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theoats99 · 22 days ago

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The things we do - Simon Kelleher

(Gif not mine)

Summary - The holidays go by with little fanfare, the new semester takes you and Simon to different schedules. After Simon learns your new chemistry teacher is being cruel you worry what he'll do.

Words - 4,121

Warnings - More heavy petting, oral both giving and receiving, very slight angst with a teacher being a dick to reader.

Note - I'm back! My Holiday present to you all is a more detailed smut. Every time I write anything dirty I feel more confident in myself, and I do hope it shows through in the writing of this and my upcoming works. I hope everyone has a great Holiday!!

Christmas and New Years goes by with little fanfare for me and Simon. He’s busy with his parents' party, and with About That. The holiday had brought out a lot of people with nasty secrets coming to light, keeping him glued to his computer making drafts and posts alike. And with the new semester switching all three of us around, quality time seemed reserved for after school.

This semester I have two classes with Janae, and none with Simon. Our project last semester on The Scarlet Letter had landed us an A, of which Simon was all bravado. Me and Janae had Chemistry and History together, two classes we both loathed. Simon was smart, there was no arguing that, so he was in higher level classes. With the only period the three of us shared being lunch it felt impossible to see Simon during the day.

It’s already the end of January and the New year and new semester made both of us very busy. It doesn’t help that all I can think about is what we did on Christmas Eve, how he’d felt and how he’d made me feel. Even in the whole of last week the only time I spoke to Simon was by phone, like we are right now.

“So can you help me with my Chemistry homework? Please Simon.” I lay it on thick, me and Janae both hate the class, and the teacher. He wouldn’t be so bad if he would help more. I'd asked him to help explain something to me, he’d stared me right in the eye and told me that I should know these things by now. He’d gone as far to say ‘What type of school did you go to before this?’. I had not told Simon or Janae this, worried that they would blast the teacher on About That.

“Yeah, but it’ll be easier if I can see it. We can look at it tomorrow after school.” It sparked hope in me.

“So you’re coming over tomorrow then?” The line is quiet for a second, I can hear him typing.

“I was more thinking we would come back to my place, but if you want the apartment that’s alright.”

“No, your place works. It’s just usually my place.” He hums on the other end.

“Because my parents are annoying when you’re here, but my dad is on a trip and my mom is at the office all day. Plus my bed is bigger.” I laugh at him.

“Wow, bringing wealth into the equation. I get it, it’s okay. My dinky little bed is pathetic.” He laughs back at me.

“No, your bed is perfect, it truly is magical. But mine is just better.” He’s cocky, I can hear it in his voice.

“My bed is magical? Wow, it's awesome to know, what type of tricks can it perform?”

“Well, it’s small so it forces people together, then things just magically happen.”

“Uh huh, so it’s my bed that makes things happen. Because then we could say the same thing for the couch too.”

“Oh, but the couch is nowhere near as magical.”

“Yeah? And what, is this your plan to see if your bed is just as magical as mine is?” He doesn’t say anything. “Simon?” Worried that I’d possibly taken it too far.

“My bed just has more room, so the magic tricks wouldn’t feel so cramped.” His voice is louder, I assume he’s taken me off of speaker, so I do the same with him. Leaning against the bed frame I hold the phone to my ear.

“So you want more space for activities?” Even with the door being closed I worry my brother will hear me, so I also speak low and hushed.

“More space would be nice, a wider circumference to do things.” He’s beating around the bush, for all Simon’s general ego and cocky attitude he’s in the same boat as me with the sexual things. We’re both new to this, so we learn together.

“What type of things did you have in mind?” I can hear the breath he takes on the other end.

“I would like to touch you again, like we did last month.” I can feel my heart thumping in my chest. “And maybe even more, if you wanted.” It feels like I’m aflame again.

“So you’ve been thinking about that?” He takes another breath.

“Of course I have been, haven’t you?” He sounds exasperated.

“Maybe I have.” It’s been all I could think about.

“You’re teasing me, and people think I’m mean.” I laugh at him, it breaks the tension a little bit.

“You are mean, I’m just matching it.” He huffs at me. “I hate to say it but I gotta go, it’s almost eight and I still have to shower.”

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He sounds disappointed, but we say our goodbyes. In the shower I think about what he said, he’d been thinking about it, and even more. I know what I’ve been thinking about, but what could be cooking in his mind?

In the morning on the way to school with Simon we chat about my homework.

“So why don’t you just ask the teacher for help?” I huff at him.

“Me and Janae tried that, he’s lazy so he just ignored us.” I shrug at him, I can tell he doesn’t buy the excuse. Janae at least had Meave, and her sister was in the same Chemistry class as Simon, Janae went to her then.

“I had that teacher, he wasn’t lazy, an asshole, but not lazy. Did you really ask him for help?” Simon is glancing over at me now, I can feel his eyes boring into the side of my face dissecting my lie.

“Okay fine!” I exclaim. “I asked him for help okay? And what does this prick say, he looked me right in the eyes and said ‘What type of school were you before? They should have taught you all of this’.” I can see the anger in his face when I’m done.

“I just don’t want to ask him for anything else, I have to be in his class all semester anyway. I’m not about to be pissing him off more and risking my grade.” I pause and turn myself towards him. “And I swear Simon, if you do anything to make him dislike me even more than he probably does I’m going to be livid.” His jaw jumps at the threat.

“He shouldn’t be talking to students like that, it would be anonymous.” He’s angry, I can hear it lacing his voice.

“But it wouldn’t be Simon, not when it goes back to him. How many other new students could he have said the exact thing too? I’m sure I’m the only one, and I’m over it okay? Just please Simon, help me at least get a grasp on the work.” I’m pleading with him, practically begging him to leave this be. By now we’re at school and parked, he has his elbow leaned against the door panel, his chin resting on his clenched fist. When he finally looks at me he concedes.

“Of course I’ll help you, we’ll start after school.” He sounds calmer now, and I let out a relieved breath.

“Thank you.” Before he knows it, I’m reaching across the center of the car and planting a chaste kiss on his lips. Then out of the car, he finally exits the car after a few seconds with a light pink dusting his cheeks.

The rest of the day goes well after that, my classes are enjoyable. At lunch me and Janae sit at the table alone, I look at my phone and with no text from Simon I worry he’s doing exactly what

I asked him not to.

“Hey, where is Maeve?” Janae laughs

“She got lunch detention.” I gawk, Meave was fiery that’s for sure, but she was a good student.

“What happened?” Janae shuffled closer to me, we’re touching side by side now.

“She called the chemistry teacher an asshole, she asked him something and he pretty much told her something mouthy ya know.” It feels like I’ve been gut punched. “So she called him an asshole this morning, then she went to the principal. And I wasn’t there for this part but she texted me afterwards that they were going to look into him and she would have lunch detention all week.” I look at her, trying to calm myself before asking her.

“Did she speak to Simon at all today?” Janae looks puzzled.

“What? No. She kinda dislikes him to be honest, she said he’s a little too big for his britches. Don’t worry she loves you though.” I feel a little better at that, maybe it was just a whole big coincidence that this happens the day I tell him. Simon doesn’t come to lunch, and when I text him about it he shoots back with how he’d needed to do some last minute work for a class, that he was sorry he forgot to text me.

It leaves me on edge all day, I did know that Meave was not a big fan of Simon. The fact helps me, why would she help him in any way? And why would she tarnish her damn near perfect academic record helping him? Me and Janae meet in Chemistry, our last class of the day.

The whole class is a flutter over Meave’s actions this morning, and to my surprise I hear many others talking about their bad experiences with the teacher. Many are mirroring what he had said to me just a week ago, then I see him, Simon walking down the hall past the door. We make eye contact and he smiles, I know it then, it was Simon who did this.

It’s cemented when a new teacher walks through the door, a young woman. Who tells us that our teacher won’t make today and she’ll be subbing. The class is easy, and the woman is nice, she actually listens to our questions and helps with examples on the board. The entire hour I thought about Simon though, I pleaded with him to not do anything, and while he directly didn’t he enlisted the help of Maeve to.

When the class lets out I stick with Janae, telling her I wanna see how Meave is doing. Janae is touched by it, I have ulterior motives though.

“Hey Meave, how are you doing after this morning? Janae told me all about it, are you okay?” She averts her eyes from my own.

“I’m fine, just a little shocked he’d say that stuff to a student.” She shrugs, and Janae hugs her. She’s fidgety though, she won’t look at me. We chat a little bit longer but I tell them both goodbye and start walking to Simon’s car.

When I get there he’s already inside of it, waiting on his phone. When I get in I waste no time before asking.

“What did you do?” It’s accusatory, and he has the gaul to look taken aback.

“I haven’t the foggiest idea of what you might be talking about.” He pretends to think about it before returning. “Oh, I know what you’re talking about now. You’re asking me about the chemistry teacher, the old asshole who insulted students? Yeah and the same guy who insulted my girlfriend? Well it turns out she’s not the only one who had been insulted, and a common friend was more than eager to become the martyr.” I’m stunned, I was fully expecting him to lie. To deflect that he’d had any part in it.

But here he is, fully admitting to me. “Look, I know you’re probably pissed. But that guy had a bad track record and I figured it’s time for it to stop, no one insults you okay? His class is easy, if he had just helped you from the beginning then you’d probably top of your class in it.” He’s raining praise down on me, I can feel myself flush as he continues. “Plus did you know that his junior year chemistry course has the most failed grades? Because he won’t help anyone, a bunch of different kids in this school had to take a less advanced class and take summer courses.”

He’s looking me right in the eye now, with such intensity it takes my breath away.

“Plus now, I can write about this, and it won’t link back to you at all.” I laugh at him, of course this game had two goals.

“Thank you.” I tell him, he laces his fingers through my own and gives a squeeze. At his house true to his word the place is empty, not a soul in the house. In his room I waste no time flopping down on his bed, as much as I hate it his bed is better.

It’s softer and bigger, plus it has the added extra of smelling like him. He sets his bag down and more gracefully joins me on his bed, him laying on his back and me on my stomach. I take the moment to admire him, his hair is longer since we started dating, now fanning the bed under him. I watch his jaw and rake my eyes down to his neck and arms.

“I can practically feel you looking at me.” I jump a little, looking back at his face to see him gazing at me out of the corner of his eye.

“What about it?” I counter him, he turns his body on his side towards me.

“You’re a creep, looking at me all the time, that’s all.” I turn to my side too now, smiling at me.

“You are so hardly in a position to call me a creep.” He scrunches his nose at me, he shuffles closer to me. “I mean, you told me you’ve been thinking about me, that’s pretty creepy if you ask me. But I guess that also depends on what you were thinking about?”

We’re close now, so close I see his pupils dilate a little as he looks at me, taking in my words.

“I’ve been thinking about this, just having you here. Doing this.” After he says it he leans down and kisses me, it’s light, just like the one this morning in his car. “And this.” He adds as he kisses my nose and forehead, before traveling down to my jaw where his kisses become heavier. The feeling of his lips on my neck turned me to putty, like they usually do, and my breathing is heavy.

He runs his hand on my side and under my sweater and pushes me lightly to my back, where he positions himself between my legs quickly. He’s back on my neck in seconds, hands on my back pulling me to him.

“Is this what you were thinking about?” I ask him breathlessly. He comes up from my neck and takes in my face.

“What have you been thinking about?” He asks me instead, I tell him before I have the chance to think too much about it.

“I want to try going down on you.” He looks stunned by the admission, and he goes to say something but I lean up to kiss him before he has the chance to. It’s then when the kiss becomes heavier, he kisses me roughly now with his hands on my face keeping me there.

He’s different today, today he feels more bold. Especially as he grinds himself against my core, I can feel how he’s already hard in his pants, causing me to gasp against his lips. He takes the opportunity to try something else new and he licks along my lip, before I know it he’s in my mouth. I can taste the cherry flavor of the suckers he enjoys on his tongue. When we break apart I’m a gasping mess, he goes back to my neck then his hands go grabbing my behind again, using them to lift it against himself.

“When you say things like that it drives me crazy.” He admits against my ear, his words bring a moan out of me, and another one after that when he bites behind my ear. He’d sounded just as breathless as I feel, I weaved my fingers into his hair then brought them to the back of his neck grazing my nails against his skin as my hands traveled. His hips jerk against my own at the action, it brings the same feeling to my core as it had last month.

I go to push his shoulders but he stays exactly where he is. “I’m staying here this time.” He starts, going to stand on his knees looking down at me before continuing. “Because I’ve been thinking about doing the same thing to you.” His confession sends a jolt through my whole body with it resting in my own core.

For a moment we stay like that, just looking at each other. “Is that okay?” He asks.

“Yes.” I respond to him, he slowly this time comes back to me, slipping his hands under my shirt. I shift to just take it off for him, and unlike last time I’m wearing a bra, and he runs his fingers over the material.

“It’s pretty.” He murmurs, more to himself I think, but the admission still heats my whole body up. His fingers trace the blue material, he traces the straps up my shoulder following them to my back where the clasp are. I lift myself up a little to give him more room but he still struggles with the clasp. I laugh lightly at him as I replace his hands with my own and unclasp it, shrugging the straps off my shoulders and sliding the bra off to the side of the bed. He’s watching me the entire time, each movement my hands make each breath I take. When the bra is off he’s back on me with his hands all over me, they both land on my chest squeezing. His thumbs run over my nipples and I moan again against him.

The sound causes him to jerk his own hips, then once more he moves them against my own fluidly. The action makes me dizzy, it feels like he’s everywhere as he moves again against me. His hands travel from my chest down to my pants where he skims the button of my jeans, then his hands grasp it and undo it. I lift my hips and allow him to bring my jeans down, then watch him throw them to the floor, he runs his hands up my thigh to my hips, I nod at him when he loops his fingers under my underwear. With them thrown to the side I’m bare to him.

I bring my own hands to his pants and pull him by his belt loops again, he catches himself on his hands. I run one hand against him, he’s straining against his pants, I palm over his erection and he sighs against my neck.

“This isn’t fair, this is supposed to be about you, not me.” He tells me.

“Well, I want you to take your pants off too.” I pout up at him, he obliges and starts to undo his belt then he’s sliding his pants down. I can again see him straining against his briefs, maybe this time I’ll actually be able to see him, not just feel him. I don’t get the chance to think about it much longer before he’s touching me, I sigh as he runs his fingers through my folds, he sighs against me as well. He’s watching himself as he runs his fingers up my clit then back down soaking up all the sighs and moans I let out, when he pokes my entrance he again looks back up to me, and I nod to him to keep going.

He starts with one finger, just like he had last time. He slides in and out easily, I’m clutching onto his comforter with one hand and grabbing his arm with the other, my grip intensifies as he adds another finger, which pulls a louder moan out of me this time. He’s on my lips in seconds, kissing me as he moves his fingers in and out then he grazes something inside of me that brings a gasp, and a jerk of my hips. Simon hits it over and over again, until I’m a writhing mess against him trying to match his fingers movements with my own hips. When the pressure breaks I put my face into his neck, both hands clutching onto his shoulders as a loud moan of his name slips from my lips.

Still lost in the feeling of coming down I don’t realize that Simon’s moved himself between my legs, when I feel his tongue against me I jump and try to move away. Simon is not having it, using his hands to keep my hips into place. The feeling of his mouth against me is different than his fingers, it feels better, and it takes no time before I’m a mess under him again. Before I know it the pressure is building again and when it breaks I only have my hands to muffle the sounds I make.

When Simon pulls away from me I admire him, he looks like a mess. My own juice on his lips and chin, he stays down there for a second catching his breath. I sit up this time, going to my knees to level with him. I kiss him then, smearing myself on my lips as we kiss. It’s messy and it almost feels gross, but when he grabs my behind and pulls me closer to him all that leaves my mind. I put my hands on his shirt and un button it, pushing it off his shoulders, then we’re skin to skin.

His skin feels hot against my own, I can feel his chest heave against my own. Then my hands go to his underwear, curling into the band of them, as I pull from our kiss to look at him. He nods to me and I help him slide them down his thighs. He’s back to me once they’re discarded, his hands back to my jaw bringing me to him, our lips move in rhythm and I can feel his twitching member against my thigh. I take him in one hand and he jerks against it, his hands move to my shoulders where he buries his face in, I lean my head against his chest where I can finally see him.

He’s larger than I had imagined, it’s pink and hard, the sight of it sends another rush through my core. I watch myself jerk his member, and now Simon is the one panting on me. He’s kissing my neck which has me moving faster, which pulls a moan from him. The sound vibrates next to my ear and I tug a little harder a couple more times before bringing my hands to his shoulder and going to push him down.

This time he allows me to, I take a moment to admire him and he’s laying down. There is a rush of power I feel having him naked under me, watching him breath heavily and watch me with his own glazed eyes.

I position myself between his own legs and continue to touch him, his eyes are closed and it gives me the courage to lean down to him, at first it’s just a lick and the reaction is immediate. His hips jerk and he moans, the loudest one I’ve heard from him, his eyes are wide as he watches me continue to take him into my mouth. He tastes slightly salty, I can feel him twitch in my mouth and hear him make moan after moan. It doesn’t take long before he's saying my name, I lean back to watch him as I continue on him with my hand. When he comes undone he moans my name and spurts onto my hand and his own stomach.

I watch him catch his breath, and attempt to catch my own. When he opens his eyes again that fond look has returned on his face, a look that is reserved for me. Not even Janae gets this, just me. I crawl back up the bed and lay on my side next to him.

“Are you okay?” He asks, I smile at him.

“I’m great.” He smiles back.

“Oh, so I’m great?” He says, I roll my eyes and laugh at him.

“Don’t get too full of yourself mister.”

#simon kelleher #simon kelleher x reader #mark mckenna #one of us is lying #maeve rojas #janae matthews #simon kelleher smut

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empresskadia · 8 months ago

Note

A♤ 8♧ 8♤ A♧ - Final revision. Chasing perfection when I am writing without a destination. It's what I get for starting something without any plans and burning the bridge when I get there.

Part IV (Heartwarming to see Part III be so loved by you all. This might be the worst part I make because I'm taking a risk writing this one from your perspective instead. It also went under several revisions every time I thought I finished it. Also, there's a little hint there in the symbols I used here.)

Stars.

As a child, looking up to the night sky away from the expectations of home was the one thing that brought you peace. In that infinite black void, that never-ending sea of ink dotted by light, there was something more. Something more than the path chosen for you. There had to be, right? Space was so incomprehensibly vast, and you were once determined to see it when you were free to spread your wings.

At home, what was expected of you mattered more than you. Your own dreams, your own desires and goals, whatever they could have been, didn't matter. Everything you did was so you could join the UNSC, whether you wanted to or not. You needed to be perfect so you could go to OCS at Corbulo like your great-grandfather. You needed to be top of your class like your mother. You needed to be a fearless, unflinching leader like your father. You needed to be an officer like your Uncle Forge. You were expected to be so much, but were never expected to just be a kid.

Like a bird in a cage, you had everything provided to you. You wanted for nothing. But you weren't free. Even surrounded by family, you grew up alone. So, you would sneak out after curfew and look up at the night sky and dream of who you could be. It was looking up into that shapeless ocean where you were determined you would one day seize the reins of your life. For better or for worse, your fate would be your own.

Then Arcadia was attacked, and you were left all alone.

The cage was gone, but so was everything you had ever known. Your parents, your siblings, your home, everything you had ever lived and loved - all gone, violently taken away in a flash of plasma and a burst of blood. They did not grow older. Yet you were still here. With a heart full of vengeance and a hole in the shape of your family in your soul.

Who decides such things?

From that loss, the stars no longer held that beauty. Invaders had come from the stars, and they had demanded Humanity's extinction, and space was the battlefield. What had once brought you peace had brought war to your doorstep. What had once brought you comfort drove you to enlist. Ironic, you thought, that the fate your parents wanted was the one you would choose when you had nothing.

With enlistment came new responsibilities and the same mastery of your emotions your parents drilled into you. The same expectations that your family forced upon you were expected by the UNSC, and it found you unworthy. So you hid. Locked yourself away, forbid yourself from forming attachments to your troops, or you wouldn't be capable of leading them effectively. You forgot yourself in the service of others, never gave yourself the time of day. In truth, you gave up on who you truly were.

Which brought you here. Gunnery Sergeant Y/N L/N. Youngest to make the rank, top of your class at Reach Naval Academy, and a lovestruck fool.

It's funny. You never believed you could fall for someone.

Some would say love is a part of being human, and perhaps they were right, but it was only something you had ever observed. Your parents, as flawed as they were, deeply loved each other, and you've kept your fair share of relationships secret during your time in the military. But when it came to you, after so long in the service, romance was just never in your cards.

How could you love someone when war is all you've known for so long? Who would love you? It was easier to say that you never had time for romantic feeling, that you knew nothing of it to begin with, but it was harder to admit that, deep down, you didn't feel yourself worthy of it.

Then Naomi was assigned to your command. The Spartan-II with a golden soul and depth of humanity hidden behind a suit of armor and a childhood of military training.

She had given you the privilege to be her friend, allowed you to see beneath the Mjolnir to the person inside. In turn, she allowed you to let go and not hide behind a mask. Allowed you to be the person you buried behind rank, military protocols, and ODST BDUs. Never have you known someone so reliable, so dependable, on and off the battlefield. She had given you a reason to try and love the stars again.

You loved her. You were sure of it. If the happiness you felt near her that made your heart feel weightless wasn't love, then what was?

Which was why you were here, in the most secluded part of the ship staring out to the stars. Trying to reclaim what the Covenant took from you. Trying to be human in spite of all you've lost so you could see what you've gained. Through adversity, you would rise to the stars.

"Enjoying the view?"

How Spartan-IIs managed to be so silent with that armor was a mystery. At least, you assumed they were if Naomi-010 was the example to go by. It stopped making you jump after the first month or so.

You grinned, though maybe it was forced. "Trying to. Maybe one day I can appreciate it again."

"I wondered where you were." She said as she stopped next to you, her visor reflecting the starlight outside the viewport. "I didn't see you at the mess hall."

You gave her a small apologetic smile. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I just completely lost track of the time. Anything good in the mess?"

"Nothing to write home about."

"Oh, good. Did I miss anything fun?"

Naomi huffed. "Dunn tried to arm wrestle me again."

"Again? Did you win?"

She hummed, flexing her bicep. "Was it ever a question?"

You chuckled. "A strong woman like you? Not for a second."

You paused, allowing a comfortable silence to fall before you managed the courage to finally say what you had always needed to.

"Thank you."

The Spartan-II tilted her head. "What for?"

"For being here. For being my friend." Your hand knocked against hers. "For helping me to start believing in myself again."

Her fingers weaved between yours, gently squeezing. How her hand managed to be so warm in yours through the skin of her suit puzzled you.

"But you did that yourself."

"You gave me the strength to try." You looked at her like she hung the stars in the night sky. "So, thank you, Naomi. For everything."

The Spartan traced soothing circles on the top of your palm with her thumb. "You know, I was thinking about what you said last week. About the dinner."

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

"No, I want to! I just-" She paused, shifting her feet. "I just don't know how we would do this."

"I don't either." You smiled. "I've never been on a date before."

"Oh." She stiffened, and you could feel it through her hand that she had froze. "So, it's a date now?"

"Only-" You stuttered, coughing to hide it. "Only if you want it to be."

Naomi pulled her hand from yours, and for a moment, you wondered if you crossed the line. Until she used the same hand to turn your head towards her, cupping your cheek. Her thumb gently patted your cheekbone.

"I'd love that, Y/N."

"That's great!" You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, the biggest smile in your life threatening to split your face in two. "I'm going to be honest with you, I have no idea how to cook."

"Oh, I know." She teased. "I've seen you burn your field rations."

"I'll figure something out then and let you know when it's time?"

"Sounds perfect." Her hand withdrew from your face and you missed the warmth immediately. "I'd love to stay, but I've got to run some maintenance on my armor. Going to be a little harder now that I'll be thinking of you."

You blushed at her straightforwardness. "I'll see you around?"

"Always."

Naomi turned to leave, her footsteps audible this time before they paused.

"Oh, and Y/N?"

You turned to her, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

You could tell she winked at you from beneath her helmet. "Don't keep a girl waiting."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

You laughed to yourself as she walked away, leaning your head against the viewport glass as you were left alone with the stars. A soft tap against it brought your mind clarity. "Oh, Y/N." You whispered as your heart raced." You're a damn fool."

Thank you for being patient with me <3

Don't worry about chasing perfection, your readers appreciate your dedication and heart in every part you create with this story, you've got this!!

I've been so excited to read part IV and it took all my willpower to wait till I could type up my comments and thoughts. But here we go~

Backstory for the reader?? What chosen path? I love the tie in with space right off the bat!!!

I’m screaming about this because omg do I relate with Raya being in the same boat as the reader

You were expected to be so much, but were never expected to just be a kid.

insert sad face

Then Arcadia was attacked, and you were left all alone.

I- Excuse?? My heart just broke

you thought, that the fate your parents wanted was the one you would choose when you had nothing.

The irony of this happening though, the parents got their wish at what expense.

So you hid. Locked yourself away, forbid yourself from forming attachments to your troops, or you wouldn't be capable of leading them effectively.

I can only imagine the amount of people the reader saw die and how many troops they lost

Which brought you here. Gunnery Sergeant Y/N L/N. Youngest to make the rank, top of your class at Reach Naval Academy, and a lovestruck fool.

GOOD BE A LOVESTUCK FOOL. We are infact bad bitches.

It's funny. You never believed you could fall for someone.

And it was for the Spartan who deserves all the love <3333

you've kept your fair share of relationships secret during your time in the military.

Oh the drama, but yeah I like this little fact.

But when it came to you, after so long in the service, romance was just never in your cards.

LE GASP THE CARD CONNECTIONS

How could you love someone when war is all you've known for so long? Who would love you?

The person who also doesn’t think they capable of love. Oh, how tragic it is to love a Spartan

Then Naomi was assigned to your command. The Spartan-II with a golden soul and depth of humanity hidden behind a suit of armor and a childhood of military training.

*Screaming*

She had given you a reason to try and love the stars again.

Naomi loves the stars too *sobbing*

You loved her. You were sure of it. If the happiness you felt near her that made your heart feel weightless wasn't love, then what was?

I wish I could express the absolute sounds of excitement I’m making but I’m kicking my feet

How Spartan-IIs managed to be so silent with that armor was a mystery. At least, you assumed they were if Naomi-010 was the example to go by.

Oooo so Naomi is the only Spartan they’ve met

"I wondered where you were." She said as she stopped next to you, her visor reflecting the starlight outside the viewport. "I didn't see you at the mess hall."

Dfvujsvkjhn bbygirl came looking for us!?

She hummed, flexing her bicep. "Was it ever a question?"

She’s funny, I love her. Look at Naomi being kinda human

"But you did that yourself."

I feel like Naomi is your own personal cheerleader

"You gave me the strength to try." You looked at her like she hung the stars in the night sky. "So, thank you, Naomi. For everything."

I hate that this feels like a goodbye and I’m scared.

"Oh." She stiffened, and you could feel it through her hand that she had froze. "So, it's a date now?"

Dude shut up, I’m screaming!! They are dorks in love

THE GASP THAT JUST COME OUT, SCREAMING, CRYING, CHOCKING, THROWING UP

"I'd love that, Y/N."

Fcvsjdncebfc. Good. I’m so normal about this

You blushed at her straightforwardness. "I'll see you around?"

"Always."

Bbygirl always has her partner’s back

You could tell she winked at you from beneath her helmet. "Don't keep a girl waiting."

SCREAMING, SHE’S BEING ALITTLE FLIRT

A soft tap against it brought your mind clarity. "Oh, Y/N." You whispered as your heart raced." You're a damn fool."

ME AND YOU BOTH, OMG.

I just want you to know I bite my lip so hard that I split it :)))

I’m loving the direction this is going!! I’m excited to see how their date goes but also see how their relationship develops with the war and everything.

#Screaming in the distance #I love love love #so very much #halo #halo x reader #halo series #naomi 010 #naomi 010 x reader

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estatedekho26 · 3 months ago

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Apartments for sale in financial district Hyderabad

Discovering Your Dream Home: 2 BHK, 3 BHK, and 4 BHK Apartments in Financial District, Hyderabad

When you think of Hyderabad, chances are you imagine its bustling IT hubs, mouth-watering biryanis, and of course, its ever-expanding real estate sector. But if you're on the hunt for that perfect apartment whether it's a cozy 2 BHK, a spacious 3 BHK, or a luxurious 4 BHK there's one place that stands out: the Financial District.

Let’s take a friendly stroll (or maybe a virtual one) through why apartments in the Financial District, Hyderabad, are the talk of the town. I’ll even throw in some fun anecdotes and humor, because hey, house hunting doesn't have to be all serious!

Why the Financial District?

I could start by rattling off all the numbers, growth stats, and impressive development plans for the Financial District, but let's be honest who hasn't heard of it? Home to companies like Microsoft, Amazon, and Infosys, this area is a dream for anyone who wants to live close to their workplace and cut down on those agonizing traffic jams (because, let’s face it, in Hyderabad, traffic has its own fanbase).

But beyond its techie charm, the Financial District is packed with conveniences: shopping centers, schools, hospitals, parks, and yes, even a few secret dosa spots. If you’re tired of battling long commutes and want everything at your doorstep, you’re in the right place.

What Exactly is a 2 BHK, 3 BHK, and 4 BHK?

Alright, let's break this down. I mean, why settle for cryptic real estate jargon?

2 BHK: Two bedrooms, a hall (living room), and a kitchen. Perfect if you’ve recently graduated from the ‘renting’ phase of life or want a place cozy enough to avoid housing unwanted guests because yes, extra space can sometimes lead to "Oh, we’ll just stay with you for a month!"

3 BHK: Three bedrooms, a hall, and a kitchen. Great for growing families, or if you want to keep a room just for your Netflix binges (without judgment, of course).

4 BHK: Four bedrooms. It’s the real deal. If you’ve reached a point in life where you want space for an office, a gym, a reading room, AND a room just for your shoes, the 4 BHK is calling your name.

Why Should You Consider a 2 BHK in Financial District?

For starters, if you’re a first-time homebuyer or someone who values simplicity and efficiency, 2 BHK apartments in Financial District are ideal. You get the luxury of living in one of the city’s most prestigious locations without feeling like your home is too big to manage.

Pros of a 2 BHK Apartment

Affordability: A 2 BHK in this area is like finding a diamond in your grandmother’s attic, rare, precious, and totally worth it.

Low Maintenance: Less space means fewer corners to clean. So, if housework isn't your favorite hobby, this one’s for you.

Cosy and Comfy: Small families or young couples love 2 BHK apartments because they’re just the right size—big enough to move around in, but not so big that you feel lost in your own home.

Pro Tip: Look for 2 BHKs in high-rise buildings, as they often come with fantastic views of the city’s skyline. Nothing beats sipping your morning chai with a killer view.

Is a 3 BHK the Sweet Spot?

Many argue that 3 BHK apartments in Financial District hit the sweet spot for most buyers. They’re perfect if you want a balance of space, comfort, and luxury without going overboard. Personally, I think a 3 BHK is like having an ice cream sundae with just the right amount of toppings, not too little, not too much. Goldilocks would approve.

Why Opt for a 3 BHK?

Extra Space: Whether you need a home office (because let’s be real, WFH isn’t going anywhere), a guest room for in-laws, or an additional playroom for your kids, a 3 BHK gives you flexibility.

Resale Value: Investing in a 3 BHK is like buying a well-aged wine; it only gets better with time. The resale value tends to hold up well in growing markets like the Financial District.

Future-Proofing: Planning to expand your family? Or maybe you just want that extra room for when inspiration strikes, and you decide to take up painting. Either way, the extra space is always a good idea.

Living the High Life: 4 BHK Apartments in Financial District

Okay, let's get to the grand finale: the 4 BHK apartments in Financial District. Now we’re talking luxury, comfort, and an abundance of space. I once had a friend who lived in a 4 BHK, and let me tell you, getting from one room to the other was like running a mini marathon.

But jokes aside, 4 BHKs are for those who’ve reached that point in life where you want all the space you can get. Think of it as having your cake and eating it too and maybe keeping a few slices for later.

Why Go for a 4 BHK?

Luxury Redefined: A 4 BHK is not just a home; it's a statement. It says, "I’ve made it, and now I want to live comfortably." And hey, you deserve it!

Versatility: The sheer number of rooms means you can use them however you please: a gym, a mini library, a game room, or maybe even a yoga studio. The possibilities are endless.

Perfect for Big Families: If you’ve got a large family, a 4 BHK ensures that everyone has their own space (and maybe a little peace and quiet too).

Comparing 2 BHK, 3 BHK, and 4 BHK Apartments in Financial District

Feature

2 BHK

3 BHK

4 BHK

Space

Compact, efficient

Spacious, ideal for families

Expansive, luxury living

Affordability

Most affordable

Mid-range

High-end

Maintenance

Easy to maintain

Moderate upkeep

Requires regular upkeep

Flexibility

Limited

Good for growing families

Perfect for versatile living

Resale Value

Steady

Excellent

High, especially in prime areas

Best For

Young couples, small families

Growing families, professionals

Large families, luxury seekers

Final Thoughts: Finding Your Perfect Home

The Financial District in Hyderabad offers some of the best options for homebuyers, whether you're in the market for a 2 BHK, 3 BHK, or 4 BHK. It’s not just about the size of the apartment but the lifestyle that comes with it. From excellent connectivity to top-notch amenities, living in this area means embracing a modern, convenient, and vibrant way of life.

So, what’s it going to be? A cozy 2 BHK to call your own, a versatile 3 BHK for the growing family, or a luxurious 4 BHK where you can truly spread out and live your best life? Whatever you choose, one thing’s for sure you’ll never regret investing in the Financial District.

And remember, even if house hunting gets stressful, there’s always a good dosa joint nearby to help you refuel!

Visit estatedekho.com for more information about 2 BHK, 3 BHK, 4 BHK Apartments for Sale in Financial District Hyderabad. Estatedekho is an online platform that offers sellers, potential clients, buyers verified plots, and professional agents at service.

#flatsforsaleinfinancialdistrict #flatsinfinancialdistrict #financialdistrictapartments #hyderabadflats

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rviner · 3 months ago

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Name: Odessa Kashirsky

Age & Birthday: 30 years old, Jan 10th

Gender/Pronouns: cis woman she/her

Birthplace: Red Horizon Station

Current Residence: Equinox

Job/Role on The Station: Admin at Vanguard Security

Positive personality traits: resilient, loyal, brave, practical,

Negative personality traits: secretive, petty, disturbed, intense

ABOUT

Odessa was born during the final days of Red Horizon, a space station that had once been a powerful innovator of tech. It had spiraled into decline by the time of her birth. The station's infrastructure crumbled and the government grew increasingly corrupt and oppressive.

Odessa grew up in the shadow of a once-great society, with food shortages, power outages, and constant surveillance shaping her formative years. Her parents, though still clinging to memories of Red Horizon's former glory, struggled to provide for her in a world that seemed to offer nothing but hardship.

When Odessa was 29, Red Horizon's neglected life support systems finally failed, sparking a mass evacuation. The once idealistic station had long since become a crumbling ruin, and now, even basic survival was no longer possible. The evacuation was a chaotic and devastating event, with families torn apart, ships overcrowded, and resources scarce. Odessa was among the lucky ones who managed to secure passage off the dying station, though the experience left her deeply scarred. She lost friends and her parents in the chaos.

Odessa managed to safely reach the main station, 45 million kms from her home. She was set to be granted refuge in The Wards but an officer in Vanguard helped her. Beckett Rhodes ensured her safety on Equinox, helping her find somewhere to live and also secured her employment at a bar where she sang.

However, the two lost contact for a few months and ever since, Odessa has wondered where she could find or see Beckett again. Mainly to think him for his help, and because she could see there was a slight lonliness in his eyes that she couldn't explain.

She has just began her new job in Vanguard Security as admin and front desk, hoping that their paths might cross again.

CONNECTION IDEAS:

Odessa can uncover something at Vanguard, involving other characters or something that threatens them. She can start working with them or there be tension because they could be people she doesn't like or take to immediately, so she doesn't really wanna help and she's petty LOL

Maybe she still sings at bars sometimes and overhears something she shouldn't have, even better if it's politicians but doesn't have to be.

She sometimes helps TPC, or feels obligated to because they helped her when she first arrived on the station. She could inadvertently start relaying information about vanguard to them, putting herself at risk. She could even double cross them, like giving a tip off about a protest they plan because she got scared :(

#intro.odessa

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darkmajesty-xo · 2 years ago

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18+ MDNI| tw! ProHero TodoDeku, Assistant! Reader, Age Gap Suggestive

a/n : this is an unedited poorly written thot that i had for christmastime, neglected it then thought to release it for icythots birthday. i'm sorry my love you deserve better but maybe someone will like it !

midoriya is awful at hiding things.

snacks, secrets, feelings and especially presents. so, naturally birthdays are very stressful for him.

he tries his best each year but no matter how creative he thinks he is, his boyfriend always stumbles upon his hiding spots. it can get really frustrsting at times, and even though shoto says that it's okay and still pretends to be surprised with whatever allmight related collectable he gets him-- deku still wants to get this right!

so this year he had the bright idea of leaving the wrapped gift in his office drawer until the big day. midoriya is often up and out of the house by 5am for his morning jog and workout, with his bestfriend kacchan, while shoto sleeps in. however, since it's a "holiday" deku would forgo the gym sesh and drive over to their joined agency like a sneaky little elf.

it's honestly the perfect plan and he doesn't know why he didn't think of it sooner.

izuku was proudly mumbling to himself as he stepped off the elevator and into the office space when he noticed you sitting at your desk in the lobby. you'd been his and shoto's assistant for about a year now; a quirkless college grad with great references and eager to please. both men would describe you as a literal godsend-- single handedly organizing and restructuring the business aspects of their very chaotic agency.

don't judge the man, it's tough being the "on again off again" number one and japan's new "symbol of hope".

between keeping civilians safe and battling it out on the charts with kacchan every other week, he doesn't have time for paperwork and protocol. shoto, who sits comfortably at number 3, simply ignores paperwork and waits for somebody else to do it.

all of that to say that you were a super hardworking and valued employee but it still doesn't explain why you'd be at the office this early on the weekend.

"goodmorning, y/n".

you must not've heard the ding of the elevator because the sound of his voice startled you into spilling the contents of your mug all all over your keyboard.

"shit. shit. shit." you scrambled to blot the mess with your cardigan sleeves, shaking your head and worrying at your lips. deku was slightly amused. not because you'd spilled something but because he'd never heard you use profanities before. you were normally very reserved and meek. your submissiveness was something that he'd spoken about to you in the past because he felt like some of the sidekicks were taking advantage of your kindness. if deku had to list one toxic trait about you, it'd probably be that you were an extreme people pleaser. even moreso than him, and that's saying something.

"are you okay? i hope you didn't burn yourself".

you sighed, defeated, allowing yourself to glance at the annoying intruder only to be met with sparkling gemstone eyes and a soft smile. time has been well on midoriya. even with the slight crinkles by his eye and streaks of gray peppering his emerald green mop, he still looked as youthful as ever. the same deku that stole the hearts of many all those years ago- just a few more scars on his warlorn body and a softer layer to his midsection. but he looked great! if anything that extra thickness on his tummy only emphasized his mouthwatering biceps and juicy juicy thighs. he could probably crack your head open with those things.

"hey, sweetheart. are you okay?" he was closer now, the minty aroma of his cologne flowing into your space. your cheeks burned. here you were lusting over one of your very taken bosses, yet again.

"mr.deku! im fine, im fine. you just startled me is all" you breathed, brushing a stray loc away from your face. deku hummed, seemingly evaluating your strange reaction but choosing not to comment.

"why aren't you at home with your family? i could've sworn we gave all the administrative staff the day off".

"well i don't really have a family or anybody waiting for me, so i figured that i could get some work done. crime doesn't stop on the weekends" you shrugged. that didn't sit well with deku. he couldn't imagine you spending the day holed up in his agency.

"why don't you come home with me"?

it was hard not to laugh at the way your eyes widened. your mouth opening and closing in shock. it was so easy to fluster you. deku didn't know if it was due to your age or if you were just that innocent. he liked that. its perverted, he knows, but the thought of you on your knees staring up at him all doe eyed lived rent free in his mind.

"ouch, i didnt know that i was such bad company" he teased, just to get a rise out of you. and of course you took the bait. rushing to apologize. clarifying that you didn't want to be a bother. insisting that he haad much better things to do than babysit you. but deku wouldn't be deku if he took "no" for an answer, and that's how you wound up in your employer's kitchen watching him struggle to decide what he'd be preparing for his lover's birthday brunch. it was something that his friends did every year for eachother and he offered to host this time but there was one small problem…

deku can't cook.

sure he has the funds to hire a catering service but that seemed so impersonal. he wanted something that came from the heart! but after a couple tik tok videos and several pancakes on the floor- he started to rethink that decision. he then heard the little giggles coming from your direction. he turned towards you with a raised brow and you quickly put both hands on your mouth in response.

"what's so funny, little girl ?" he pointed his batter covered spatula towards you, only to get some on his freckled cheek. you laughed even harder this time, grabbing for your phone to take a picture. he liked seeing you like this, all free and relaxed.

"y'know i didn't see "bully" listed on your resume" he joked, pouting while dramatically turning his back to you. "don't expect a good reference letter from me when you go seek out greener pastures".

"oh please" you snorted, rising from your stool to join him at the stove. "where would i find something greener than your hair, mr. deku?" you teased, bumping him aside with your hip to grab the bowl of batter, "besides i'd never leave the two of you". it grew silent; the only sound being the sizzle of the batter hitting the pan. for a moment you thought you'd overstepped and began raking through your mind for save but the hero mimicked your earlier action-- softly bumping your hip to catch your attention. with flushed cheeks he smiled down at you making heat bloom witin your own cheeks.

"the feelings mutual, sweetheart".

after about two hours of cooking, with deku insisting on "mandatory snack breaks", the two of you had accomplished decenrt brunch spread with a fusion of japanese and american cuisine.

the two of were giggling over a pot of kenchinjiru when shoto sleepily shuffled into the kitchen. it was a welcomed sight to wake up to you and izuku being so cozy. he leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, just admiring how well you fit with his partner, how comfortable you both seemed. he could've watched you all morning, had izuku not looked over his shoulder.

"oh! hey, sho. look at what i found" izuku chirped, happily petting you on top of the head. "izuku--" you whined shyly, glancing at the heterochromatic hero.

even fresh out of bed, shoto looked absolutely stunning. his silky strands were parted down the middle, falling loosely against his tailbone. his beautifull sculpted face held no imperfections, save for his iconic scar. however, his body told a different story. standing bare, in only his boxers, you could see battle scars littered against his pale flesh-- weaving against one another like the intricate lines of a tattoo. he'd always maintained a slimmer physique than deku, showcasing a smaller waist and chiseled abs lightly dusted with a bicolored happy trail that led to his scantily clad lower regions. the sight of shoto todoroki in nothing but his skin tight boxer briefs was mouth-watered. you eyes wandered a bit longer and lower than thet should've and the icy hot hero definitely took notice.

eyes locked on your own, sauntered towards the two of you and pulled izuku into a steamy kiss. the greenette was shocked, especially when his partner's hands dropped to grip his ass. he leaned into the other man's touch, moaning softly with each swipe of his tongue. you were as still as a statue, drinking in this erotic display of passion. yes, you'd seen them kiss around the agenc before but it was never more than a light peck. this was soft porn.

"goodmorning, baby" shoto whispered against izuku's lips. kissing him softly once more before pulling away and turning towards you. you didnt know what to expect but it surely wasn't him pulling you flush against his body, big hands resting on your hips while nuzzling his cheek against your own.

"what a nice surprise".

his voice was still husky with sleep and it tickled your skin. he pulled back slightly to get a better look at you. big bright eyes, rich skin and soft curves. the last thing he epected to wake up to was you in his arms, but its not like he's complaining. it's no secret that shoto fancies you. the only person unaware of his crush was you.

for the sake of decorum and professionality, in addition to his long-term relationship, he'd refrained asking you out directly. you were the best assistant they'd had and both men could tell that you were shy, so he would've hated to scare you off. he kept his efforts subtle. one time you mentioned how sweet you thought it was that him and izuku left eachother cute encouraging messages on their desks throughout the day, so he started leaving you cute little notes as well.

"you're doing great".

"i'm so happy you're here".

"you're the perfect little helper".

"you smell nice"

you didn't get the last one, it was intercepted by izuku who felt like it was borderline creepy. he didn't have any problems with shoto's crush/obsession with you; he actually encouraged ti, especially in the bedroom. but there was a time and a place for everything.

the two of you had been staring at eachother for a while when deku's voice brough you back to reality.

"do you mind excusing us for a second, love ? i'm sure you dont want to see this old man in his undies" Izuku giggled, while nudging his partner.

"she doesn't seem to min-

"shoto! bedroom, now."

the two men left you to your simmering soup, and thoughts while they trekked to their upstairs bedroom.

"you've really outdone yourself , izu" shoto began, "i was expecing another allmight figurine, not a threesome".

"shoto, baby, you gotta relax sometimes" izuku sighed. he searched through the drawers looking for a pair of shoto's sweat then threw them at the other man's head. "i saw her at the office this morning and invited her over because aparrently she's all alone. she just thinks she's here for your birthday brunch and has no idea about your little obession with her".

"MY 'little obession' ? wasn't it just last night that you begged me to fuck you like i'd fuck her ?"

Izuku ran his figners through his hair trying to ignore the emerging stiffness between his thighs from the memory.

"i- i will admit that i am attracted to her and after spending time with her this morning i can admit that i do like her BUT i am not the one that purposely gets hurt on patrol so that she'll fuss over me, and i'm definitely not the one that calls her for literally everything just so i can jerk off to her voice over the phone, am i ?"

"i will neither confirm nor deny those statements".

"exactly" izuku rolled his eyes, "m'gonna go check on her, k?"

"don't eat without me" shoto smirked.

"perv" izuku muttered, but winked back at his handsome boyfriend. he opened the door and there you stood wide-eyed with your hand over your mouth.

his eye twitched. they'd just been busted discussing you in a very lewd manner. he was just about to apologize but you did it first

"i'm so so sorry, mr deku. i didnt mean to listen, i just wanted to tell mr shoto 'happy birthday' but then i heard you talking and i didnt know what to do because i have been in love with the two of you since i started working and i never imagined--

izuku interrupted your ramblings with a soft kiss and gestured to shoto who was already sitting on the bed, cock in hand.

"how about we make it a very happy birthday, love ?"

#happy birthday shoto #i love you babe #todoroki x black reader #deku x black reader #todoroki x chubby reader #Deku #mha deku #izuku midoryia smut #tododeku

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poisonheadcrabsalesman · 3 years ago

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Uncharted Waters

Soaring through slipspace brought a strange sense of peace to Roland's matrix.

All the calculations were done, systems checked and double-checked, and the crew safe, secured, and cared for filled him with satisfaction, and some boredom. Maybe something else was tugging at the threads of him, tangling his processes into knots as he worked alongside them.

They were still more than 24 hours away from their destination and the Infinity was in the quiet lull before the next mission. The biosigns of his charges were a calm ocean, small waves ebbing and flowing as they milled about and settled. Rest washed over his humans like rough, choppy water; the campaign had left everyone uneasy, but now the quiet was settling slowly until the biometrics blinking at him reflected back like glass-smooth water.

Turning his eyes towards a couple of them, Roland began checking on some of his particular favorites, not that he would ever tell. Well, maybe Miller, if he was feeling uppity. But the new water he was treading with his humans had him feeling lost and giddy all at once. Uncharted space for an AI, even if he had some holdovers from his engram donor. Feelings springing forth, bubbling up and flowing over his matrix, terrifyingly powerful and refreshing. Lifebringing.

Checking on his captain, he finds that Lasky has fallen asleep at his desk, again.

Roland appears on the holodisk next to him, a swirl of pixels forming into a pilot with his hands on his hips, peering down at Lasky's sleep-lined face. Dimming the lights off the office to a soft glow, Roland took a moment to take in all the small details. Data to crystallize and keep tucked away, something secret and cherished and held close.

Lasky looked calm as he slept, the usual furrow of his brow smoothed in sleep, and his biosigns read as calm and easy, a peaceful river compared to the rushing waters they become during battle. Light snores bring a smile to Roland's avatar as different parts of him check the captain’s schedule, adjust the room’s ambient temperature, and silence noisy, low priority messages. Lasky shifts in his sleep, eyes flitting beneath heavy lids with dark circles forming around them and the concern rises in Roland’s being.

Requiem had taken a lot from them, and even before then the pressure was weighing on Captain Lasky. Roland had only come aboard a few months into his captaincy and now less than a handful of months later he was being dragged back to Earth to report. Lasky was a great captain and a good man, but the higher-ups might see what they want and what better scapegoat than the Infinity.

Even with such little data, Roland was seeing a pattern form for his ship and crew. Humanity’s finest vessel to date, its protector and punching bag, had a rough history and even rougher future it seemed, if the missions were going to continue like this.

Captain Lasky’s hand rests near the holo, barely touching the humming tech as it displays his avatar. Too much of Roland’s focus is suddenly fixated on that one small detail, and the rising tide within him threatens his fine webs and threads and order. Human based volitional artificial intelligence are in fact, volitional and not. Such a particular word that they chose to classify his kind as. Free will, yes perhaps the will to make choices, considerations, plans, schemes, machinations, calculations, etc. But not volitional in the sense of voluntary. He was chosen, he did not choose. He was made, his birth, a twisted rebirth, a ghost in the machine, if he’s trying to be clever; he’s born of electricity and silicone and the dying imprint of human neural net. And despite it all he would choose them all again, he would volunteer, he would do anything for his crew, for his captain, because he wants.

Beyond the built-in desire to learn and catalogue, Roland feels. It’s a tide, rising over his head, unstoppable, and it crashes down and rushes through him, rushes through each and every circuit he occupies in this 3 mile long ship. It’s too much and not enough and indescribable. He focuses on his captain’s sleeping form and the lone human hand mere centimeters from his avatar. And he wants so badly he believes his circuits will fry if he thinks about it for too long.

The love of ancient aircraft isn't the only thing he got from his engram donor. That donated brain gave him something rare and treasured, a sensation he hadn't told anyone about, but held dear and secret. The memory of a hand in his, warmth and pressure as it was held close and tight.

It's why his avatar doesn't have gloves.

So when he reaches out, not quite touching, not daring to shatter the illusion, he simply remembers that warmth and all the warmth he’s felt in his captain’s presence. A million moments blooming from within his memory, his ship, his crew, his captain.

He checks Lasky's biosigns and they still show him in REM sleep, deep in dreams. Roland can’t help but wonder what Lasky's dreams look like or if he’ll ever experience them. Maybe when he’s older. His amber glow dims and settles over the captain's sleeping form.

Roland moves to sit, crossing his legs as he hovers so close to the captain’s hand. He checks that his volume is at a decibel level that humans can't hear before he starts to ramble.

He's found it's a good way to practice what he wants to say.

"You know, I think I have this all wrong. You’re really the lucky ones. You and Commander Palmer and the rest of the crew, Miller especially. You snagged a super-genius AI, while I got the most self-sacrificing, messy, complicated, stubborn-headed humans around.” He sighs and rests his chin in his hand, some cameras eyeing the still sleeping form of his captain while others check in on all the parts of him, hangars, mess halls, rec rooms, barracks. “Mmmmaybe not counting when the Master Chief is onboard. "

“If I could get gray hair I would from all the stress you put me through, but you’d never see it huh? It’d help if you would remember to eat more, maybe actually try delegating once in a while.”

"I know that this is all so much and you're busy, but I couldn't be happier with my service assignment. I -"

Numbers flow through him, calculations and history, human and alien, code and humanity. He could say it in a thousand different languages, but not tonight.

Not directly, but soon.

"Sleep well, Captain."

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

Thanks for reading! If you like what I do, check out my writing tag or if you want, send me a ko-fi and a request!

#Roland the ai #Thomas Lasky #halo fanfic #my writing #ai tag #Roland #Lasky #interpret this as you will #this is not a halo blog

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generallybrontidefeelings · 4 years ago

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Stressed

Rating: NC-17

A/N: Brought to you by this post. I'm tired and sleepy and don't want to make any decisions. The degree is an actual MS you can get from American University in DC. U of Tennessee’s anthropology dept. hosts what’s called a body farm. It's a lab for forensic pathology students. Do NOT I repeat DO NOT look up pictures.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader, Marcus Pike x you

Summary: Marcus Pike is an associate faculty member at your forensics college. You ask him to be your second reader for your thesis, even though you have a huge crush on him. Nothing is better than something, right? By the time you pass your exam, you're so pent up you could scream.

Warnings: cadaver talk, pining, age difference, some power dynamics?, annoying college talk, sex, dirty talk, a God awful metaphor curtesy of Blanche Devereaux, 39

“Take a deep breath.”

You huff in a small shallow breath. Then let it out, and take in a longer, fuller one.

“Now let it out.” You let your cheeks puff up as cool air streams past your lips. “You’ve made huge improvements, and you’ve studied hard. The paper exam will be easy, and the oral will be a cinch.”

You gulp. “I know. It’s just...pre-show jitters, you know?”

He gives you a full smile, and flips the document shut. You hand him the binder clip, accidentally brushing his fingers when you do.

"Anything else I can do for you?"

You swallow, fiddling with your paper edge. God you feel like a twelve year old. You're fucking twenty-seven and about to apply for the FBI, why are you such a sap? He’s not available. Not even remotely. He will be gone in a year, back to the Bureau. There is no reason to nurse a crush. And you curse yourself for asking a man you’re attracted to - you, idiot, idiot! - to spend more time with you. Even if it is reading your dull chapter.

"No, I have everything I need, thanks."

"Then scoot. I have to read like...thirty pages of Tanner's chapter before he gets here."

You pull your bag to your shoulder. "you're not going to get that far," you scoff. The tensing in your shoulders relaxes a little when you stand to leave.

"We'll see," he says. He opens the door of his office for you. You glance back once more, and he's still in the doorway watching you go. "See you tomorrow."

"See you." Your mind swirls back and forth between thoughts of Mr. Pike, your thesis, Pike, your oral defence, your paper exam in two days, Marcus crossing his ankles in his reading chair. And you walk. Straight ahead, not looking back. But when you get to the door handle you turn around. And he's still there. Watching.

You've never been so stressed in your life.

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You met Marcus Pike on a muggy afternoon in August deep in the heart of Tennessee. The air warped off the pavement as you drove together to the School of Anthropology to visit your cadaver lying relaxed and prostrate in the middle of a fenced field. The air is already warm, then lightning flashes in the clouds to your right, and plopping rain drops scatter across the lawn, and dampens A-0017’s second hand suit. His raisinette hands lie against the grass almost like he’s communing with the earth. You watched the water hit his face, and permanently closed eyelids, and shaved head.

You had no business being so fidgety while kneeling next to a cadaver. Agent Marcus Pike and the facility director chat a couple feet away, leaving you to your business with A-0017. Pike had never been to the school’s mysterious forensics lab, even though he had plenty of time to when he was earning his own masters. That’s what he said in his email to you three weeks earlier. He’d heard a first-year student was running a fibrous material experiment and asked to tag along. And you said yes. Why not? He was faculty. It wasn’t unheard of. His email was so polite too, letting you know if you weren’t comfortable he understood. Pike. The name rattled a memory somewhere. So you emailed him back, and the next morning he sent you his itinerary: he would meet you in Tennessee. He’d even pay for the rental car.

You sent your advisor a quick text to ask if he was ‘crazy.’ She’d sent back the laughing emoji. No, she said, Marcus Pike isn’t a crazy. You’ll like him.

You did like him. He was waiting for you at the Hertz desk, and heat licked up your skin when you realized - he was striking. He was the type of man you’d make eyes at in a bar without any hope of even getting a number. His brown hair was neatly trimmed, and he had a softness brought on by a light scruff that didn’t hide his dimples. You barely registered that he was apologizing for not getting to introduce himself before flying out, but promised he was who he said he was. Even pulled out his credentials.

“Bureau?” you said to his badge. “I thought you were an associate professor?” You want to smack yourself.

Oh, “I am,” he replied. He dug in his wallet and pulled out a campus ID that matched yours. “I’m taking an interim year. I thought teaching would be a nice way to ease into DC life.”

Now he was here, sweating under the storm clouds while watching you unbutton A-0017’s shirt, and half listening to the director tell him all about how they kept the lawn looking green despite, ahem, fluids. You sternly told A-0017 to be on their best behavior while you pulled their shirt back to examine some fiber swatches stapled to his rubbery chest.

On the flight back Pike asked you all about your thesis plans. You stuttered as you began. He waited, patient. You were writing on how the FBI could contribute to cultural repatriation efforts internationally by returning art pieces. Do you know what it could do to boost scholarly opportunities? The doors it could open! Why put it in cold storage when it could revitalize movements? Art breathes, after all. You were exhausted by the time the plane landed. Both from answering questions, and from keeping a steadily building tension under wraps. You hoped he didn’t notice how you crossed your legs.

“I’d love to read it.” He handed your backpack down from the overhead bin.

“Maybe you should be my second reader.” You got serious when his face perked up. “I still need one.”

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That was nine months ago.

Your exams are in a week, and instead of thinking about preparing, all you can think of is that once everything is turned in, you probably won’t see Marcus again. He’s been your anchor these last months, and you’ve gotten used to his solid presence and encouraging platitudes. You cup your hot cheeks because it’s a dirty thought.

He lets you work in his office for a couple hours a week every week. The crammed little space is tight quarters, but he makes room for your laptop anyway. Sometimes you worked together heads bent for full time. Sometimes he read pages from your thesis, and you help him grade some papers from his first-year art history course. And sometimes you drink three pm coffee together and don’t work at all. It’s your favorite time of the week. The glow his praise gives you is embarrassing. And he’s an easy companion - nope, colleague. Your heart beats and your mouth waters every time you’re fifteen feet from his office door. The cold door knob jolts you took. You harbor a secret. Keep it warm in your belly. It swirls hungrily deep in you.

But now it’s a problem. You’re so distracted. Every time you leave his office, you’re tense from want. Your body is already over-caffeinated and achy from sitting in hard library chairs so long. But you keep going. Every time an anxious heat lights up the alarms in your head your instinct is to ask him what to do. You have to rest your hands in your head and remind yourself: he isn’t your babysitter, he’s a grown man who doesn’t have boundless time to tell you what to do. You have to figure it out yourself. Even if you really just want him to tell you what this or that section needs, is the title here misleading, is it lunch time, do you think the tone here is condescending?

What do you think? What do you want it to look like?

You think you want to grab his dumb button down collars and bite his lip. You want it to look flushed and tousled and desperate. You want to ride him in his reading chair with the door locked. It just isn’t fair.

The night before your first exam you take z-quil, drink lavender tea, and read a chapter of your favorite book to relax. Your phone buzzes at nine. It’s Marcus: good luck! You’re going to do great! Well. Better take some more Z-quill now that your heart is palpitating.

You pass both tests in excellent standing - MS in International Relations: complete. Pike attends the oral exam. Your skin goes hot when he smiles at you when the committee declares you exceed expectations. He invites you for a celebratory drink in the next couple days, which means you have two days to sternly wrangle your crush back into the dirty corner she came from.

You fail miserably.

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“Look,” he says, setting his beer down on the glass bar counter. “I know it’s not my business, but you still look stressed out. Are your grades bothering you?”

The rim of your gin and tonic is wet with condensation from where your finger circles it. “No, they’re great.”

He bumps your shoulder with his. “Then what’s the damage? You’re jumpier than a…” he trails off thinking a good metaphor. He squints at you a little.

“A virgin at a prison rodeo?” you supply. He inhales sharply, eyes wide. “You can laugh.”

“I didn’t know you watched ‘The Golden Girls,” he says. His tone is admiring. “I was going to say jumpier than a graduate student giving their defense.” You purse your lips when he raises his eyebrows at you. “Can I help at all?”

You watch his Adam’s apple bob when he takes another sip of his beer. The soft orange lights in the bar spill around his jaw and throat, they flicker in his irises. His face in three quarter profile is august. You’re utterly exhausted from the polite ‘student mentor’ dance you’ve had to do for months while keeping your desire at bay. And more than that, you didn’t want to answer. You wanted to show him and let him decide. The sultry washboard and piano music give you that last boost.

You make sure he’s watching you, then you slowly reach out and wrap your fingers around his wrist.

Then you wait.

Marcus pauses from lifting his beer bottle, eyes glued to your hand on his wrist. It’s petite against him. He stares at your baby blue fingernails pairing beautifully with his Stirling watch - and he feels himself harden.

All the skin on your body stands at attention when he meets your eyes. Everything in them tells you he wants you just as bad. There’s a hesitant curve above his eyebrow though. You get it. You were his student - he’s such a sweet man he wouldn’t even dream of using a power dynamic like that to get laid. Your breath comes in short heaves.

“The semester ended thirty-six minutes ago,” you say over the music. He takes a deep breath. You aren’t his student anymore. Not according to the school, anyway.

You want him to decide. If he doesn’t, you’ll go home and fall apart under your fingertips thinking about how hot it would have been to lift your dress and sit on his cock while wearing your thigh highs.

“Do you want to leave?” You nod, resisting the urge to bite your lip.

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Marcus’s apartment is homey. Streetlights flood the floor of the living room through the street facing windows. You turn this way and that to inspect the dark areas that look like bookshelves while he hangs up your coat. You squeeze your hands at your sides, because this is happening. You’re in his house. The hardwood floor is cold under your stocking feet.

You jump when he puts his hands on your shoulders from behind you, holding you a mere inch from his body. You bite your lip when his nose bumps into the back of your head.

“Are you sure about this?”

“You already asked me that,” you reply, letting your head fall back on his shoulder. You want so badly to tell him to tell you what to do. That you don’t want to make any decisions. Brain is worn out. That you want to please him, and not think. Oh, to be a freshmen simply sponging up information.

“I know,” he slides his hands to your biceps and turns you around. “I can check in again, can’t I? He cups your face when you nod. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, please,” you have to stop yourself from saying something incriminating, like mister Pike, or sir, or professor.

You clutch the front of his button down to anchor yourself when his lips brush yours. His mouth is soft. It coaxes you to open so he can dive into you, his tongue swipes your bottom lip, and you respond by pressing into him. You stay pliant under him, letting him lead. Your legs feel on the verge of collapse when you break away. You can’t stand it anymore.

“I want to suck your cock.”

Both of you freeze. For a second you wonder if you’ve given him a heart attack. But you watched his thighs on the car ride back and couldn’t stop thinking about kneeling between them. Your mouth waters. Marcus can’t breathe. He’s straining against his zipper. After your declaration he wants it too.

“Okay, honey,” he breathes. He brushes your ear with his thumb. “If that’s what you want, we’ll do that.”

He tries to draw you backward toward his room where he can turn on a lamp and properly pay tribute to your body, but you pull him back. You tug him to his mid-century armchair - he has the twin to it in his office. His mouth goes dry. You have to know. He looks into your face, and from the way you’ve averted your eyes, you know.

“Please?” you say. It sounds like a sob.

From this close you can smell the vanilla and bergamot of his soap. He sits, waiting for you. When you don’t move he holds his hand out for you to take.

“Come here, honey,” he draws you close. The top of your dress swings a little and he groans when he sees the break of your dress to what he thought were tights. Marcus studies your face in the second hand street light - your mouth parted, your eyes blown wide. Your hand in his is hot. “Hey, if this is overwhelming, or not what you want-”

“It is,” you correct him.

“Tell me what’s wrong then,” he requests. You feel pained. If you don’t say it now you never will.

“Tell me what to do.” Your head aches from the stress of carrying it for so long. “I’ve had to make my own decisions for months, and I don’t want to anymore. Just - for five minutes-” you bring your hands to your cheeks and press them against your hot skin. You watch as he realizes what you want. He nods in slow motion.

“Okay,” he says. “Kneel for me.” He gets even harder when you sink to your knees. Your hands rest in your lap. Waiting. He can’t believe this is happening. Thank goodness he’s going back to the Bureau in three months. He couldn’t face the other faculty - fuck, your advisor - after this. Leaning forward he cups your chin and kisses you. You squeeze your thighs together. He kisses your ear and says lowly, “take my cock out, honey. I want you to suck me off.”

When you take him in your mouth as far as you can, you look into his face. His mouth has fallen open. His ears have turned red from flushing. It’s indescribable. It makes your mouth water further around his hard length. It’s heavy on your tongue. You move up and down his shaft leisurely, trying to savor it. Letting saliva run down onto his skin as your tongue works the spongy head. You reach up to work the base with your hand when he tells you ‘no’.

“Just your mouth.” Fuck. You moan around him as a ripple pulls from deep in your core. The vibrations of you moaning make him jolt and heave. For a few moments he apologies while you breathe deeply, then resume. You take a mouthful of him. It’s feasting. It’s mindless.

His fingers brush the side of your face, and tenderly cups the back of your head. You want to make him understand this is what you want. So you slide down as far as you can comfortably, and wait. Swallowing thickly around his length

“Fuck, honey,” he groans. He gets it, taking both hands and moving your head the pace he wants. You can tell he hasn’t been asked for this often. Maybe ever. You close your eyes and just feel. His cock filling your mouth. Aches forming around your jaw. Tears leaking out of your eyes from your concentration. Your pussy wetting through your underwear. Marcus pulling your hair. You swallow hard, then he stops. And pushes you off.

You whine in protest.

“I hear you, honey,” he says softly. His voice is hoarse. “Another time. I want you to unwind right now.” Your pussy clenches.

He takes you back to his bedroom and helps you undress. He lifts your dress over your head, and kneels to help you out of your thigh highs. One day, if you’ll let him, he’ll fuck you with them on, but he likes to see all of a woman the first time he does anything to her. He kisses the bit of skin above the waistband of your panties before standing to kiss your lips. Your help him push them down your hips until they fall to your ankles. The soft gasp he lets out at the sight of your underwear and bare body is nothing short of gluttonous.

“Lay down.”

He strips while you watch. He does it without taking his eyes off of you. There’s hunger in them. This man has an appetite, you know it. The fabric rustles pleasantly between the sound of both of you breathing. Far away, ambulance sirens blare in another neighborhood, but here in his apartment the wet sound of cars passing in the rainy street are the closest accompaniment.

“I want to touch you here,” he tells you, palming your sex and making you squeak. It’s so forward.

“Do it,” you breathe, and part your legs further for him. He leans in and kisses your temple, murmuring ‘good girl’ and you swear you could black out.

You’re already so wet when his fingers part your folds to greet the new territory. “Did sucking my cock get you wet?” He sounds amazed. He tastes one fingertip before putting it back to tease your folds. “I wonder how wet you would be just holding it in your mouth while you read.”

“Oh-” a ripple works down your spine. He smirks. The tip of his finger brushes just inside your lips to tease your entrance.

“I’m going to put my fingers in you. You,” he pauses to kiss your cheek, “relax. You earned it.” He rubs his nose up and down yours, and you nudge him back just as he slips one long finger into you. You’re glad he’s being sweet like this. It’s the perfect blend of firmness and care. You want him to dominate you one someday, maybe, but right here and now, the combination of his low voice and steady fingers is ideal. Marcus kisses your cheek and mouth as he works his finger in and out of you. It’s thick and reaches further than you ever could. You spread your legs even further to tell him, more.

Without removing his hand he moves down your body to lick your clit. He sucks and flicks it as he coaxes more wetness out of your leaking cunt. Carefully he pulls the finger out and presses his wet hand to the inside of your thigh to keep you open. He laps into you, covering the muscles with lubricant because you’re going to need it. You see his face just as he decides you’re ready; it’s contemplative, like he’s concentrating. Then he slides two fingers deep into you.

“Oh, fuck, that’s so fucking good,” your voice crescendos. You reach for his shoulder as he comes up to lie beside you. His skin is warm under your palm. You buck your hips looking for something else, seeking, wanting-

“Stay still.” You still immediately. “Just feel it, baby. I want you to be ready for me.” You know what he means. His cock is thick and smearing against your hip. He was big in your mouth, he’s going to be big while pushing into you. His fingers keep moving while he kisses the tips of your nipples. When he takes one between his teeth and tugs you break. Your mouth opens, and your legs clamp reflexively around his wrist. Your pussy gushes around his fingers - you can feel it. You can feel how his movements change from a drag as a slide. He keeps pumping. He doesn’t give up until he’s sure you’ve felt every aftershock. He’d love to take his time and work a third in one day - if he can - but tonight, he wants to move on. After you swallowed his cock in his sitting room chair he’s been thinking of rewarding you.

You feel him slip his fingers out, and roll away to the nightstand. He looks back at you, and his eyes soften a little before he asks, “do you want me to use a condom?”

“No,” you say and reach for his bicep to pull him back toward you. He comes willingly. “I have an IUD. And I’m clean.” He smiles, flinging the packet over his shoulder. It makes you giggle, but it sounds hysterical to your ears. You watch him reach down and pump his cock with the hand that was just inside you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

“Look at me,” he orders. Your eyes snap open. Marcus crashes his lips on yours. The hand not dripping from your cunt cups the back of your head. “I want to see your eyes while I fuck you.”

His blunt head breaks into you, you lose all thought. He sinks further in, until you’re squirming on his length because he’s stretching you. You suck air in and will your body will stay still like he suggested for his fingers. You look into Marcus’s eyes the whole time, trying to tell him how good he feels. You can’t make the words leave your throat. He pulls your head to him, kisses your mouth until you compose yourself and lie still. Then he gets to work. The breadth of him stills you anew. For the first time in months you fully relax, hardly making a sound as he thrusts steadily. You stare into Marcus’s eyes while your mouth falls open as he slides into you, and listen to the wet sounds of your pussy and the bed frame creaking.

Then he starts talking.

“Do you know how good you look in those blue trousers? I want to grab your ass every time you wear them,” he rumbles. His pace picks up a hair, and he feels harder in you somehow. He drops to his forearm. “I love watching it when you walk out of my office.” You knew it. “And that damn cardigan you never wear a shirt under? Those buttons slip right open, don’t they?” He punctuates it with a deep thrust that makes you squeak. “Answer me.”

“Yes.”

“Wear it over for dinner. I’ll bite your tits through it.”

He fucks into you harder, sending shivers up your spine with every thrust. It moves you up the bed until you have to reach a hand up and press back against the headboard. You clutch him with the other, looping around his shoulder to feel the muscles in his arms pull and tug as he moves in you, working you up to another release Soon enough, the coil in your belly tightens and he reaches to worry your clit with deft fingers. His eyes never leave you. You think this man could make the hardest fuck feel like making love.

“I need more,” you tell him. You’re too embarrassed to ask for what you want. A tear leaks out of your eye because his thickness is so good, but you want something else too. You always underestimate him. He grins because he knows - he’s a detective. He figured it out. He leans down to rest his forehead on your temple.

“You’re doing so well,” he says. You arch up into him, your breasts brush his chest. “Your wet pussy is so sweet. It’s taking me so well. Are you gonna be respectful? Gonna listen?” You have to hold your breath as your hips tense. “Be good and come on my cock.” Oh fuck. “Say it.”

Your voice is wet with joy. “Yes, sir.”

“Such a good girl.”

Sparks lick up your back and through your cunt, forcing Marcus deeper into when you lift your lips. He slows to let you enjoy all your release. He kisses your neck, your jaw, your lips. Then when he hears your content sigh, he buries his face in your neck and chases his own release. He comes with an accompanying rumble from deep in his chest. You moan in return and lift your lips to catch him as he slumps, barely holding his weight off of you.

Water runs in the washroom as you tug the sheets back. The light clicks off, and Marcus appears with a washcloth. His dimple appears when you lean back and let him clean your tender flesh. He sits on the edge of the bed next to your hips, running his knuckles on the soft side of your breast.

“Stay the night,” says. “I’ll cook you breakfast.”

“Hm,” you say, mock contemplative. You run your fingers down his chest. He preens under the affection. “I will. I feel really good.” Your cheeks tingle at the admission. He smiles wide and bright.

He comes back from putting the cloth in the hamper. You roll so he can run his hands the length of your side

“Thank you,” you murmur. He lifts his face from where he’s been peppering your waist with kisses. His brow is furrowed in amused confusion. “For being good to me. For caring about what happened to me.” You’ll tell him the horror stories your friends have from their college another time.

He sighs and cups your cheek. “I like doing it. You’re bright. Supporting you is a privilege. Especially when I know that brain is going to put us all to shame one day.” You could cry.

“I’ve liked you since the body farm,” you admit. He wrinkles his nose. “I know. Not very romantic.”

“I liked you since you thought my campus ID was more official than my FBI badge.”

“I didn’t think that!”

“Get some sleep,” he says. A wicked glint comes to his eye. “I am going to wear you out before lunch.” You wiggle to get comfortable in the sheets and he curls over your back to hold you to his chest.

Orange light peeks through the gap in his blackout drapes. You eye him over your shoulder then settle into the pillow. All the tension in your shoulders is gone.

part 2

#marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #reader insert #fanfiction #writing #the mentalist fanfiction #I took some liberties with UT's school of anthros forensics lab #it does exist #DO NOT LOOK UP PICTURES #IF YOU ARE SQUEAMISH #DON'T DO IT #I AM NOT SQUEAMISH AND DO RESEARCH WITH CADAVERS #BUT IF YOU ARE SQUEAMISH #DONT #DO #IT

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tiesthatbind-tf · 4 years ago

Photo

I accidentally deleted 2000 words of story for poor Soundwave last night and had to rewrite everything but tbh, they’re absolutely worthit. Their armor definitely makes me want to experiment with Celtic motifs for Hot Rod!

Full story below.

Suraya Widodo was born to parents Wijaya and Ni Made Saraswati on the island of Madura, Indonesia. They noticed that something didn’t quite seem right with their baby, who was fussier than most, threw fits when brought into crowded spaces and seemed mostly lost in their own thoughts, though this did little to dampen their love.

The name ‘Widodo’ (healthy) was given to Suraya (despite the masculine nature of it, which does lend to Suraya’s nonchalance about their gender in later years) in hopes that they would grow up alright despite their quirks.

Wijaya, a fisherman who wanted to give his family a better life in the more industrialized town of Bangkalan west of the island, pushed himself hard at his work, hoping to earn enough to allow them to settle down there comfortably.

He began to risk venturing out into ocean areas which were occasionally used as smuggling routes where more lucrative catches laid, careful to fish there during specific times to the day to avoid crossing paths with pirates and smugglers.

However, his luck ran out one day when a smuggling vessel came across him in broad daylight and silenced him from alerting the coast guards to their existence with five shots.

Suraya was five.

Saraswati, desperate to find a way to care for her child as the new breadwinner thought she had gotten lucky when a job scouter for a factory in Bangkalan came to the village. They were looking to offer work to single mothers as part of their corporate responsibility programme and extended the offer of employment to her and promised a hostel and training so she wasn’t out of her depth in the assembly line.

Seeing it as the best option, she left Suraya with her husband’s family while she worked and lived in a worker’s hostel on weekdays and returned to see Suraya every weekend.

She would give money to the family to care for Suraya in her absence, which was crucial since they weren’t fond of Saraswati (they had not agreed to Wijaya’s marriage) and found Suraya’s odd behavior off-putting and claims of ‘hearing voices’ potentially a sign of mental illness (which was fodder for them to demand even more money from Saraswati with the excuse that Suraya was a handful).

This routine continued until Saraswati was suddenly killed in a factory accident.

Suraya was nine.

The compensation for Saraswati’s death was enough for the family for only a few months and after it dried up, the neglect and abuse began. Though at times it was odd because Suraya seemed to know when they were in a bad mood and when they were looking for an outlet for their anger, and the child would somehow almost always magically disappear during those times.

Then an agent claiming to be from the government came to see them.

He claimed he had heard about Suraya via their mother and wanted to inspect the child to see if they would qualify for a place in a ‘special school’ for ‘different’ children, and this had sounded tame enough to the family, who allowed him to see the shy, withdrawn little waif.

However Suraya immediately could tell what his true intentions were—-to have them locked up in a testing facility to figure out their ‘mutation’—-and attempted to run, only to be caught by his fellow officers outside the home.

The family was paid compensation for officially relinquishing Suraya’s care to the state, and did so without question, only relieved to be rid of their ‘burden’.

Suraya was taken to facility after facility in the state for the first few years to have a battery of tests, many painful, run on them to figure out their ‘special ability’ as an Outlier and to see if it could be replicated.

When they were in their early teens, they were transported overseas to a different facility as a bargaining chip for intel, tech and the like, coming into the ‘care’ of people who intended to use them as a government asset.

They never saw daylight except during transportation and they began to plan their escape as they studied the facility’s layout.

Their first attempt at escape didn’t go well however; they were caught, dragged back and had their eyes burned and blinded as punishment (at this point they had shown their handlers that their highly-enhanced hearing made them capable of navigating the world in total darkness, so said handlers didn’t not see this as ‘damaging the goods’).

If the handlers thought that the punishment would deter them however, it didn’t; Suraya just became more careful and subtle with the planning of their next attempt.

The second attempt came during a transport session where there were less guards and less access to tech to subdue them, though it came with a problem they did not plan for.

In their first attempt, they had tried escaping into the countryside. In this one, they hurled themselves out completely unprepared into a world louder than any world they had ever known; downtown London on a weekend.

The cacophony completely overwhelmed their senses and they barely managed to crawl-stumble into an alley as bounty hunters were enlisted to track them down.

It was here that they ran into one Ramiro Vasquez (Ravage) who was immediately concerned about their situation and once figuring out the nature of their distress, gave them his headphones to drown out the noise and kept them safe and hidden until the bounty hunters had left.

He then took Suraya back to the rented apartment he shared with Lara Soelberg (Laserbeak) and both agreed to let the waif stay with them for as long as they needed to be alright, and the three formed a little familial unit as Suraya grew deeply fond of the two Beast Men whom they saw as two of the most compassionate people in a horrible world.

Ramiro however understood that Suraya needed tutelage to properly harness and deal with their Outlier ability; having heard whispers of a secret Outlier school run Senator Sharifuddin Waseem (Shockwave) and knowing Sharifuddin as one of the few good men in the Senate, he decided to take the risk and confronted the Senator about the matter, promising to keep the secret a secret in return for helping out Suraya.

As it turned out the threats were not necessary, as Sharifuddin was genuinely concerned for them and came to see them personally at the apartment. Initially, Suraya was apprehensive about meeting someone else about their abilities, remembering full well how the first such meeting ended, but to their pleasant surprise, they detected no malice in Sharifuddin’s intentions; only the desire to help.

They agreed to enroll in Sharifuddin’s Outlier institute, coming back home to see Ramiro and Lara every weekend.

They excelled in their classes and soon mastered their ability and knew how to deal with the overstimulation that came from it, to the point where they could walk the streets with no problem.

In the wake of murders of Senators Nikomedes Momus and Gayathri Sharma, Suraya offered to become a spy for Sharifuddin, who was determined to solve the deaths, and Sharifuddin began bringing them to Senate meetings under the guise of them being his new aide.

They caught the eye of Senator Radbourne (RatBat) who seemed to pick up the fact that they were an Outlier, but rather than bring up the matter, requested that they work with him as well on.... matters regarding his constituents with disabilities.

Sharifuddin has his reservations about Radbourne and Suraya knew they were up to no good and both agreed to the arrangement so Suraya could dig up more information about them.

As it turned out, Radbourne was dirty as dirty as politicians came, but he had nothing to do with the murders. Rather, he was mostly preoccupied with an individual named Morgan Trayton (Megatron), the same individual whom Omar Parvez (Orion Pax) a friend of Sharifuddin’s, had mentioned as a great writer.

Radbourne asked Suraya to track down Morgan with an offer the man hopefully wouldn’t refuse and Suraya, intrigued about this man with what they’d heard about him from Omar, agreed to do so.

They found Morgan in a vast underground fighting ring in Moscow, and after voicing some skepticism about him walking his written talk, he allowed them to peek into his mind to see how genuine and committed he was to his cause, and it took them aback for a bit to meet someone who despite being mired in tragedy, had Sharifuddin’s desire to make a better world and the iron will to back it up.

They pledged themself to be among the first members of Morgan’s rising revolution (which was aided by Omar spreading his writings through an underground press) and told them about Radbourne’s offer to supply weapons and augmentations to increase profits from the pitfighting racket.

Morgan agreed if only to use these exact items against the Senate once he’d acquired an army.

It was during this time with Morgan that they also met Ramsey (Rumble) and Friedel (Frenzy), a pair of dwarf miners who the man had been friends with for years, and almost immediately got along with their boisterous, gregarious natures.

They continued to be Radbourne’s liaison with Megatron until the start of the Clampdown when they watched Morgan kill the owner of the Pit, free those who wanted their freedom and take those who were loyal to him to meet with Sharifuddin to formally establish a rebellion.

It was about this time that Suraya found out that Radbourne had been conducting illegal experiments on Beast Men, something they took grave offense to, and they kept mining Radbourne for more information about where the experiments were taking place.

Upon finding out, they personally hunted down Radbourne as Stefan Scavarro (Starscream) initiated the Senate massacre to Radbourne’s labs, where he tried to fight them off only to finally find out the true extent of their abilities.

Badly-injured, his attempt at stopping them from freeing the captive Beast Men—-his “property” as he would yell at them—-ended up with him hurled into a genetic splicing pod (commissioned from a ‘Mesothulas’) which he accidentally activated.

The process twisted him into a Rat-Bat-human hybrid, and rather than kill him, Suraya decided to leave the option to the Beast Men he tortured for profit in what they saw as poetic justice.

After those who wanted vengeance were done with Radbourne, Suraya gave the Beast Men the option of leaving free or coming with them to be a part of Morgan’s revolution which would ensure that they were never mistreated and ostracized by the larger world again.

Two of the Beast Men took up the offer; Bastien Saville (Buzzsaw) and Gan Go-eun (Glit).

When Morgan, confident in Suraya’s abilities asked them to establish their own division focussed on spying and intel gathering, Suraya chose Ramiro, Lara, Ramsey, Friedel and Bastien to work alongside them.

While Suraya occasionally questions Morgan’s actions, two things they have never questioned are his dedication to his cause and the compassion he shows to those they care for, and it’s enough for them to consider themself a true Decepticon till the day his objectives are achieved.

#Maccadam #Humanformers #Soundwave #Ravage #Laserbeak #Character art

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joheunsaram · 3 years ago

Text

To Make A Power Couple - 10 (knj)

Chapter 10: good news/bad news

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Summary- Almost two years into your relationship with Namjoon, everything seems to be going great... or is it?

word count- 10.8k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- R

genre- series, idolau, fluff, smut, angst

warnings- a lot of things happening in this chapter, lot of friends sharing different news, a lot of talk about the future, caretaker!joon, smut in the forms of softestdom!joon, sub!reader, sensation play (ice), titty worship, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, DADDY KINK (IKR?!?!! WHODVE THUNK?), unprotected sex, subdrop, crying, aftercare, mentions of anxiety and depression, I THINK THAT’S IT.

a.n- and so we get back into things. ive been procrastinating this chapter for ages because i just couldnt get some of the scenes exactly how i wanted them but finished is better than perfect! thank you so much for your patience and i hope you enjoy this new installment. i love you all!

A special thank you to @hobiandsprite and @oftenderweapons for their support throughout the planning and also thank you to @jimilter, @casuallyimagining, and bells for beta reading this for me! I would be putting out literal dumpster fires if it weren’t for them finessing my words.

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sscheherazadee, @rjsmochii , @jinjccns , @joyful-jimin @sideblogger @agustdpeach @diamonddia-mond, @asdfghjklqwertyv, @cheesecakes-randomshitz, @goldenjongho, @aroseforyoongi, @awhnamjoon, @butterflieswingsthings, @shyning-star, @stillwthyou

Jungkook: here

You watched Jungkook’s message pop up on your screen as you walked towards the elevator, excited for some good food after eating convenience store sushi in Tokyo for two days. Seokjin rarely had dinner parties and even more rarely did they involve going to a restaurant, especially one that was an hour outside of Seoul, but apparently they served the best steak in Korea. So even though you had no time to make it back to your apartment after your flight, you showered at the office and were dressed to the nines in a black dress, complete with heels, trailing your luggage behind you.

Jungkook got out of the car when he saw you, helping you load the bag in the back before opening the door for you and running to his side to get into the driver’s side.

“You know, one of these days, one of you has to learn how to drive,” he commented as he pulled out of the parking space, heading towards the highway. You laughed at his remark, rolling his eyes as you replied to Namjoon’s message to meet him at the venue.

“Why do we have to learn when you can be our personal chauffeur?” you retorted as he turned the radio on, some pop ballad playing through the speakers.

“I do have a life, you know,” he sang, matching the melody flowing through the car. “Plus, aren’t you both old enough to know how to drive?”

“I’m not Seokjin oppa, I will beat your ass for making fun of my age,” you said, lightly tapping his arm as he recoiled dramatically, wincing from the imaginary pain.

“You’re so mean, noona,” he whined, pouting at you as he stopped at a red light.

“Stop being dramatic,” you replied, before remembering a very important detail he had texted you about earlier. “So tell me again, where’s your super secret girlfriend?”

“Wow. Not even a hello and you jump straight into interrogation,” he said, turning onto the highway, the city fading away in the background as he left the bridge he was driving on behind, the water below you turning into sleek slate roads.

“I already said hello,” you waved. “Now, stop stalling! I’m starting to think she’s imaginary.”

“You think I made up a girlfriend?” he asked, incredulous. “Noona, have you seen me? I would never need to make up a girlfriend.” He smirked proudly.

“I swear if your head gets any bigger it’ll explode.”

“Mean! I’m totally humble!”

“You’re totally stalling, Kookie,” you hummed and he laughed in response, before biting his lip bashfully.

“Well, we met at work, and, I don’t know? She’s just great…”

If the last almost two years of dating Namjoon hadn’t made you close to Jungkook, you would’ve missed the way he ducked his head shyly. But you knew just by that one movement how whipped the man in front of you was.

On your drive, you learnt all about Jungkook’s new girlfriend, an assistant producer for one of the shows they had appeared on, recently. Apparently, her name was Areum and she was breathtakingly beautiful as well as the only person who he had dated who wanted to go skydiving with him. You shook your head at his comment, glad that Namjoon would never be into jumping out of planes. He told you about their first date where they went for coffee and talked for hours and you could feel how happy he was, glee radiating off him in waves. You couldn’t help smiling with him as he told you little anecdotes and mirrored his frown when he mentioned how she had to work overtime tonight and couldn’t meet for dinner.

“How do you and hyung do it?” he asked, following the GPS that asked him to make a right turn onto some unpaved country roads.

“Do what?”

“Manage your schedules. Both of yours are crazy!” he exclaimed.

“I don’t know. It’s a lot of texting,” you giggled. “When you love someone you make it work,” you added with a shrug.

“I hope Areum and I can get to where you guys are,” he said, reverant, with a shy smile that scrunched his nose, and you chuckled. If you ever doubted your relationship, all you had to do was look at Jungkook. You loved that he was your biggest fan. As odd as it may seem, it made you feel accepted into the Bangtan family. “Speaking of your man, I can’t believe Namjoon hyung waited for you outside,” he added, shocked as he pulled into the parking lot.

As if on cue, your eyes landed on Namjoon, dressed in a nice shirt and pants, the attire peeking through a large puffy coat he had left unzipped. As Jungkook and you put on some cloth face masks, he jogged up to the car, opening your door as soon as it was unlocked.

“Hi, baby. How was the flight?” he asked, hugging you as soon as you stepped out of the car, and you felt your heart warm as you wrapped your arms around him under his coat.

“Good,” you murmured against his chest as he hummed, hugging you tighter and swaying a little.

“Tired?” he asked and you shook your head.

“Hyung, I know we’re outside the city but save the PDA for inside,” Jungkook joked, laughing as he made his way into the restaurant. Namjoon pressed his masked lips to your forehead, trying to simulate a kiss, and you laughed as the two of you followed Jungkook to the restaurant.

The gathering was substantial, about twenty people or so. With the band and their managers and their various partners, the restaurant seemed full, despite it only hosting your party for the night. Chaotic would be an understatement for the room, loud with multiple conversations happening across the table. It was funny to you how it seemed as if all of you were at home, the waitstaff making minimal appearances as they left you all to your antics.

Bottles of wine were emptied as the night went on, and true to Seokjin’s word, the steak was some of the best you had ever had. The pieces even came with a family chart to certify the authenticity of the expensive meat. You felt a little bad eating something whose name was proudly printed on a little flag, but you’d be hard pressed to argue that it wasn’t absolutely delicious.

You had initially thought the dinner was a sort of farewell to the boys going away on another press run next month. However, two bottles of wine in and with a coy smile, Seokjin, showcasing his uniquely chaotic nature, was tapping an unused pair of chopsticks against the glass for attention, to reveal the real reason for the gathering.

He kissed his girlfriend’s cheek, before standing up once the room was silent.

“Friends, I have great news,” he began, his ears a bright red.

“If he says he’s handsome… I swear to god…” Namjoon whispered in your ear and you giggled, squeezing his hand in yours.

“I, Mister Worldwide Handsome,” he continued, only to be booed by the room, Yoongi going so far to toss a piece of lettuce at him, his cheeks a bright red from the alcohol and a mischievous smile on his face. Needless to say, he had booed the loudest.

“Fucking rude!” Seokjin grimaced. “As I was saying, Yoongi, I invited you all here tonight to celebrate something really special. Darling,” he said, turning to his girlfriend, gently holding her hand as she stood up. “We’re engaged!” he squealed, as she held up her exorbitant diamond ring.

The room became completely silent, everyone looking at the oldest member in surprise before erupting into a cacophony of cheers. People jumped from their seats to hug and congratulate Seokjin and his fiancee. The wait staff seemed to be in the know about the celebration, if the immediate presence of champagne flutes were anything to go by.

By the time dessert was finished and Namjoon and you got into the backseat of Jungkook’s car, your head was hazy with the alcohol, a goofy grin on your face. You leaned your head against your boyfriend as he put his arm around you, letting you cuddle into him. You felt sleepy from all the food, and you had missed Namjoon wrapped around you.

“I’ll wake you when we get home,” he said with a peck on your lips as he stroked your hair. He felt content, a little sleepy himself, soon dozing off, glad that Yoongi was keeping Jungkook company as he drove so as not to fully ignore his youngest friend.

He dreamed of proposing to you on one knee with the ring that had been hidden away in his studio for over six months.

You walked slowly into your bedroom after Jungkook dropped the two of you off, still half asleep as you stripped your dress and bra, opting to grab one of Namjoon’s shirts before dropping into bed, sighing as exhaustion took over.

Namjoon chuckled at your form in the middle of the bed, stripping to his boxers, his usual sleeping attire, picking up your clothes and heading to the bathroom to grab a makeup wipe. He smacked your ass lightly as he climbed on the bed, turning you around as you groaned. Your face tickled as he removed your makeup and you scrunched your nose, making Namjoon coo.

Leaning in, he kissed your nose. “There’s my pretty girl,” he exclaimed, smiling widely and you returned his grin, wrapping your arms around his neck. Pulling him to you, you kissed him, humming against his lips as he laid on top of you, his hands roaming under your shirt to hold onto your waist.

Without breaking the kiss, he moved you higher up the bed till your head was against the pillows. He deepened the kiss, his heart pounding as his tongue met yours and his hands found purchase on your chest. He had just started grinding on you, ready to devour you when you pushed him back.

“Raincheck?” you asked sheepishly, a hand on the side of his face. He whined a little, moving his face to nuzzle into your neck, nipping at the skin lightly.

“You sure? I can do all the work,” he replied, his hand moving under you to gently massage your ass as his lips continued their actions on your neck. You wanted to continue but the day had been so long, and the lack of sleep was making you feel as if your head was hazy, floating in space. You could feel his dick hard against you and although usually you would be begging for it, you kind of just wanted to sleep in your own bed with your boyfriend next to you.

You apologized and he cut you off with a light kiss, before moving off you and tucking you into his side, an arm under your head and the other pulling your leg over him before resting on your hip. “Don’t apologize. We can just sleep,” he said with a smile, his lips on your forehead.

“I love you.” You cuddled into him, relaxing in his scent, a reprieve from the overly bleached smell of hotel bed sheets.

“Love you too, baby,” he said, before continuing. “Can you believe hyung is getting married?”

“Right? It’s kinda crazy!” you exclaimed, looking up at him as he stroked your hair. He laughed at your comment.

“Why? Cause he still acts like he’s twelve?”

“Nah… Well, yes,” you giggled, running your fingers up his arm as he snuggled further into the pillows, moving his head a few times in an attempt to move a strand away from his eyes. You pushed the pesky hair away before speaking as he scrunched his nose in gratitude. “It’s ‘cause it’s hardly practical. right? Like what if someone leaks it? Or they get a divorce? We’re young, why settle down already?”

Namjoon’s smile fell at your words but you missed it, moving your head onto his chest, your fingers now trailing around his stomach. You hummed a little in the silence, unaware of how many questions were buzzing through your boyfriend’s head at your nonchalant dismissal of marriage. Had you always thought like this? Was Namjoon just imagining that you’d want a future with him as much as he wanted one with you?

“We’re not that young… We’re almost thirty,” he said tentatively, and you just shrugged.

“Yeah, but we’re so busy. What’s even the point of getting married already?”

“I don’t know. To be with each other? Do you not like marriage?” Namjoon knew he was a little snappy in his response, but he couldn’t help feeling a bit upset by your statement.

“I’m not against marriage… It’s just something for the future,” you replied, your sleepiness rendering you unable to read too much into his words and removing the filter from yours as you chuckled. “Don’t tell me you want to get married already!”

“I mean is that so crazy to want?” He brought his hand to your cheek, lifting your head to look at you. Although he was hurt by you brushing off the notion, he couldn’t help hoping that you were speaking from hypotheticals. The two of you had been together for almost two years, how could you not see how perfectly you fit together?

“It’s not,” you said, gazing into his eyes, confused by the sudden tension in his muscles as he stiffened in your embrace. “Just in the future, you know. You wanna marry me?”

“More than anything in the world,” he answered, determined. “I’ll marry you right now, if you ask me to.”

“Easy there, Joonie. We have time. Why rush it?”

“You wanna marry me?” he asked instead of answering.

“More than anything in the world,” you replied with the same determination as him. “But in the future. Is that okay?”

He softened a little at your sheepish tone, leaning in to kiss you. “In the future,” he agreed, leaning back as you hummed and closed your eyes, cuddling him.

He stroked your hair mindlessly, distracted by disappointment. He didn’t want to dwell on it, but he had planned to propose to you next month when he returned from the next bout of PR appearances in Japan. Maybe it was for the best you had discussed this. Better than being on one knee and hearing you say no.

He sighed, noting that you were already asleep, your hand that was caressing him still as you laid with your mouth open. Perhaps he didn’t need to label you as his wife yet. If you wanted to wait, he could wait for you. He’d always wait for you.

You heard Namjoon enter through the front door, his sigh loud as he dropped his things in the hallway. Looking up from your laptop on the couch, you saw him standing still for a while, a frown on his face as he seemed to be contemplating something. Before you could ask him what was wrong, he spoke.

“Can we cuddle?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, as he moved towards you and the couch. “Please?”

Wordlessly, you put the laptop on the coffee table and stretched your arms out to him. He sighed in relief as he got on the couch, but instead of joining you in a hug he climbed behind you, adjusting himself to sit with you between his legs as his arms went around your waist.

“You can keep working. It’s okay.” He put your computer in your lap again before moving his arms back around your waist, hugging you tightly and nuzzling his head in your hair. He pressed his cheek against your shoulder as you placed one of your hands over his arms.

The whole day had been nothing but an endless array of disappointments. As always, whenever they had to go somewhere overseas, their team had sat Namjoon and the band down to go over every little thing, from schedules to style to things they needed to emphasize in the interviews. It was always the same and it always made his head spin. The overload of information was dizzying, and all he wanted was to fall asleep in your arms.

Not to mention the last meeting he had to sit in with his CEO. That was what was bothering him the most.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not yet… just need you.” He cuddled in further, letting out another content sigh as your scent engulfed him. Namjoon hated that he was being this needy but today was beyond frustrating for him, he was exhausted. Spending the whole day putting on a smile and being alert was tough on him. Although he was pretty extroverted, the past few days of filming and your weird dismissal of his non-proposal had taken a toll on him. He chuckled silently to himself at the fact that although his worries included you, you were the balm he needed for them.

“Do you know what I love about you?” he said after fifteen minutes of silence, alerting you to the fact that despite your suspicions, he was still awake.

“My ass?” you joked, turning a little in his grip to look at him as he rested his face against your shoulder. He scrunched his nose in annoyance at your question, before pulling back a little to look at you, his words flurried.

“No… I mean, yes, your ass is fantastic and I’m going to beg you till the end of time to let me fuck it, like fuck, baby do you know -”

“Joonie, you’re getting sidetracked,” you interrupted with a kiss on his cheek.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, settling back on your shoulder, his hands playing with yours on your lap. “I love that you don’t ask questions.”

“What?” you asked, a little defensive, considering that you thought you asked too many questions.

“No… I mean when I’m feeling needy and make demands like for you to cuddle me while you’re working, or for you to make me your noodles, you just do it, no questions asked. And I… I really appreciate you for that. For supporting me, even when I don’t have the energy to support myself.” He emphasized his point with a kiss on your cheek, his words making you a little flushed.

“Joon… I’ll always be here for you, whatever you need,” you said, turning on your side so your legs were on top of one of his on the couch. You hugged him, his head trapped under your chin on your chest as your arms wrapped around his neck.

“I know, and just… I love you. I love you a lot and thank you. Thank you for being here for me even when I’m a shit boyfriend,” he mumbled against your shirt, his arms squeezing you against him.

“You’re never a shit boyfriend, baby. And don’t thank me, this is why we’re together right? To be here for each other, for whatever we need.” You ran your fingers through his hair, massaging the scalp in a way that made him groan. He could feel his stress melting away at your touch, his body feeling like softened butter as he relaxed.

“So, if I said I need to fu-”

“Wow. You must be feeling better, I guess I can stop cuddling you.” You rolled your eyes, pretending to get off the couch. Before you could move, Namjoon’s arms tightened, pulling you even closer as he pleaded in your ear, his lips tickling your cheeks.

“No no no! Sorry. Please don’t leave. I’ll stop talking about how amazing your ass is.”

“I mean it is pretty great.”

“The greatest!” he proclaimed, before the two of you broke into giggles, relaxing against each other as your speakers played some calming instrumental music that you usually reserved for when you were working.

You hummed along as you continued to run your fingers through his hair, the longest it had been since you met him, the ashy grey strands still soft despite being dry from over-bleaching. The silence felt comforting, as if the two of you were bathing in it. It rolled over your bodies, relaxing your muscles as it cascaded around you, a content calm.

“I think I’m ready to talk,” Namjoon said after a while, not willing to move from where he was nestled in your embrace. He heaved a heavy sigh before continuing. “They gave us the dates for the next tour.”

“When is it?” You bit your lip, your heart starting to beat faster. You always hated being away from him. Although the two of you had a lot of practice with long distance, it never meant that it got any easier.

“End of this year. For three hundred and twenty days,” he replied, finally looking up at you with a frown that only deepened when he saw a matching one on your face.

“No breaks?”

“Some breaks. Short ones. I know it’s like half a year away but I’m sad. I don’t wanna leave you for so long,” he lamented, his voice breaking a little as the stress from the day caught up to him, his exhaustion manifesting as moisture in his eyes.

You placed your hand on his cheek, meeting his lips with yours, and he lost himself for a moment, his mind clearing as he relished in being in your arms.

“Hey. We’ll get through it. We’ll facetime, I’ll come to as many shows as I can. I’ll match when I’m in Japan and Canada with your tour. We can do it,” you spoke with conviction and Namjoon couldn’t help but feel a little pathetic at crying over something so routine. He hid his face in your neck, kissing the skin gently.

“I’ll miss you so much. I already miss you and you’re right here.”

“Baby it’s more than six months away. Stop overthinking,” you shushed him, pulling away from him a little to wipe his face, and he took the opportunity to kiss you, a slow sensual kiss shared only to feel each other, without the expectation of escalation.

“I know. I just want you close to me,” he murmured, his forehead against yours.

“If I was any closer I’d be literally under your skin,” you joked.

“Mmm I’d like that.” He kissed you again as you giggled at his antics

“Yeah you want me to get under your skin? Don’t I annoy you enough without you requesting it?” you said, pushing him away a little.

“Lame! Come closer,” he demanded playfully, wrapping you in his arms again as he swayed a little to the music, enjoying the quiet moment.

“Sleep time?” you asked after he yawned.

“You think you could piggy back me?” he joked, only to start flailing when you took the opportunity to quickly jump off his lap to attempt to pick him up. “Babe I was kidding! You’re gonna drop me!” he protested, a leg in the air as you huffed trying your best to lift him from the couch.

“Oh my god! Why are you so heavy?” you groaned, and he laughed falling backwards on the couch and taking you with him, his earlier stress forgotten as the two of you giggled.

Morning came too soon. Bright and early, your alarm started playing My Chemical Romance - you both were going through a nostalgic emo phase. What a way to welcome a busy Sunday morning. The two of you groaned as you cuddled closer, wanting nothing more than to laze around but knowing that you had less than an hour to reach Harry’s house for an early brunch, made you roll out of bed and into the shower. Trust Harry to name breakfast early brunch just because it was a Sunday.

To be completely honest, Namjoon really didn’t want to go. He wanted to stay in and cuddle. The upcoming six months felt like a ticking time bomb of sorts, and with him going away again next week, even if just for a short five days, he felt like he needed to spend every free moment together. He didn’t care what the two of you did, he just wanted to hold you close. Perhaps it was the schedule of long, grueling practices that was handed to him yesterday, or maybe it was how his therapist had reminded him to hold onto things that meant something to him recently, but he felt extra clingy.

However, despite his earlier begrudging, the brunch was actually fun. He had forgotten how well Harry and Jen meshed with the two of you. Conversations were easy, almost carefree. The slight pout on Namjoon’s face all morning had lifted and that made you feel better. You hated pushing him to do things he didn’t want to, but you had been delaying Harry’s invites for two weeks now, and you owed it to your best friend to have a few mimosas. You watched as your boyfriend and Harry laughed at a meme, mimicking it with silly faces as the pitcher of drinks dwindled. It felt comforting, being with your favourite people.

While the men bonded over a show they both had recently watched, Jen and you talked about her annoying supervisor. Jen worked in fashion marketing. Having uprooted her life in Canada to move here for Harry, she had initially had a tough time finding a job and settled for a fairly entry level position despite her graduate degree and past experience. She was someone who took initiative and hated her slightly sexist supervisor who kept telling her to stay in her lane, or worse--taking credit for her ideas. She was passionately discussing another instance of him writing her up for setting up a new way to track their social media analytics when you noticed that she was the only one talking at the table. You smiled at Harry as a way to encourage him to talk to Namjoon, but your boyfriend seemed to be interested in Jen’s rant, adding occasional comments. It warmed your heart to see him genuinely taking an interest.

“Darling, chill. You’ve been talking their ears off about this guy.” Harry chuckled as he looked at Jen. “Y/N already knows how much you hate him, and I’m guessing Namjoon too, by now. You talk too much.”

What was meant as a playful remark didn’t seem to be taken as such when Jen glared at him, crossing her arms and abruptly shutting up. Ah, you knew things would get awkward, especially since the pitcher of mimosa was running low. Although Harry and Jen had an almost perfect relationship, having been together for over nine years, every time Harry got tipsy he found some way to get on her nerves. Case and point.

“Well this happened on Friday, they don’t know about this.” She scowled in his direction, shrugging his arm from around her shoulders. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Namjoon stiffen, not used to their usual bickering. You placed your hand on his thigh, squeezing gently and using all your telepathy to signal to him that this was not a big deal - ah, the downsides of dating an empath.

Before it could get too annoying, you decided to mediate. “Harry, stop being rude and apologize to your wife,” you chided, watching Jen look smugly at her husband who was sputtering about being cornered. Jen continued gloating till Harry accepted defeat.

“Sorry, my beautiful wife,” he sang, as she rolled her eyes. “Even though you’re not mad at me, but your hormones are,” he continued, causing Jen to groan in response.

“Honey! You ruined the surprise!” she whined, as Namjoon and you looked at each other, dumbfounded. However, the gears in your brain started turning as you put together how Jen hadn’t touched any alcohol, how Harry was being weirdly overprotective of her all day, and how she seemed to have gained a little bit of weight.

“Holy shit! Are you guys pregnant?” you yelled, jumping up from your seat, knocking it over behind you in a loud crash that was ignored as you ran to the other side of the table pulling Jen into a hug, the two of you jumping up and down.

It was a flurry of congratulations and hugs, as the expecting couple showed you pictures of ultrasounds and Pinterest boards of the plans for their nursery. You felt excited for your friends, albeit a bit weirded out. These were the first close friends of yours who were expecting a child and it made you question your mortality a little. Were you all really old enough to be having kids? To be moulding lives? Somehow, despite your insistence that you were all pretty young, you supposed it wasn’t that odd for them to plan a family - isn’t that what long term couples in their late twenties did?

You watched Namjoon as he cooed over the black and white blob in the photograph, his eyes shining with excitement, wondering whether he was envious. You weren’t an idiot, you had seen his interviews and his baby shoes, not to mention the amount of pictures he had shared of toddlers in cute outfits to you over Instagram. Namjoon had full blown baby fever, but you knew that not only was it too soon for the two of you to take that step - it was even too soon for marriage! - but it was too soon for you to even think about getting pregnant. You felt a little panicked wondering if that was what your boyfriend expected to happen soon.

Your reverie was broken by Harry, asking to talk to you in private, and you gladly took the interruption to follow him to his office. You leaned against the table, smiling gently at the pictures that adorned the wall next to it - pictures of him and Jen on their first date, his family, the two of you sitting in your dorm room exhausted after officially launching your company. Your smile widened at a newer photo you hadn’t seen before, one of you and your friends at their last party, all of you pulling odd faces. It was the only picture that contained Namjoon and you felt a little touched that he was up on Harry’s wall.

“Hey, you know you’re my best friend, right?” Harry started, a little timidly, pulling your attention away from the photographs. He seemed a little nervous and you wondered if you were being asked to be a godmother. With a little coaxing and joking around, he told you what was on his mind, but it wasn’t the happy news you were thinking of.

“I think we’re going to move back,” he said gently, trying to gauge your response with furrowed brows, but all you could do was stare at him.

“But you can’t be COO from Toronto, Harry,” you said with an air of desperate playfulness that was lost once you saw the corner of his lips pull up in a sad smile.

“I’m sorry, but I’ll still be here to support you and listen to your rants,” he assured, walking closer to you, but all you could do is step back. You knew rationally that it made sense for him to move back - he probably wanted his child to be close to his grandparents and to give Jen a reprieve from her terrible work environment but no matter how much you tried to convince yourself all you could feel was betrayal. Betrayal and abandonment.

“I’ll tell the board myself at the next meeting. I’ll make sure there’s no trouble for you,” he explained, knowing the look on your face, but you could barely hear him over the anxiety you felt pumping in your veins.

“I need to go home,” you said a little robotically as you made your way out of his office, Harry trailing behind you.

“Come on, bub, don’t be like that. Stay. Let’s talk,” he insisted.

“Namjoon, we’re leaving,” you called to your boyfriend who just looked at you, confusion marring his features as you marched out of the house.

Uttering a distracted goodbye and apology to the hosts, Namjoon followed you to the car trying to figure out how the atmosphere has taken such a drastic 180, his thoughts fighting against wanting to protect you and giving his friends the benefit of the doubt.

“What happened?” Namjoon asked once the two of you were back in the car. Despite your best efforts, you looked distraught. He could see it in the way your frown deepened as you lost yourself in your thoughts. When he repeated his question, you finally looked up at him, mouth pressed close and brows furrowed.

“Yellow,” you said simply, and Namjoon's heart felt like it dropped to his stomach. He knew it had to be something truly devastating if you didn’t want to talk about it yet. Even though every instinct in his body told him to prod further, he respected you enough to let it go for the moment, moving closer to you and wrapping his arms around you.

To his dismay, you shrugged him off, moving next to the door, your eyes fixed on the passing scenery. You barely spared him a glance, crossing your arms when he reached for your hand. You were aware that you were probably hurting his feelings, but you knew that if he tried to comfort you right now, you would break, shatter into a million pieces, and you didn’t have the strength to deal with it right now.

Walking into the apartment, you didn’t feel much better. All you could think was that you were alone. Even though Namjoon was next to you, you felt as if you were standing on the edge of an icy mountain, the wind whipping through you like lashes that would leave permanent scars. You didn’t want to think about tomorrow. You didn’t want to think about how, in a moment, Harry had left you behind to deal with the chaos that his departure would inevitably bring. You just didn’t want to think.

Taking a deep breath, you looked at Namjoon standing in the kitchen, getting a glass of water, undoubtedly for you and you felt your heart inflate. Running up to him, you draped your arms around him and crashed your lips onto his. If he was startled by your sudden bout of affection, he didn’t let it show. Instead he held you just as tightly, matching the vigour of your lips as his tongue dominated yours.

“Please, Joonie,” you pleaded, not wanting to stop, yet not knowing what you were asking for.

“Tell me what you need,” Namjoon asked, his lips tracing your cheeks as his hands pulled you impossibly closer. “Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you anything you want.”

His words brought a lump to your throat and you couldn’t help kissing him again, pouring your love and gratitude into his lips. When you broke apart, he was cupping your face, looking at you with such devotion that you averted your gaze. You didn’t want his soft touches, you wanted him to punish you for pushing him away. Punish you for being the stupid person that relied so heavily on another. For being scared and weak. And so you asked for just that.

When Namjoon heard your plea to be punished, he felt out of his depth. He didn’t want to cause you more pain, the anguish on your face was giving him pause. He knew that you often disguised your emotions, using sex as an outlet to make yourself let go. He didn’t want to spank you as you were begging but he also didn’t want to let you down, and so he kissed you - stopping your pleas to indulge you.

“Please, I don’t want to think anymore. Just wanna be good for you,” you said, your desperation dripping from your words and how you clutched the front of his shirt, wrinkling the cotton under your grip. And Namjoon had no other choice but to please you, help you forget your worries. He knew what you needed to not think, to forget about your worries, so he gave in to his own need - need to make you feel safe and taken care of.

He broke your kiss to turn you around, his lips trailing down your neck as he suckled the skin, his hands wrapping around your waist to pull you closer as an idea formed in his head. “My sweet girl,” he muttered as he felt you relax against him, letting him take over like you always did. His hands trailed up your stomach, leaving goosebumps as they pulled the hem of your shirt with them, and he relished your little moan at his praise. His lips reached your ear, nibbling at the skin as he spoke, his voice gravelly.

“I’m not gonna spank, today,” he said, ignoring your whine with a harsh nip at your ear that made you melt. “I’m in charge… I’ll punish you how I want, isn't that right?” He punctuated his question with a hand on your neck, using it to make you look up to him. When you nodded, your eyes big, he kissed you, languidly caressing your tongue with his, tasting the mimosas from earlier.

“You wanna be my good girl but not talk?” he asked, his tone a little harsher than he wanted, but it only made you want him more. Turning around, you murmured a little apology that was quickly swallowed by his lips as he pulled you closer by the grip on your ass, massaging the flesh in a way that made your chest warm.

“I won’t punish you for whatever’s in your silly head right now, but I’ll punish you if you make another sound, understood?”

“But-”

Your protest was cut short by him nipping at your lower lip, pulling the flesh in a taunt that silenced you. “That’s one, baby,” he chided with a kiss to your swollen lip.

“I’m sorry,” you answered, voice meek, realizing your mistake as he clicked his tongue in reprimand, his hands cupping your face. You looked oddly innocent, your face looking younger as you stared at him with big eyes and pouty lips, and he couldn’t help kissing you again, softly pulling your lips between his.

“Two. Not another sound, pretty girl,” he reminded you, his thumbs tracing your cheekbones. “Now go to our room, strip, fold your clothes and then stand in the middle. Eyes closed, hands behind your back. Understood?”

His voice was harsh, commanding and you couldn’t help nodding in response. He kissed you at that, before letting you go, patting your behind to get you moving. You felt as if you were in a daze, your body moving at its own accord, following his instructions without hesitation. Soon, you were in your room naked and blinded, waiting for him.

You didn’t know how long he would take, but you trusted him, your body vibrating with anticipation. However, the silence was daunting, and you were once again left with your thoughts, dread for tomorrow swirling within you, making your breaths shallower and your heart race. You felt stupid for being so scared, so anxious about something as mundane as a resignation, but then again, Harry wasn’t just some employee. He was your best friend, someone who had been through the trenches with you. Someone who had seen you at your worst and still decided to believe in you. Someone who was now leaving you behind. If he could leave, couldn’t everyone else too? Like Namjoon. What was stopping him from stepping out of your life just as easily?

“I didn’t tell you to think, now did I?” Namjoon asked, his chest molded to your back, as he ran a finger up your arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake and breaking you out of your spiral. His lips were back on your neck, his favourite place, and you had to actively stop yourself from moaning at his reverent touches.

A resolve that was quickly broken when you felt something cold caress the side of your chest. You gasped loudly, your hands holding on to his thighs and eyes fluttering open to see his fingers holding an ice cube, delicately tracing the melting crystal around the curve of your breast. The sensation was new, making you shake a little in his hold as he used his other hand to warm the trail of cold water it left behind.

“Three. You’re forgetful today, huh?” he said, playfully, watching the way your nipples hardened as he trailed the icicle over them. He could hear your breaths get heavier, your face relaxing as you closed your eyes again, a stark contrast to how you seemed on the verge of a meltdown when he arrived earlier. He was glad to give you the reprieve in his arms, kissing your cheek as he watched your furrowed brows dissolve.

He let the ice melt as he traced it around your torso till it was merely water glistening on your skin. Moving around your body, he let his lips move from your shoulders to your chest, capturing your nipple between them and lapping at it with his tongue.

It was tantalizing. Your knees almost buckled at the sensation as you used every bit of willpower to ensure your hands remained behind your back and your lips sealed. You dug your fingernails into your forearm as he repeated the action on your other nipple, his hands firmly holding your waist so you couldn’t feel anything other than his lips and the way his hair gently tickled your skin at every suckle.

He moved away, giving you a break, before gently commanding you to get on your knees, guiding you slowly till you were sitting on your heels. His fingers cupped your face before he kissed you again, igniting stars behind your eyelids as you lost yourself in him. All you could feel was his touch as he stroked your hair when he stood up, the anticipation making you wetter as you pressed your thighs together. He saw your action, and using his foot, he ensured your legs were far apart, not granting you any relief. You almost whined, but you remembered your rules, biting your lip instead.

“Open your eyes, baby,” he said, his hand cupping your jaw and thumb releasing your lip from between your teeth. When you followed his command you were rewarded by your boyfriend, completely naked as he stood in front of you. You couldn’t help your eyes tracing over him, from his strong shoulders to his defined pecs that sloped into a taut stomach with lines leading to his almost hard dick, only inches away from your face.

You didn’t think about waiting for any more instructions, your mouth moving towards him of its own accord. Your tongue traced his length, before you suckled on his tip, enjoying the way he sighed. His hand brushed lightly at your scalp as you took him in deeper, feeling him inflate in your mouth as you started bobbing your head ever so slightly.

You wanted to moan at the way his taste erupted on your tongue, the way his cock twitched between your lips, but you wanted to be good for him, give him everything he wanted, so you kept quiet, your hands itching behind you to run up his legs. You looked up at him, when his other hand joined your hair, his touch still gentle, and you relaxed your throat taking him deeper, loving how he bit his lip as you swallowed.

He groaned, his grip in your hair getting tighter and you slid back, resting your ass on your feet to start moving down his length faster, taking him deeper with each slide as he finally deciphered your blown pupils and wide eyes and rocked his hips. It started slow, but soon he was fucking your face, your spit drooling down your lips at each stroke, making him more feral. You closed your eyes, letting his hands and grunts guide you as you concentrated on not moaning in ecstasy.

“Look at me, sweet baby,” he cooed, and you were greeted by his face etched in focus as a bead of sweat dripped down his brow. He looked incredible, his forearms flexed as he moved his hips that you couldn’t help moaning as he fucked you, watching the way he smirked in response.

“Four, baby,” he tsked. He moaned loudly as you sucked harder in revenge, your tongue tracing his length inside your mouth as he pulled back. He was trying to hold back, to make himself last longer, but with the way your face twisted in bliss as he let go he couldn’t help increasing his pace.

“Swallow it all. Be my good girl,” he grunted as he felt your throat tickle his tip, his stomach jolting and clenching as he came closer to his end. You sat with your mouth open, your tongue hanging out and Namjoon had never felt so lucky. He stroked his cock a few times before he was cumming into your awaiting mouth, out of breath.

You showed him his cum resting on your tongue before swallowing, the bittersweet taste making you roll your eyes back as you beamed at him. He giggled, his heart turning into fluff at how your hands were still behind your back, and he bent down to kiss you. He moved your hands to his shoulders as you sighed in his mouth in relief, pulling him closer.

You could make out with him for hours, your sore knees and worries forgotten as his tongue played with yours and he grabbed your ass. You didn't even feel him stand up, but soon you were being lifted and dropped on the bed, his body resting over yours as he continued to kiss you. He broke away when you could feel the air in your lungs running out, his hand cupping his face as he slotted his knee between your legs. You couldn’t help but grind against it, your breath hitching at how the slight touch made you quiver. He hadn’t even touched you and you were dripping against him.

“You did so good, lovely,” he said softly, pecking your nose, and you felt your heart inflate, just wanting to be wrapped in his embrace forever. You wrapped your hands and legs around him, pulling him to you as he fell with a little huff, chuckling at your actions and kissing your neck. It felt odd being so needy for him, but you couldn’t help it. You wanted to drown in him, to have him engulf you till all you could think or breathe was him. He let you indulge, leaving little bruises where his lips trailed over your chest, as you felt your skin heat up, your hips canting gently against his thigh. It was magical. It was overwhelming.

You whined as he detangled your limbs, moving your hands behind the small of your back as he laved over your nipples, making you needier. He travelled down your body, leaving a trail of kisses that shone in the dim light of your room, his hair tickling you and making goosebumps erupt. With each gentle touch, your breaths became heavier - your lust increasing, leaving your mind in a haze.

“Five,” he reprimanded and you felt a sudden bout of guilt. You couldn’t do anything right today, could you? Not even follow his simple instructions. All you had to do was keep quiet and you couldn’t even manage that. Why would Namjoon even bother being with you when you couldn’t even please him in bed, the bare minimum of a relationship?

You had barely noticed the way you stilled, getting lost in your thoughts again, but Namjoon saw the way your face dropped, your lip wobbling a little, and it broke his heart. He moved back to your face, his fingers tracing your features slowly till your eyes were on him. He kissed you gently, letting his love flow to you, hoping to take away all of your worries.

“Stay with me, Y/N,” he whispered, kissing your cheek, stroking your scalp. “Is it too hard to be quiet?” he asked, and you nodded despite desperately wanting not to disappoint him. He smiled at you, kissing you again. “That’s okay, baby. We can take that away. You can speak, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, averting your gaze, and he just gave you a gentle dismissive hum, holding your chin and kissing you deeply. You left your hands behind your back even though you wanted to hold him, instead arching into him. He took the hint, his hands roaming down your body as he pulled your hands from under you and around him, his own encompassing you tightly.

He didn’t want to punish you anymore. He just wanted you to feel good, take away the rare frailty that seemed to drown you, and praise you, worship you. Initially he planned to edge you, knowing how much you enjoyed being kept on your toes, wanting to turn you into a needy mess, but the way you were apologizing and clinging to him didn’t sit right with him. He just wanted to please you, vanish the thoughts that were haunting you and make you happy again.

Bracing his weight on his forearm under you, he let his free hand roaming down your body without breaking the kiss. His fingers met your wet folds and you jolted, a mewl escaping your lips, as he ran his fingers over your slit slowly, teasing you.

He traced circles on your clit and he moved his lips away from yours to watch you, increasing his pace as your face contorted in pleasure. Your hips started moving on their own as you lost yourself in the feel of him, feeling so small under his hold.

When a finger entered you, you moaned, pleading for more, and he obliged with a sloppy peck to your cheek. His fingers started moving faster, each thrust lighting you up in ecstasy as he whispered how well you were doing for him.

“Please… Joonie… gonna cum if you don’t stop,” you whimpered, looking at him with glassy eyes, and he just smiled, his dimples deepening in affection.

“Then cum, my pretty girl,” he said, his thumb on your clit making you lose your senses as galaxies exploded inside you, making you forget anything other than his touch as you writhed under him.

He slowed his movements, never stopping as you came down from your high. You moaned as you got more sensitive but he didn’t stop, relishing the way your walls fluttered around his digits as he hit that spot within you that made your limbs tremble.

He moved his body to your side and used the hand under you to curl you towards him, capturing your lips in another searing kiss that left you scrambling for him, nails digging into his side and shoulder.

“That’s one. Count and say thank you,” he muttered, his fingers still driving in you, palm on your clit making shockwaves run through your legs as they tightened around his hand.

“One. Thank you, Joonie,” you moaned, your back arching as he slowly picked up the speed, and your hands took purchase in the long hair on the nape of his neck.

“That’s my girl,” he praised with a kiss on your cheek. “My best girl. My smart baby. Four more for being so good for me, okay?”

His words sent a warmth through you, tinged with a slight dread for your throbbing cunt. His mixture of adoration and control made your nerves go haywire, amplified by how he picked up the pace and took your nipple between his lips, his tongue flicking the nub as he sucked on it. The combination was enough to light you up once again, pushing you off the cliff as you spasmed under his hold, mewling his name.

“Two. Thank you.”

You could barely hear his reply over your pounding heart, feeling like your nerves were frayed. You felt like you were floating, his lips making their way down your body till they latched on your clit, repeating the actions of his mouth on your nipple. Your chest was heaving at the onslaught of sensations racing through you, your exhales turning into whines as he continued his ministrations. You fisted the bedsheets next to you, pulling the silky material as your hips rutted against his face, oversensitivity turning your legs to jelly.

The third time he made you cum, it was like reaching nirvana, an out of body experience that drenched the sheets and made you sob. His fingers were ruthless as they pistoned in and out of you, turning you limbless as you clenched around them, your pussy sucking them in like your life depended on it. Your voice was hoarse when you screamed your gratitude, tears streaking your face. Namjoon spoke but you were lost in the bittersweet pleasure, unable to comprehend anything other than the way his expert touch brought an onslaught of a tingling pain that left you panting.

“Y/N. Colour?” he said, louder this time, his fingers stilling as he climbed over you to check on you, waiting for you to calm down.

“Green,” you sighed, cupping his face and kissing him so fiercely he felt as if you would devour him whole. “Want your cock, Joonie. Please… fuck me… please,” you pleaded, and he had no choice then to give in to your sweet voice and sweeter touches.

His cock replaced his fingers, the stretch making your eyes roll back into your skull as you held him close. He slowly filled you and your pussy fluttered around him, too sensitive but all too needy for more. He kissed you just as he thrust into you for the first time and you couldn’t help leaving scratches on his back.

“So good. Please, Joonie,” you whined, teeth on his bicep as his forearms landed next to your head and he started a hard and slow pace. With every stroke you could feel the pain ebbing into euphoria. Your tears continued as you mouthed at his neck, the salty taste of his sweat leaving you wanting more, pulling him closer till his face was buried next to yours, his little grunts and raspy moans in your ear sending you higher. You nails scratched down his back to his ass and you groped at the flesh as he went impossibly deep, his hips slamming into your faster now, pulling you closer and closer to the cusp.

“Four! Thank you, daddy!” you screamed once you came again, holding on to him like your life depended on it. You didn’t know why you used the moniker that you had once laughed at him for. Perhaps you wanted to do it for him as a thank you for the way he was pulling you towards new heights of pleasure. Perhaps it was because you had never felt safer than you did with his large body drowning yours. All you knew was that it felt perfect in the moment. Too perfect not to moan it into the air as his face moved from your hair to look at you, his skepticism fading with each one of your repetitions and melting into the way he fucked into you with vigour.

“Daddy’s good little girl,” he groaned as your pussy tightened around him, holding on to the edge of his sanity as he gritted his teeth. He hadn’t expected you to ever call him the elusive word of his fantasies, and the way you looked at him with wet lashes and bruised lips was bringing him to his end faster than he wanted.

He still wanted you to cum one last time, to let go for him so he could fill you up. With a kiss, he brought his hand back to your clit, ignoring the way you jolted and yelped. He wanted you to be exhausted, so satiated that your earlier worries would disappear.

“Last one, baby. You going to give it to me?” he questioned, his lips missing yours and landing on your cheek as he tried to keep some semblance of control, his dick twitching inside you.

“Yes, daddy,” you whimpered, your pussy raw from his hard thrusts and rough circling of your clit. Your legs started shaking first, then your arms as you lost yourself under the wave again, a pitiful, high pitched whine escaping your lips. This orgasm felt more forced than the others, the rough pain prickling at the edges as you rode it, but all you wanted was more.

He delivered, his movements becoming sloppier but faster as he followed you, jumping head first straight into his own orgasm, filling you up, and collapsing on you. Your ears buzzed as the two of you caught your breath, hair plastered to your forehead with sweat. Namjoon was eager to fulfil the role you had granted him, wanting to rush to the bathroom to clean you up and take care of you, regardless of how his legs were trembling. However, he had barely moved an inch when you were scrambling to him, just like you had earlier, desperately holding him close.

“Don’t leave me,” you weeped, crying into his shoulder as you held him tightly, not even letting him pull out. “Please, don’t leave me!”

“I’m not leaving you. I’m here,” he assured, hugging you to him and soothingly running his hand on your skin. Namjoon didn’t know what was happening, he just wanted to quell your tears, make the anguish in your tone disappear. He sat up, holding you to his chest, as you still clung to him, sobbing loudly. He whispered “I love you”s, stroking your hair to calm down your shaking.

You didn’t know how long you cried, but by the end your eyes were puffy and your throat felt like it held razor blades, but he held you throughout, helping you forget your baseless insecurities and covering you with his warmth till your tears ceased.

You sat in silence for a while, and he kissed your head periodically. Namjoon was worried. He didn’t want you to shut him out again. Your tears proved whatever was on your mind was taking a toll on you and he couldn’t imagine what could possibly be so devastating. He wordlessly coaxed you into letting him carry you to the bathroom, where he placed you under a warm shower, cleaning the two of you up.

The scent of your vanilla body wash calmed you enough to mumble weak apologies that were dismissed by your boyfriend as he held you close and dried both your bodies, letting your hair stay damp as he dressed you. When he was done with his own clothes you wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your toes to place a gentle kiss upon his lips that he reciprocated by lifting you into his arms once again. You hugged him, holding on to him, as he made his way into the kitchen.

Placing you on the breakfast island, he took out a box of strawberries from the fridge. He washed them and placed them on a plate, making his way to you. He didn’t let you lift a finger, feeding you the sweet fruit and rewarding each bite with a kiss to your forehead. You felt a bit coddled, but you couldn’t help basking in his affection. You weren’t sure why you had broken down so terribly, your anxiety for the future seemed a little silly now that the moment had passed.

When he had fed you a few strawberries, he paused, kissing your lips as he finally asked the question that was burning in his mind. He pulled up a stool, sitting in front of you, his hands landing on your hips.

“It’s dumb,” you said, running your hands on his shoulders, the soft material of his shirt feeling like velvet.

“That’s okay,” he replied, turning his head to land a kiss on your hand. “Tell me.”

And so you did. You told him about Harry leaving and your fears surrounding it - about how they had somehow led to a stagnant loneliness that made you feel as if everyone was going to leave you, too. He didn’t interrupt, letting you rant about your demons as his touch assured you.

“You know I’m never going to leave you, right?” He asked, his hands cupping your face as he looked up at you. Your eyes teared up at that, and you let one escape and he brushed it away with his thumb. “I love you. I love you so much, Y/N.”

“I love you, Joonie,” you murmured, your forehead resting against his. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, silly girl,” he chuckled, pulling you in for a gentle kiss before helping you get off the counter and leading you to your room. The two of you changed your sheets together and then got into bed, holding each other close.

“Sorry for the daddy thing,” you said sheepishly as you were about to sleep. He chuckled in response, pulling you closer to his chest and kissing you tenderly on your hair.

“Stop apologizing,” he chided. “You know how I feel about that. I was surprised, though.”

“Me too,” you giggled, hiding your face in his chest. “It felt right, though.”

“I’d be happy to be your daddy,” he joked, pulling your leg over his hip, and you couldn’t help snorting at his playful tone.

“Joonie,” you whined and he just cackled, holding you close and kissing you.

“But baby, please please don’t shut me out,” he pleaded. “I just wanna share your burden. You know I’d never judge you, right? You’re my safe space and I hope I’m yours, too.”

“You are. The safest space. I just… I’m scared.”

“It’s okay to be scared, you know?” he said, a hand on your jaw making you look up at him. “But I believe in you. Harry or not, you’re going to persevere. Because you’re the strongest person I know, Y/N.”

Although your instinct was to argue against his statement, you fought it, letting his words comfort you. Namjoon was attuned to you, however, knowing you would probably do this again, but he too let it go and just held you close, letting the sound of your breathing lull him to sleep.

True to Harry’s word, the next board meeting he had walked in with a transition plan. It was two weeks after the brunch and was the longest the two of you hadn’t talked since your friendship began. After discussing things with Namjoon, you knew you were being petty and stubborn but you still couldn’t shake off the shock of him just leaving. He was leaving the company, the country but most of all, he was leaving you.

It felt like a breakup of sorts. The two of you have been like a well-oiled machine for so long that everytime you thought about running the company without him, it felt unfathomable.

However when it rains, it pours, because your biggest shock of that month wasn’t that your business partner was leaving you, it was when Namjoon made a throwaway comment one night.

You were sitting on your coach watching some terrible new drama. His arm was around you as he went through Twitter on his phone, completely ignoring the badly written love triangle that had you on the edge of your seat.

“Babe, your stupid app’s pinging again,” he groaned as the notification popped up on his phone.

“I told you! Fix your notifications,” you grumbled, your eyes glued to the television. “I turned mine off ages ago.”

“Yeah but I like to be reminded when you’re gonna start yelling at me cause you’re PMSing,” he joked, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you shrugged him off, annoyed.

“Kim Namjoon, that is so sexist! I don’t yell at you because of PMS!” you answered with a fake smile as you turned to him. “I yell at you cause your clumsy ass keeps hurting yourself.”

“Aww, my hero,” he cooed, before turning to his phone again. “But seriously, can you update your period on this so it stops telling me you’re late everyday?”

“I’m not late,” you scoffed.

“Well according to the app, you are six days late,” he answered, rolling his eyes, oblivious to the way your face fell as you checked your own phone trying to figure out when your last period was. It couldn’t be that late, you were oddly regular. The most fluctuation you had had was maybe two days in your entire post-pubescent life.

You couldn’t help looking at Namjoon, your voice tainted with a shocked awe.

“I’m late.”

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unlikelyempathpruneauthor · 3 years ago

Text

New Beginnings

Will halstead x nurse!reader

Summary: you find out your pregnant surprising you and Will.

a/n: i literally can't stop crushing on fictional characters. This is based on the episode where April is pushed by that one guy but this happens to the reader, so yeah. Also slight inspiration from the office when Jim and Pam find out they are expecting. Hope you enjoy it! also I want to make a part two but I'm not sure lol :)

You and Will being together was a bet everyone was a part of these days. You two just had something, but you two being so oblivious had no idea. You were a great team in the ed, knowing all of his moves, and treatment plans. You were his secondhand and he couldn't be more grateful. He of course started to grow feelings for you quite fast. He just couldn't handle how smart you were and of course beautiful.

“She likes you too,” Maggie said as Will frowned, “what?” he asked as she giggled, “you know what i'm talkin about. Everyone sees how you look at her, just ask her out.” she said as he shook his head, “oh no, i'm not doing that. You don't even know if she does like me.” he said as Maggie laughed, “aha so you do like her! Finally took me months to get it out of you,” She said as Will tried to hide his smile as he nodded “okay yeah, fine i do like her, but we are colleagues, it wouldn't work out.” he said as Maggie shrugged, “you never know if you don't try.” she said walking away and leaving him alone with his thoughts.

There were moments where you two would join forces and figure out what was going on with patients. It almost looked like there were two doctors, you had a lot of knowledge in your head, sometimes you even forgot you were just a nurse.

“How do you know all this? You're smarter than me.” he said as you giggled “i just read a lot, Will, also not to brag but i was at the the top of my class. They were even surprised when it told them i would be a nurse, said i would excel in surgery.'' you said as he smiled, “well you would. Me and you make a pretty great team.” he said as you giggled getting back to your diagnosis.

These feelings he had for you of course had developed in you as well. You probably felt something for him the first time Maggie introduced you to him. You were slightly nervous, which was so obvious to Maggie. April was also in on it too, wanting you to just tell him what you were feeling.

“You know your crushes are better than the tv drama I am watching.” April said as you frowned looking at her, “what?” you asked as she giggled, “don’t play dumb with me, you like Will.” she said as you shook your head and began to blush, “no i don't, we are just friends.” you said as she shrugged, “if you say so, but i see the way he looks at you. He always chooses you to help him with patients.” she said as you sighed, “that's not true, i help Ethan too, and corner. I alternate all the time.” you said as she pulled out a tally of the times he asked you to help.

“Explain this, you can't say it's nothing because it's dated too,” she said as you laughed looking at her as if she was serious, “April, are you a nurse or a stalker.” you said as she laughed, “I'm serious, you should just tell him how you feel. He likes you back and I know it.” she said as you looked at her, “how do you know?” you said as she shook her head, “not saying, just do it.'' she said as Ethan called her over as you were left with all the tools in hand.

Months later Will had asked you out and you said yes of course. One date had turned into two, and well you were now 1 year into your relationship. Of course Maggie and April had no idea of this. You were surprisingly very secretive. They had no idea about you, nor did they suspect anything. You two did your own thing in the hospital and once you got to your apartment your hands were on one another after a day of no touching.

Once you enter your apartment, his hands were all over you as he brought you lips onto his. You smiled as you placed your hands on his hair, missing how soft it was. He missed your touch, he was so deprived. You were the only thing that kept him alive as he would like to say. Barely making it to the kitchen he placed you on the kitchen counter as you legs were on his waist as he took your shirt off and kissed you some more. He knew all your soft spots. His touch made you feel safe, no matter what. You took his shirt off as he kissed you some more as he took you to the shower, where you two caught up with the eachothers touch that you couldn't feel when working, not even a hug or kiss.

As you walked into the ed alone, Maggie had looked at you weirdly, you looked over at her and touched your face, “what is something on my face?” you asked as she shook her head, “no, you just look a little pale, you okay?” She asked as you nodded, “I feel fine, I was a little nause this morning, but I'm okay.” you said as she nodded “okay, you sure?” she asked as you nodded. You headed over to patients making sure they were all okay and stable and had everything they needed.

Just then two guys walking in caught your attention and Will’s as well, “y/n you busy?” he asked as you headed over, “I'm with you.'' you said as you were putting gloves on to see blood on the guy as you headed to treatment three.

“Alright fellas, im dr. halstead, follow me.” he said as the guy spoke, “don’t need this.” he said very slurred as the friend answered, “hey, just let him take a look.” he said as you turned around motioning him in, “im fine,” he said as you spoke, “alright come on, let's get you on this bed.” you said as he replied, “no, no, just wanna go home.” he said as he sat on the bed, “okay what happened,” Will asked as the friend answered, “we went out to party after the game, and he sees these cards fans..” he said as the guy on the bed answered, “douchebags wearing a ‘cubs suck’ shirt. Yet we won. How could we suck douchebag?” he said getting up from the bed as you placed him back, “sir sit down.'' you said as he was back on the bed and got up again, “stay on the bed.'' you said as he turned to you, “let me go!” he said as he pushed you to the side as you hit the door on your abdomen, Will quickly gave orders to the friend and to security, and was quick by your side, “you alright y/n?” He said seeing your face for any expression as all you could do was nod and bring air back into your lungs.

“Give him five of haldol.” he said as he picked you up and took you two treatment 2 so he made sure you were all fine.

“Your lungs are fine,” he said as you sighed, “okay, can i get back to work?” you said as Miss Goodwin, Maggie and April were there just to be sure you were fine, “just hold on.” Miss Goodwin said as he was examining you some more.

“Will, I'm fine.'' you said as he pushed around your abdomen, “does it hurt here?” he said as you flinched, “ow,” you said as he smiled, “okay on a scale from one to ten how bad was the pain?” he asked as you spoke softly, “three?” You said as April spoke, “That means it's seven or eight.” She said as you rolled your eyes, “I'm fine, really.”

“You're probably okay, but i would like to get a chest x-ray to be safe.” he said as you shook your head, “no way.'' you said as he became serious, “y/n, you have some pain and tenderness. A broken rib could have punctured your liver or your lung, I want to make sure you don't have a pneumothorax.'' he said as you scoffed looking over at the girls, “y/n, we don't want to see you wheeled back here in a gurney.'' Maggie said as you spoke, “guys I'm fine, you are all over acting a bit.'' you said they all eventually convinced you to do it along with some tests of course to rule out everything else that could be bad.

With your x-ray, nothing bad was seen, but Will being very cautious placed the tests in order as he waited with you. Luckly the curtain covered you two so he laid on the bed nearby, he was very worried you could tell, “Will...honey, I'm okay. The x-ray showed nothing, so it's probably nothing.” you said as he nodded “well if it's nothing, there is no harm in doing tests. I just want you to be okay.” he said as his voice grew shaky, “Will I’m not going anywhere okay? I'm here. I'm healthy.” you said as he nodded. “Yeah I know.” he said as you wiped his tears away and kissed him, “i'm here for the long haul.” you said as he smiled.

Minutes later, Natalie was back with your tests along with ob, “hey y/n, so your tests look well, nothing is wrong, however we do have some good news for you.'' she said as you frowned, “okay, why is ob with you?” you said as natalie looked at you with a smile, “well that's the good news, you are 5 weeks pregnant. Congratulations,” she said as you grew shocked, eyes widened as you smiled, “woah, really? I- um, i don't know what to say.'' you said as she smiled, “well i'm hopeful this is good news, did you want to call the father? she asked as you looked over at Will who was shocked as well.

“Uh well, actually he is in this room, he's just shocked as i am.'' you said as natalie gasped along with the ob. You weren’t sure if Will wanted kids this early in your relationship, so this was a surprise to the both of you. He then began to worry wondering if the hit you took hurt you more than it should.

“Is she okay? Are they okay? It's just they both took a hit, she got pushed and hurt her abdomen.” Will said as Natalie nodded, “well that's what we are hoping to see. There is nothing that indicates, but we wanna do an ultrasound to be sure,” she said as you both nodded.

As they showed you your small creation you were both in awe, Will was probably more excited seeing that you were pregnant. And of course now your relationship was public.

“Everything is fine, the fetus is well, and the placenta seems to be great. I'm so happy for you guys! We will give you guys some space, congratulations again!” she said as her and the ob left giving you time to process this.

Will sat beside you as he placed his hands on his face and gave your knuckles a kiss. He was filled with joy. You were having a baby, his baby.

“You okay Will?” you asked as he nodded, “yeah, i'm just, i'm gonna be a dad.” he said softly as you nodded, “yeah you are, sorry i worried you.'' you said as he shook his head, “no, the good thing is that you are both fine. y/n, you have no idea how happy i am.'' you said as you smiled as you placed his hand on your belly that would soon blossom.

“I'm happy, over the moon to be exact. I just, when she said that i worried, since maybe it's too soon.'' you said as he shook his head, “no, it's not too soon. This is our timing. Might be in the wrong order, but don't worry, I'll put that ring on your finger soon.'' you said as you blushed playfully slapping him, “im serious honey, before you know it you'll be Y/n Halstead.'' you said as you smiled, “does have a nice ring to it.'' you said as you kissed him and from afar, Maggie and the others were all happy. Maggie, being the winner of the bet, had been collecting her money. She knew it the whole time. There was no doubt you two were in love. So in love that you were starting a new life with one another. It was meant to be.

#chicago med imagines #chicago med #will halstead imagine #will halstead imagines

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findingjoynweirdstuff · 3 years ago

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Dream SMP Recap (August 4/2021) - Unhealthy Competition

Ranboo and Wilbur visit Las Nevadas to talk with Quackity about their new business. They discover that Quackity’s hired a new employee for the competing restaurant.

---

VOD LINKS:

Wilbur Soot

Tubbo

Captain Puffy

Michaelmcchill

Foolish

---

- Wilbur and Ranboo are in the Ranvan making burgers. They try them, and Wilbur says it’s the best burger he’s ever had, but they have to do even better

Wilbur: “We’re taking down an entire nation just out of this burger van, you know -- sorry, competing! Peacefully, with an entire nation, just out of this burger van.”

- Wilbur notices that Ranboo’s taken a side. Ranboo looked back after Wilbur’s talks about L’manburg, and he realized that he’s been involved in things, but he hasn’t really done anything

- Wilbur tells Ranboo he doesn’t have to build something to matter. It’s cool that he’s taking this direction, but he shouldn’t have to blow up walls just to make something

- Wilbur notices that Quackity is online and wants to see the fruits of their labor

- The two go into Las Nevadas with Quackity’s horse and Wilbur tries to get Quackity’s attention, spamming so much he gets kicked from the server. Quackity is nowhere to be seen

- Wilbur asks Ranboo a bit about the cookie outpost

- Quackity finally comes walking down the road to see them. Quackity tells them that’s not his horse

- Wilbur announces he’s been building a burger van. Quackity is amused that this is what he’s been doing all this time

- They give Quackity a burger to try. He’s not hungry

- Wilbur brings up Quackity’s restaurant and Quackity leads them over to show them. Wilbur and Ranboo left Quackity a bit of a gift. Quackity thanks them for the destruction, because he realized the non-tinted glass wasn’t as good. He even installed a fishtank full of salmon!

- Quackity even hired some new help!

Tubbo!

- This is his new job. Quackity and Tubbo had a little talk, and he found that Tubbo has aspirations in life and wanted to offer him a good job in Las Nevadas. He’s not just an employee -- he’s managing the restaurant, also making NFT Tubburgers!

- Tubbo sees it as healthy competition, good for the consumer. This is like L’manburg all over again, with Tubbo and Quackity leading together

May the best burgers win.

- Wilbur is allowed in Las Nevadas to try the burgers anytime he likes. After all, what kind of person would Quackity be if he didn’t allow someone into his country?

- Wilbur and Ranboo return to the van to talk with each other

Wilbur: “I feel alive, Ranboo! I feel alive! Someone’s looking at me and -- and talking to me! I’m alive, I’m alive! This is great!”

- Ranboo is still getting used to the competition. Wilbur doesn’t get why Ranboo would mind going up against Quackity and Tubbo

- Ranboo shows him over to the strip club with his secret hole in the floor. Wilbur suggests they build a tunnel underground, do some espionage

Wilbur: “We’re the good guys here, you know, we’re--”

Ranboo: “You sure?”

Wilbur: “Yeah, I mean, we haven’t done anything wrong, you know. We’re the good guys, and Quackity’s done a few things wrong.”

- They go back outside. In case of an emergency, when they’re head-to-head with Tubbo and Quackity, Wilbur needs to know they can save the innocent people in the city like Tubbo and Fundy

- Wilbur discusses a plan with Ranboo to rig the underground of the city with TNT connected up to a button. In most cases, it would never see the light of day

- Wilbur leaves Ranboo to the TNT

- Tubbo and Quackity talk in the restaurant. Quackity thinks Tubbo is the best choice of employee for the place, and Tubbo needed a new purpose

- Quackity doesn’t want to ruin the moment, but they have to discuss their brief conflict. They go over to the outpost

- Quackity asks what it was really for. Tubbo just wanted to see what everyone was up to. Quackity feels a little uneasy about it still

- Quackity suggests they integrate this land as a part of Las Nevadas. Tubbo is onboard with the idea, and Quackity wants to make it official with a document

- They go up to the top of the Needle to review the contract:

---

TUBBO COOKIE OUTPOST PROPERTY IS NOW PART OF LAS NEVADAS LAND AND IS UNDER ITS RULES AND CONSTITUION.

COORDS:

[TO BE INSERTED]

Signed: - Tubbo_

---

- Tubbo’s been missing L’manburg now that it’s the time of its anniversary, and he admires what Quackity’s done here

- Tubbo wants to scope out Wilbur and Ranboo’s burger shop alone. He leaves Quackity at the Needle

- Tubbo arrives at the Ranvan and Ranboo is there. Tubbo asks him why he trusts Wilbur. Ranboo doesn’t trust trust him yet

- Ranboo thinks that in thirteen years, Wilbur must have changed, and if he can redeem himself, Ranboo can be there to see it

- Tubbo understands, but he doesn’t want to put his life in Wilbur’s hands again. Ranboo asks if he’s okay with all this, and he says he is

- Foolish logs on

- Tubbo noticed that Ranboo hasn’t told Wilbur about the marriage. Ranboo heard enough about Wilbur of thirteen years ago using things against people, and so he doesn’t trust him enough yet to tell him. Ranboo avoids eye contact while they talk

- Ranboo asks how Tubbo managed to bury the hatchet with Quackity over the Festival. Tubbo thinks he was going to die that day no matter what happened anyway

- They talked a lot about L’manburg. L’manburg was amazing, and Ranboo’s only heard about the bad bits. They came to an agreement about the cookie outpost

- Ranboo learns that Tubbo gave up the cookie outpost to become property of Las Nevadas. Tubbo insists it’s not like that and he still owns it

- Ranboo changes the subject and goes to throw stale bread into the river. He tells Tubbo he’ll talk to him later and says goodbye

- Tubbo walks away on his own. Now he’ll come up with some good burger recipes

- He runs right into Quackity. Tubbo is late for work at the burger shop

- Quackity starts ranting

Quackity: “When Wilbur sees this, because I know he’s gonna be fuckin’ like, spying around, when Wilbur sees this shit? He’s gonna freak out, he’s gonna finally realize--”

Tubbo: “--Why do you care so much about what Wilbur's doing?”

Quackity: “--He’s an idiot, he’s an idiot for doing whatever it is he decided to do!”

- Quackity builds a Tubburger sign out front for the restaurant

- They go inside and Quackity wants Tubbo to try Wilbur’s burgers

- They do need competition at the end of the day. Tubbo meets Quackity in the kitchen to discuss his three-step program. They can use smokers to make smoked burgers. They need better grain supplies

- Quackity shows Tubbo the farms. They also need to clean the kitchen of gunk. Quackity had a friend living there for a while

- They return to the kitchen to come up with more burger names

- One of the salmon dies. They go silent for a moment, then Quackity eats it raw

- Tubbo shows Quackity the book on the lectern. Quackity is annoyed by it, assuming that it was written by Wilbur

- They mention the explosion. They’re going to be bigger and better, and they won’t resort to sabotage

- Quackity’s going to go up to his office for his lunch break, count his money, and then he’ll come back down and tell everyone to help with the farms

- Quackity leaves with stomach issues from the fish as Sam logs on

- Tubbo goes back to the kitchen to come up with recipes, happy to have a job

- Puffy goes back to the main area to work on the Pokemon center and discovers Foolish’s bamboo prank, cleaning it up

- She then works on building the Pokemon center

- Michael logs on for a birthday stream!

- Foolish logs on as well, aiming to expand the Las Nevadas highways some more

- Foolish meets up with Michael and drops him some Netherite ingots as a birthday present

- Foolish returns to Las Nevadas. He’s been thinking about how Quackity told him not to break Dream out, but he’s pondering coming up with something prepared as a backup anyways, as it’s always good to have other plans

- He keeps working on the highways

---

Upcoming Events:

- Wilbur’s 9 planned streams

- Egg Finale Stream [maybe soon...maybe...]

- Tales From the SMP: “Space Race”

- Ponk’s prequel stream

- Ponk’s current-day lore with Sam

- Puffy’s Lore Cast

- Sapnap’s lore

- Dream’s lore video

- Quackity’s casino opening

- Captain Puffy’s lore stream

#dream smp #dream smp recaps #long post #long posts

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thephantomessoftheopera · 3 years ago

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Notes on Gaston Leroux‘s „The Phantom of the Opera“ - Epilogue

<< Previous chapter “It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known”

-Charles Dickens, “A Tale of Two Cities”

As we are coming to the end of the story, Leroux ties up a few more loose ends in the epilogue.

As for Raoul and Christine, their possible happy ending is only implied by what Erik told the Persian - that they had “taken a northbound train” and were planning to get married in secret. They have disappeared from the world, and Christine never appeared again on stage anywhere. According to Leroux, they might have finally settled in Norway together with Mama Valerius. At first, I thought Leroux might have been confusing Sweden and Norway, but when I did a little research on the name „Daae“, it turns out that the name is actually most prevalent in Norway, with almost no occurrences in Sweden. It is also implied that even if they took that “northbound” train before, Christine took a train back to Paris a few weeks later to return to Erik, because she had the wedding ring on her when she left, and it was finally found on Erik‘s finger.

As Philippe‘s death was deemed to be the consequence of the fight between the two brothers over Raoul’s supposed engagement to Christine, Raoul was a murder suspect - but as his previous testimony had already made him appear a lunatic in the eyes of the Commissary, Philippe‘s death was ultimately pronounced accidental. However, as Parisian society had taken less than kindly to the news of the engagement, I think that the couple would have had a very difficult standing if they had officially married and assumed the now vacant titles of the Count and Countess de Chagny. It is therefore likely that Raoul, having officially disappeared, never claimed his titles and inheritance, and chose the more simple lifestyle that Christine was accustomed to. Leroux concludes the story of Raoul and Christine with the statement that one day, he too might „hear the solitary echoes of the Northland repeat the singing of the woman who knew the Angel of Music''. In the epilogue, the boundaries between the „false“ and the „real“ Angel of Music become blurred, as Leroux repeatedly speaks of Erik as the “Angel of Music” - indicating that maybe, just maybe, Erik truly was the Angel of Music.

After following up on Raoul and Christine, Leroux relates how he obtained proof of Erik‘s existence from the Persian, mostly through the letters written by Christine that Erik had sent to him, but also through the testimonies of Meg Giry and La Sorelli. He supposedly placed all the proof he had gathered in the archives of the Paris Opera.

He also obtained the testimony of M. Poligny, the previous manager of the Opera. The „Opera Ghost“ affair was the final straw that made him resign his post, which again indicates that Erik‘s reign as „O.G.“ was rather short and caused by Erik falling in love (since he had been living in the Opera House presumably since the early 1870s). He also quotes from the fictional „Memoirs of a Manager“ by Armand Moncharmin, where Moncharmin relates that a few days after Christine‘s abduction, Erik returned all of the forty thousand francs he had extracted to the managers, no longer having any need for the money as he had given up his plan to marry Christine. The mystery of the safety-pin is also finally resolved, as Leroux was supposedly able to locate a small trapdoor in the floor of the managers’ office, through which a dexterous magician like Erik could easily have reached up and retrieved the envelope from Richard‘s coattail pocket as it was hanging down from his chair.

Leroux also notes that the marble pillar next to Box 5 sounds hollow and would offer ample space for Erik to hide inside it. According to Gérard Fontaine’s research, the pillars being hollow applies to all the pillars in the auditorium of the Palais Garnier. Whether that proves or disproves anything is up to you... Leroux’s plan of having the lake drained in order to obtain the ultimate proof of Erik‘s existence - finding the entrance to the house by the lake - did not go through, but Leroux still sustains his hope of one day finding the score of „Don Juan Triumphant“ there (that is, if Christine had not taken it with her when she came to bury him).

Leroux then gives a summary of Erik’s life according to the Persian. Erik was born near Rouen in France and ran away from his parents as a young boy, as they were afraid and horrified by how he looked. After being exhibited as a “living corpse” at fairs, he became a singing sensation and garnered a reputation that reached as far as Persia. The daroga of Mazenderan was sent to bring Erik to Persia as entertainment for the “little sultana”. Erik, who also worked there as an assassin, is described here as amoral, “not knowing the difference between right and wrong”. Even though he does not have an evil heart, his life up until this point has left him completely without a moral compass of any kind.

After building an ingenious palace for the shah, Erik’s execution was ordered so that he could not divulge its secrets to anyone. The daroga was supposed to carry it out, but as he owed Erik favours (and was the one who brough Erik to Persia in the first place), he helped him escape instead. He was punished for this and went into exile to Paris. Erik took a detour to Asia Minor and Constantinople before he ended up in Paris as well. It is also mentioned that Erik could make lifelike automata, which is reflected in the musical in the form of the monkey music box and also the “mirror bride”, a physical representation of Erik’s dream of a loving wife.

Once in Paris, Erik decided that he finally wanted to live a normal life, and placed a successful bid to work as a contractor on the Opera House. Wishing to hide his face from the world forever, he built his comfortable home into the foundations of the Opera. Erik’s plan to live out the rest of his life in peaceful tranquillity went well - until he crossed paths with Christine Daae and lost his heart to her completely. And the rest is history…

Leroux here gives his own view of Erik: “He had a heart great enough to hold the empire of the world, and in the end he had to be content with a cellar.” With a normal face, Erik, with his brilliant mind and extraordinary talents, could have had the world at his feet. And even though no one had ever loved him, he still had a heart capable of feeling deep, pure love, which is pretty remarkable. His beautiful voice is a reflection of the beauty he carries inside his soul - which was sadly eclipsed by his ugliness, which did not allow him to live “like everyone else”. The great tragedy of his life was his face, which kept others from treating him as a human being and recognizing his full potential. He is therefore clearly worthy of pity, instead of being cursed and condemned as evil.

Leroux had already mentioned in the Prologue that he believed the skeleton found in the cellars of the Opera was Erik’s. Now he finally reveals why he was so certain of that: because Erik’s skeleton wore the gold wedding ring on his finger, which Leroux believes Christine had placed there. Even though Erik had set her free and given her the ring, she later came back to him, and this time it was certainly not out of terror. With Erik dead, none of his threats would hold any more sway over her - and yet, she still returned to him to keep her promise. She not only buried him with the wedding ring, but she slipped it onto his finger, ultimately fulfilling her promise to accept him as her husband. In a sense, she buried him with her love, and that is truly a bittersweet and beautiful ending. After everything he had to endure, Erik’s life ends with a kiss and a ring on his finger, put there by the woman he loved more than his own life, and with Leroux praying for his salvation. That may not be a traditional happy ending, but it‘s very powerful. And it’s definitely not a villain’s ending.

As „Faust“ is the most strongly referenced work in „Phantom“, it is also worth comparing how the endings are different. In the final act of Gounod‘s opera, Faust and Marguerite first swear their love to each other, but when Marguerite sees Mephistopheles and realizes who Faust really is, she turns away from him and chooses death instead, while Faust is dragged into the fires of hell. Her famous last words to him are „You horrify me!“ In „Phantom“, the progression is almost the other way round - Christine is horrified at first, but then accepts Erik and chooses life instead of death.

It should also be noted that the ending in the novel is so vague that it also allows a lot of room for the reader’s imagination. Was Erik really dead when Christine returned? He himself was announcing his death, so it would not even be so very unlikely. But as this is Leroux’s story, the official reading would of course be how he himself imagined the ending: Erik dying and Christine coming back to bury him. This might be my favourite line from the novel:

“The skeleton lay near the little fountain, where the Angel of Music first held the unconscious Christine Daae in his trembling arms after taking her into the cellars of the Opera.”

As if the return of the ring was not enough poetic closure, he also asked to be buried in the very spot where he held the love of his life for the first time...

Symbolism and Metaphors

Now that we have concluded the epilogue, I would like to add a few more notes on the general themes which are present throughout the novel and still influence how we feel about it today.

To understand the extent of symbolism employed in „The Phantom of the Opera“, it is necessary to understand the cultural mindset and environment in which it was written. At the turn of the century, the arts (and sciences, as evidenced by the slowly emerging works of Sigmund Freud) were rather obsessed with the fateful connection between Eros and Thanatos - love as the life-bringing force, and death as the destructive force. Both were often seen as intertwined and mirrored in the other.

Erik is the personification of Eros and Thanatos. He unites both forces in him to a degree unparalleled by any other character in the story. The death symbolism that is also clearly reflected in how he is described, would be both perceived as horrifying - and yet not without a strangely seductive fascination inherent in it. Death is intricately tied to darker feelings of passion and desire.The “Eros” and the “Thanatos” part of his character are intertwined, but his character also oscillates between the two sides in the course of the story.

Music in „Phantom“ also serves as a metaphor for romantic love, not only in the spiritual but also in the physical sense, as it is connotated with “passion”, “fire”, “ecstasy” and “rapture” throughout the story. Erik’s teaching awakens “an ardent, voracious and sublime life” in Christine, symbolizing the burgeoning romantic feelings in the young woman. She is terrified with the changes going on in her, which is also in line with how „Eros“ was originally viewed: as a frightening loss of control. Erik says in “Apollo’s Lyre” that “some music is so formidable that it consumes everyone who approaches it”, and Christine states that “Music has the power to abolish everything in the outside world except its sounds, which go straight to the heart”. In both sentences, the word “music” can easily be replaced with “love” - especially in Christine’s example, it would be the musical equivalent of “love is blind”.

Like in other (gothic) romances - “Wuthering Heights” being perhaps the prime example - the two rivals in the principal love triangle represent two very different types of love: one is intense and passionate, but also consuming, terrifying and potentially destructive, and the other is safer, but also somewhat chaste and lifeless. Erik and Raoul each represent one of the two extremes. This contrast is exemplified in the scene at the Masked Ball: Raoul wears white, the colour of innocence, while Erik wears red, the colour of passion, but also of danger and blood.

It is suggested in the novel that Erik and Christine were chained together by fate (“La destinée m’enchaîne à toi sans retour”), and I believe they were destined to save each other. Erik saved Christine from her grief in the wake of her father’s death and brought her back to life, and Christine saved his soul by being the first person in his life to accept him and grant him true happiness. „Phantom“ may be a tragic love story, but it is also a hopeful one, as love proves stronger than death. Christine’s choice, Erik‘s sacrifice and the skeleton’s wedding ring are all symbols of love triumphing over death.

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