“I’m sorry I almost left you,” Bucky whispers. He lifts a hand, brushing Steve’s hair off his forehead with the backs of his fingers. “I just… couldn’t do it anymore. I needed to give myself at least a chance to move on. You understand that, right?”
“I do now," Steve nods. He swallows thickly. "But please, Buck... don’t ever move on. Not without me.”
Bucky looks at him for a long moment, making Steve feel strangely naked under his gaze. “Not without you,” he repeats finally. It sounds like a promise.
Someone clears their throat nearby. “Excuse me, sirs. I’m sorry to interrupt, but we’re about to close the gate. I’m afraid you need to decide whether you’re coming or staying, or the plane is going to leave without you.”
Bucky cranes his neck to look up at the flight attendant. “Right, of course. Sorry.” Turning to look to back at Steve, he asks, “So, how about it, punk?”
“Let’s go.”
Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Really? I don’t have to go, you know. Not anymore.”
“Yeah,” Steve shrugs, “but you planned this whole thing. You worked hard for that scholarship. You should go.”
“And you’ll come with me?”
Steve holds up his ticket, which is slightly rumpled now but somehow still intact. “Just try and stop me.”
Bucky shakes his head, grinning as he leans down to kiss him again. “You’re crazy,” he murmurs against Steve’s lips.
“You love me.”
“Yeah,” Bucky sighs. “Yeah, I do.”
231 notes · View notes
mirrorforevers · 3 years
Text
here, there, and everywhere • graham coxon/reader
this fic is based on two prompts y'all sent me:
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and
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this fic really tested all of my blur knowledge holy Fuck. blur as talking heads au i guess. how cool would it be if they
1. had a girl bassist instead of the cheese tory dude
2. werent as unhappy as they were in the mid 90s (just a bit)
3. were just a little 🤏🏻 bit more female friendly lets just pretend this is a universe where the blurjob passes didnt exist heh
it took me everything i had to make this sound as realistic as it could be. u know these girls who think they could fix patrick bateman or don draper? perhaps y’all could fix blur
consider this a gift n not only me writing for your prompt, @nottuned! thank u so much for all your support n encouragement n for always bein so sweet 🥺 i hope u enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!
let’s see how many references to unfortunate britpop moments y’all can find in this
also i hope i captured the silliness of the gossip and drama in that era well. if you enjoyed it, please leave an ask telling me more! ur feedback is rly important to me 😔✊🏻
tw (?) reader has shitty parents
word count: 7.938 (this one's quite long!)
smut. set in the 90s. au.
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You were unlocking your door when you heard your house phone ring. The shrill sound echoed through the empty corridors as you hurriedly unwrapped your scarf, tossing your keys and backpack on nearby furniture as you ran to answer the call.
“Hello?” You answer, panting.
“Y/N?”
“Dave?” You smile, that call was a very welcome surprise. Your friend owed you an answer.
-
A few weeks ago, Dave Rowntree, your music classmate who became a close friend, told you that he had teamed up with two other proficient musicians to form a band. Dave was ecstatic, and every day he had new stories about his new friends to tell you between breakfasts and lunches that you shared between the countless hours of rehearsals. Even though you weren't part of the group, you already felt that you knew Damon and Graham like the back of your hand. Yin and Yang. One was expansive, ambitious, vain, impulsive. The other, shy, introspective, anxious and careful.
Damon Albarn wanted to be an actor, Graham Coxon had a firm foot in the visual arts. One was a fan of grand classical compositions, the other was a Beatles fan. They had been friends since they were children, in a seemingly unbreakable bond. Damon dropped out of his theater class not only because out of a sudden he had found a bigger calling in music instead of acting, but also because he couldn't stand being away from his best friend for so long. You found yourself often imagining their faces and voices while trying to make all of the wild and endearingly funny stories Dave told you more tangible in your head.
It was not long before Dave started dropping little hints that they needed someone else for their project. “It’s not that Graham isn’t good at bass,” he’d say, “but we could do better.” It wasn't at the top of your plans to be part of a band right now, especially as you were preparing intensely to join the Royal Academy of Music, and he knew it. When you mentioned the conversations you had with Dave about the boys on your family dinner, in quiet wonder and timid want of being part of something really exciting, your parents wrinkled their noses. Focus on the greater things, they’d say. Don’t let these boys distract you from your goal.
Our goal, they meant to say. Since you were born, you never knew if the things you wanted were really your will or theirs.
But anyway.
That dynamic went on for a while, until the day Dave invited you to audition for them while you shared a Diet Coke in the tube home.
“Will it take too much of my time?” You asked, coyly.
“Bold of you to assume we’ll let you in that quickly.” He chuckles, amused by your confidence. You playfully elbow him in return. He knew how good you were at what you did, though, and there’s lightness in his tone when he continues, “But no, unless you let it. You’ll probably have to stand up to Damon every once in a while.” He sips the drink, handing it over to you.
“What about Graham? How much is he determined to make it big?”
“Damon’s the one who wants it the most. Graham’s studying Fine Arts at Goldsmiths, so. There’s still cautiousness in him.”
“Huh. Okay then.” You reply, thoughts running wild. “Do we have a time and date?”
“Is tomorrow ok to you?”
“Sure. After our class?”
“Perfect.” The train reaches his station. He ruffles your hair: “See you tomorrow then.”
“See you.”
You don’t tell anything about it to your parents, you just warn them that you’ll arrive a bit later than usual. Dave’s intel was crucial to your choice of songs: knowing Graham was the beatlemaniac and also the rational brake to Damon’s tireless ambition, you knew who to please and have as an ally, so you build an innovative and fresh mashup of Paul McCartney’s greatest basslines to play for them. Of course it could backfire, but you didn’t care. You had a hell of a good ear anyway and if Damon wanted you to play anything out of the blue, you would improvise beautifully over it.
The day comes. You didn’t know why you were that nervous for an amateur audition. You weren’t even sure if it was the right path to follow, given that, depending on how focused Damon really was and how contagious his aspiration was, being part of a band could really take you out of your predestinated course. The reason why you were so nervous, now thinking a little more about it, may be because deep inside, you want your path to be a little less predictable. You didn’t want to fill your heart with hopes that you might make it big and travel all over the world because you didn’t even know them. But… what if it clicks? You knew some people in the scene whose work was getting seriously recognized out there.
Meeting them for the first time was an enigmatic experience. Damon was incredibly brash and cocky - not the first theater kid you’ve met in your life. Graham was way more approachable, though also a bit conceited when pushed just right. You wondered if you’d fit in that boys’ club, and decided you wouldn’t be an easy target for discredit or any kind of shit they might give you. “Took me a while to fully get their trust. You’ll do just fine”, Dave said, out of their earshot.
That gave you more fuel to play amazingly well. Damon definitely wasn’t one to be impressed quickly, but he was, when you finished your set. So was Graham - Graham was starry eyed with your performance, actually. Albarn showed you a song and asked you if you could improvise to it, just as you imagined. Of course you could, on the first play. You even suggested some adjustments to its structure. Your feedback was welcomed and noted.
-
Even though everything went surprisingly well, you still weren't sure if you would be a member of “Seymour”, as they called themselves. (You knew it wasn’t the best name, but you didn’t have a better suggestion at the time so you’ve kept your opinion to yourself.) Graham became eerily quiet out of a sudden and wouldn’t cross eyes with you the entire time you were there. Damon, well, was Damon. Perhaps he thought you were too ordinary and mainstream for deciding to play Beatles when he’s trying to be the new avant-garde Jesus.
But Dave's news was different than you expected. “They really, really enjoyed your audition. As I thought they would.” You can hear the smile in his voice. "When can you rehearse with us?"
-
Months after, on your first gig as a fully formed and integrated band, Damon was hit in the face by a guy twice his size, Graham vomited onstage and you and Dave had to take care of both. A beautiful way to close the already exquisite day you had, after you fought with your parents, got kicked out of your childhood home and gave up on entering the Royal Academy of Music two days after you received your acceptance letter featuring rave reviews of your entrance exam.
Dealing with these boys - no, grown-ass men - was hard, but not completely unpleasant. If it were totally unpleasant, you wouldn’t give up on your entire life to embark on such an adventure.
You - plural you - were so gifted and Damon’s compositions were so good. You could see that artsy pretentious mess of an act going somewhere. Of course, you were a bit lost in your life, but so were they, as you ran from city to city meeting new people and trying new things in your journey to fame.
Loneliness, once a close friend, became a distant acquaintance. One you didn’t know anymore.
You confess you were getting worried, though, with how much money you had left on your savings and how much you were spending lately now that your parents weren’t an active part of your life. Wanting to eat something you cannot dream of buying without that money being really useful in a much more critical situation, not having nearly enough money to replace something important that broke or got torn off was frustrating. Some basic things became luxuries out of a sudden.
One day in particular, you very briefly mentioned that you were dying to eat a slice of chocolate cake, but your voice was so small and everyone was so immersed in their duties you thought no one gave two shits to what you said. Two days later, Graham arrived late at rehearsal with a small chocolate cake in his hands, handing it over to you like it was a completely ordinary act. Nothing in the way he acted told you he expected a reward, it was so natural and… gentle. You knew no one in your band could buy a chocolate cake without it being apocalyptic to their personal finances during that time.
That day, you were assured by fate that feeling lost together was better than feeling guided alone.
-
The band finally got on track - strictly musically speaking. Personally speaking, many contemporaries who followed you at parties and other events described you as an ever-growing odd, annoying and intermittently disarming bunch - and Blur and its members became household names, at least in the UK. It became harder and harder everyday to impose yourself as an entire industry and its target public aimed to tear you down. Men couldn’t understand.
(Graham Coxon was the one who tried the hardest to.)
It was four in the morning. You’ve got used to following your bandmates to hospitals, running away from trouble or knowing when to relish in it. But it was the first time you offered yourself to clean up dried blood from one’s face, given how much you hated seeing the fluid and even fainted when younger whenever exposed to it.
You, so delicately, wipe the saline solution-soaked cotton across Graham’s face, who flinches at the cold sensation on his still sensitive skin. He stares at you with the eyes of a child, and you couldn’t help but give him a slight, warm smile in return, which he retributes. Your face conveyed gratitude and affection towards the one you were taking care of. Your hands still struggled to stay completely still after the surge of adrenaline your body received a few hours ago.
Being the only girl in a massive band, and one the music magazines and mainstream media loved sexualizing, meant having paparazzis in your window in odd hours (not that that’s acceptable in any hour, but you had to lower your standards even more these days), meant having different photographers trying to pressure you to get into all kinds of uncomfortable angles with skimpy-ass dresses and just count on the intervention of your fellow bandmates so they would stop, also having invasive male fans who would try to harass you in any way they could.
Of course the day where one of your bandmates would get into a fist fight with one of these men inserted into these categories would come. And even though they were all protective of you, each in their own peculiar, increasingly contradictory way, Graham’s dedication to it was sometimes commendable.
You were making your way through a small corridor of people on your way to the stage when a random guy cupped one of your breasts. It’s not like the venue was incredibly tight, it could not have been on accident and it made your blood boil. You turned around to scream at him, and Graham, who was just behind you, threw a punch directly towards the man’s face, without thinking twice.
And oh boy, took a lot of people and a sweet amount of time to separate the two after that.
After all was said and done, Graham had a few scratches, a black eye and a cut brow. He kept dodging your many “sorrys”, “you didn’t have to do this” and other expressions of guilt. “You have nothing to be sorry about, he deserved it”, he kept assuring you, like a mantra, just giving in to your pleas when you supplicated to take care of his wounds during intermission and after the show.
“I get why you did what you did, Gra. I hate that you took such a risk because of me, but I understand.” you say, voice cracking from not using it for a while after spending some good minutes in complete silence taking care of him. “However,” you soak another cotton ball in the saline solution a roadie got you, punctuating the word with a squeeze to the cotton to remove excess liquid. “I was worried sick about you. What if he… had a knife or something? You could’ve got seriously injured. Or killed.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly able to have a good fight,” after wincing from the contact of the cold wet cotton with his dried blood, he purses his lips in a forced, shy smile, trying to light up the mood. He notices your hands are still shaking from the adrenaline, and takes one of them in his bigger ones, trying to calm you down. The fact that he did this for you, coupled with the fear and how tired you felt of having to go through that kind of situation once again, made you cry-laugh from how overwhelmed you felt.
His expression changes to one of pure compassion in an instant. “Hey, don’t--oh my,” he gets up from his chair to embrace you as you pour your frustrations through fat tears running down his shoulder.
“It’s so exhausting,” you mumble, through sobs. “Now I’m putting you in danger too. I feel like I did and I’m still doing everything wrong. I should be the one giving you a shoulder to cry on.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong! Anything at all, I promise you,” he says, tenderly, running his hands through your hair, still holding you tight. “It was his fault! I decided it was the right thing to do. You’re worth the risk. What people have been putting you through is unacceptable.”
“I’m not worth the risk!” You break apart from his arms, trying to get your point across. “What would I do without you if someone killed you? You need to be more careful!”
The silence hangs heavy between you two thanks to the weight of your words.
“You should’ve asked me before you lunged at him, at least. I don’t know.” You wipe your many tears as you move towards the nearest bottle of water to try to calm yourself down. “It’ll never end. I’m so afraid that these situations will get even worse. That,” you motion at his wounds and dirty clothes, “is a bloody tragedy. It’s a tragedy things escalated to this point. You can’t do that forever.”
“This is just a consequence. And something I would do for you in a heartbeat whenever necessary.”
“Graham, I don’t want you to get hurt because--”
“They hurt you. I won’t let you go through that alone. Besides,” he comes closer to you again. “As I already told you, I can take care of myself, most of the time.” He takes your face in his hands, his fingers so delicately running across your cheeks to dry your tears. You knew that gesture wasn’t his way of asking you for anything you weren’t ready to give him yet. He just wanted you to feel safe. “And I want to take care of you.”
“I’m the one cleaning your wounds.”
“A great partnership, I think.” Coxon chuckles softly, and finally gets a smile out of you. As he always does. “And they make me look cool, don’t you think?”
“Shut up.” You giggle, still feeling too emotional to return to the stage. You sigh: “Thank you for being there for me. You know I’m still not very used to it. Just please be safe.”
The roadie returns, a little flustered by interrupting your little moment together. “5 minutes and you’re back, guys.”
“Okay!” You both turn to answer her.
“I’ll be. No need to thank me for anything, Y/N.” He answers, giving your forehead a little kiss. “Let’s go.”
“Give me two minutes. I’ll be right behind you.”
-
“What’s it like, being the only woman in the band?”
Four eyerolls at once don’t seem to faze the interviewer. She waits for your response.
Apparently the thousand invasive questions regarding Damon’s love life and the same bullshit treatment of women as either rare specimen or sex dolls is what pleases the audience of music TV shows these days.
“What do you think?” is what you say.
“Must be a thrill to have these beautiful boys around you all the time. And we’ve heard you never even took advantage of it!”
You don’t like where this is heading. “Is that… a bad thing? I don’t know what you mean.”
“Perhaps some of our lady viewers might think it is. No judgement though!” She raises her hands. “You do you, it’s just that it’s quite unexpected to see prudes in non-Christian bands. I mean… from what we’ve heard.”
“I’m sorry? What are you trying to say? What did you hear?”
Her tongue clicks while she stares at you with defiance and mischief on her eyes, as she goes a little further and raises her voice so it can overlay yours. “Oh love. You do know what I’m talking about. There’s no need to be ashamed of being a virgin.”
Your cheek burns intensely and the only thing you wished for was for the ground to swallow you whole. Dave and Graham are especially uncomfortable. Damon’s a bit amused. The three knew almost everything there was to know about you. The one topic that surprisingly they didn’t know about is that you’re still a virgin.
They know you’ve been single for a long time. They know that’s part of what draws so much attention and twisted lore regarding you and your past, but that’s not something they felt they needed to know about you at all, and you truly never felt the need to comment about that with any of them, and they haven’t asked. Not even Mr. “the way to be successful in this game is to make all the boys wanna be you and all the girls wanna sleep with you. In your case that’d work in reverse” Damon Albarn.
“Is that even something that should be discussed in an interview about our music? Is that what your boss told you to ask her about?” Dave answers, his tone venomous.
“Musicians are way more than just music. You’re entertainment in every sense of the word.”
“Who told you that about me?” You asked, not sure if you want to know the answer.
“A lovely elderly lady who lives in Elgin Crescent. She knows you so well.”
That’s your mum. That’s how far low your relationship has degraded. You’re not surprised. That doesn’t feel less like a punch on your gut, but you don’t feel like tumbling again. Not today.
“I know who you’re talking about. Tell her I asked her to go fuck herself and burn in hell. In that order.”
“But that’s your--”
“Yes, she is my mum!” If people are going to expose you anyway, then why don’t you do it on your terms? “We’re truly entertainment in every sense of the word, aren’t we. Not everyone’s mum’s a cunt. Some of us aren’t that lucky.”
“You want to be the next Gallagher sister with the spicy remarks?”
“Not sure. But I do want to be the last person you ever get to interview.”
-
The management of the band wasn’t at all surprised your interview became UK’s topic of the week. People were heavily divided between family is family and we shouldn’t hate our relatives and blood isn’t everything, family can be shitty too. Your bandmates were proud of you. The management was angry but tried to understand, and didn’t press you for further explanations. They suggested a two-week break from everything so Blur could rest their image and start a fresh cycle after that, and you gracefully accepted it.
The whole thing seemed so ridiculous the more you thought about it. Did your mum tell the reporter about that gratuitously? What was their conversation like? How did that even happen?
You became the butt of jokes in some places. You saw other famous people doing challenges between them, countdowns, all sorts of crude remarks. What a pathetic, sad chapter of your career.
You dial Graham, and you feel like your heart was about to burst out of your chest.
“Hey, Gra. It’s me.”
“Hey, Y/N.” He sounds pleasantly surprised. “How's it going?”
“Better, I guess. I have to take my mind off all that chaos though. Are you available right now?”
“Yeah.”
“You’ve been owing me a movie night for quite a while now and I miss spending time with you. Wanna come over?”
“Aww. Sure, I--um. Do you want me to bring anything?”
“I’m pretty sure I got everything we need here--ah… I think I don’t have any more beers.”
“I’ll buy some then. See ya in a few minutes.”
Actually, you couldn’t take all that chaos off your mind because that was the only thing in it. You’re feeling so nervous.
The main reasons sex wasn’t a priority for you until now were:
You didn’t have any real opportunities of losing your virginity in your teens. You were impossibly introspective until, like, 3, 4 years ago, and the way your family worked hasn’t really allowed you to get really close to people. Be it boyfriends, girlfriends or just friends. Anything that threatened to take time off the various tasks and classes your parents assigned to you just couldn’t be part of your life. To be honest, you still struggled a bit to form meaningful connections with people thanks to how you grew up.
The moment you stopped being shy, you noticed it was a real man’s world out there, especially in music, classical or not. You didn’t want anyone to think you fucked your way up to the top, you didn’t want any messy affairs. Also, you had yourself, and you didn’t get all of the hype regarding the concept of screwing someone. But apparently there’s a lot you’ve been missing, given the importance people seem to give to it. After that incident, even though you swore to yourself you wouldn’t give in to any kind of misogynistic pressure, that was one that really got under your skin.
You never really found someone who you felt 100% safe with in that sense until the one who’s about to arrive at your house appeared in your life. Bloody hell, and you don’t even have anything romantic going on. By the time you were a Blur member, you’ve fooled around a bit, but not all the way. You knew how to kiss, knew how to touch yourself and even brought manual satisfaction to some random fool you thought you were into one time. But perhaps this is the time to go all the way. Why not? Everyone knew how close you two were. He made you feel special. He was so kind. And gorgeous. And--
You hear a knock on your door. It’s him. Beers in hand, hair somewhat in place, twitchy as ever.
He comes inside and you feel like your legs will give up anytime. It was not the first time he visited you. It was one of many, actually, and he noticed you were acting… different.
“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks after a brief dialogue between you two, after plating some snacks for both of you.
“Graham...” You sigh, being really careful with your words. “What is your perception of me?”
“My perception of you?” He smiles. “I… think you’re great. You’re fun to be around. You’re one of the best musicians I know, if not the best. Why are you asking me that?”
“N-nothing. It’s nothing. Also, I asked the wrong question. What was your first perception of me?”
“Uh… the day of your audition?”
“Exactly. You barely talked to me that day.”
His eyes lower to his own feet. “I was really timid, actually. I wasn’t used to being near any girl, especially one who… w-would spend so much time around me if everything went well.”
You giggle. “I thought you hated me.”
“Never!” his smile turns into a full blown laughter. You melt at his confession. “Also because it seemed like you were trying to read my mind or something.”
“Of course! Because I thought you hated me!” Now that was a laughter you two shared. You do a voice: “‘Why is that pesky girl trying to get in my band?’”
“My goodness, no! I don’t even sound like that - you know what, I changed my mind. You suck. Because, besides the fact you don’t even know what I sound like, you still haven’t told me why you are asking me that in the first place.”
You couldn’t help but notice how he slightly cornered you physically in one of the kitchen corridors. Graham could be really persuasive when he wanted to.
“Okay. Right. Um. I’ve been thinking about some stuff.”
“What, exactly?”
“Everything that happened this month. The great virginity debacle,” you roll your eyes, and he scoffs.
“You don’t own anyone any information about what you do or don't do with your life. Everyone’s being so invasive. That was incredibly childish of the reporter to do, and we talked about that hundreds of times.”
“Yeah, but… you know what, forget it.”
“Tell me, Y/N. I just said that because I want you to know you were not in the wrong.”
“I know. It’s just… I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s silly for me to… keep closing myself for affection. Any kind of affection.”
“What are you talking about?” His brows furrowed in curiosity.
“I’m not sure if it’s the pressure that finally got under my skin, but… I’m willing to learn what all the fuss is about. Maybe it’s silly that I’m still a virgin.”
He bites his lips, still processing what you just said, expression unreadable. Perhaps you’ve treaded a ground you shouldn’t. You step back both literally and figuratively. “I’m sorry I even brought that up--”
“No, no, don’t be.” He assures you. “I’m just… surprised, that’s all. I swear.”
“And...” You know what. You already went too far, so why not go all the way. You’ve already gone way past the point of no return. “I was wondering if… you would… popmycherry?”
His eyes widen, yours still closed. When you finally open them, he’s closer to you again.
If his head was a machine, you’re sure it would be releasing lots of steam and shaking due to overprocessing. You felt like you just ruined everything.
“Y/N, you don’t need to do it if you don’t really want to.”
“But I want it! At first I thought I didn’t, but then I thought...”
“I don’t want to be part of that if you’re just doing it to fulfill weird expectations.”
“But it’s not that. Not just... that. I asked about your perception of me because I really like you, Gra. I think we should be more than friends and I wanted to know what you think about me. And I want to know what the fuss is about, yes, but I’m not telling you that just so I can lose my virginity to prove some point. I’m telling you that because I like you, I want to kiss you, and I think it would be a great idea if you showed me what it’s like. Y-you know, sex.”
“I-I can’t believe it. Did you even have any movie in mind?” His smile’s back, but you’re still not confident about what his answer will be.
“I didn’t. I’m sorry. You don’t have to--”
He sighs. “I was in love with you the moment I first saw you, actually.” He says it like he’s releasing a huge load out of his back, his arms crossed. Now your eyes widen, and you hold your breath without even noticing. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I know how you feel, or, felt about relationships, so… there wasn’t any reason for me to tell you that. And what I said about being timid was just half of the truth.”
“Huh?”
“I also was really intimidated by how pretty you looked. You can’t imagine how.”
“No way.”
“It’s true. I felt like I wasn’t even worthy of looking at you, really.”
“You’re joking. That’s mean, Gra.”
“I’m not. I’m really not.” He doesn’t look like he is joking. He looks relieved. “I’m really not. That’s why I’m so surprised by your request.”
“I’m nothing special.”
“You are everything to me. But I can’t accept your offer, not now.”
“Are you… seeing someone? Am I too late?”
“No. Definitely not. I just want you to be sure you’re not doing it because people are saying you should.”
“Graham, I’m a grown woman.”
“I know.”
Graham carefully presses his slightly chapped lips to yours, kissing you for a few precious, heart stopping seconds before pulling away; his voice is impossibly silky when he suggests, “Let’s watch a movie. How about The Godfather? I heard it’s airing tonight. Then, if in two weeks you don’t change your mind, tell me and I’ll be glad to help you with what you want. Do we have a deal?”
“That’s so unfair. I want you so bad.” You whisper.
“Tell me if you still do in two weeks.”
You sigh, defeated. “...Deal.”
-
You definitely notice the subtle shift in Graham’s personality and actions after that fateful night. If you were already close, both figuratively and literally, it now seemed like he would use any excuse to always touch you, be near you, sometimes tease you. The shift was subtle, though, don’t forget it’s still Graham Coxon we’re talking about - the constant “is it okay if”s or “is it alright if I”s were still there, as careful as ever. You don’t even talk about your deal that entire time, or even kiss again - sometimes you wondered if it was even real or just a fabrication of your mind.
The way he now caressed your hand discreetly when you listened to Damon’s ramblings, the way his hands now went directly to your waist when your games became too handsy, the way he seemed to be madly in love with everything you were and still are from the start - made you realize you were ready for this man to be a consistent part of your life.
The dust of the controversy was settled, and your own intentions were 100% clear to you now. The societal pressure has waned. The need for Graham to be your first persisted. After exactly 2 weeks have passed, you call him again, yearning to share the answer with him.
One beep.
Two beeps.
Three beeps.
Four beeps. “Hello?”
You release a sigh hidden deep inside of your lungs. “Graham, it’s Y/N.”
“Oh. It’s been two weeks.” You could hear the contemplative tone of his voice.
“...Yeah. That’s precisely the reason I’m calling you.”
“Do you still want to…?”
“...Desperately.”
“Ok.” He chuckles, flustered as hell on the other side of the phone, probably one of the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard. “Right. Ok. Your place or mine?”
“I think there’ll be an element of mystery if I go to your place this time.” You lose some of the constraints this silly shyness has been tying you on. “Do you have everything we might need there?”
“We don’t need a dungeon, you know.”
“The basics.” You make your smile heard.
“I do have… I do have the basics.”
“See you in a few minutes then.”
“Will you want to… ease into it? Or just go straight to it?”
“God, don’t make it awkward!” Your cheeks burn, your smile turning into contagious laughter. “Maybe… I don’t know. Ease into it, I guess? A movie night… but with s-something else?”
“Okay. Sounds good.”
“Alright then. See you.”
“See you.”
-
You don’t choose any particularly fancy or sexy clothes, instead settling for a slightly oversized yellow striped shirt he gave you as a birthday present some months ago and some skirt that fit you well. He wasn’t one to lavish his loved ones with gifts all the time, but few things were as precious as the look on his face whenever he saw you wearing something he gave you or, hell, even eating something he paid for you. You’re thrilled to see it again when he opens the door for you, it easing some of your deepest doubts.
2001: A Space Odyssey is already playing on the TV when you arrive. Despite it being one of your favorite movies of all time, and his, you’re not mad it was already halfway through when you arrived. It wasn’t your main priority to rewatch it for the 17th time tonight.
He offers you some wine, which you accept to ease the nerves. You sit on his couch, and he shares the cozy space with you, now mindlessly throwing one of his arms around your shoulders. You cuddle up to him, and everything seems peaceful in the world for a while.
The tip of his fingers softly caress your lifted knee, absentmindedly. You couldn’t help but notice how well his body fits with yours, how your skin was apparently made for him to touch, and the anxiety rumbles in your stomach like a storm in a wild wavy sea. After some minutes, you raise your head, his big brown eyes meeting yours as if asking you a silent question. You leaned up a bit more to press your lips to his, in a silent answer. The sweetness in him makes this moment as precious as every other moment you ever shared with him. His hands enter your hair, making you shiver a bit from the unfamiliarity and the electricity of it all - but it doesn’t sway you from deepening the kiss, wanting more of his taste, more of this, more of him.
“Do you wanna take this to the bed?” He whispers, after noticing your moans were becoming more frequent and needy. You nod, and you are taken by surprise when he carries you bridal style to it, hiding your excited giggles in his broad shoulders.
Graham wasn’t exactly the most organized man in the world - so the fact that his bedroom was now impossibly tidy was something that positively caught your attention. He put some planning into this. He lays you down and you part your legs, beckoning him to meet you between them. He does, and you go back to the breathtaking makeout session. You notice he’s holding himself back a bit, taking his time, his warm tongue moving smoothly, not hurriedly, against yours. His self control falters a bit though, given how he can’t stop grinding against you. You follow the rhythm of his hips a bit timidly and not nearly as in sync as you’d really like, though the pressure his covered cock is creating against your core can already be felt and some particular thrusts are able to fill at least partially the aching, wet need growing within you.
“How do you feel about oral?” He asks, breath warm near your ear, his voice raspy and spent by his desire for you.
“Um… It would be my first time receiving or doing it.”
“Would you like me to go down on you?”
“Wow. I never thought I would hear you saying something like that.” You smile, still assimilating the situation you’re in, trying not to show how badly his voice is affecting you. “Sure.”
“I never thought I would get to propose this to you. Aren’t we full of surprises lately.” He smiles back, warmly. He notices your hands trembling a bit from how anxious you are while you’re taking off your underwear with his help, and as he lowers himself to where you need him most, he takes your hands in his as an act of reassurance. “Tell me what you like. Tell me if what I’m doing works for you. I want this to be a great experience.”
“You want me to get addicted to you, that’s what you want,” He chuckles, lovingly kissing your thigh as a reply. “Okay, Gra. Guess I’ll find out along the way.”
You quickly take a peak below you to see the lower half of his face disappear in the middle of your thighs. The sight alone sets your fire ablaze, as he hooks his arms around your thighs and lifts you closer to his mouth, his lips ghosting over the curls between your legs tantalizingly and his breath catching when your hips jerk forward.
As he begins his ministrations, you immediately notice it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. That feeling was completely alien to you. It was even wetter than you expected, and weird, but powerfully pleasant. Before this exact moment, you had a firm belief that hardly anyone else would make you feel the same way, or better, than you do yourself, but apparently you were very wrong. Thankfully you were wrong. “My god,” you gasp as the flat of his tongue drags over your folds, too much and not enough, and you jerk at the contact. “This is great. So weird, but-- great.”
He moans at your response, his movements carefully enthusiastic. He works his tongue between your folds and traces up to curl the tip of it around your clit, and it’s quite endearing and madly arousing to see how he eats out you like you’re the sweetest and tastier dessert he has ever tasted. You involuntarily buck against him with a desperate sound the moment he moves his tongue and lips in a particularly wicked way, something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him, but you still feel the need to highlight in case it didn’t - “That. Keep doing that, please,”
And he does. The building of this climax is also different than the ones you already had by your own hands, and is more coy. As he sees the drops of sweat sliding along your soft skin and the expressions on your face as you get lost in this new but enchanting sensations, his hesitation and self-control fades away; there’s nothing uncertain in the way he buries his face in your cunt now, nothing restrained in the groan he lets out as he devours you and drinks you down as if you’re the first stream of water he has seen in days.
His tongue glides deeper in your folds again and again, swirling up through the wetness you’re coated with to tease at your clit while he grunts and strains closer, squeezing your thighs with both hands tight. The wave of heat inside of you is cresting so fast, you don't even know how to tell him, how to signal that you’re nearly done for and, in the end, it happens too fast to even try. He sucks at your clit, circling it with his tongue, once, twice, and then you’re crying out, shaking underneath him, trying to keep your thighs from clenching too hard around his head as he laps you through it with with urgent whimpers and moans, as if he cannot have enough of you.
You’re still trembling when he rises, the look on his face revealing to you how proud he feels by making you feel this way. It looks so good on him.
You fail miserably at the simple task of connecting words together after that, choosing instead to collect your remaining strength, prop yourself up and beckon him again to keep kissing him and learn, through his talented tongue, how you taste. He kisses the thin fabric of the shirt at your chest that covers you from view, your throat, your jaw, and before he reaches your impatient lips, he notes, sinfully, “Seems like you enjoyed yourself, love.”
“That was… unbelievable. Stars, I want to make you feel good too. Please show me how.”
“Keep kissing me,” he begs, voice still strained from how aroused he is. “I want to be inside you so bad. Let’s get you prepared.” You’re still so sensitive, you tread on overstimulation when his fingers lightly touch your clit, making you break the kiss in a hiss. He traces a line on your folds, inspecting the impact his mouth had on you. “So wet for me.”
“Bit slower, Gra,” He complies to your breathy plea, his fingers now more tame as he slowly spreads your wetness throughout your pussy. He stretches towards the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube, interrupting his contact to spread some on his fingers before unhurriedly slipping his middle finger inside of you. The coldness of the gel makes you shiver in surprise, the easiness brought by it very welcomed. Again - the sensation is odd. Completely unfamiliar. The feeling of having something inside of you for the first time, going further than you ever dared to try, probing, exploring; the coldness of the lube clashing against your burning hot cunt. But it also felt nice. The focused look on his face was adorable, he looked like he was a scientist in the middle of very complex research.
Despite the panting, the messy hair and the fire in his eyes.
Your body already has a lot of new sensations to process simultaneously, so when he asks you to take off your bra and shirt so his tongue can work on your nipples - which you gladly accept, you feel like you’re on sensual overload. His tongue, again, so talented, takes your mind off the slight burning you feel when he introduces his ring finger to your soaked, throbbing core, his focused, carefully overpowering and constant stimulation driving you insane.
“Does it feel good?” He asks, voice muffled by your breast. You nod, carried by the wave of pleasure sweeping you.
“Yes. God, yes.” You pant, tangling your fingers tightly on his thick hair as an encouragement, a desperate sound escaping from your lips the moment he reaches a certain point within you you didn’t even know existed, hot mouth continuing to lick and suck your nipple. Even though you were spent by your last orgasm, he was indeed getting you addicted to those new feelings, and even though this was heavenly, truly heavenly, you needed more. “Gra, I’m ready, I think.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. Please.”
Releasing your nipple from his lips with a sounding pop, he eagerly frees himself from his trousers - hard as a brick - and puts protection and lubrication on, swiftly positioning himself between your thighs while stroking himself to the sight in front of him. You motion to take off your skirt, and he holds your hand, not letting you. “Don’t. It’ll be really hot to fuck you in this.” He confesses, giving your forehead a kiss in a very different context than before. He aligns his forehead with yours, each of your lips just barely touching while you breathe each other’s air. He looks deep into your eyes, slowly running the tip of his cock between the slick folds of your pussy, coating himself in the remnants of your pleasure. “Do you trust me?”
You trust me to know your limits? Not to go any further if you don’t really want me to?
“Absolutely.”
The only response you get from him is a shuddering, helpless moan into your mouth and you hold him tighter to you, grinding your still sensitive cunt up against his cock while he pulls hard at the soft fur next to your head. You feel your soaking pussy lips part around the solid curve of his length and gradually coat the underside of him in slick with every gentle circle and roll your hips make, as he finally pulls away from your mouth to drop his forehead to your neck. He then, very slowly, penetrates you, stopping when he hears the noises you make indicating you’re struggling to adjust to his presence. Out of everything you’ve felt in the last minutes, this was by far the most painful sensation. “This-- is new,” you note, your face completely incapable of hiding the discomfort. He also notices that.
“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”
“It’s okay. I’ll get used to it.”
“It’s not supposed to be about endurance, you know.” He says, a bit breathless and worried, caressing your hair. “Tell me when it’s okay to move. Or if you feel too much pain.”
After some long seconds and some deep breaths, you say: “Okay. Go on.”
“As you wish.”
He moves inside you at a very slow pace, the lubrication clearly making it easier for you to handle it. It still hurts, significantly, but the sensation of being filled is also surprisingly arousing.
His hand moves to your sensitive clit again in small, measured circles, your little moans being a mixture of the pain of penetration and the sheer ecstasy of seeing him falling apart because of you. The way his chest heaves while the drops of sweat start pearling his fair skin, the furrowed brows and broken groans, the thickness of him as he rests heavy up against your entrance, the way his voice presses deliciously tight in his throat as he gasps out into the quiet room - everything’s making your chest burst in love and satisfaction. You tighten your grip around him and roll your hips up into his cock, letting it break you open nice and slow; it stretches you wide with a deliciously sharp fullness and pleasure rips through you, and Graham becomes even more vocal as he picks up a steady and gradually faster pace. He turned all of your keys, it’s about time you turn some of his.
“Graham, deeper,” you whimper, continuing to tighten your legs and hoist yourself up, lifting your hips to take his cock deeper inside you. His name rips itself from your throat while Coxon clenches his jaw and starts to lose himself in the pleasure, holding you down into the bed while he allows your desperation to guide him to the perfect angle and speed to sate you. He found denying you to be impossible.
He snarls and curses as he holds you down and rails you, determined to make you sing again before he finishes, and to his delight, your heightened sensitivity gives him what he wants. And this time, he couldn't hold on.
Graham kisses you one last time as he groans and gives in, head dropping to your neck again. You didn’t reach a second climax, but stars, what an experience you just had.
When he comes back to himself enough to realise he still had you practically folded in half, he carefully pulls his softening cock free, taking the condom off and taking the strands of hair out of your face as you struggle to catch your breath. You suggest a shared bath, a suggestion he gladly accepts.
Too tired and too sore for pillow talk, comfortable silence falls as your hand finds his, and you lay, listening to each other’s breathing slowly settle.
I could get used to his little snore on my chest, is the last thought that twinkles on your mind before you fall asleep snuggled with him.
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lavenderursa · 3 years
Note
There are too many good options on the Trope mashup list!
Here are some that I can’t choose between if anything strikes your fancy! For either Flip or Clyde please. Your writing is lovely and I can’t wait to read all of these 💛
Historical AU
Wilderness/Survival AU
Love Confession
Heroic Sacrifice (but not a full on death sacrifice please)
Hello! Thank you so so much for sending in a request! There was so much to choose from so I did a little mashup of everything with our Clyde!
It’s told in bullet point, kinda and I hope you enjoy!
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A Million Miles
Clyde Logan x Reader Historical AU - Wilderness/Survival AU - Love Confession
Warnings: Max Chilblain (ew), Arranged marriages, non-descript nudity, tropes tropes tropes
Wordcount: 1.4k
*** “And to love her is like a journey, Not a casual stroll or an adventure, But a patient walk of a million miles, And slowly her myth unfolds, As she reveals herself in layers, Her beauty has all the shades of life, But I fall short of colours to paint her glory, Oh to love her is like a journey, A journey of a million miles…” ― Piyush Rohankar, Narcissistic Romanticism
***
* It was not the most well thought out plan, setting that annoying nobleman's coach on fire. But he had crossed him with his words and set his thugs on his brother and in exchange for not losing his tavern, Clyde Logan now found himself on a fool’s errand of sorts.
* He would retrieve you for your fiancé, Maxwell Chilblain who insisted on holding a tournament for his name day and while you were betrothed, you had only met once and he was not to your liking. 
* Alas, you had no say in the matter and that is how you found yourself far from the king's road with this one handed stranger, covered in muck and yelling yourself hoarse.
“Never in all my years! Have I ever… ever been…”
He rolled his eyes, pulling at the horse who refused to go any further. Exhausted from running after being spooked. It’s strong legs carried you both far into the thick woods and off the known path as darkness fell fast over the sky.
“We’ll make camp here. There is a brook near and y’can clean up.” He muttered the words over your cries of exasperation. The nerve that this man would have you bathing in a creek like a commoner.
“And then what, sleep on the-the GROUND?”
“Yes, unless y’want to sleep in the water.” He turned back to the exhausted horse, unloading any supplies that would see you through the night. “That can be arranged.” He muttered to himself you cried out a string of creative expletives that would certainly draw a gasp from the most seasoned of his tavern patrons.
Stomping off to the small babbling stream and relieving yourself of your soiled garments, you waded into the water, the water lapping at your waist as you scrubbed the week’s journey from your skin.
You imagined the look on Max’s face once he heard of how horribly this brute had treated you, dragging you into the forest and forcing you to sleep among the insects and earth, like a farm animal he was probably used to laying with himself.
The idea of Maxwell infiltrated your thoughts and you considered yourself lucky to be promised to such a man of notoriety, even if his face irritated you and his demeanor would have you rather chewing a bucket of nails. You had heard rumors of his fickle and cowardly ways, manipulating his way into the somewhat good graces of higher society. Your father made sure to remind you of how this would certainly elevate your family.
Soft splashing behind you pulled you for your unpleasantries only to be replaced with another, or so you tried to convince yourself. Clyde’s pale skin shone in the moonlight, his chest broad and strong with a pleasantly soft middle and sparse hair. His ebony locks fell close to his shoulders and parting to reveal his corded neck as he dipped his paw of a hand into the water and started to wash.
“It’s impolite to stare.” He grumbled over the water, drawing heat to your face with a raging fury. Averting your eyes, you did your best to cover up as you trudged back to the shore, slipping on your undergarments and padding off back to camp.
* That night he laid against a tree, body growing cold under the stars as he offered you the only bedroll. He watched you in the early light, asleep near the fire as the sun warmed the air.
* While most of your words were unbecoming of who you were to become, he couldn’t but be charmed as he was equally annoyed. Laughing when you fell in mud, or whined about the lack of food. But how he would give anything to hear you count the stars above and hum with your cheek pressed to his back as the horse beneath you gently trotted through the woods.
* With a few days left of your ride, you had less to complain about as you conversed about the stories he knew, reciting them from childhood. He noticed your arms, holding onto him a little tighter as you laughed when he told a joke or when you shared your own stories. One night you were fortunate enough to come upon an inn, the last before your journey’s end.
* Escorting you to your room, he bid you a goodnight. “Where is your ro-Where will you be staying?” You inquired, eager to have him close. Nervously he rubbed at the back of his neck, nodding out the window. “This is the last one, I’ll be in the stable with the horse.” He quickly whispered.
“Oh, alright.” Before you could stop yourself, the words left your mouth. “You should stay here, it’s too cold to sleep out in the stables. Please.”
* He tried to decline, but the pleading look in your eyes did not allow him to deny you. So he allowed you to pull him in and helped him undress and he helped you. Laying in the small bed, you laid on his chest, fitting neatly against his frame as he wrapped an arm around you and intertwined his fingers with yours.
* You whispered a request, to tell you of what happened to his hand. A story he rarely told but again he could not deny you. You listened intently while running a free finger over the puckered and pulled skin. He let you as he didn’t pull away. Your touch laced with comfort and something else that pulled at him in a new way.
In turn he asked you about Max and you replied in kind. Telling him how you had found yourself in such a position, one that you were currently wishing you were not in. Yawning between words and rubbing the sleep that threatened to take hold.
He listened just as intently as you listened to his, silently wishing you were not promised as well.
* When dawn broke through the night, your body felt heavy and warm, the weight of him wrapped around you keeping you safe felt right and where you wanted to be. Dipping your head low, you planted your lips on the scar that crossed his injured arm, gently stirring him awake to get back on the road.
* The last day of the journey was spent in silence, a gentle sniffle escaping your lips as you drew closer to you destination. To wed a man you did not love and would not love.
* Fighting tears that Max mistakes for displeasure at your traveling companion, yelling in his annoyingly boisterous voice that they are even. That night Max leaves you alone, no longer paying attention to your displeasure, instead entertaining guests and regaling them with absurd stories. Your stealing into the night went unnoticed, riding a horse into the village, to Clyde’s tavern.
* The wooden doors to his tavern creaked open. “We’re closed,” He throws over his shoulder. His demeanor sour and short since his return, more somber than usual. Clearing your throat you draw his attention away from his task, to turn to you. The sound familiar and soothing to his aching heart, like a balm sent to heal and end his suffering.
Turning to look into your tear stained face, he tries to listen but the words fell away one by one only leaving the important ones behind. The ones where you confirmed you did not and could not love Max but you found yourself wanting to love him. The man tasked with the simple errand to escort you for a fortnight to a marriage of convenience and falsehoods.
Before you could finish speaking he had covered the distance between you, large hand reaching for you and gently cupping your jaw. Thumb swiping at the apple of your cheek to wipe away the tears. The others, kissed away by his plush lips, whispering his love for you back before slotting against your lips. 
He moved against your lips, greedily nipping and breathing you in. Savoring the moment as if you were an apparition on the verge of dissolving before his eyes and slipping through his arms.
* What you would do about Max could wait until the morning, you were sure your absence would go unnoticed as you spent the night with the man you loved and who loved you back.
***
Thanks for reading!
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bigskydreaming · 3 years
Text
The other thing I’d really really love to see tackled in regards to Last Laugh (and with the continuity mashups we have in canon now, I REALLY want an official verdict on whether or not that’s considered to have happened in the current comics’ pasts, because then maybe it wouldn’t be just a pipedream that this could maybe become relevant someday).....
But like, I would really love to see Dick’s thoughts on having killed the Joker in light of Jason later coming back....because I want to know how Jason’s feelings about not having been avenged would change DICK’S view of technically having done just that....only to have it undone. This is a huge oversight IMO, that the comics never revisited that even from Dick’s POV, in the wake of him learning that Jason had been alive for YEARS before he returned, and that the Joker being alive was the biggest reason (and an extremely specific reason) that he never came home before.
Because its one thing for Dick to have doubts or regrets about killing the Joker and thus letting him win....when it didn’t bring Jason back. His brother was still dead.
But doesn’t that beg a very specific question being asked?
As in:
What happens once Dick KNOWS, that the Joker being dead....is EXACTLY the very precise, specific thing that COULD have brought Jason back, years earlier, and in a much different way than he did ultimately return?
Jason was very much alive and with his full mental faculties restored by the time Last Laugh happened. 
THIS IS AN EXTREMELY RELEVANT BIT OF INFORMATION.
Like, Last Laugh only happened a few months before Blockbuster did, in comic book time. This was an actual plot point. It was just a few months after Bruce finally adopted Dick....thus leading to Dick actively questioning whether what he’d done to the Joker had Bruce regretting having actually adopted Dick....like I remember Dick thinking about how ‘the ink was barely dry on his adoption papers when he went and broke Bruce’s one biggest rule’.....and then it was only a few months after that, after Dick killed the Joker, Bruce resuscitated him....and then never ever ever talked about it with Dick because as he told Tim “Dick needs to work this out for himself” - like, Bruce was very much NOT trying to have that conversation, because he didn’t approve that Dick had done it any more than he’d later approve of Jason killing. 
And Dick KNEW this! That was WHY all Dick’s other friends trying to make him feel better about what had happened didn’t phase him, because he was still very aware that BRUCE was not okay with it. And THAT in turn, is why months later, Blockbuster’s death got to him so much and why he was so CONVINCED that Bruce would never be able to forgive him for that....because he was still so very keenly aware that Bruce had definitely never actually done that about Dick even killing Jason’s murderer.
All three events were connected in Dick’s mind: his adoption, the Joker’s death, Blockbuster’s. The one after the other after the other. With the thread connecting them all being Dick’s fears about how Bruce viewed him, whether he even loved him or wanted him in LIGHT of these events.
And Jason knew all about the events with Blockbuster. He was keeping tabs on the Batfam by that point, he mocked Bruce about what was going on in Bludhaven during UTRH, and he mocked Dick about Blockbuster’s death when they met in New York.
But what he DIDN’T ever mention was the Joker’s death, because most likely, that was never common knowledge. Batman revived the Joker before the EMTs arrived on scene. There’s no reason to suspect anyone who wasn’t in that church with them, just Dick, Bruce, Tim, Stephanie, Huntress and Babs on the comms....actually KNOWS the Joker was ever dead.
But with the timing of it all? Just months before Blockbuster? Before fighting Tim in Titans Tower, before any of that, in fact pretty much just RIGHT before Jason STARTED his takeover of Gotham’s underworld? Right when he had to be taking his last deep breath, saying to himself okay, its go time, point of no return, about to finally do this and there’s no going back from it, its eight heads in a duffel bag time?
If right THEN, he found out the Joker had been beaten to death by his big brother? Because Bruce hadn’t revived him, or hadn’t gotten to him in time, or one way or another the damn Joker had just stayed fucking dead?
You really think that wouldn’t have changed anything for Jason? His views on how his family thought of him, his plans, his WANTS, whether he felt there was any point in going home, whether anyone was even waiting or would want him there?
And even more importantly, in the wake of Jason’s return, after EVERYONE knows just how the Joker being alive, how no one caring enough to avenge him, how that specific act or in his mind non-action played into the WHY of everything Jason did upon his return, as well as the WHY NOT of Jason not coming home or even approaching anyone from his past before he started down the road to UTRH....
You think that Dick at least never even thinks about the extreme and fucking tragic irony of how....
Well, turns out, ACTUALLY.....killing the Joker COULD have brought my little brother back.
If only the damn clown had just stayed dead.
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living-with-pmd · 3 years
Text
11 Women With PMDD Share What It's Really Like
Premenstrual dysphoric disorder is the evil cousin of PMS. They share the same types of symptoms—moodiness, increased hunger, cravings, fatigue, cramps, pain, brain fog, and depression, among others—but for PMDD sufferers, those symptoms get so bad they can cripple a woman's ability to lead a normal life.  
While up to 85 percent of women get PMS, according to the US Department of Health, only about 5 percent of women experience PMDD, according to the American Journal of Psychiatry.
We asked women with PMDD what it's really like living with the disorder. Here are their stories:
"I was diagnosed with PMDD last summer. Six months prior to my diagnosis, I started taking a certain birth control and soon every month I was experiencing severe PMS issues. I am a generally happy person, but during those few days I was someone entirely different. I was extremely depressed and anxious, having much more frequent panic attacks, and was super sensitive and lonely. I was even suicidal, which was terrifying. And the worst part was I was convinced that I had always been this miserable, and that I would always be this miserable, and it was never going to change. It felt as if someone had completely burned out the light in me and all happiness and joy and hope was gone. I didn't make the connection that it was related to my period but thankfully a close friend did. I have since switched birth control, which helped a lot, and increased the dosage of my anti-anxiety and anti-depressant meds. Most importantly, I am aware of the way I feel those few days so I know to expect it, and I can logically remind myself that I will stop feeling that way soon. Looking back, I realize that I've probably always had pretty bad PMS or PMDD. The birth control worsened it but it was also causing a lot of issues I wasn't aware of previously as well." —Katherine H., 22, Edmonds, WA
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"PMDD is out of control. I cry really easily for about a week. My biggest issue is that I am convinced that I am failing at everything—being a wife, a mom, work projects, fitness, my whole life! And even though it feels so real I constantly have to question if my feelings are valid or if they are amplified by my cycle. I just set an alert in my phone to remind me to consider my hormones the next time I feel that way." —Krysten B., 32, Toronto, CA
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"A week before my period, I become a complete psycho, completely unlike myself. I'm tearful, want to eat everything that's sweet or salty, have absolutely no tolerance for anything other than perfection, and prefer to be left completely alone. I already take an antidepressant but my PMDD was a complete nightmare so my doctor gave me Prozac to take for just 10 days a month. Basically, I start it when I start to get that irrational feeling and keeping taking it until my period starts. And that's just the emotional stuff. On the physical side, I have debilitating cramps, backaches, and headaches that last for days. Yep. I'm a peach." —Kristen L., 40, Knoxville, TN
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"In the past, PMDD almost made me suicidal and totally broke my spirit. Yes it wasthat bad. Every month. Eventually I got tired of being a 'crazy PMS woman' and decided I needed to fix this. Since I don't like to take pharmaceuticals, I branched out to homeopathic remedies and I discovered St. John's Wort and essential oils, especially clary sage and Doterra Calm-Its. It's a lot better now but I still have my hard days." —Amy S., 43, Zebulon, NC
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"My PMDD got so bad I had to go to a psychiatrist and be put on Prozac along with another antidepressant I was already taking. I was a mess—anxious, crying randomly over the smallest thing, and eating everything in sight. One example is someone made a YouTube mashup of the Age of Ultron trailers with Pinocchio footage and the 'I've got no strings on me' song and that wrecked me for weeks. Every time I thought about scenes from Pinocchio I would start panicking and crying at my work desk. It's been a few years and I'm better now. I'm off birth control and weening myself off the Prozac. I notice a week before my period I will sob during any sad part in a movie or book I'm reading, and a day or two before, I notice I'm more likely to be anxious." —Kate W., 36, Alaska
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"This has impacted my ability to work effectively. My pet peeve is when people say 'it must be close to your time of the month' when they simply don't like what I'm saying. I have run into that problem a lot at previous jobs and it makes it really hard to be taken seriously. It's bullshit because my feelings are valid regardless and also PMDD is not a joke. I am so lucky now to have a male boss who understands but it wasn't always that way. I have also have found a lot of relief with naturopathic and herbal remedies." —Amalia F., 28, Vancouver, Canada
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"My PMS was tolerable until my second child was born and then everything went off the rails. I'd be looking forward to plans with others, happy, and then about 10 to 14 days before my flow would start, my mood would turn on a dime. I'd be horrible—crying, screaming that ~nobody understands~, just so much emotional pain. I'd basically lock myself up in the bedroom for a full day to cry, get angry, and feel sorry for myself. It took three doctors before I finally found one who would listen to me before I was finally diagnosed with PMDD. I took Prozac for three years for it but it made me feel numb, like a zombie and not like myself. So I quit and my family just deals with me now. As I've gotten closer to menopause the PMDD is not as bad, but can be very unpredictable due to hormonal swings from perimenopause. The worst part now is I feel like my friendships have suffered. I always seem to have episodes around major holidays and events and I end up bumming everyone out if I do show up so I end up staying home a lot." —Colleen T., 50, St. Paul, MN
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"I'm overly emotional for the week before my period. Saying that makes it sound like it's not that bad but I get so distraught that my fiance has actually scheduled it in his phone as 'blood sport' to remind himself what's coming. I'm thankful that he's patient because I also feel like everyone hates me that week, too." —Kenlie T., 36, New Orleans, LA
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"All month long I'm fine and feel even and calm and then suddenly, the week before my period, I can't handle even the tiniest little thing. My irritability goes through the roof (which is not great since I have a 5-year-old) and I feel like I have no friends. It really makes me sad." —Jessica S., 28, Broomfield, CO
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"I know my period is coming because all of a sudden all of my joints hurt, especially my knees and ankles. I also get crazy gnarly cramps and once I even had a cyst that ruptured while I was on a date and the guy had to take me to the hospital! It was so embarrassing. Thankfully my husband now is very understanding when this time rolls around each month. The worst part is people who just think I make this stuff up. Some months are better than others and sometimes the pain is completely debilitating! My emotions are also a rollercoaster. Anytime I see something cute or inspiring, I burst into tears." —Ivie C., 21, Rexburg, ID
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"My PMDD manifests in both mental and physical symptoms. From the time I got my period at age 12, I've had extreme cramps and heavy bleeding. I'd leak at school through a super maxi pad every class so I'd tie sweatshirts around my waist and have to scrub my clothes when I got home. It was super humiliating. I'd have to take six to eight ibuprofen at a time to deal with cramps, and if I didn't I'd end up on the floor sweating like I had the flu. Sometimes I'd even throw up. This meant I ended up spending a lot of time sick in bathrooms and knew where every restroom was at all times. Birth control helped manage the PMDD and other issues, but as soon as I was done having kids, I had a hysterectomy. That was the best thing I've ever done." —Mandy P., 39, Mendon, UT
https://www.womenshealthmag.com/health/a19972132/premenstrual-dysphoric-disorder/
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Text
Expanding into my other Fandoms (I’m gonna have to take a stance) Read the whole thing please.
One of my oldest and most beloved anime is Inuyasha. As of late I have been binged watching the hell out of it as I am getting my BFF into different anime shows. We are really close to entering the Yashahime part of the series, and she asked if I planned to write fanfiction involving the one character which made me even watch the show as a 10-year-old.
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Sesshomaru
The first episode I ever watched involved this aloof, entitled dog fighting his brother over the sword in their father’s grave. Specifically, it was part 3 of that whole episode series were Kagome pulled out the sword. I at the time had 3 dogs of German Sheppard/wolf hybrid, they were MASSIVE dogs, fell in love with the big white fluff that was Sesshomaru’s demon form. I use to sneak staying up and watch the show faithfully to see the goodest boy as it was only on at 11pm EST on adult swim. Which meant it was bad and I was breaking the rules, I felt like a rebel.
Now I hesitated answering that question. She has no idea of what is in Yashahime, she is being careful not to spoil it so I told her I didn’t know. Recently, to find out what the feel is for Sesshomaru content, I looked into the tag on tumblr…
OH MY GOD.
Sesshomaru’s tag is FLOODED with hate. Like every four post, there is hate, distain, and attacking happening. As someone who watches Yashahime, I quickly knew why.
Sessrin.
Even now I sigh. And I sigh HARD. I am not for, nor am I against the Sessrin train. Same for the Sesskagu train. I think both sides need to look at things on a logical prospective. I plan to do just that. I know I will get hate from the either side and maybe some support as well. But if I am going to do anything in this fandom (as I like doing ships and reader inserts) it will come up.
So, like my Kaiba post, and my Sebastian Heel post, I will use my research skills as well as my COLLEGE DEGREE WHICH HAS BOTH ART AND MEDIEVAL HISTORY labelled on it to explain why this progression in the story is normal to anti-Sessrin fans and why this isn’t a crime by story standards nor should we look at it as a crime.
AS WELL
Explain to Sessrin fans why it is so weird for non-shippers to see it play out and why so much hate formed.
As I let out another sigh, we shall begin. Let’s start at an historical prospective. (Links at the bottom).
PLEASE READ THE WHOLE THING! I’LL BE ABLE TO TELL!
~~
I will start with the information I can access right away.
While finding charts on the life-span of common folk in 1590’s Feudal Japan is rather difficult, Ancient.edu states that the average lifespan was about 50. To put this in perspective, the average lifespan of Europeans at the time was somewhere between 40-45 with the latter being rare. Since most of us reading are not from Japanese descent, I will through Europe in this first.
If we look at the same time frame of 1590, we are looking at most of Western Europe had now entered the age of Renaissance. According to sources from Learning Resources in association with the National Gallery of Art, marriage was not what TV drama’s from HBO or Hulu depicted. By today standards they would be a crime, as the average age for marriage of an adult female was age 14…
The reasoning behind the young marriage age had multiple factors. First being, females were considered an adult once they were menstruating. Birthing also proved to be fatal, and since the lifespan was at best 40 and 45 if they were lucky, there was really no room to wait. Also Europe at the time had became hugely focused on making sure blood lines were legitimate, meaning to ensure the girl was a virgin, the moment she was able to reproduced she was married off. Those they married were not young teenagers either. Most marriages, a man would be in their thirties, and had probably multiple wives as women died more than men when not counting the battle field.
To make matters worse for the Renaissance Lady, these marriages would leave many young males unable to marry and if their husband died in battle, well, unfortunately they were not seen as desirable. This was due to the idea of a ‘free woman’. Should the girl not have a father, brother or uncle to return to as they too died, a widow had her freedom. But that freedom came at a cost. She would be assumed to have slept around, and in many writings, such as the Canterbury Tales, where Geoffrey Chaucer writes about a Window on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land survived her five husbands and the men in her family. In short, she was made to be a slut and to be looked down upon as no man controlled her.
The point of talking about Europe is because that is something most of us Non-Asian or Japanese people consume and like to paint in large romantic brush strokes of knights and magic. Honestly, reading G.R.R.Martin Song of Ice and Fire, he uses this model as we see the Queen of Dragons, Danny start off at age thirteen shortly after she had her first menstruation.  
Now let’s look at Feudal Japan.
As stated before, the lifespan was around 50 years. In some populations, this was even shorter. Nagaoka, Hirata, Yokota and Matsu’ura’s on demographic data at the Yuigahama-minami area in Kamakura, Japan and found both male and female remains that suggested life expectancy to have ended around age 24-25. This was largely due to living conditions and public health. In areas like these, it would make the most sense to marry and repopulate quickly as the expectancy of life was half the national average at the time.
To my frustration, I could not find a clear marriage age for Japanese women at the time of the edo period. HOWEVER, where there is a will there is a way. I took a look at famous Lords or Daimyo’s of the time. The average age of marriage of their wives was between 12-14. Much younger than I expected, but it made sense considering this is a time where war ran the show and marriage was strictly about political gain. One of these Daimyo’s was Masamune Date, who was also 13, but then as he got older took concubines who became considerably younger than him as he became older. The goal was to have as many children as possible for hires and for political marriages to gain power.
Now lets look at Inuyasha the MANGA
Lets get the manga timeline proper here. The whole adventure took place in 11 months, a month shy of Kagome’s 16th birthday. Doing a few estimations, Rin would have travelled with Sesshomaru about 8-9 of those months. But before we get into the relationship, lets look at something the ANIME made a huge mistake with in the beginning and tried to fix as the story went on.
For some reason I could only fine gifs for the Early appearances of Sesshomaru so bear with me.
Early appearances in the manga
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 ^ He was so fickle and a trickster then...
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Now early apperances in the anime.
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Later appearance in the manga
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Laster appearance in the anime
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Notice the issue here? 
Sesshomaru was CONSIDERABLY younger looking in the start of the manga. In the anime, he started off looking like an fully adult male. But as the anime went on, they tried to make Sesshomaru look younger with subtle changes to his jaw line, eye size, and his height. Yeah, his height had changed. They made him shorter.
While in the manga, we see this young-teen looking demon, slowly mature over 11 months to look like he is in his later teens and by series end, closer to being in his late teens or twenty. Yes, art changes over time, but the anime went a reverse route. I can only guess they spoke to the author of Inuyasha about her ships, as they did Drama CDs, and realized the mistake that was made in making him more mature than he was.
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You can’t tell me he doesn’t look closer to his manga self in the final act, because he does.
Since we are on the topic of the anime, lets be clear. The anime timeline and manga timeline are very different. The story in the anime (in the English) suggests that OVER a year has past since Kagome started her journey. They try to fix this in the final act, but it was still so muddled as previous seasons are to be taken as cannon. This could have been due to an translation error in the early production when the anime no longer had anymore manga material to reference. But whatever the case, for English viewers the time the group spent together felt much longer.
So now we come to the heart of the issue.
Because of the mistakes of the anime, a lot of anti-sessrin see the relationship as father daughter. I’ll be honest, watching the anime and solely the anime as a teenager and as an adult (as the manga was on hold for a very long time due to author’s health. I was in college when it finished.), I too thought it was just a father-daughter relationship and Jaken the nanny who got punched all the time. In fact, the English took hard liberties with Kagura, as the English dubs often do with characters, and made it very clear her feelings for the demon lord and Sesshomaru very much recognized them (though he never responded). Even in her death scene, it felt as if he was saying good bye to a friend more than love interest. But who really knows, as there are things that point otherwise.  When another demon mock’s Kagura’s death, Sesshomaru gets super pissy.
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The manga did also play with this fact when it came out in English, idk if the wording or message is different in the Japanese. Translation errors happen a lot even in todays releases, look at Kuroshitsuji.  So of course most anti-sessrin’s did not see this coming in Yashahime when Rin was named mother. In fact it felt like a betrayal as we were sure Sesshomaru had no romantic feelings.
Then there was the Kohaku/Rin mashup that was hinted left and right. The English anime, with its overly dramatic and blunt emotions made it appear one way. That in the end the two kids would probably be married. Then the anime as a whole made Sesshomaru older than intended. I can see why and understand how this became a problem.
On the other side of that coin.
If you followed the dub, seen ‘Swords of an Honorable Ruler’ and read the manga… Sesshomaru was not fatherly to Rin at all. In fact, Jaken picked up all of that leg work. Rin worried for Kohaku, but clearly loved Lord Sesshomaru. Sesshomaru cared about Kagura but he almost CRIED when he lost Rin.
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We have to remember that Sesshomaru and Rin’s relationship must have been very hard for the demon. While we never see his mental process expect for a few rare times, we have to remember he hated humans. In the movie, he blamed a human for the early death of his father, Sesshomaru killed without mercy. It made sense that he wouldn’t be fatherly to Rin as her just being there should have caused countless inner conflicts. Hell, he even says his father’s weakness was humans, and look who picked up that trait.
Sesshomaru was designed to, someday, walk in his father’s footsteps. So sess/rin, not a surprise. Also when you see it in a historical perspective, Rin having kids around age 15-16, makes sense. In fact you could argue he waited too long for the time period.
We also need to look more at the manga when concerned with Yashahime. 8-9 months is all Rin travelled with him and he was like hold up, and left her at the village because he KNEW she needed to come to her own conclusion. That no matter what she picked he would live with and protect her. Unconditional love on his end. She cannon wise spent YEARS living with humans and MONTHS with Sesshomaru. Again, by manga standards of cannon.
Now I can already hear the screaming about age and what not. Some sources say Sesshomaru is over 900, by the rule of thumb, if we look at anime and movie releases, we have Sesshomaru being over 500 with no define age and Inuyasha around 270 years old being more pinpointed due to the movie. Just by going by ANIME CANNON. Kagome and Inuyasha, you have a 15 year old with a 270 year old man. If you say being pinned to the tree doesn’t count, then you have 220.
Also, here is something very interesting. In the episode where Inuyasha meets the unmother, he tells her, thinking it was his mom, she died when he was very small and we have flash backs later in the series of him being small running from demons. Demons clearly age much slower than humans, even half-demons. Inuyasha can be 270 but mentally and physically be 15, the same logic works for Sesshomaru, who in the manga is not much older than Inuyasha.
In the manga, there wasn’t any grooming, in the anime, there was a ton of mess-ups but no grooming.
Would this fly in todays world? HELL NO! NO, its gross, she’s a kid. Stop.
I know any fanfic I write will lean heavily on the side of father/daughter because that is what I grew up seeing on the screen. I can’t think of Rin as an adult because years of seeing her as a cheerful little girl. It’s like seeing G.O.T Arya about to have sex for the first time in season 8… I remember when she was a kid on the show. It was way to weird and I had to look away until it ended. But that’s my 2021 mentality.
But Inuyasha is not taking place in 2021. Feudal Japan is a whole other era with its own beliefs, morals and way of life. Those who understand this have nothing wrong with them. They just understand history.
Also, just to bang some nails in…
Anyone remember Bleach? Remember the MOST accepted couple was Ichigo and Rukia…. Rukia who was hundreds of years old and Ichigo who was 15… or Ichigo’s mom who was a teenager and his dad also hundreds of years old.
Most of this also boils down to Sesshomaru being a dude. As in reverse roles in animes its accepted and they don’t have the same historical context. Inuyasha is based off of historical context of Feudal Japan.
We need to stop spreading hate. We can’t accept some forms of literature because its European fantasy but bash other fantasy based literature for doing the same thing.
Sure, its weird for those who were use to seeing the father/daughter dynamic. Yes, there are extreme sessrin fans who post really questionable illegal content when they decide to leave Rin as an 8-year-old…
But this wasn’t ever meant to be perverted. The story was meant to make sense on a logical and historical base.
I hope everyone takes the time to read this. I love Inuyasha, I love Sesshomaru. I am just sick of seeing so many people fighting over what should be the revival of a beloved series. While yes, there is still room for sess/rin not being a thing, until it is stated otherwise, why hate each other? This fandom will only lose people by doing this. Calling people names or accusing them of illegal endorsement can hurt someone these days over social media.
Tumblr allows you to block tags. You don’t have to read anything or watch anything you don’t like. We gain nothing from attacking each other but can lose so much by doing so. Fanart, really good fan fiction, friends, ideas, sharing fond memories. Both sides have the right to feel as they feel, but no right in hurting each other.
A fandom is meant to bring people together. Not start a war…
Thank you.
https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1002/ajpa.20402
http://www.italianrenaissanceresources.com/units/unit-2/essays/husbands-and-wives/#:~:text=Marriage%20not%20only%20reflected%20order,to%20ensure%20the%20bride's%20virginity.
https://www.ancient.eu/Canterbury_Tales/
https://www.ancient.eu/article/1424/daily-life-in-medieval-japan/#:~:text=Just%20as%20Japanese%20people%20today,in%20Western%20Europe%2C%20for%20example.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Date_Masamune
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Megohime
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freeseafirefly · 3 years
Text
Ob[li]vious (RinHaru fanfic)
Since I'm back to the fandom after a 7-years-hiatus (not that i ever stopped loving these idiots) and have just learned some exiting things like a new movie coming out on the date Harurinralia episode aired, RinHaru advertizing Tokyo Olympics merch etc, you can imagine what an emotional mess I am rn. Also, i've rewatched the anime and read some things i haven't yet read (like Season 1 novel), and all the feels are so fresh as if i'm back to 2014 T_T Thank you, Free!, for being my time machine. Thank you, RinHaru fandom, for being strong over the years, I love you all sfm T_T
Anyway, there's probably tons of RinHaru Olympics fanfiction (gonna catch up on it), but I couldn't help it once my head started imagining this. It's nothing much, no plot and non-native engrish, but i want to contribute something to this fandom, too. Also, it's probably a parallel universe cause it's Sydney Olympics. Idk. I just wanted it all in one :)
Read on AO3 or under the cut
“Haru…!” Rin chokes out as he claps his hand against the wall and watches the familiar slender shape cleave the air over his head, all in one heartbeat that seems like eternity.
It’s the same as in elementary school. The same as in the second grade of high school. As in a number of dreams Rin had over the years. The same, yet much, much louder.
...The crowds on the stadium lose their minds as Haru slices his way through to the end of the pool, a ferocious underwater lightning that seems to warp space and time themselves, and the moment he touches the wall the world goes white with noise.
Shining.
It’s the shining of the Olympic Gold.
Rin drifts back to reality, at least some limited version of it, to the feeling of Haru's body crushing against his in a stormy hug, and they're both screaming, God knows what, just as the rest of their relay team and the Olympic Sydney and probably the whole freaking world right now.
And Rin can almost process it, flashing before his eyes in an almost coherent sequence of images: years of ups and downs—Haru—their best team—his father’s proud shadow—Haru’s laughter—Japanese flags everywhere— But for an endless moment, the spinning world freezes, and it’s only him and Haru. Alone. They’re together in this place of dreams, right on the spot where Haru broke out of his shell and found his passion, eyes shining and wings unfurled; and Rin can barely breathe as he squeezes him in return, something irrepressible exploding in his chest. And Haru laughs , all tears and sweat and dripping water that leave a salty taste on Rin’s lips because at this moment, it seems only natural to press a kiss to the side of Haru’s neck and then breathe out: “We did it, Haru! We fucking did it...!”
He doesn't think about how gay it must look, and he doesn't have the time to, actually, because the next moment the world picks up full speed, and it's not just him and Haru but their whole team in a jumbled heap of dorks going nuts on the poolside because they have the fucking right.
~
The locker room is a mess, too. They sing and shout something jolly and off-key and victorious, kiss their gold medals, drink non-alcoholic beer because some of the guys still have races tomorrow, but Rin is still drunk and he can’t quite feel the ground under his feet. They have to sober up a bit for some government officials to congratulate them on the phone with high words about the honor of Japan and the historical achievement; then for the press to ask them some obligatory, obvious things. What do you mean what I’m feeling right now? I am HAPPY! What? Me kissing Haru? Of course I would kiss him all over again because WE FUCKING DID IT! Hey, Haru! But Haruka is not by his side as he’s probably answering some stupid questions, too, and Rin just laughs, blows kisses into the camera I LOVE YOU ALL! and rushes back to hook himself into the jumping circle of his precious teammates, coaches and staff, and sing the hymn once again.
~
The emotional burnout afterward is real. They walk down the street in deafening silence, he and Haru, just two ordinary guys in their everyday clothes as if they weren't THE BEST IN THE WORLD mere minutes ago. Hell, they still are. Rin can barely keep in the giggles that are bubbling in his chest. He feels like they’re some galactic heroes in disguise. It’s freaking awesome.
Haru is silent, though, probably still not quite back to it, or maybe he’s just being Haru again. Rin leaves him be.
Sydney fusses around them, colorful and bright, all dressed in olympic yet still the same familiar Sydney that once broke his bones and watched him drown with these bright cold eyes. Yet Rin loves Sydney. Look at me now, he thinks proudly. Look at me.
But Sydney doesn’t care to look, too busy in its daily routine, too large. They could’ve just taken a taxi to the station, but somehow, without sparing a word, they both decided it’s a walk. Sometimes Rin wonders if they’ve already reached that level of synchrony where they just don’t need words. It’s been years, after all. Mostly spent apart, but still. It’s not so hard to read Haru when you know him through. Not hard at all.
Yet now, he keeps dead-silent, and keeps not looking at Rin, and Rin begins to feel uncomfortable.
Is it that kiss, after all…?
Rin tries to think back, through his most recent memories which are a mashup of the wildest moments of his life, back to that moment. And his body immediately flushes with heat from the vividness of it.
...Haru’s skin is silky and smooth, and his wet hair are soft between Rin's fingers. Haru’s hands are squeezing Rin so tight there must be bruises on his back. Haru’s taste is… Haru-like. Rin can still sense it on his lips. He sucked it in too hungrily, absolutely in a non platonic way. At the mere thought, a sweet wave washes through his body from head to toe, making his every nerve buzz. Rin chokes on a breath and stumbles.
“Fuck,” he murmurs.
Haru flinches slightly but still doesn’t look his way.
The reality begins to sink in. Rin is an idiot.
~
It does look gay. Totally.
Rin sees the photos on their train ride—mostly the screenshots various people mailed him—when he jams a cap over his hair and fishes his phone out of his pocket, absently going through his inbox. All the messages are a crazy mess of emoji and caps YOU DID IT WERE SO PROUD OF YOU and they all end up mentioning that kiss. Rin curses under his breath and switches his phone off.
Shit.
And of course, of course where they have to be heading now is that exact same room in that same freaking hotel because Haru called Rin on the night before their flight and said he must book it.
That was a joke, moron! Rin palmed his feverish face, for once relieved they're talking on the phone, no video.
Yeah, I figured, Haruka said, and Rin registered—or imagined?—notes of sadness in his voice. But I thought it's a nice idea for a good luck tradition…
How is it a good luck tradition if we can't stay there before the tournament? Rin moaned, because obviously, they would be living and training with the national team in the Olympic village, what is this airhead even thinking?
Then we'll stay there afterward, Haru said matter-of-factly. It's the intention that matters. Book it.
It won't be available anyway, Rin sighed with exasperation.
Do it, Rin.
And just like that, Rin succumbed and went on to book the damn room, his face hot and his heart jumping and missing beats. Because it’s one thing when it's a mistake, and it’s a whole other freaking thing to do that on purpose, clicking all the OK buttons under the "1 double bed" "ensuite bathroom" shit and the pictures of the said bed and the said bathroom behind the glass.
And of course, of course it just ought to be available for that exact date. Holy fuck.
~
There would be times when Rin would seriously consider confessing. He would even go through the most romantic places in his head and compose the most perfect, totally non cliched lines. In his imagination, it would all be sakura petals and city lightscapes, breathtaking views, fancy restaurants with the best mackerel dishes and—if he let his imagination wander off further—private pools and night beaches. He knew it obviously wasn’t a good idea, but he also knew he would jump into it someday. Probably. When they’ve achieved their dream and he’s desperate enough and—
And what? Haru—suddenly—likes him back?
Rin knew Haru liked him, probably even loved him, but not in that way. Obviously not in that way.
...But now, just like that, everything is out in the open, and there’s no meaning in confessions anymore. Rin clenches his sweaty hands as panic begins to engulf him, slowly like a tide.
They walk the last stretch past the quay, and somehow it feels so nostalgic as though they used to live here, not spent a couple of nights some years ago. The city skyline across the water is drowning in the purplish haze of the evening as the night draws closer. So does their destination. Rin feels nausea tugging at his insides.
His voice is a crack as he finally braces himself and says, “There on the poolside... Sorry. I lost it.”
It does not rip through the thick silence between them. Somehow, makes it even heavier.
...This is not how Rin pictured their post-victory evening. In his thoughts, it would be a blur of merry partying involving blissful laughter and bright sparkles in Haru’s eyes, as well as touching words of eternal friendship, team spirit and camaraderie; and the most intimate feeling of love finally intertwined with the joy of the achieved dream would be only for Rin to bask in, drown in, his deepest secret. It was never supposed to confuse and burden Haru. It was never supposed to come out for the whole world to behold.
Now, it must be all over the news. A spur-of-the-moment Olympic coming out... The Japanese Team lets passion speak after the dramatic victory... The Pride Flag rises high in the Olympic Sydney... Rin hisses under his breath.
He's fucking ruined it.
“It won't happen again. Ever,” he finds it important to add. Like it somehow can turn back the tide, fix things and make Haru—along with the rest of the world—just forget.
“Eh?” Haru's voice comes barely audible through the thick beats of pulse in Rin's ears, and the sound of his steps halts.
Haru...halts.
Rin flinches and turns around.
“Ever... Again...” Haruka's lips move without producing a sound. He still doesn’t look at Rin. The bangs fall over his eyes like a shadow.
Rin is confused.
...until something rings alert in his memory. It was one of Rei's talks while Rin was teaching him swimming on the evenings. “...He had been out of it ever since that loss to you. And in the Regionals, it's like he finally collapsed. ‘Will I never swim with Rin again...?’ He seemed devastated.”
Rin was... shaken once again by Rei's revelation. "I won. It means I don't have to swim with you ever again. Ever." He never knew his words had affected Haru that much back then.
It was another grain of hope, another detail Rin attached to his imaginary “signs puzzle”, too eager and incautious. He knew it was a bad idea, he fucking knew it right from the start, and today it finally overflowed, breaking through the barrier of his self-control.
“Ever. Again.” Haru repeats in a firmer voice, his lips twitching in a scoff. And when he raises his head at last, his eyes are a flash of blue blazing Rin’s heart: “Are you chickening out now?”
Rin gulps. Heat flushes the back of his neck. “I’m not...! It’s my fault, ok. You don’t have to comment on it to the press. Just tell them they can go to hell. I’ll do the explaining.” It’s my fault. You shouldn’t be dragged through that shit. You can’t let it affect you, Haru…
“Rin.” He still can’t read through the calmness of Haru’s voice, and maybe even Makoto wouldn’t. “It is you who cares about these things. I never did.”
...and Rin feels all the air being squeezed out of his lungs. He’s back to that horrible, devastating moment in the dark changing room when Haru yelled at him almost the exact same words, “What future? What dreams? It’s you who cares about these things! I’m not like you...!”
Rin forces air back into his lungs. Now, Haru seems rather steady. It is Rin’s voice that trembles as he says, “Like hell you don’t care… wasn’t it you who stopped in the middle of the pool once because of all the pressure?”
“It wasn’t because of the pressure,” Haru denies right away. "It was because I couldn’t understand why I must feel pressured. I just wanted to swim. Not to please the public.”
“You mean… This thing now doesn’t bother you either?”
“Why must it?”
Rin chuckles as he exhales, “Right. You’re the guy who would undress in the middle of a shop to dive into an aquarium, after all…”
Rin's knees almost give out with relief. He’s been an idiot to fear that Haru may leave this path—the path he’d once chosen and never wavered since then—just because of some stupid public scrutiny. And no, Haru's also wrong, because this shit doesn't really bother Rin on itself—but only as far as it affects Haru.
Haruka just nods seriously, his eyes—deadly focused blue lasers—never leaving Rin’s. “If this issue is settled, let’s talk about the important stuff. You kissed me, Rin.”
“I-I thought we’ve just been talking about it,” Rin says in a small voice, panic returning and hitting him like a wave. Right. Publicity is one thing; but what happened between them still stands, and it can't be brushed away just like that. “Haru… I’m sorry. I was carried away by all the feels. It's nothing. It’s not like I… want anything, you know…” he trails off.
Breathe, Rin. Just breathe.
“So, you are chickening out. Even with the gold medal on your chest.”
“I’ve said that I’m not!” Rin clenches his fists in desperation. "God, what do you want me to say now? The obvious? Wanna laugh at my misery...?�� No, Haru wouldn’t laugh, he would feel guilty and sad, like that winter when they were 13, and it’s even worse. “Want it to ruin everything we’ve achieved together...?”
“Ruin?” Haru closes the distance between them in a few firm steps like he means it, and halts only when they’re inches apart. Are they being too loud...? Right, they’re still on the quay… Rin backs off until his ass bumps against the railing. But Haru probably wants to push him into the water because he closes those last inches, too, and presses their foreheads together. “Ruin...like this?” his breath soughs across Rin’s parted lips, “—or maybe like this?” And then it’s not just air, but a touch, too. Hot, angry, gentle, wet, greedy— short. Too short. “You’re such a drama queen, Rin.”
...Passers-by continue walking past them as if the world hasn’t just shaken and ground to a halt. Nobody even looks their way. Ok, this is Sydney, not Iwatobi, not like it’s too big of a deal here, two guys standing like this on the quay and— wait, what…?!
“Haru… Do you… too…”
“Obviously. I do.”
“Since when…?”
“Since forever. I thought you knew.”
“Me? Knew…?” Rin barely recovers enough to peel his hands off the metal and clasp them on Haru’s forearms lest he disappears, and everything is another dream, and Rin is the biggest idiot again. “How on earth? Why couldn’t you just say anything?”
“...wasn’t sure you feel the same,” Haru grumbles.
“Oh? Wasn’t it obvious ?” Rin asks in a mocking voice.
“It kinda was.” Haru is still agonizingly close, just enough a distance to look into each other’s eyes, yet he keeps glancing down at Rin’s lips, and each of these glances releases a jar of butterflies in Rin’s stomach. “You’ve been staring at me with these lovestruck eyes since elementary. But it also could have been that you’re just an idiot, so.”
Rin digs his nails into his skin, outraged but too messed up to come up with a witty response in a second, since another second Haru adds, his voice soft and suddenly not so confident anymore: “Anyway... I was afraid to screw up everything, and before the Olympics, too.”
“Now who is the drama queen?” Rin whispers, tentatively sliding his hands up Haru’s arms, sensing goosebumps popping up under his fingertips.
“It’s still you,” Haru smiles and kisses the tear off Rin’s eyelashes.
~
I want to add the hotel part, of course, once i finish it. So, let me know what you think about it so far! Love you all <3
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sombreboy · 4 years
Text
Wedding night⇢kth x jjk
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⇢18+ ⇢pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook ⇢genre: Smut, fluff, mxm ⇢word count: 12.7k ⇢warnings: profanity which is mostly Tae cursing like a sailor, dirtytalk, drinking, dom!kth, sub!jjk, koo sucks tae off in a taxi lmao, slight cockwarming in koo's little throat?, more oral cuz Koo is cockhungry as hell, DADDY KINK, Tae eats Koo's ass like a fuckin champ, light choking ig but its with luv, anal (as always, this is fictional, use lube- koo loves when tae destroys his ass)
A/N: Serves as an ‘after story’ within the Love Maze series AU, however can also be read on it’s own.
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“Damn, Tae.” Hoseok whistled, messing with the younger’s formal, silk bow tie whilst Taehyung examined his reflection through the mirror; set out to dismiss his hyung’s side comments, no matter how uplifting.
He was nervous— as he was expected to be. It was Taehyung’s wedding day, and although he’d been dying of excitement days prior, now that he stood in his assigned dressing room; his heart was racing . Of course he was thrilled to be marrying Jungkook--he wouldn’t have proposed to the man if he wasn’t 100% sure. But.. still . It was an important milestone in their life--Taehyung wanted it to be perfect.
“Jungkook’s jaw is going to hit the floor!” Jin’s elated voice joined in from his spot on the couch, where he sipped on a martini; legs crossed as if he was relaxing by the beach, living his best life.
“I can just imagine the look on his face.” Namjoon playfully squeezed Tae’s tense shoulders, grinning at the anxious man through the full-length mirror. Taehyung simply shrugged him off, grimacing as if Joon’s touch stung. “Hyungs.. can you be quiet? I’m trying to think.”
Namjoon stepped away from Tae, hands raised in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. I just can’t believe it— that you guys are getting married, that is.”
At that, an awkward smile tugged at Taehyung’s lips. He couldn’t believe it either; it felt like a dream. Tae didn’t regret getting down on one knee at all, he wanted Jungkook for the rest of his life. Some might think they’d been taking it too fast— or are in a hurry to secure their future; but this was what felt right to the both of them. They’d been dating for five years now, making Taehyung twenty-three; a young adult whose life was only beginning— supposedly. But that was the furthest thing from the truth. No matter how cheesy it sounded, Tae’s life began when he met Kook, his husband-to-be. He wanted to be married to the guy, to be able to call him his husband. They’d even started looking into adoption agencies, knowing the process could take up to a year’s time. Fuck what people thought of their decisions, they were theirs to assume the consequences of.
“Shit, I just hope it all goes well..”
“It will, Tae. This day will go down in the book of your lives.” Namjoon reassured.
Jin snickered, hiccuping, “You’re so poetic, Joon. Trust me, this day is going to slap.”
Meanwhile in Jungkook’s dressing room..
“You nervous? Need a cig?” One of Jungkook’s coworkers, Jia, offered; already pulling out a pack of cigarettes from her purse.
“Uhm.. I don’t think that’s a good idea..” Jisoo frowned, eyeing the other woman with uncertainty. “Just take deep breaths if you’re nervous, Jungkookie.”
“Ooor you could just smoke one.”
“For the last time—“
“You girls are so different, oh my fucking god.” Yoongi nonchalantly grumbled, arms crossed over his chest. Jia rolled her eyes, tucking the cigarettes back to where she found them.
“You guys are being annoying,” Jimin sighed, setting aside his beer before waltzing closer to Jungkook, studying the younger’s appearance with a pleased look on his face.
“Tae’s going to love you. You look good!”
''No smoking, I'm literally about to kiss Taehyung in front of everyone.'' Jungkook murmured, eyes hyper fixated on himself in the mirror. Honestly, a cigarette, or ten would be exactly what he needed right about fucking now. He was so nervous, his breathing was shallow-- his hands trembling. He took a good look at himself... He's always looked the same in his own eyes, ever unchanging. But today was different. Jungkook was different. Suddenly, he could see all the changes he's made since high school-- all the changes he'd been through with, and without Taehyung. The ever growing muscles finally at their peak, the suit flattering to his shape from his widened shoulders to his slim waist. His tattoos snaking out of the sleeve to his hands and by his neck. And his always way-too-long hair that he refuses to keep too short only because Taehyung had once said 'I like it long.'.. Now, that must've been years ago, but it stuck with the younger.
"I really look good?" Jungkook glanced at his friends through the mirror.
“Yes!” They all answered in unison— “Decent.”
“Yoongi, shush!” Jisoo playfully pushed the newly-dyed blonde’s shoulder, assuring Jungkook of how handsome he looked.
“Kidding, kid. You look okay.” Yoongi shrugged, successfully dodging Jimin’s incoming slap to his chest.
“Don’t pretend like I didn’t catch you trying to hold back your tears moments before, Min.” Jia smirked, crossing her tattooed arms over her chest; smile widening at the man’s taken-aback reaction.
“Wasn’t crying. You don’t even know me, anyways.” Yoongi huffed, now more hyper aware of his feelings, hence he snapped his head in the opposite direction of his peers.
“Never said you were crying, now did I?”
“Yo, both of you, stop bickering. If you didn’t hate each other so much, I’d think you’re secretly in love with one another.” Jimin didn’t bother looking at the pair, instead focusing his attention on the man of the night— well, one of the men. He was extremely happy for them; they deserved their happy ending after all the shit they went through. And it was a lot..
“You look hot, spicy.” Knowing it’d tickle Kook’s amusement, Jimin giggled whilst he verbally teased him, hoping to ease his mind even for a bit.
“Damn, Yoongi’s crying might rub off on me.”
“I wasn’t crying for fucks sake!”
~
Taehyung was left alone for some time; left to gather his thoughts once the suit was properly fitted, black hair slicked back— a couple strands falling down to his eyes. Still, he felt far from put together.. Reaching for his phone, Tae tapped on Jungkook’s profile, thumbs moving before he could think of the right words to say.
To: Kook Hey ;)) I know it’s bad luck or whatever to see each other before the ceremony, so I settled for texting I’m a little nervous, I’ve had to pee like 10 times now But fuck I’m so eager to make you my husband, bet you look gorgeous as always
Jungkooks scrunched smile and giggle grew, his friends surely knew how to hype him up; even though the nervosity was at its peak. "Thanks guys." He reached for his phone on the table as soon as it chimed, tucking his fringe behind his ear as he tapped the message. It didn't matter how long the men had been together, Tae always put a dumb grin on Kooks face with his interesting mashup of rambles and emojis. He quickly tapped back on the screen, he'd become a pretty good texter these days compared to his younger days.
To: TaeTae I'm also nervous T_T the girls (and Jimin) have been hyping me up for the past twenty minutes...I almost considered smoking a pack but I wanted to taste good lol. x) And I'm pretty sure Yoongi cried! feel so awkward in a suit, but they say I look, and I quote, "spicy" :ooo Can't wait to see you though, I can't imagine how fucking pretty you'll look in a suit.. I'll see you soon ^^ <3
Jungkook cringed, this might be the longest text he's ever sent in his entire life. But it was fun, and hopefully it would help ease the elders' nerves.
"Alright, it's time!" Jimin clapped his hands. "We will head to the audience, you got this Kook!"
Fuck, it was actually happening. They were getting married.
Taehyung comfortably sank back in his spot on the couch, chuckling at Jungkook’s use of emojis; it was fuckin’ cute. His boy was a dork, another reason Tae wanted to marry him.. The younger’s plan unknowingly worked, Taehyung felt more at peace as he typed back his reply; fingers moving quickly as he knew it was almost time to go. Now that he thought about it.. it was a waste, considering Kook probably wouldn’t see it until after the ceremony, but it did calm him down, so Tae said to hell with it.
To: Kook You always taste good tho..love everything you have to offer, you know I’m not picky And fuuuuckkk I bet you’re rocking the suit rn baby, don’t feel awkward
“Tae! Hurry.” Hoseok’s head peeked in from the other side, urging him to wrap it up— whatever had him grinning from ear to ear. Throwing his phone to the side, Taehyung looked at his reflection one last time, messing with Namjoon’s work on his tie. When jogging out of the room, Tae cursed to himself— his speech!  “Shit, never mind.” The elder was so stressed out that he hadn’t noticed the slip of paper was tightly held in his hand; it was nerve-wracking. Taehyung was the one supposed to wait at the altar; after having been decided by a silly game of ‘rock, paper, scissors’. The one thing they took their utmost time deciding on was the name, however.
Jeon. Taehyung wanted to take Jungkook’s surname. Something about wanting a fresh, fresh start. His boyfriend was his everything, and his father was nothing compared to Kook. Tae felt as if change was needed, and what better way than to refer to himself as a Jeon? It drew butterflies in his stomach..
“Fuck— sorry, I’m here now.” The elder harshly whispered to the marriage officiant, nearly tripping over a random cord on the way. Of course. Fuck, his mouth was dry. Taehyung’s chest felt heavy with excitement, squeezing tightly onto the piece of paper that had his vows written inside; just waiting to be heard by Jungkook— and everyone else, but those words were meant for the younger, truly. Shit, Tae just wanted to see him..
~
Jungkook was trembling behind the closed doors, continuously having to be stopped by Jisoo from running his hand through his hair.
"Don't mess your hair up, kookie. We spent hours on taming it!" She chuckled quietly, fixing the tie on his neck. He was a nervous wreck, his anxiety causing his stomach to do somersaults. He wants to throw up.
"I've never been this nervous in my life." Kook bounced on the ball of his foot, taking deep breaths. He was gonna get through this. He wanted this. He just wanted to see Taehyung.
"Shh, it's time. Go get that husband, Kookie!" Jisoo patted his back, grabbing the basket of flowers that she'd share with her daughter, Yuna. She was 5 years old now, and having them as the flower girls was nothing but an obvious choice. The doors slowly opened, music playing and everyone on their seats stood up, turning to look at Jungkook. It was a mix of eyes, all showing their own version of joy, whether it be with tears in their eyes or a large smile. But the only face Jungkook could see was the one staring back at him from the altar.
"Fuck..." Jungkook whispered under his breath, his feet finally moving on their own, eyes tunnel visioned on Taehyung. His heart didn't calm down, instead raced even faster, pounding heavily in his chest. But it wasn't out of nervosity, but of excitement.
“Oh, wow..” Taehyung was whipped— in awe, too. Jungkook mirrored a literal angel sent from above, and the elder couldn’t seem to look away; not for one second. The younger one looked stunning.. “Gorgeous..” Tae’s teeth clamped down on his lower lip, preventing it from trembling due to the emotions that’d taken over his body in the form of shivers. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry..
Taehyung couldn’t believe it, they were only moments away from— “Uncle Tae! I have no more flowers..!” A fit of muffled laughter erupted from the small crowd, causing a flustered Jisoo to attempt to quiet down her daughter, murmuring shh’s.
“But mama I need more flowers!” Taehyung laughed, mouthing to Jisoo that all was well; Yuna was too cute. Tae loved the little girl to pieces. Once she was done throwing her mini tantrum— thanks to Namjoon, who quickly swept Yuna off her little feet; Tae’s big grin gradually died down now that Jungkook’s figure had gotten closer. Instead, he licked over his lips, feeling the warm tears resurface once again.
“Hurry up, I wanna hold your hands..” The needy whisper came out weaker than Taehyung had intended, voice breaking whilst he made grabby-hands towards Jungkook, wanting nothing more than to stand before the love of his life. When both men finally faced one another, the elder had the strong urge to kiss him; but he held back. The time hadn’t come yet..
“Wow.. you look so pretty, baby,” is what he settled for, nervously toying with Kook’s fingers, glassy eyes shrinking the more his smile widened.
Jungkook chewed the inside of his cheek, the only invisible release of his anxious state that he could do at the moment. Taehyung looked fucking otherwordly, it blew his mind that this man... was his. Forever.
''You too.... So handsome.'' He whispered back, doe eyes sparkling from the lights around them, enhanced by the layer of tears glazing over his dark irises.  Don't cry, don't cry, don't fucking-- well, fuck, he's crying. Jungkook was always a crybaby. ''Shit...'' Kook didn't even register the warmth trickling down his cheeks until now, blinking rapidly as he looked at the ceiling to prevent the stinging in his eyes. His tattooed hands immediately intertwined with Taehyung's, squeezing to ensure that this was indeed their reality. And so, they were both reminded of this reality as the officiant's voice echoed in the venue.
"Welcome family, friends and loved ones. We are gathered today to celebrate the union of,'' The officiant paused to look at the younger. ''Jeon Jungkook and,'' And over at the elder. ''Kim Taehyung."
Jungkook's breath hitched, squeezing his husband to be's hands tighter.
"Your marriage will be a lifelong promise to love, respect, trust and honor each other through the good, the bad and the unexpected. This union represents your commitment to support one another as individual beings but share your joys, sorrows, and dreams as one." The speech continued, the officiant rambled about marriage, about love, about everything-- and Jungkook couldn't do anything but silently admire Taehyung, just as the elder did back. Their expression said it all, it always did. Ever since they were younger, the look in their eyes never changed as they found each other's gaze.
''Jeon Jungkook, do you take Kim Taehyung to be your husband?''
Jungkook swallowed tightly, it felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest at any given moment. The way he fucking loved this man was unheard of.
"I do." His voice was clear, and for that he was thankful-- even if his cheeks were damp with tears.
The officiant turned to look at the elder.
"Kim Taehyung, do you take Jeon Jungkook to be your husband?"
Taehyung didn’t need another second to think it through; he’s had five years to make up his mind—“Fuck, o-of course! I mean, I do.” He squeezed the younger’s trembling hands, twiddling with the delicate piece of metal hugging Kook's ring finger; grinning freely past the layer of tears that washed over his chocolate eyes.
“Forasmuch as Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook have consented together in holy matrimony, and have pledged their love and loyalty to each other, and have declared the same by the joining and the giving of rings, by the power vested in me, and as witnessed by friends and family, I now pronounce you married. You may kiss the groom.” The series of claps and exceptionally loud cheers (drunk Jin) from their friends barely reached Taehyung’s ears. The elder practically threw himself in Jungkook’s arms, tightly wrapping his own around the younger’s neck as Tae kissed the hell out of him, taking his sweet time with his husband. Fuck.. felt disorienting— yet extremely fitting to think that; to be able to refer to Jungkook as his husband.
“I love you so much.” Taehyung’s faint whisper only reached four ears, his and Kook’s. Their friends lingered in the beautifully lit background, cooing; some snapping hundreds of pictures (once again, drunk Jin) of the pair. “And yeah, they were right. You do look spicy..” The elder discreetly raised a brow, having yet to part ways from Jungkook’s warmth. “But tonight, you’ll look even better naked.” The elder’s hands tauntingly slid down to Kook’s waist, where he gripped at his soft edges. Taehyung’s dim smirk diminished into yet another kiss, this time needier..
“Uh, guys? You gonna stop kissing now..?” Hoseok gave them a verbal poke, “We’re still here, you know.”
Jia cheerfully butted in, “Let’s get this party started, I wanna get wasted.”
Jungkook wiped his dry tears off his cheeks when theiy kiss is broken, wide smile mixed with his flustered blush. Tae always managed to sneak in the comments that'd make his insides stir from the mere anticipation of what's to come. Their wedding night. Somehow, that thought made it even more special. And even if they've done practically everything together, Koo was feeling a bit nervous... He wanted it to be even more special. He was thankful for the fact that a bit of liquid courage would surely help with his nerves. Honestly, tipsy sex later on didn't sound that bad...
"Don't say such things yet, or I won't be able to wait until tonight.." Jungkook whispered back, burying his face in Tae's neck momentarily until his blush would subside.
Photos were taken, from Tae popping the champagne bottle for their first drink together as a married couple, arms hooked and cheesy for the cameras, Jungkook cutting their cake and feeding it to Taehyung, with all hyungs in the back cheering like dumbasses, to Yuna smearing cream on Jungkook's nose as he held her. It was the perfect gathering for everyone that loved them, and for the ones they loved. The venue had moved into the party event of the night, Kook's suit jacket came off to only wear the pants and white dress shirt underneath, sleeves rolled up to his biceps, hair slightly messy but still put together. Drinks now in hand, hyungs, friends and the married couple exchanged laughs, memories and embarrassing stories.
''Remember when Taehyungie aaalways would give Jungkookie the marshmallows during breakfast? Ah, so wholesome. And here they are, fucking maaarrried!" Jin laughed, raising his glass for another drink.
''And when they disappeared during that party...'' Yoongi added quietly, his cheeks red from the alcohol. ''Then they came back from upstairs looking all newly fucked.''
Namjoon choked on his drink at the memory, remembering literally finding them naked in the room. But, that was something he'd take to the grave, however giving the couple a look of 'if they only knew.'
Jungkook blushed, tilting his head back to gulp down one of his drinks. ''My favorite is... McDonalds.'' he scrunched his nose at the memory, glancing over at Tae. ''Remember?''
Taehyung sat his half-empty glass of wine down. The slender fingers that once wrapped around its crystal base were now on Jungkook’s thigh, caressing over the smoother fabric of the younger’s dress pants— a different feel compared to Kook’s usual, rugged style. “How could I forget..” Tae chuckled, “That’s the place where you asked me out.”
“I knew it!” Jin’s loud voice startled little Yuna, who was busy stuffing her face with a slice of cake whilst the rest of the adults conversed about different topics that didn’t intrigue her five-year-old mind. Immediately, she hid her face in Namjoon’s chest, small fists clinging onto her father’s suit. “Remember that day in the lunchroom? When both of you were being total assholes and wouldn’t tell us who asked who out? I was right.”
Hoseok’s eyes lit up, as if the memories had just registered in his brain— “I remember! Always thought it was Tae, though.”
Taehyung’s cheeky grin evolved into a laugh, comfortably leaning his body against his husband’s, “Nope. It was him, it was right after the party, too. I remember it clearly— my ass was so sore, and the stars were really pretty.. also, the milkshakes. At that moment, he just.. asked if I wanted to be his boyfriend, so I said yes.”
Jimin’s plushy lips jutted outwards into a soft pout, cooing.
“I didn’t know you back then, but that does sound cute as hell.” Jia looked over at Yoongi, seeing as he was already looking back at her. The sensual tension between those two was pungent, anyone could tell. “This man right here cried fat tears during your vows.” Yoongi’s fond expression shifted into a frown, huffing as he poured himself another drink.
“Not true, Jia. You sure love to over-exaggerate things, don’t you?”
Yoongi definitely cried. Everyone knew.
“Whatever, I’m gonna go... to the bathroom, drank too much..” The last bit was mumbled. With a quick look towards Jia’s direction, Yoongi raised his brows— she got the hint.
“Gonna go check my dress, shit’s too tight.”
And just like that, both disappeared from the table.
Hoseok snickered, “Remind you of some people?” Taehyung smirked, bumping shoulders with Kook.
“They’re definitely hooking up. Yoongi had a tent under those pants.”
“Daddy? What’s ‘hooking up’?” It was Jisoo’s turn to glare at the man at her side, “Jin!”
"That's uhhhh..... oh look Yuna, cake!" Namjoon averted the distraction with sugary sweets, which seemed to work by the way the little child suddenly forgot about any mention of 'hookups', his dimpled smile directed to Jisoo. Jungkook leaned onto Taehyung, his fond eyes travelling across the group. The fact they all managed to still be friends was a blessing. The night went on, everyone getting more intoxicated, Yoongi and Jina still gone-- probably left to continue somewhere else.. and Jisoo and Namjoon ended up leaving because little Yuna had a bedtime to attend. The rest of the group stayed around until late hours, cheering and drinking on to celebrate the newlyweds. But all nights come to an end, everyone standing outside the building to bid their farewell.
"Time for you guys to consummate the marriage huhhhh?" Jin winked, one arm clinging onto Hoseok's shoulder to keep him up straight.
"Itll be like any other night." Hoseok snickered, hissing when Jimin kicked his shin.
"Congrats on the marriage, guys." Jimin cheered, blowing kisses in the air to the sweet couple. "I'm very happy for you guys. Ahh.. I want to marry someday too."
"Maybe Mino will marry you." Jungkook giggled, his cheeks red from the alcohol heating him up, clinging onto Taehyung's arm like a child. He surely was bigger, but in a moment like this he seemed just so small and endearing. "See you guys later."
The couple waited for their cab, as neither were in a condition to drive, anxious to get home to their first night as Mr. And Mr. Jeon.
“Someone’s had a bit too many drinks..” Taehyung drunkenly chuckled, wrapping one arm around Jungkook’s loose shoulders to pull him in closer, out stretching his neck; in the lookout for their expected cab. Once the car finally pulled up, Tae slumped down on the backseat, throwing his head back with a tired groan. It’s been a long, exciting day; almost all of the elder’s energy was spent entertaining their guests. “Fuck, ‘m tired, husband..” Like a kid, Taehyung turned his head to gaze into the younger’s eyes, cheeky grin tugging at his lips. “Dunno if I’m gonna be able to fuck you dumb tonight.” Oh, Tae definitely could. Now that he was in a hazier mindset, messing with Jungkook seemed that much more amusing.. The elder might‘ve been tired; but he never got tired of Kook’s body, and tonight was no exception. “Shit, I was really gonna take my time with you and everything.. I was gonna make love to you, hard.” He forced out a defeated sigh, diverting his attention to the various lights outside.
Jungkook turned to look at Taehyung with his wide doe eyes, hands fiddling in his lap. He pouted. "But Taeeee...." he leaned in closer, hand reaching to tug at his husband's collar for attention. He really turned into such a baby when he drank with Taehyung. And maybe, just maybe it also had to do with the fact that they were horny newlyweds, he's been teased all day. "Tired? noo.. babe, we can wake you up. I'll wake youu uuup!"
“God, you’re so fucking cute..” Taehyung scooted closer to his tipsy husband, Tae’s distant laughter now coming across as raspier than before; the slight vibrations in his broad shoulders brushing against the side of Jungkook’s arm. “You’ll wake me up, huh..” Something else was already aroused awake, and the elder couldn’t bare to keep it a secret from Kook for much longer.. “I have an idea— of how you can wake me up, that is.” Taehyung pressed a small kiss onto the younger’s cheek, alert eyes trained upfront. “Wanna know what it is? Shit, why am I even asking, of course you do..” He pulled away from Jungkook’s ear, drunken-breath clashing against the latter’s clammy skin. “Get a feel, baby.” Tae cautiously led the younger’s hand to his bulge, ragged breath hitching in his throat. He was extra sensitive, and it was hard to not make much noise.. The driver would start to get suspicious. “Ah shit.. move your hand.” With a quick peek upfront, Taehyung undid his zipper, man-spreading for Jungkook. Luckily the back was dark enough, but there was always a chance of them getting caught..
Jungkook's eyes sparkled in the dark, biting down on his lower lip to prevent the needy whimper that threatened to escape his throat. He probably wouldn't admit it so openly, but there was something about the risk of getting caught that turned him on even more than if it would've been a simple wait for them to get home. Taehyung surely knew that though. Kook was his little exhibitionist. And the latter was ever grateful that the elder indulged in his deviant desires. "Can't believe I get to call you my husband." Jungkook whispered, voice more steady this time around. One hand still palming Tae’s bulge over his pants, his other hand snaked underneath the waistband for a direct contact, sighing out a shaky breath at the silky, soft yet hard length that throbbed in his hand. Kook has seen, tasted and touched Taehyung's cock what felt like a million times before, but there was no way he could ever get enough of it. Slowly, he stroked Taehyung's rigid length with lazy movements, relishing in the response he drew out from his husband in the form of twitchy hips, the struggle to remain silent.
“Fuck..” Taehyung’s tongue swiped over his lips, temporarily wetting the dry patches. He harshly tugged at his lower lip with his teeth, and the corner of his mouth twitched once as he held back a deep, thick growl. “My fuckin’ husband; you like this, don’t you? My sneaky baby.. jerking me off in the backseat of a stranger’s car. Dirty little thing.” The elder gently rocked his hips into Kook’s hand, looking down at the way the front of his pants would bulge outwards with every stroke. “So fucking good. You imagining it’s your ass wrapping around me, baby boy? Hm? Fuckin’ bet you wanna jump my bones; you wanna feel this big cock inside of you— fuuck..” Taehyung threw his head back, squeezing his eyes shut.
"Mmhm... shit, when you talk like that..." Jungkook rubbed his thighs together, uncomfortably adjusting his erection. "Drives me mad. My little ass is throbbing, clenching just thinking about your fat cock filling it up." Koo whispered into the elders ear, squeezing Taes turgid length a little harder, his hand getting more and more slick with every stroke, focusing his attention on the swollen mushroom tip than the rest of it, rubbing his thumb underneath the crease of the head. "I love you. Do you feel a bit more awake now?" He breathed out coyly, nuzzling his nose into Taehyung's neck. For one it could look like an innocent cuddle, little drunk koo just seeking leverage. But the innocence was nowhere to be found in either of the boys.
Taehyung’s nails sank deep into the fabric of his pants, feeling the strong muscles under his thigh shift into a clenched position. The way Jungkook’s thumb kneaded the spot under the reddened tip; accentuating his vigor— it had Tae losing it. Kook knew how much that gesture drove him insane. He also knew that it turned Taehyung on to the max; if the latter wasn’t in such a trance, he would’ve had to punish Jungkook for it. How dare he tease him in a situation like this one?— knowing Tae wouldn’t be able to fuck his brains out.. “Y-yeah.. more awake. Keep rubbing under there..” The elder grew harder in Kook’s hand, the rocking of his hips gaining more momentum. “O-oh.. fuuck.”
“Everything okay back there?”
Shit— shit! As if it could possibly hide the commotion going on inside of his pants, Taehyung’s hand instinctively covered over his bulge; looking like a wide-eyed idiot. He quickly turned to look at Jungkook, silently pleading with him to answer for the both of them. His voice would betray him, Tae was sure of it. Fuck, he just wanted to arrive at their expensive suite already and fuck his husband..
"All good, siiir! Just a little too much to drink!" Jungkook chirped back, keeping his eyes fixed on Taehyung's wide ones. Mischief was evident on Jungkook's expression, he was fucking thriving off of the risky situation, the embarrassment that could possibly dawn upon them. But Kook was confident the chance of actually being caught was more unlikely. "Don't worry so much, you're way too obvious..." Jungkook whispered, although he did enjoy the tension it provided. "I wonder if I could just suck you off right here?" He added lowly, eyes lowering to watch his hand resume it's work, squeezing and rubbing at the swollen head. He licked his lips, nodding to himself as he leaned down, his raven hair barely visible in the dark anyway. "Just gonna take a little nap til we arrive." He cooed out loud, quietly tugging down Tae's pants to release his length from the strain of fabrics. He sighed, the sound coming out as a quiet moan that only the elder could hear before directly taking the tip into his mouth, no teasing-- just as much as he could possibly take down his throat, tongue brushing against the velvety skin. He remains still, his gag reflex well trained throughout their years together, allowing the elder to just feel the wet warmth of Jungkook's fleshy mouth, like a good cock warming prep. Koo knew this would drive him mad, riled up to the max to get what he wanted in their bedroom later on; a desperate, rough, punishing fuck.
“Kook— wha.. a-ah..” Taehyung gasped; he didn’t expect Jungkook to actually go through with it, but now that the younger’s mouth lingered frozen around his heated cock, Tae found that to be even more surprising. Jungkook was really testing him.. “Fuck, babe quit playing and suck my dick..” His fingers wove themselves in through his husband’s long hair, tugging at its roots.  Taehyung stared down at where Kook’s warmth engulfed his most sensitive body part, desperately trying to make out the younger’s swollen lips in the darkness.  Still as cautious as ever, Tae’s eyes continuously flickered between the focused driver and his husband, slightly pushing downwards on Jungkook’s head. “Baby, fuck.. so warm, shit.” Taehyung felt as if he’d be able to stay like this forever.. “You’re taking in all of it like a champ, Jesus..”
As if Jungkook was cock-warming him, Tae threw his head back, eyes closed while he visibly relaxed. It was tempting to fuck the younger’s mouth, but after a long; eventful day, this was what Taehyung needed..
“So newlyweds, huh? How does it feel?”
The elder’s eyes immediately awakened, worried that the man would be able to see Jungkook through the rear view mirror. He pushed down on Kook’s nape, feeling the younger’s drool slither down his naked length. “Oh, uh.. it— it feels great.” Taehyung bit down on his rosy lip, slowly thrusting his hips upwards. Fuck, Kook was going to be the death of him.
Jungkook placed his hand on Tae's thigh, smoothing his hand in slow circles as a way of reassurance that he's fine. But of course, Tae knew the younger could take it all. He took a deep breath through his nose, swallowing tightly around the elders swollen length. The fleshy walls of his throat constricted, the light quiet sound of the younger gasping for more air more prominent. But Kooks hand remained soothing on Tae’s thigh. It was fine. He loved this. And, the fact that Taehyung was having a conversation with the driver only made it so much more entertaining.
"That is amazing. You two make a very handsome couple. I can hear the sighs of women from here when they see the two of you together." The driver chuckled lightly.
The moan scratching at the back of Taehyung’s throat converted itself into an awkward chuckle; his posture stiff as he relished in the comforting touch of Jungkook’s hand. “Y-yeah,” another forced laughter, “He’s very good.. very handsome. Lucky to have him— o-oh shit.”  Tae felt his husband’s throat close in around him, and the elder insisted Kook could make out the saltiness of his precum. Shit, he was practically squeezing it out of him at this point, Jungkook was so fucking tight..
“Everything alright?” Of course the driver heard.
“Yeah— yeah, ‘m good.”
Taehyung’s tongue swiped over his lips, his fingers having yet to part from the younger’s hair. “Wanna feel you even more..” Subtly, Tae’s hips fucked into his mouth, the tip of his cock repeatedly prodding against the back of Jungkook’s throat. “Oh god..” His body’s rhythm was steady, but anything was better than nothing. The elder stared down at him, admiring the way the boy’s plush lips would occasionally graze the skin of his pelvis. Jungkook’s gag reflex had gotten better, and Taehyung was big— it came as an initial surprise for both. Now, they were used to it. While his dick stayed snug inside of Kook's mouth, the driver decided it’d be a good idea to continue asking them questions.
“Any plans for the future?”
“Uh, buy a house, raise a baby— things like that.” Normally Tae wouldn’t have answered so quickly, but he was desperate for the man to stop asking them questions..
“That’s amazing. Babies are a handful, I have two of them myself, so I wish you guys the best of luck!”
“T-thanks. We’ll need it.”
“How does your husband feel about that? Excited to raise a kid?”
“Yeah, babe. How do you feel about raising a baby with me?” If Jungkook could tease him, so could he. “Come on, wake up from your nap honey. It’s rude..”
Jungkook clawed at Taehyung's thigh for having the guts to force the younger to interrupt what he'd started. He really didn't want to separate his throat from Tae's cock. However, he did, slowly feeling the rigid length brush against his fleshy mouth as he pulled back to sit up straight, combing his fingers through his hair with one hand and wiping his teary eyes with the other. "Yeah,'' His voice came out hoarse. He padded his eyes with the back of his hand, instead acting as if he's so touched by the very thought of children. "Yeah I am very excited, can't wait to raise a child with him." Kook glanced over at the elder as he said so, he genuinely meant every word that rolled off his tongue. However, right now, there was a hint of his mischievous annoyance present. He wanted to tease more. Instead, he opted for simply... Not going back down, leaning back in his seat as he placed his hands in his lap, covering the throbbing bulge he's rocking of his own. Fuck, this car ride felt like it was taking forever...
"How sweet.'' The driver chirped as he finally pulled over by their street.
"Well, here we are. It was a pleasure talking to the two of you, I wish you the best of luck with your future. And congratulations on the marriage."
After seconds of just.. waiting for Jungkook to dive back down, Taehyung passed as an actual idiot. He expectantly stared at his husband, dick stiff as a pole— but without anyone to take proper care of it. When it became obvious that Kook wasn’t planning on continuing, Taehyung scoffed, tucking himself back in with a sour expression. This man..
Once the sight of the massive hotel came into view, Tae was eager to get out of there. He rummaged in his back pocket for his wallet before paying the driver, thanking him for the thoughtful wishes regarding their marriage. However, part of him felt guilty that the man remained clueless about what took place in the backseats, so Taehyung gave him a big tip. It didn’t completely get rid of his gnawing guilt, but it definitely helped..
“Thanks. Drive safe.” The elder waved at the man, an innocent smile on display until the car disappeared from their sight.
At that moment, Taehyung grasped onto Jungkook’s bicep, bringing him closer. “What the fuck was that?” He growled into the younger’s ear, “You didn’t even suck me off, that’s low, babe.” His bigger hand snuck down to Kook’s ass, giving it a firm squeeze. “You teased me a lot back there, I don’t wanna hear a word from you when I do the same. Now come on, let’s get checked in, then we’ll see if I’m still up for it..”
Being manhandled in this manner had Jungkook speechless, the one and only sound he dared to allow slipping past his suck-swollen lips was a breathy whimper. Now, it was no secret that the younger was physically the one at an advantage if he wanted to be-- but the thing is, he crumbled so easily with every word hissing through Taehyung's teeth. Jungkook nodded, keeping his gaze low on the ground as his lips curled up in a small smile, legs trembling with excitement. This little game, it was the perfect thrill. Would he get teased until he physically couldn't take it anymore? Would he be left tied up on the bed for hours upon hours? Or would the elder simlpy be too impatient and just fuck him into a dumb drooling mess?
Not knowing what to anticipate drove the younger mad.
Once they made it to the door of their premium suite, he patiently waited next to his husband who had the keycard to the door, eyes occasionally daring to look at how Tae practically oozed with frustration-- like a cloud of power that followed him all the way from the car. Kook licked his lips at the sight, a soft shaky breath all that left him as he shifted his weight on his feet, keeping his head low still. He wanted to feel small.
Taehyung turned on the doorknob, stepping into the neat space that’d soon turn into a mess. The elder was annoyed, and Jungkook knew how he got whenever something was on his mind, especially something like this.. “What are you doing still standing there? Get in.” No trace of fondness remained put in Taehyung’s naturally lower voice. Tonight, he’d put Jungkook through the merciless teasing that the younger showed him in the car; and Tae was going to enjoy every minute of it. After closing the door behind them, the elder loosened his bowtie, throwing it to the corner where his suit jacket laid. He turned around to face Jungkook, forcing the latter to stare into his eyes by redirecting his chin upwards.
He really looked too cute..
“Why are you so shy? You look so innocent..” Taehyung clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, withdrawing his hand from Kook’s chin. “But you’re far from innocent, and I think you know why.”
With a bratty smile, Tae made himself comfortable on the edge of the bed, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his top. “Why should I fuck you, hm? You’ve been nothing but a pain in the ass.” He made zero efforts to meet Jungkook’s eyes, playing uninterested.
Jungkook's doe eyes widened as he stepped closer to the elder until he stood in front of him, knees almost touching. He tried to meet Tae's eyes, but they kept avoiding him like the plague. And that alone ignited the needy fires within the younger-- he craved the attention even more when he was deprived of it. "Please, Taehyung." Jungkook's voice was low, a just audible enough whine. He dropped to his knees in front of Tae, still desperately attempting to feel his husband's gaze on him. "I'll be good, so good for you." He added, his hands already unbuttoning his own shirt after loosening his tie; eager to free himself from the restraints of the fabrics. Eager to feel Taehyung's clammy skin against his own at some point. Kook threw his shirt to the side, leaving his tie loose around his neck purposefully. He leaned in, placing his tattooed hands on Taehyung's thighs daringly as his sparkly gaze seeked attention. "I'll do anything to make up for it." He licked his lips as he said so, genuine in every sense of his words. "Mr. Jeon." He quirked a brow, liking how his name sounded when addressed to the elder, giving him a new level of authority that had Kook's cock throb beneath his dress pants.
Mr. Jeon..
Taehyung’s fingers tightly curled around Jungkook’s loose tie, roughly pulling the younger’s body upwards, unbothered to be the one who put in the effort to make their gazes clash. In this moment, Jungkook was his little doll; Tae got to handle him as he pleased. “Anything?” Their noses were practically touching whilst the elder’s hot breath fanned Kook’s flustered face, his eyes dead-set on the younger’s relaxed lips. “Call me that again.” Taehyung not only wanted to hear, but he wanted to see. The elder’s stare fell heavy on Jungkook’s lips, anticipating seeing the way they moved as Kook referred to him by such a commanding name. “Fuck.. say it.”
Jungkook licked his plushy lips deliberately slow before he inhaled deeply. "Mr. Jeon... Please, use me." He said with a low voice, his dark eyes still seeking for any attention. But knowing he wouldn't get it until the elder chose to, he settled for observing every little reaction he was able to draw out of him. He knew Taehyung didn't go unaffected, whether he acted like it or not. "Jeon Taehyung." He repeated the full name, this time it came out more like a strained sigh due to the tightness of the tie around his neck, eyes fluttering shut when he felt Tae's hand tug at the fabric controlling his airways.
Fuck, Taehyung couldn’t take it any longer; he had to have Jungkook. It was annoying— how the younger more often than not got away with whatever the hell he wanted, simply because of Taehyung’s undying hunger for the man.. But, who said the teasing had to end there? Surely not the elder. It was more fun that way.. Tae’s bigger hand unlatched itself from Jungkook’s tie, instead snaking around to the latter’s nape, sinking his fingers into the rigid skin before forcing their lips together. The kiss was anything but gentle, instead it reflected off of how Taehyung was feeling at the moment; needy, controlling— rough. “You’re gonna regret messing with me..” The elder mumbled in between their breathless kisses, the grip on Jungkook’s nape now more prominent, and so was the bulge in his tight pants. “You’re gonna listen to Mr. Jeon’s every word, got it?” Taehyung’s thumb caressed over the smooth skin of Kook’s cheek, feeling the warmth radiating from it. “Now undress me, but undo my zipper with your teeth. Hold eye contact throughout all of it, can you do that, puppy?” Not waiting for a clear answer, Tae comfortably leaned back on his arms, waiting for Jungkook to get started.
A spark of excitement swirled in Jungkook's dark gaze, eager to please and serve his husband. It was so fucking hot to see him this way, a nonchalant expression oozing of power, leaned back to showcase just exactly Jungkook was yet to unwrap for himself to see. Kook was confident, thrilled; and impatient. The mix had his hands trembling as he firstly finished the job of unbuttoning every single button on Tae's dress shirt, letting it freely fall to his sides to expose the firm yet soft torso that the younger had seen and admired countless times; yet every single time it felt new. "Yes, sir." Jungkook dragged his upper teeth across his lower lip as he lowered himself back on his knees between Taehyung's legs, eyes never wavering from his husbands. He clicked the initial button of the elders pants open before inching down to clasp the zipper between his bunny like teeth. Kook still stared up at the other male, desperate for any praise at all; and it showed in his eyes. And he was ready to work for it, there was no challenge the younger male wouldn't attempt to conquer. With every tooth of the zipper unraveling, the sound triggered his cock to pulse beneath his still intact pants. He both relished and cursed the slow pace of this, he craved to feel full, yet the journey there was just as exciting. When finished, he kept his teeth clamped on the little metal piece on the zipper, not daring to let go until ordered to do so.
“Have I ever told you how fuckin’ pretty you look when you’re obedient?” Taehyung purposely stayed back to watch Jungkook’s patient expression, knowing he could tell the younger to let go of his zipper whenever he wanted. “Now’s when you decide to be good, huh.. shit, so gorgeous..” The elder leaned forward, a shit-eating smirk tugging at his slightly swollen lips. “Let go.” Right as Kook was beginning to pull away, Taehyung’s palm pressed flat against his throat, gripping at Jungkook’s neck with his slender fingers. Although his grip was too strong to wriggle out of, Tae made sure it didn’t hurt Kook.. badly. “If you were so confident in the car, how ‘bout you prove to me just how deep you can go, hm?” Taehyung’s thumb pressed down harder at the receptive spot on the side of Jungkook’s neck, loving the way his husband seemed taken-aback by his actions. “Suck my cock, no games this time.” Growing impatient, the elder let go of his hold around Jungkook’s skin, expecting him to follow through; just like he always would.
"Yes." Jungkook gasped his word out the moment Taehyung withdrew from his throat, his throbbing erection aching so badly it almost hurt. He wanted to please so badly, he was thriving as he would remain feeling inferior throughout. He placed his hands firmly on Taehyung's thighs, using only his mouth to pick up the tip into his mouth, leaning forward to take the entirety of his husband's rigid cock down his throat, tongue brushing against the soft skin as he did so. Taking a deep breath through his nose, he wasted no time in hollowing his cheeks, sucking with an evident hunger as he began to slowly bob his head up and down. Every time his plush lips pressed against the elders pelvis, he'd feel his throat fight the girth in the form of constrictions, his eyes beginning to gather a layer of tears. He looked up at Taehyung as he withdrew, keeping the tip in his mouth as he swirled his wide tongue around it, only for him to move back down until the bulbous head prodded the back of his throat. Jungkook resumed his ministrations for as long as Taehyung would desire, the wet, loud sounds of the younger sucking with greed striking in the quiet room.
The muscles underneath Taehyung’s throat bobbed with every gulp he took, jaw slack as he watched Jungkook get to work; in a trance from the way his husband’s tongue circled around his head. Ever since they were younger, Kook always knew how to please him during a blowjob. The younger knew what he was doing, and it benefited them both. Those times they’d sneak out of the classroom only for Jungkook to get down on his knees— that feeling of infinite bliss and exhilaration never left. And now here they were, married, yet acting like the horny teenage boys they once were when they properly met... That’s how Taehyung felt with Jungkook; young.
“Shit.. you’re gonna fucking make me burst..” The elder threw his head back, the raspiness of his moans now accompanying the lewd sounds in the room. “You love my cock so much.. fuuck yeah, that’s it, good boy.” Taehyung relished in the warmth a bit longer, cheeks flushed with color. He could endure it a little more..
Jungkook pressed his thighs together at the sounds he managed to draw out of his husband, his muffled moans still caught in his throat. He took it upon himself to ease the pulsating ache between his legs by reaching down with one hand, unbuttoning his tight pants to seek some relief. Never once did he waver the rhythm he'd built up, skillfully sucking and licking Taehyung's turgid length as if he was worshipping the man himself. Kook snaked his hand beneath his own waistband, palming himself through his underwear to find even the slightest of friction, his teary eyes forcing a tear down his cheek to join the mess of drool and precum on his lips and chin.
Similar to a favorite movie of his, Taehyung found the sight below him so foreseeable yet so enticing. No matter how many times the elder’s seen Jungkook’s drool glisten down his skin, each time felt like the first. Kook was working so hard for him, maybe it was about time he did the same.. “Shit.. that’s enough.” With his hands on the younger’s shoulders, Taehyung withdrew his cock from Jungkook’s mouth, instantly missing the warmth it once provided. He gazed down at the thick layer of drool on his dick, and then back at Kook’s face— he looked beautiful like this, with rosy cheeks and watery eyes.. But Tae knew something else had to be done. “Strip for me, wanna see all of you..”
Jungkook gasps for air, not bothering to wipe his glistening chin at all as he gets up on his feet. His cheeks are flushed when he sees his own erection aching beneath the fabrics of his pants. His already exposed torso clammy from working hard on Tae's cock, messy hair and the loose tie gives him a sure look of a good, submissive boy. Now all that's missing is to show off just how badly he needs Taehyung. "Am I doing well?" Jungkook asks, fishing for more praise. His tattooed, long fingers curl around his pants as he pulls them down along with his underwear, allowing the fabrics to pool at his feet before stepping out of them. Now fully in the nude (except for the little cute tie around his neck), he takes a step to stand right in front of his husband, hands limp on his sides as he awaits what's next, cock twitching in anticipation.
“You’re doing amazing, baby..” Taehyung’s hooded eyes skimmed down Kook’s exposed, awkward stance; inhaling every inch of the younger’s skin as if it was smoke to his lungs. Jungkook was drop dead gorgeous— even in such a vulnerable state, he managed to make the elder’s breath hitch. Taehyung was sure that feeling would never, ever go away.. He never wanted it to. It kept things exhilarating between the two; it gave Taehyung a rush like never before. “You look so fucking cute with your tie.” A low chuckle emitted from deep down the elder’s chest whilst his feet moved on his own, breaking the small distance between their bodies. One of his hands landed on the side of Jungkook’s waist, and his pointer finger hooked itself underneath the flimsy fabric around Kook’s neck, drawing him in closer. Their cocks gently grazed over one another, the small contact having Taehyung bite down on his lower lip— his husband’s lower lip, anything to be more than close. “You turn quiet real quick, don’t you?” The elder breathed out against Jungkook’s neck, running the tip of his nose along the responsive skin. “Hope you’re less shy when I pound into you, wanna hear you.” In that instant, Taehyung harshly drove the younger’s back against the wall, caging his relatively larger build in between his own. No matter how much stronger Jungkook was; or how tough he appeared in people’s eyes, Tae knew the younger man would always be his baby boy.
Those doe eyes made Taehyung want to corrupt him again and again.
“So fuckin’ pretty, goddamn.” The elder’s mouth latched on to his husband’s sweet spot, sucking on the soft skin as if it was the last thing he’d do. Both of his bigger hands held Jungkook’s wrists above his head, stopping him from wriggling too much. “Gonna give you so many hickeys, want everyone to know what we came here to do.. and that’s fucking mark my territory.”
"Ah~ yes, I'm yours...." Jungkook's rosy lips parted in a needy whimper, muscles in his arms and torso flexing as he lightly tugged against the restraints that were Taehyung's hands-- however not hard enough to actually set himself free. He could.. but he did.not.want.to.. He was thriving to be Taehyung's good boy. His regular day to day life always consisted of being the big guy, the strong guy. The one in charge. And ever since they were teenagers, the elder was the only person who could reduce him into a whiny, needy boy that just wanted to be manhandled, praised, and properly and utterly fucked. Jungkook's breathy moans were growing heavy, eyes screwing shut as he deliberately focused on the way Tae's lips sucked on his skin-- and trying his best to ignore the borderline painful ache between his legs. He could practically feel the precum drool from the swollen head of his tip. But it was so much easier said than done, and the younger's well repeated words throughout the years slipped past his lips in a quiet whine. "More, please.."
Taehyung’s lips attached themselves to parts of the untainted skin of Kook’s neck, down to his collarbones and shoulders, where he stamped a bundle of kisses— ranging from big to small— along every shuddering dip and arch. “Such a good boy for me, I love you.” With one last look into Jungkook’s eyes, Tae spun the younger around on his feet, hands grabbing at his small waist. “Just wanna devour you whole..” The elder’s breath clashed against the other’s nape, feeling the delicate hairs of Jungkook’s skin brush against his nose in a feather-like touch. Everything Kook had to offer was intoxicating.. Taehyung nuzzled his face in the crook of his husband’s collarbone, one of his hands snaking around to where Jungkook’s aroused cock bobbed. His long fingers didn’t wait to wrap themselves around the thick girth, accumulating the precum at the tip, and smothering it down to the rest of his length.
“Don’t cum yet, alright~?” The elder pressed himself harder onto Kook’s ass, pushing the latter’s chest against the wall. His rock-hard dick stayed snug in between his husband’s cheeks, taunting him with painfully slow thrusts. “Fuck..” Taehyung flicked his wrist a couple of times, then proceeded to carefully stroke Jungkook’s wet cock— from the base to the tip. “Your moans are so fucking pretty, I wanna hear them all the time.”
"Oh, fuck... Tae.." Jungkook pressed his cheek against the wall, heavy huffs and moans slipping past his lips. His cock twitched happily in the elder's hand, finally receiving the attention he so badly craved. But it quickly turned out to be not enough. Not enough at all. "You're so good to me-- god.." kooks voice tore into a higher pitched moan when the elders cock pressed against his plump ass, arching his back to seek more, to silently beg for his husband to fuck him already. But he knew better than that, Tae wouldn't give in so easily; even if they both knew and desired just that. "You drive me crazy, I love you so mu-uch!" He tensed his leg muscles, desperately trying to hold back how fast his orgasm wanted to creep up on him, whining louder with every stroke provided by the other male. Kook imagined their first time in that dirty locker room, this position way too familiar-- yet so different. Tae back then compared to now was a completely different man; and yet parts remained exactly the same. Just like Taehyung, Jungkook felt younger with his husband, like they're still a pair of horny teenagers. Now, they're just older; and much better at what they're doing. "Please... baby, I need more." Kook glanced over his shoulder, his dark doe eyes pleading to the elder like a puppy. "Stretch my tight ass for you... I want your fat cock in me.."
Koo paused for a moment, grinding his hips back against Tae's cock-- "Daddy..."
“You know me too well, baby..” Taehyung growled into Jungkook’s ear, grunts muffled against the side of Kook’s neck as his hips gained momentum; feeling the delicate skin of his cock glide between Jungkook’s ass, continuously rubbing against his husband’s clenched entrance. “Oh fuck, daddy’s gonna make you feel so good.” His hand’s dragging motion faltered, “Well, he always does, doesn’t he?” Taehyung’s teeth tugged at the back of Kook’s tie, forcefully ungluing the younger’s tinted cheek from the wall, choking him in the slightest. With the piece of fabric securely clamped down in his mouth, Tae tauntingly tilted his head to the side, wearing a sly smile upon properly making out Jungkook’s shift in blissful expressions. He looked too fucking good.. The elder’s hooded glance was casted downwards, admiring how the tip of his cock would pop out with every upward drag, standing tall in between Kook’s cheeks. “Hngh..” Taehyung tugged harder with his teeth, nails sinking deep into the flesh of Jungkook’s hips.
"Y-yeah, always-- ahn...." Jungkook shamelessly rolls his hips against his husband's cock, legs quaking to keep himself up, hands firmly pressed against the wall to keep some kind of leverage as he gasps from the pressure against his neck as he's tugged back. "Please, now-- need more..haah..." He breathes out in a choked whisper, licking his lips until they shine as if they were glazed with gloss. His fingers curled against the wall, not caring that it'd cause marks if he kept going. Nothing else mattered, only the boys-- reckless and messy, just like they've always been. Now that Jungkook was deprived of the friction of Taehyung's hand on his cock, all he could think about was to feel his clenching hole being stretched and filled to the brim, his agile hips continuously grinding back deliciously against the elder, showing him what he's missing out on. "Just shove it in me, I'm dying without it." He pleaded once more, screwing his eyes shut as he prayed for the tease to soon be over with-- he swore he'd combust at any moment if he couldn't have it.
Taehyung’s rigid mouth let go of Jungkook’s tie, letting the damp fabric resume to its spot on the younger’s nape. Now that he was able to, Tae trailed open-mouthed kisses along Kook’s flexed shoulder blades, the fluttering of his eyelashes grazing the man’s soft skin. “Just a little longer, babe. You’re a big boy, you can handle it.” However, Taehyung himself didn’t know just how much longer he could take it either.. He was good at teasing, but it didn’t mean he didn’t want to rearrange Jungkook’s guts right then and there. The elder kept it up for a few extra seconds, continuing to grind against his husband’s ass; his dick sandwiched in between each rosy cheek. But those seconds felt like hours, and that’s when Tae called it  off. “Not gonna shove it in you now, at least wait until we’re on the bed, will ya?” His chuckle caused his shoulders to vibrate, and his cock to twitch. “It’s our first time as husbands, let’s be a little classier~”
With one last squeeze to Jungkook’s ass, Tae led them both to the spacious bed, too high on the moment to part their hungry kisses. His hand securely clasped the back of his husband’s neck, deepening their kiss until the back of their shins met the wooden edge of the bed. Taehyung lightly pushed on Kook’s chest, urging him to lay on his back whilst he discarded his dress shirt that the younger had previously unbuttoned, lower lip clasped in between his teeth. Kicking off the pants and boxers pooling at his ankles, Tae proudly showed off his naked physique before situating himself above Jungkook, towering over the younger man. “So gorgeous.. so pretty.. so fuckable.” Despite their difference in size, Taehyung was used to manhandling Koo in the bedroom, so it came naturally. The elder liked to joke that carrying his buff husband around was the reason he’d been gaining extra muscle recently.. “Gonna stretch you out first, but with my tongue.. spread those legs wide for daddy, he wants a taste of you.”
Jungkook's cheeks flushed in pink at the praise and commands hurled his way, nodding as he did as told. Shuffling up further on the bed with his husband on top, he reached behind his knees to spread his legs wide for Taehyung, exposing everything he had to physically offer like a good boy. He just looked so small like this, it was pitiful yet endearing. "With your tongue...?" Kook meekly replied, leaning his head back comfortably against the soft duvet, the blush on his face spreading fast across his features. He felt a bit embarrassed, but... He wanted it. Taehyung was skilled in many aspects, and using his tongue was definitely one of them. "Taste me, please daddy...."
“Gladly, baby.” Taehyung could pinpoint Jungkook’s obvious embarrassment from a mile away, the redness in his cheeks drawing all the more attention to his body’s natural reaction. The elder could relate, but he also knew that at the end, Koo’s initial uneasiness would soon turn into pure lust; Taehyung knew how it went— all too well, in fact. “You look so pretty all spread out for me, yeah you do.. fuuck.” Tae pressed his hands against the backside of Jungkook’s muscular thighs, leaning downwards to meet his feast in the eyes. “So pink ‘n untouched.. but not for long.” The elder’s wet tongue lapped over his husband’s clenched entrance once, giving each of them a small sample of what was to come. “So sweet, too..” Tae’s chaste kisses were sensual around the rim, his fingernails digging deep into Kook’s flesh whilst he steadied himself on his knees.
A drawn out moan passed through Jungkook's parted lips, pressing his head back against the bed. His hands withdrew from his thighs to allow the elder to take over the grip of his legs, his own hands vulnerably laying above his head. His hips jerked lightly at the sensation, his tight entrance twitching from the welcoming warmth teasing around it. "Mmh, yeah.. Feels good.." Koo announced his pleasure in small, breathy whines, indulging in the way his husband is taking care of him, worshiping his body like it was his last meal in this life. Jungkook glanced down at Taehyung, and the sight had his cock throbbing. The elders dark fringe dangled over his eyes, strong arms holding Kook's legs up, the lower part of his face hiding to please and tease with one of Jungkook's most sensitive parts. "Fuck, you're so hot.." Koo was already losing any sense of embarrassment, all he could feel was the overwhelming lust drowning him-- tunnel visioned on his husband, and his husband only.
“Fuck, I know,” Tae outwardly agreed like the cocky bastard he was, allowing his mouth to linger close to the milky skin of Jungkook’s thighs, ghosting over the smooth flesh with his plush lips. “Gonna finger you first, I know how much you love that.” The elder’s tongue slightly peeked out of the corner of his lips, switching his utmost attention to Koo’s hole; and as if an indescribable pull had taken over his senses, Taehyung’s middle finger sank in without a warning. The man was still leaning down, too focused on the way Jungkook swallowed his slender digit to look away. Soon enough, Tae added in another finger.. and another; and like a small child in a candy store, he was amazed by how much his husband could endure. His eyes were shining with anticipation, mouth watering from the simple sight.. The scissoring motions inside of Kook came to a halt, and as soon as he pulled out his dripping digits, Taehyung’s lean tongue snuck its way past the gaping opening. It was a new feeling.. he’d eaten out plenty of girls before in his High School days, but having his tongue deep inside of Koo felt new— not necessarily a bad kind of new. Shit, he was so warm and.. pleasant. Taehyung’s eyes were fluttered shut, relishing in the way he flicked his tongue in the compact space, scolding himself for not doing this sooner.
"Yeah, yea- oh god..." Jungkook's moans from the familiar fingers broke into a gasp at the new sensation of Taehyung's warm, wet, firm tongue smoothing his insides, his thighs trembling in Tae's hands. "Holy shit..." Koo almost chuckles in disbelief at the fact they hadn't done this the other way sooner, placing his hand over his face to wipe his clammy skin, cheeks flushed red. "I see why you like this so much now, wow..." Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair, slightly dry from the residue of the product, taking deep breaths as he closed his eyes, allowing himself to truly focus on the wet muscle exploring his most intimate parts. "Feels so good.."
The constant shower of praise and moans of approval amped up Taehyung’s slowly diminishing confidence. He didn’t know if he was doing any good— until Koo decided to open his mouth. He gripped tighter onto his husband’s inner thighs, knuckles turning white from his secure handle. The elder’s skilled tongue lapped at every reachable inch of Jungkook’s insides, humming in pure delight at the new taste he’s grown fond of. It didn’t take long, once and Taehyung was hooked.. “Oh wow, you taste so fucking good,” Tae murmured under his heavy breath once he’d pulled away for a quick second, gathering extra spit in his mouth before aiming at Kook’s swollen hole. He placed kitten licks on the entrance, lips slightly puckered as he roughly fucked his tongue in and out of Jungkook, one hand sneaking up to toy with the younger’s warm balls.
Jungkook's hands instinctively reached for Taehyung, combing his fingers through his dark curls as his moans had gradually grown breathier and louder. "Uh huh-- shit, you're so good at that.." Jungkook mindlessly spits his verbal reassurance of the pleasure he's put through, his words coming out as high pitched whines. Kooks hips squirm for more, greedy and needy in every sense of the word. He was an absolute puddle for his husband, always have been, always will be. "I love you, I fucking love you... please, need your cock so bad, noooow..."
The elder withdrew his mouth from Jungkook’s ass, warm spit glistening around his blood-fueled lips and the tip of his nose, making Taehyung look all the more fucked as he gazed down at Kook; making a show out of the way he slipped his tongue back in his mouth, moaning deeply whilst he savored the rest of his husband. Didn’t taste overly sweet, and that Taehyung liked.. “Wanna eat you out everyday now..” Koo’s pink entrance was slick from Tae’s previous work, the rim spread wide enough for him to poke the head of his cock through— “Shit..” Taehyung’s tip was immersed in between Jungkook’s flesh, and soon enough was the rest of his long, thick length. The younger always takes him in so well.. The first time 18-year-old Tae slipped inside of Kook might’ve been a lot to take in, but they’ve both gotten used to each other’s bodies throughout the years they’ve been together.
“Fuck, you good?” Taehyung’s veiny hand guided his dick to a more comfortable position, his long fringe falling down to his eyes. “I love you so fucking much, Koo, fuck.” The elder threw his husband’s legs over his broad shoulders, resting his muscular arms beside Jungkook’s head before beginning to grind into his man, starting at a slow pace. It was their honeymoon.. it had to be somewhat romantic. “I can’t believe you’re my husband— hngh..” Tae grunted out loud, “I-I can’t wait to have a family with you, yeah.. fuck, wanna grow old with you ‘n do everything t-together— so tight..”
"Mhm, yes." Jungkook nodded, his calloused fingers grasping around Taehyung's lower arms tightly, blunt nails digging into the skin for his own sake, he needed to claw at something to release the overwhelming warmth that spread throughout his body. "So good, I love you-- shit, I love being your husband." Koo's eyebrows were tightly knit together as he stared up at Tae with his doe eyes, his blurry vision glazed over with every single emotion he could possess at a moment like this.
Lust, love, relief.
He was just as whipped for the man on top of him as he'd always been, for years already-- and he had no doubt that this was his forever after.
Jungkook bit back a raspy moan when Tae's cock finally started to tease at his prostate, eyes fluttering in bliss, struggling to keep his gaze focused any longer, simply drowning in how amazing it felt to feel his husband's hips grind into him with the utmost affection. It was fantastic, but knowing the younger man-- slow only pleased him for so long... "A-ah, your cock is so big... I love it, fuck, more... Please, Mr. Jeon.." He purred, deliberately clenching his warm flesh around the elder's turgid length, the hint of mischief sparkling in the younger's eyes.
Tae burrowed his face in the crook of Jungkook’s neck, their bodies’ shine mingling with one another whilst Taehyung sweetly kissed the pale skin, tasting the slight saltiness of his husband’s sweat on his lips. He licked over them, allowing them to hang open as grunts and groans made themselves known in the room. The elder wasn’t shy when it came to the noises he made in the bedroom; he wanted to let Koo know just how good he was making him feel.. His husband held a tight grip on his cock, causing it to twitch in anticipation as Tae gradually thrusted deeper into him. “Love it when you call me that— hmph..!” His balls smacked harder against the younger’s ass, squelching sounds taking over the invisible bubble they’ve made for themselves. “Fuck..” It came out as a hoarse whisper, and one of Taehyung’s hands snuck between their bodies to grasp onto Jungkook’s cock, giving the stiff skin a few delicious strokes. “So good..”
"Aa-aah*..!" Jungkook snapped his head from one side to the other, pressing his flushed cheek against the bed. His body trembled like a leaf at the added sensation, a drawn out moan in relief, finally touched where it ached the most. He felt like he'd been a really good boy then and there to finally earn this as a reward. "I f-feel good? fuck--" His voice was strained and wobbly, every thrust choking his words. "Tell me, tell me please... How good I make you feel."
Koo knew already, the sounds his husband was making gave him no doubt about the pleasure his body brought upon the elder. But Jungkook loved to verbally hear it. Almost like back when Taehyung had gone overseas, and all they had were FaceTime. Even though they could easily look at each other through their screens-- the verbal aspect of it was Kook's favorite. And it stuck with him since, hearing that deep voice his husband possessed tell him the most filthy of things, and the highest of praise; it turned Jungkook on.
Taehyung’s head tilted upwards, the fringe no longer as smooth. Instead the dark hairs stuck together by a thin layer of sweat on his creased forehead, giving him little access to truly look into Jungkook’s doe eyes whilst he grumbled out his next words; “Your insides are always so fucking tight, no matter how many times I push my cock in you— hngh.. it never fails to drive me crazy..” The elder snapped faster into Koo, having yet to withdraw his hand from Jungkook’s dick whilst he thrusted into him at an animalistic pace, feeling the head of his cock prod at his husband’s abused prostate. “You’re so warm, too.. the warmest I’ve felt in a really long fuckin’ time. Fuck.. so soft. You make me feel so good.” Still jerking Koo off, Tae’s mouth wrapped around one of the boy’s nipples, swirling his wet tongue around the bud before lightly nibbling on it. He quickly flicked the awakened nip with his tongue, humming into the skin.
"Fuck yes, oh my good, Taehyung..." Jungkook's whiny moans turned into sobs, his abs flexing as they tightened in rapture, the pool of heat quickly ramping up in his lower abdomen. The continous prodding of his sensitive prostate drove him mad. "I'm gonna c-cum, I'm clo-ose, ahhn..." His eyes were filled with desperation, sparkling with the layer of tears and admiration swirling within them. He was completely transfixed on his husband, absolutely whipped for the attention his body is given in so many various ways at the moment. Taehyung's cock, his mouth, his hand. It was overwhelming as hell. Jungkook could easily feel his own cock drool with precum, his thick length swelling to full hardness as if it was about to explode at any moment. All he needed was just-- one. small. push.
Taehyung’s release was also knocking at his door, begging to be spread across Jungkook’s fleshy insides as every thrust of his cock dragged Tae’s energy down bit by bit. “G-gonna cum inside, so close..” Eager to make Koo break down along with him, Taehyung’s grip on his husband’s dick tightened, feeling the stickiness of the younger’s precum cover his fidgeting fingers; easing the slide of his sore hand. “I love you, I love you— a-ahh.. fuuck I-I’m cumming so much.” Spurts of warm white shot into Jungkook, dribbling out of the latter’s entrance as it was too much to hold in despite his cock staying still in its place.
“Wow.. so, does this officially make us husbands now?” The elder’s voice was raspy as he teased, breath hitching once he pulled out of Jungkook to lay on his back, chest heaving whilst he blankly stared at the ceiling. It felt different, yet not different at all.
Jungkook's clammy chest heaved up and down and placed one hand on top of his skin, mindlessly rubbing at his peck as he chuckled. The aftermath of his own orgasm still pulsated in his softening length, the pool of his release warm on his lower stomach. "Yeah, it does." Kook's voice was just as hoarse. He turned his face towards his husband with a small, toothy grin on his face. They were both exhausted, definitely sobered up, and.. sticky, to say the least. But, content nonetheless. Jungkook couldn't have imagined a better way to spend their first wedding night together.
"Hey." His voice lowered, eyes heavy on the elder as he scuffed closer, pressing a soft kiss on Tae's arm.
"I love you. Can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you, Mr. Jeon."
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© sombreboy 2020. Do not repost, edit or translate. Co-writer is my lovely @velvetwicebang​ <3
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