#They were on some creative crack when they made that masterpiece | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stardustgates · 1 year ago

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Author’s Notes: Possibly OOC behaviour? I’ve done my best to stick by Canon as much as I can, but given I’m a newer player, I don’t know the relationship between Kafka and Silver Wolf or the characters individually as well I’d like to. Though I did do my best, please be aware that I may have taken some creative liberties in their characterisation and inner thoughts regarding each other. Also I am aware that this may just be 5.5k words of nonsensical BS but I haven’t written proper fanfiction in a hot minute so take it with a grain of salt. Not so much of a reader/canon thing and more like a reader AND canon thing currently. Perhaps that will change in future works, who’s to say? Oh yeah this is a SAGAU.

Warnings: Canonical In-game violence, references and descriptions of dissociation via player-induced body possession, references to drug use (one sentence), yandere tones if you squint really hard (shes a slowburner ya’ll), and a single swear word :3

Beyond the mind, within your body.

Description: Unaware that your presence has been made apparent to the eccentric duo during your first run through of Honkai Star Rail, you happily indulge yourself in the immersive (tutorial) world before your eyes. Kafka and Silver Wolf attempt to adjust to the feeling it brings, which leaves their minds constantly switching between distrust and euphoria, and all the things in between.

Word Count: 5.5k

Hoyoverse’s newest game hadn’t seemed much to your liking when you’d first heard the announcement. For one thing, you weren’t particularly pleased with the constant stream of ‘HONKAI STAR RAIL - PLAY NOW’ interrupting your YouTube doom-scrolling every other ad; Not to mention, you weren’t very keen on the gacha aspect.

Within your small circle of friends, you’d been known to cave easily when attractive anime characters were involved and you weren’t planning on another hyperfiction to solidify your position as the group’s resident simp. That being said, with such a title swaying above your head like a shiny silver dagger, you’d held a metaphorical death grip on your wallet, solemnly swearing that you’d keep your distance from the game for as long you were able.

Ultimately that so-called iron will of yours didn’t last so much as a year, as just seven months after its release a simple character trailer was enough to break your steadfast resilience. Well, it wasn’t ‘simple’, if you were being honest with yourself- It was a brilliantly unique masterpiece, tailored to the exact essence and spirit of his character. You were sure Argenti wouldn’t be released for a good while, so you decided to pick up the game and grind what you could before his arrival.

That was your plan at least. Your friend had warned you a few months prior (Though admittedly, you hadn’t been paying much attention at the time.) that the download and installation would take an exhaustingly long time. Well, it was better than Genshin Impact had been- but still, you were getting bored and subsequently decided to fetch yourself something to drink in the meantime.

With your back turned to the loading screen, you waltzed out of your bedroom with little care in the world- oblivious to the ominous glowing cracks slowly sprawling across the screen of your device.

As you returned a few moments later, you found that it had finally finished installing! You’d certainly waited long enough. Sure, it wasn’t as soul-sucking as Genshin had been but your patience wasn't that of a saint’s either. With a renewed sense of anticipation, you hit start and breezed through the usual terms and conditions without reading anything and let out a sigh at the beautiful change in scenery.

It perhaps wasn't the smartest idea to skip it completely- but you had spent so long waiting already that you weren’t going to bother wasting time reading a document filled with dolled-up words you could barely pronounce.

✄————————————————

Herta’s Space Station’s defences hadn't been particularly difficult to slip past surprisingly, though Kafka didn’t recall any mention of difficulty regarding entry in Elio’s script, so she supposed the lack of security wasn’t of any particular importance.

Despite the calm confidence that usually accompanied her on these little operations, Kafka couldn’t shake the strange feeling of being watched. It wasn’t the usual sort of lingering gaze or sharpened stare, but a vague pulsating heartbeat that faded in and out, as though blinking through blurry vision.

Needless to say, she kept her guard up. Playing none the wiser and bowing mid-air to the tempo of a rather graceful tune. She forced her shoulders to relax and gently swayed her body, controlling her every little move with practised ease- even as that strange pulsating presence slowly sped up and stroked the fires of an oncoming headache- as the elevator descended to the station’s ‘ground’ floor.

(You remained none the wiser to her sudden awareness, the rapidly changing scenes flashing past your eyes far too quickly to pick up on a single, brief second of stillness in her body.)

A sudden explosion reverberates across the station's cold, metallic body and brings Kafka’s impromptu air-violin session to a screeching halt. Simultaneously, that presence settles over her body like a thick blanket of fog. That ‘gaze’ she had felt becoming so vivid she could feel its weight pressing down on her tongue.

She has little time to process the feeling before the usual blueish glow of Silver Wolf’s communications screen flickers into existence before her very eyes.

“... Seems I came at a bad time.”

“No, No – I think you couldn’t’ve timed it better. Twenty-three-fourty-seven-fifteen system time. Very punctual, Kafka.” Silver Wolf almost sounds impressed, though Kafka suspects she’s only trying to butter her up so she’ll let the girl go off task again. Perhaps, under different circumstances, she would have been kind enough to allow it, but with the nature of their current mission and this inexplicable presence, Kafka doesn't find herself in a very generous mood.

Kafka merely hums in response and ignores the empty praise.

“Elio always tells the exact future. So What’s with the explosion just now? Was that part of his script?” Silver Wolf picks up on her cue to focus without any fuss.

“Twenty-three-four-four-fifty-nine system time: The pulses from the explosion cause a massive breakdown from the master control system.”

Pulses. Perhaps it’s linked to the feeling curling itself around her senses?

“You did that?” Kafka doubts that Silver Wolf would waste effort on something so minor.

“No, the antimatter legion did it. They completely invaded the space station two system hours ago.” She whistles in response and glances down the glass panelling to the approaching ground floor. A small group… annoying, but manageable.

“Alright, so do we need to fight the legion?”

“Dunno, Elio didn’t say anything about it, so it doesn’t matter.” Hmm. Silver Wolf made a good point.

“Got it. So from now on, I'll be in charge of this operation.” She feels that tingle of a smirk reach the corner of her mouth, and smiles a little wider in anticipation.

“Copy. Can you let me have some fun this time? Our last few operations turned out to be pretty dull.” Kafka lets out a playful hum as she ponders over her colleague’s request with faux consideration. She can practically hear Silver Wolf’s stifled groan in the second of silence that passes.

“...Sorry~ I’m afraid there’s not much I can do for you- our task this time is just to ‘place’ the target properly.”

Her choice of words is careful, though not enough to cause any alert in potential eavesdroppers. The feeling still hasn’t left.

“But if you wanna go look for some fun yourself, I won’t stop you.”

“I mean… after all…” she chuckles lightly as the blue hologram blips out of her vision, and reaches for the holsters tucked into her lower back. “After all…” Kafka readjusts her footing just in time to watch the elevator’s doors slide open, the sound of metal dragging against metal pinching at her ears.

“Elio didn’t put it in the script… Why would it matter?”

Just as the impact from her gunshots flitters across her skin, Kafka feels her mind being pulled back to the edge of her skull.

The group of voidrangers in front of her feel distant and smudged, the sockets of her eyes creating a blurred tunnel of vision that refuse adjust no matter how much she tries to blink it away. Their dark forms bleed into black speckles that crowd her already limited vision until she’s staring directly into the singed edges of the universe.

Kafka’s body… is no longer hers to command.

✄————————————————

She returns to her mind with startling swiftness. Her memories of the brief battle suddenly bubbling up as though pushing themselves through a thick soup of aether. She feels disconnected from the memory but can at least recall that she’d lost control of her body before blacking out.

She attempts to think back on that burnt, golden memory but is stopped by a sudden wave of nausea. She opts to set that aside for another time and refocus on the operation. Elio had not mentioned this happening anywhere in the script- so either this had no significance or…

Still, those Voidrangers hadn’t proved to be much trouble- in fact, they’d been less of an annoyance than she had prepared for. Either she’d been far more ruthless than intended or the antimatter legion had lost its touch.

“When did the anti-matter legion become so weak?” She asks out loud.

“I could only attract this much. Did you really want the entire legion to come here?” Silver Wolf speaks in feigned annoyance, her usual behaviour.

She hadn’t even realised. Kafka chooses not to mention anything for the moment, instead opting to subtly gauge the extent of control this presence… or rather... Entity, seems to have over her.

“This lot won’t be able to slow down the Astral Express crew.” Silver Wolf sighs in response on the other end of the device.

“Relax, a doomsday beast is also here.”

As she approaches one of the station’s automatic doors, Kafka feels it slip back into her body as if wearing her like a coat. Its influence feels… less heavy than it previously had been a few moments ago. At the very least she remains conscious this time; A strange lightness in her feet as she feels herself stealth towards a lone voidranger lounging about the area.

Her movements come to her now like instinct, striking down enemies with admittedly far more efficiency than she was naturally capable of. If it weren’t for her body being strung along like a puppet against her will, she’d almost be grateful for the power and resiliency it granted her.

Kafka has barely had her fill before a euphoric sense of power seems to swell up all at once; Killer instinct pumping through her veins like a well-oiled machine.

Ahh. Now this… this particular feeling wasn’t so bad.

Truthfully she’d liked to have toyed with this one a bit longer, but she knew all too well that it wouldn't manage to survive her next attack. She chatters to no one in particular, the ecstasy in her mind clouding whatever decorum she would have usually displayed.

“Good times never last… time to say bye.”

“Ah- She’s so cool…”

Kafka tenses up at the stranger’s voice, just as the swirling dark mass in front of her collapses into itself.

She sheathes her sword and adjusts her gloves, ignoring the voidranger approaching her from behind. Just before its darkened claws reach her, Silver Wolf’s ability activates no more than a hands-width from her shoulder blades.

“Cleaning up other people’s mess isn’t in my job description… y’know Kafka?” Silver Wolf huffs out, but her voice has no real bite in it. Was it her? She wasn’t usually one to doubt herself, but that fog of exhilaration certainly could have played with her mind.

“Yeah, yeah. Where did you send it Silver Wolf?”

Kafka turns in time to hear the gooey pop of the silver-haired girl’s bubblegum as she hops to her feet. She isn’t sure if it's Strawberry or Grape, but the artificial sweetness and scent of no-fruit-in-particular is so strong it actually grounds her mind for a moment.

She sighs for no real reason, but it brings her relief regardless.

Oh.

She hadn’t realised how bad her headache was.

“Some random Co-ordinates, not important.” She avoids Kafka’s gaze for a reason she couldn’t care to name before taking on an adorably defiant stance, her hands placed at her hips as though it would help her short stature in any way.

“You care about where that voidranger ended up?” She doesn’t. But she’d rather think about that than, well… She didn’t know what to call it at this point. But it was distracting and she needed to focus on literally anything else for the sake of what sanity she had left.

Though some could argue that she wasn’t sane at all- which was only half true because most people’s definition of sanity varied greatly from her own.

Oh, Silver Wolf was still blinking up at her expectantly.

“Of course not- I’m just amazed at this fancy technique of yours, as usual.” she smiles down at her colleague, who only rolls her eyes in response. To the girl’s credit, she’d been dealing with Kafka’s empty flattery for quite a long time.

“Just a little trick of tampering with the data of reality, I wouldn't call it fancy.” Kafka smiles a little wider, following behind as Silver Wolf strolls down the hallway. Her tells were always so obvious.

“What were you looking at just now? Let me see.” Silver Wolf huffs a bit as she settles herself onto a desk and faces her.

“Herta’s toys,” she begins in an almost mocking tone

“A catalogue featuring the space station’s collection of rare items.” Her fingers briefly tug on the white fluff of her jacket as she speaks “They’ve got quite a looot of interesting gadgets~”

Kafka’s previous interest (however feigned it may have been) dies down a little at the prospect of these ‘gadgets’ but nonetheless she indulges Silver Wolf’s unspoken desire to share what information she’d dug up.

“Like what?”

“There’s this gun, it can rate any creature within its crosshair as a score from 0 to 100.”

“... Doesn't sound very interesting.” Her brows pinch together and her mouth stretches into a thin line of clear disappointment. Not one to be disheartened so easily, Silver Wolf continues on

“Aren’t you curious how much you would score? I kinda wanna know mine.”

So this is what she’d been hinting at since earlier. Kafka crosses her arms and takes on the tone of an exasperated mother having finally given up after being nagged at for far, far longer than the reality of it.

“Fine. I guess we can swing by and play with it, if it’s not too far. What’s our destination?” She redirects Silver Wolf’s distractable attention onto their current objective with practised ease.

Hmm.

She feels a little cold for some reason… and those watchful eyes haven't left during the entirety of their conversation. Kafka’s guard raises a little further than before.

Her colleague’s eyes flit down to a small blue hologram, her fingers swiping past various screens until arriving at what Kafka could only presume was a list of directions given to her by Elio.

“Go down the corridor, behind the door… ooon the left. There’s a room where some kind of rare item is stored.”

Kafka feels the entity strongly now, she stares just beyond Silver Wolf’s shoulders where it feels most concentrated. The feeling she is met with is a dense smouldering hotness. It’s like melting iron dripping down her throat and burning it in the process. It feels almost itchy.

She redirects her gaze back to Silver Wolf far quicker than she’d intended to and resists the urge to scratch at her throat.

“So that’s where the Stellaron is?” Kafka is somewhat relieved when the feeling seems to simmer down. She once again debates speaking on the sensation during the slightest lull in their conversation but when Silverwolf turns her head back to face her, she finds the girl’s gaze to be much sharper than before.

“That's where we can find out where the Stellaron is.”

Kafka immediately knows that Silverwolf has finally caught on to this feeling and says nothing as she readies herself for the next half of their mission. Almost instantly, she feels the presence shift and roll over her shoulders, like a cat stretching out its limbs.

It's languid and smooth and she feels her tense- She had been tense this whole time?- muscles slowly relax until she finally feels that usual calm focus she’s so intimately familiar with. She hadn’t realised the extent of how cold she’d felt when it had stepped- strange, it feels like a person?- away.

Kafka decides that her feelings towards this... Being- She isn’t totally sure if it feels sapient, but it certainly has some form of will… That much she can tell- are mixed, to say the least. She wonders one more why Elio hadn’t mentioned anything about something so foreign and strange but sets the thought aside and refocuses on the task at hand.

She locks eyes with Silverwolf briefly, and just as she thought, Silverwolf is most definitely aware of it at this point.

“The central area of the space station is up ahead. There’ll be loads of Legion Void rangers there.” Silver Wolf hops to her feet and saunters toward the door’s control panel. A bit too casual to be natural, but it doesn't cause the feeling to stir, so she says nothing.

“Okay.” Kafka breathes out.

Then that feeling of puppeteering seems to stitch itself into her mind once more, albeit in a much more faded sense- it feels more like muscle memory than it does being pulled from her own body. She allows it to pull her along and lead her toward whatever it wants. As her fingers glide over the room’s control panels and her heels click against the cold steel of the station, she feels that fog of exhilaration settle over her again- that almost euphoric surge of strength from earlier suddenly vivid and fresh in her mind.

Silverwolf seems to feel the building strength in her own body too, as she quickens her pace when they turn the corner to find themselves at the back of a particularly strong-looking voidranger. She huffs out in bemusement and half-heartedly mutters out some encouragement to her colleague.

“May as well kill them all.”

Not needing much more encouragement than that, Silverwolf leaps forward with as much grace as her short form can allow her and drags her digitally enhanced blade across the muscles and sinew of its chest. She leaps back beside Kafka as it staggers on its feet and tries to regain its footing. Kafka’s arm pulls itself up, gun in hand, and fires out a cascade of bullets that each burrow and pierce into its flesh.

“This… seems a lot easier than it should be.” Silverwolf comments under her breath quietly.

“Well, let’s count our blessings–” Kafka is cut off as her arm is singed by the blast of the voidranger’s fire canon.

“Tch. Didn’t hurt.”

Silverwolf pulls out her holographic system at such speed that Kafka feels the static waft across her skin.

“Hmph, still. This combat needs optimising.” Just as the creature aims its weapon once more, it’s hit with a blast pulled from the loosened strands of reality itself.

“At that speed? Too slow!”

Kafka almost feels sorry for it, as she watches its body disintegrate while collapsing into itself.

Unfortunately, the girls are not left with time to bask in their victory- Silver Wolf lets out a small yelp- the entity has left its place on Kafka’s shoulders and draped itself over her companion it would seem. Her short colleague adjusts to the sensation of its guiding hand far better than she had, if her losing conscious was anything to go by.

Kafka follows behind silently, eyes trained intently on the girl in front of her for any indication of danger.

“Hold it. Someone.. Or something is up ahead.” she warns quietly, arm extended out to her side like a makeshift barrier. They both come to a sudden halt as the entity violently rips itself from their bodies and settles just beyond their skin.

Goosebumps this time.

The cold seems to get worse and worse each time it separates from them… well, her. Silver Wolf grits her teeth. Kafka notes the tiny pearl of sweat rolling down the side of her face. Still a shock to the system then.

“Looks like we’re the ones getting ambushed.”

“...But they’re the ones getting besieged.”

✄————————————————

The game has felt pretty cool so far, and you quite like this Kafka woman. You don’t recall her being part of the main cast your friend had rambled about however many months ago it was, but you hoped you’d get to see a lot more of her.

Her design was really nice- though strangely familiar?- and her voice was pretty too! Silver Wolf was alright, but she hadn’t really caught your interest so far, so you werent sure what to make of her yet.

They did seem to be close though, but less like friends and more like tired workmates who’d been stuck in the same dead end job for a decade- that is to say, it definitely felt like they were used to dealing with each other’s nonsense.

Were they a ship? You could see it. Ah, another battle, sweet!

The combat system Star Rail used wasnt particularly innovative or anything, but it’s playstyle was strangely addictive- especially the Ult animations! Kafka’s especially had you nearly squealing with how badass it was. Did the MC have a cool one too? You could hardly wait to see.

✄————————————————

The mood is light despite the circumstances, they both feel a sense of safety and confidence while the presence pulls them along, as though leading them in a dance. The Voidranger’s movements stand out like a pindrop in an empty room. Predictable, and delectably so.

Silver Wolf barks out a short, quick laugh- a taunting thing that aggravates the musclehead stomping around in front of her- before decapitating the creature in a single, swift move.

“You took the bait, just like that?” Her jubilance is cut short by an attack from her blindspot, it isnt fatal- hell it barely counts as a battle wound- but its enough to flip her mood in the opposite direction. “Tch.”

Kafka laughs lightly at her, amused with her momentary lapse in spacial awareness. Silver Wolf scoffs and scowls lightly at her. Really, like she hadn’t gotten hit before?

Just as she opens her mouth to hurl a barely-an-insult-but-im-still-annoyed-with-you comment towards the magenta haired woman next to her, Kafka’s aura shifts somewhat. Time seems to slow down for a second as Silver Wolf watches the woman’s pupils dilate in slow motion.

Had she appeared like this? When that wave of energy had swelled within her?

She receives no answer to her unvoiced question, and instead hears Kafka’s voice ring through out her ears.

“That breathing sensation. Remember it.” Silver Wolf gulps in a breath of blood-scented air and breathes out a sickly, golden-sweet taste. As Kafka’s bullets rain down upon the bodies of their would-be-ambushers she can't help but feel pure ecstasy in the moment. Truly…if this was a drug she’d be hooked like a fish to water.

Even just being near it is enough to cloud her mind.

“Alright, now that that’s over with…” Silver Wolf’s body relaxes significantly as Kafka speaks, the strength of whatever had possessed them slowing dripping out from their bodies like tree sap. She feels like she just got a massage.

“I could get used to that.” She isn’t sure who she’s talking to, but it feels appropriate to voice. Kafka ignores her and spins her around to face the door, and Silver Wolf seems to go into auto pilot as she unlocks the control panel blocking their path, stepping lightly as her taller colleague gently pushes her forward without a word.

The monitoring room is completley empty. Nothing but the quiet beeping of a few monitors and the rustling of swaying leaves, courtesy of the air conditioning unit humming softly above them.

“Huh. not a single soul here. Impressive evacuation work. Did herta organise it herself?” Kafka seems mildly impressed- and entirely unaffected by the sensation Silver Wolf is still trying to shake from her skin.

“According to the access history, she hasnt logged in her for over six months. The evacuation was directed by the acting lead researcher - a girl named Asta.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell. Oh, right. Elio said we wouldn’t run into herta. It seems she really isnt here.” Though something else definitely was, but Silver Wolf supposed they weren’t going to be making any conversation on that topic.

She sighs, and scrolls through her holograms nonchalantly.

“Elio’s Script doesnt include any info about the location of the stellaron. Which means in the future he foresees…”

“... we would find the stellaron in a non-physical way?” Kafka crosses her arms, easily having picked up on her train of thought and already dipping her metaphorical toes into several different plans of action. She was always efficient like that. Silver Wolf strolls over to the water cooler and pours herself a cold cup. She gestures to Kafka who only shakes her head in response.

“This space station is packed with extraordinary objects, I wouldnt be surprised if theres one that can make it happen.” She takes a long sip, the cooling sensation bringing relief to her sweltering body. The combat efficiency was nice, but she was left feeling like an overheating graphics disk everytime it took control of her. She idles on a page in her hologram briefly before continuing on her scroll-fest.

“Hiding something extraordinary with something extraordinary… this is pretty Herta. I assume you know what to do? I mean, You’ve been reading that cataogue for a while?” Ah. Perseptive as ever, Kafka never changes. She ignores the heat building in her ears at the prospect of being caught slacking-off, and bins the styrofoam cup as she turns to the older woman.

“Hmph. I’ve got all the clues we need. The only piece missing is a simple trick- maybe this entity thats been stringing us along could lend a hand? After all, it doesnt have a physical form.”

(You didn’t expect them to involve the player like this! What an awesome storytelling device, and it would hopefully grant a lot more player agency too! Hoyoverse had truly out done themselves this time. Feeling a surge of excitement at being learning you’ll be able to lend a helping hand ‘directly’, you decide that Silver Wolf is also really cool.)

Kafka says nothing in response, only staring down at Silver Wolf in consideration.

“Why dont we have it help us investigate the terminals around here, that item we’re looking for may be inside.” The magenta haired woman only sighs, internally cursing the girl’s lack of caution. Though… she couldnt deny that it had only been helping them so far.

“Alright, lets give it the spotlight.”

“Oh god, I hope I don’t fuck this up…” Kafka stills. The same voice from before. So it can speak? She tucks the information away in her mind for later.

She watches it guide her along the messily arranged desks and flickering monitors. Stopping at a memory storage cart- which is, of course, missing its memory. Not useful for her current objective, but it at least told her that whatever it was could see the same things she could.

“...I cant see the memory storage for this terminal.” Her body shifts slightly.

“This is the monitoring room, the must have deleted the records and made a run for it. Classic.” Silver Wolf is still scrolling through the holographic catalogue, idling against a desk in the middle of the room. She doesn’t look up, even as Kafka is strung along past her towards a monitor on the other side of the room.

“You don’t seem to be very affected by it? Its control over you, I mean.”

“And you? You seemed a little weary earlier.”

“I wouldn’t say that. It’s just new, thats all.”

Kafka’s hand reaches out to flick through various active surveillance cameras, interesting but ultimately fruitless.

“Hmmm… I can see the whole space station on the surveillance screen. But not the Stellaron.” Silver Wolf scoffs indignantly behind her, she almost sounds offended.

“Even if you could it’d be a trap. Herta doesn’t display her collections.” She turns to her hologram once more.

“This thing isnt very good with investigating, is it?”

Kafka expects some form of insulted rage to squeak in her mind’s ear, but she hears nothing. Though faintly she imagines a rather adorable ‘Hey! I’m trying my best!’ echoing in her skull.

Kafka staves off the sudden urge to get defensive in response and clamps her mouth shut.

Silver Wolf sighs at her lack of response and shifts onto her feet.

“Make your way over here then. There’s no point in trying to search like this.”

“So? Got a master plan? I’m all ears.”

Kafka’s tone takes on a slightly irritated edge, for a reason she herself doesn’t quite understand. If Silver Wolf picked up on it, she chooses not to say anything and instead gestures to the warping static of the holographic screens lining the walls of the office.

“Its a matter of hacking the surveillance system directly.” She says matter-of-factly, smirking playfully as her iconic vandalism plasters itself onto every screen in sight.

“Aha, I see. Herta’s collections aren’t in the system so anything unaffected should be our target.”

Their heads are guided to turn and face the back of a lone monitor by the main desk. Ah. that one then. As they both stroll over to investigate, Kafka feels a strange sense of pride bubble in the back of her mind. Not for Silver Wolf’s accomplishment- that much would be expected from the shorter girl- but for the entity curling along the edge of her mind. What exactly she was supposed to be proud of she couldnt tell, but the feeling was pleasant regardless.

Silver Wolf slips into a chair and slides forward to the desk, cracking her knuckles and wiggling her fingers as she readies herself for some data mining.

“Crude, simple, but effective. Look, found it.” The computer’s cursor circles a line of code tauntingly. Kafka doesn’t understand what any of the values mean.

“Item number two-eleven, ‘Blind Spot’ : a simple light-deflecting field. It allows an object in its field to pass unnoticed, but if a different item ceases to be obvious, the object gets revealed.”

She isn’t sure which set of numbers.. Or letters? That item is supposed be, but it does seem like a very… uncomplicated form of security for someone like Herta.

“So, Herta the genius… hides her collection with something as simple as this?”

“the simplest method is the hardest to spot, isnt that our motto?”

“Huh? How is that simple?” Kafka nearly chokes on her saliva while trying to hold back a bark of laughter and wonders why she’d kept her guard up for this thing. She follows Silver Wolf towards the glitching hole in the wall and sighs bemusedly.

“The data suggests its just an ordinary hologram. But it has an added layer… “ Silver Wolf eyes the frayed edges of the hologram cautiously, despite the confidence in her voice.

“Lets take a look. Dont worry, this place wont be our grave.” The girl only puffs her cheeks and steps forward, ignoring Kafka’s words of comfort completely. Well, she’d expected that much at least.

As she follows behind, her vision melts into a stark change of scenery.

The bright, ethereal glow of the Stellaron coating the walls of the closed off room in a golden-blue light. A strange combination, but one that was all too familiar; the everchanging strands of reality warping and stretching around itself, as the Stellaron sat patiently- sealed away- in the center of the room. Such an otherworldly treasure was exactly what all Stellaron hunters across the universe strove for. Though admittedly it was a mere front for their true purpose, a fact that Kafka was intimately aware of.

Their true goal would see this stellaron- sealed away, courtesy of Herta- to another use. Once said seal was removed by Silver Wolf, all Kafka would need to do was take hold of it and place it inside that vessel.

It had been laying in wait for this exact occasion…Kafka smiles fondly at the memory of it. Silver Wolf makes a small noise of surprise, catching her attention. She steps over towards the girl and the control panel, asking a question without speaking.

“It has its own security system… I guess even for herta, a Stellaron is no ordinary rarity.” Silver Wolf sounds genuinely surprised at this fact, though Kafka feels this was a rather likely outcome.

“Can you get it?”

“Of course, even the genius Herta cant compete with me when it comes to hacking.”

“Good. Then I’ll also count on you for the preparation of the receptacle.” Not to mention, she was quite sure this being wouldn’t be able to provide much help if Silver Wolf couldn’t figure it out herself. Speak of the devil, she feels the entity waft away like smoke in the wind and settle in the air around them as she lifts the Stellaron from its prison. She turns to her Silver haired companion and unspoken words flicker between their eyes.

This is Kafka’s decision.

Or perhaps it isn’t, she corrects herself over the distant sound of Silver Wolf’s voice.

When it enters her body, it no longer feels like being puppeteered or controlled.

She recalls that first feeling of possession, and the bleeding darkness making way for glowing golden edges of a burnt milky way. Her mind is dipped like an apple into the thick syruppy taste of synethesia. The amber eyes of the vessel- piercing into her soul and leaving her tongue sizzling in an almost addictive sort of pain- briefly flash open before collapsing to the floor in Kafka’s arms.

The Stellaron has found its place. And something else entirely has made its home there too.

(What an amazing tutorial and intro! You get the feeling you’ll be playing this game for a very long while!)

#not super happy with how this turned out honestly but I can’t be bothered looking at it anymore #honkai star rail x reader #yandere honkai star rail #(sort of?)#hsr kafka #kafka x reader #silver wolf x reader #hsr silver wolf #kafka honkai star rail #silver wolf honkai star rail #hsr fanfic #yandere hsr #my writing

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muse-oleum · 9 months ago

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Always & Forever

okay, hi, welcome, i'm really unsure about this because i've never written something quite so heavy or, in fact, anything Elejah at all so, um, be nice? pwease? and if you see typos, as always, no you didn't. this came about because i recently re-read two masterpieces of the Elejah variety: We Remain, by Anonymous Obssesser (@deathloveshischicagopizza on this platform, sure hope i got that right lmao) and She's Come Undone and Set Free, by @terapsina. and it got the brain juices flowing and the creative bugs going.

you can find me here on ao3. this has also been cross-posted over there.

WARNING: very brief discussion of non-con/rape (because Damon is a dick) but it's more implied than anything else.

as for my ElijahxOC fic readers (if there are any here) i swear to god i'm in the process of writing a new chapter, i promise.

Always and forever.

Looking up at the intimidating walls of the infamous Abattoir, Elena kept those words close to her heart, like a talisman against the dangers she knew lurked inside.

She wasn’t afraid of him. She never truly had been, aside from their first meeting, forever ago in that decrepit mansion in the middle of nowhere. But she was unsure about his brother, and the kingdom he ruled over. Even now, a mere hour after the sun had set, she could see vampires flitting in and out through the doorway, obviously on a mission for their evil hybrid overlord.

Elena took a deep breath, calming her heart. She’d sworn to herself that she wouldn’t think of him in those terms anymore. They were long past that, they had to be, for her own sanity. Besides, the moral high ground was no longer hers to stand on.

She took one step, then another, forcing her legs to move despite the fear. She knew she couldn’t stay the way she was, alone and scared. She knew who she could trust.

She always had.

Hyperaware as she was, she could feel everything. The stares on her as she made her way through a square courtyard, the back and forth glide of her purse against her hip, the smell of blood and bourbon—a scent she had come to associate with New Orleans—but most of all she felt the moment he saw her, as if ripples crashed against her chest in tiny little shockwaves.

A vampire zoomed in front of her, fangs out, eyes flashing red, no doubt trying to intimidate her; that’s how vampiric hierarchy worked (another thing they had neglected to teach her). He didn’t know she had known far, far worse.

She often wondered if the Salvatores knew the first thing about being vampires. She supposed she was lucky Rose had told her some things, the last time she was in town, such as how to act around older, stronger vampires before you inadvertently got your head swiped clean off your shoulders. Or else, she probably would have been long dead, again.

Still, she submitted, as she had always done. She cast her eyes down, her jugular on clear display, and waited. The vampire, a dark-skinned man with wide eyes, immediately stood back, cocking his head slightly. Then he straightened, a telltale look of fear in his eyes.

“I’d recommend not doing that again, Diego.”

His voice, soft and dangerous, just the way she remembered it. But the danger was never for her, not even when he’d cracked the earth open and abandoned her to his sister’s less than tender mercy in that underground cave he knew so well.

Elijah Mikaelson was dangerous.

To everyone else.

“Elena.”

She fought to keep her eyes open. She couldn’t help it, she’d missed the sound of her name on his lips. The way he accented the word a little differently than everyone else, how even when he was stressed or angry, he’d always said her name with a little bit of wonder, an awestruck tone she couldn’t quite understand. She had always been special, she knew—to her parents, their little girl; to her brother, his only sibling; to her friends, the listening ear; to the brothers, for her face; and then, to him. She didn’t understand how she was special to him, but she was, she knew it. His tone of voice gave him away, every time, the soft lilting of the syllables, pronounced with care, each of them a caress that soothed some strange part of her brain.

“Elijah.”

She met his eyes, wider and darker than she remembered them. Actually, no, that wasn’t right, they had been even darker in Willoughby, when he’d kissed her.

Not her. Katherine.

She forced the thought away, she couldn’t afford to dwell on that now. She had other, bigger, problems only an Original brother could help her with. She almost thanked Klaus and his godforsaken curse for bringing him into her life, however inadvertently, because she wasn’t sure what she would have done without him now.

Probably staked herself.

“Can we—” she faltered a bit, eyeing the vampires listening in, trying to pretend they weren’t interested in what a baby vampire could have to say to the king of the city that would warrant even a moment of his time. Because he was the king, she had no doubt about that. Klaus may be the face, but Elijah was the hand behind it all.

She swallowed, putting her blinders on, taking a deep breath. “Can we talk?”

He observed her, his head tilted to the side, a small frown on his brow. She could tell her demeanor alone puzzled him, but she wasn’t surprised. After all, the last time he’d seen her, she’d been on a rampage across the country, his little sister in tow, searching for a cure she obviously had not taken. He rallied quickly, turning halfway, gesturing to door behind him. It led to an indoor dining room area and she briefly panicked; It was too reminiscent of the boarding house.

“Not—not here, hum… Would you mind…?” She turned back towards the lobby, the doors still wide open.

He softened, his hands going back into his pockets. A clear message to her—an everyone else—that he meant no harm. She’d learned that particular tell of his long ago.

“Of course.”

She felt his hand at the small of her back as they walked outside into the evening air. She still felt slightly claustrophobic indoors, even in an open courtyard, the presence of a dozen vampiric eyes on her certainly not helping. It reminded her too much of the almost scientific fascination the brothers had when they were trying to force her back into a humanity she wasn’t certain she wanted anymore.

And therein laid her problem.

The switch was back on, she knew that; she could feel it, just as she herself simply… felt. But it wasn’t pushed back completely, there was a jam, a missing piece, a core memory she still couldn’t access. Part of her wondered if it was for her own good, the other part wanted to let everything back in and be done with it. As things stood now, she had only half the story behind her sudden emotion-free spree, and she knew there was more lurking behind that door.

But she wasn’t sure how to access it on her own, and she needed the help on the only other vampire she could trust to do it right.

This limbo state—on but not on; back to herself but not completely—made her incredibly vulnerable. She could feel the imbalance in her soul, as corny as that sounded, because she was missing something—something she needed in order to move on fully, to become herself again, even in this new skin.

Caroline couldn’t help her, although she understood what the problem was and it was ironically her who had suggested the solution that had been staring her in the face all this time. She needed help from someone who had studied vampirism better than anyone else, and that person walked by her side now, silent as he let her gather her thoughts. She took a breath, let it out, relishing the fresh air.

Well, as fresh as it could be in the Big Easy.

“Where are we going?” She asked, her voice still too small for her liking. She wasn’t afraid of him, dammit! She was simply afraid of every other man. But she didn’t know how to let him know that, and she could tell he was worried.

“What would you prefer?” He asked right back, ever the gentleman.

She shrugged. “You know the city better than I do.”

He smiled. “There’s a bar not far that my siblings and I like to frequent on occasion. Unless you would prefer dinner?”

She shivered slightly, either to the thought of “dinner” or his voice, she wasn’t sure.

“The bar will do.”

She wasn’t even surprised when he opened the door to Rousseau’s, she really should have known. He noticed her half-smile when they sat down, cocking an eyebrow in question. She shook her head, amused.

“That’s the first bar I stopped at when I first arrived in the city.” Figures you’d do the same, but she didn’t say that.

“Yes, it’s quite… quaint,” he replied, lips quirking up slightly, somehow managing not to make it sound like an insult, “it’s also where I first stopped by when I came back.”

Yeah, figures.

“Did you know it, back in the day?”

He shook his head, smiling a little more fully as a blonde bartender approached them. “Not very well, it was ran by a werewolf family my brother and I preferred to avoid dealing with whenever possible.”

“NOLA problems?”

“NOLA problems.”

The bartender, Camille, judging by her name tag, reached their table and Elena was surprised when Elijah engaged her in a short but clearly familiar conversation. Camille seemed equally surprised to find him here at this hour, seated with a woman. Clearly, it wasn’t a habit of his. She chose not to analyze how that made her feel.

“What can I get you?” She asked with a friendly smile. She really was quite beautiful.

Unsurprisingly, Elijah asked for bourbon. Elena stifled a laugh, asking her to make her whatever she fancied most. This time, it was Elijah’s turn to chuckle and Camille joined him, shaking her head.

“Family habit, I see.”

Elena froze, eyes growing wide, but Elijah didn’t contradict her and Camille went on her merry way back to the bar, only throwing one furtive glance back.

“Family habit?”

Elijah shook his head, rearranging his glass so it sat just so in front of him. She valiantly resisted the urge to push it back just to mess with him.

“I may or may not have told her the exact same thing when I first met her. She’s become somewhat of a friend of ours since then.”

“She seems nice.”

He nodded, pensive again. She managed to hold eye contact for all of three seconds before looking back down at her hands, fiddling with the string of her purse.

“Elena.”

She looked back up just as Camille brought them their drinks. Cautiously, she took a sip, surprised at the depth of flavors that exploded on her tongue. Her wonder must have shown on her face because Camille laughed.

“I’ve learned a thing or two about making vampires drinks. I hope it’s to your taste?”

Elena shot her a look, taken aback, but Elijah simply smiled.

“You can call me Cami, by the way. I hate my full name but Elijah still hasn’t fully internalized that yet.”

The man in question simply sniffed, the epitome of snobbishness, and Elena laughed. It wasn’t her laugh from before, but she had missed the sensation anyway.

“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you but I don’t think he ever will.”

Cami sighed dramatically, tucking her tray under her arm.

“Yeah, I think I got that. Anyway, enjoy!” She gave them another smile and moved on to another table.

With her gone, Elena was once again confronted by her own feelings, bubbling up to the surface. The drink helped, turning down the faucet of emotions a little, just so she could breathe without it hurting too much. She brought her hands on the table, lowering her drink, her index finger running in circles around the rim.

“Elena?”

This time her name was a question, one she couldn’t hope to evade. She shouldn’t anyway, that’s why she was here in the first place but damn was it hard to force herself to look back up into his eyes.

“What happened?”

He asked the question flat out, the frown returning.

“How do you know anything happened?”

“Because I know that nothing would bring you within a hundred miles of my brother of your own free will.”

“I’m here of my own free will,” she said, too quickly. His frown deepened.

“Is anyone here with you?”

She shook her head vehemently. “No, I came on my own.”

His eyebrows shot up right into his hairline and she supposed she couldn’t blame him. After all, when had the Salvatores ever let her do something on her own, much less when it involved him?

“They…” she swallowed, “they don’t know I’m here. Nobody does.” She released a quiet laugh, but it sounded hollow. “I expect they’re all up in arms back home, wondering where I’ve gone.”

She looked back down at her drink, taking a sip. Her finger beat a restless rhythm against the glass. Slowly, Elijah reached over, giving her time to evade him if she wanted to, and brought his hand to cover hers.

“Elena, sweetheart, what happened?”

The endearment flowed from his lips seemingly without his own accord, if the slight widening of his eyes was any indication. His jaw clicked shut, his eyes flickered back down to their hands, but he didn’t take it back.

Elena rather liked the way it sounded.

She took a breath.

“You know my humanity was off a few weeks back, yes?”

Of course, he knew. She’d practically spat it in his face right before Katherine did a very Katherine thing and snapped her neck like a twig. Idiot.

He just nodded silently.

“Well, what I didn’t tell you back then was that I, hum… I—I was sired. To Damon. He—I… There was… a sire bond. Between us.”

Elijah went deadly still, the motion of his thumb running across the back of her hand stilling. His eyes hardened impossibly, but she knew whatever it was that he was feeling, it wasn’t meant for her. Or rather, it wasn’t aimed at her.

“You were sired,” he said flatly, tonelessly.

And here was the Elijah she remembered from that mansion in the fields.

“It was… a side effect, I just… I—” she faltered, her eyes dropping back to her hands. She tried to escape his grasp but he wouldn’t let her, resuming his caress. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, and the tension bled from his shoulders.

“Did he know?”

No use disguising it.

“Yes.”

The air became even more still.

“He knew you were sired to him while the two of you were together?”

Elijah looked faintly sick, the tick in his jaw growing more intense.

“Yes.”

Another deep breath, deeper than the last. She felt his hand twitch over hers, but the soothing motion of his thumb never stopped.

“Did he attempt to free you, at least?” He asked. She shook her head. And then he asked the question she’d been dancing around for the past twenty minutes. “Did he demand you turn it off?”

Elena heard the unspoken question, the one she knew would tip it all over. But she couldn’t lie to him, she’d never been very good at it anyway.

“Yes.”

Everything went quiet, the air became electric, like the calm before the storm, right before the first rumble of thunder could be heard and the first lightning strike the sky clean in half. Right now, Elijah’s eyes were that sky, dark and stormy, a rage so potent in them she was strangely fascinated by it. The muscle of his jaw tensed impossibly more and she worried he might crack it entirely.

She had never seen him so angry.

If not for the soft contact between their hands, she might have been a little scared. Just a little. Because she remembered those words and in that moment, there was perfect clarity.

Always and forever.

She was quite certain that, should she ask him to end her sire, to bring her his head, he would. Happily, gleefully and without a hint of regret. She wasn’t sure she herself would feel any, and wasn’t that a nasty little surprise.

She should feel regret. She knew that even just bringing up the subject with him meant placing Damon (and by extension, Stefan) in the line of fire, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret anything. She’d waited so long to give voice to those feelings—the shame, the disgust, the loathing, the pain. She would not take them back now.

“Say the word, lovely Elena, and he will suffer.”

It really shouldn’t have been even remotely attractive, the way he said it. But it was, and she let herself feel it.

“I… I don’t know what I want.”

Elijah nodded, a tiny movement of his head, but full of understanding. She took a breath. One hard part was done, but there was still the larger question, looming in the back of her skull. She was more than a little worried, though. What she wanted to ask him—what she needed him to do… that would violate the terms of their friendship like never before. She didn’t want to ask it of him but she knew she needed to remember something else, and for the life of her she couldn’t remember what. But she knew it was important. Her brain was shielding her for a reason, but she—the Elena who had had her choices taken from her at every turn since her transformation—needed to know.

Or else how could she hope to feel whole again?

So, she straightened, automatically readying herself to launch into an x, y, z explanation of why that was the best choice—and why she was making it.

“There’s something else.”

Elijah tensed, she was surprised that she managed to notice it at all.

“But we can’t do this here…” she chewed on her lip, eyes flickering between him and the other patrons in the bar. “Is there somewhere… somewhere more…” she gestured wordlessly, tired already.

But Elijah had never needed words to understand her, certainly not with the way he was watching her now. It was strangely reminiscent of a hawk, but it wasn’t discomforting.

Maybe an owl. A wise, old owl trying to figure out the puzzle before him. Funnily, she had never before thought of herself as “puzzling” but judging by his look, she might have to reconsider. She was, in her honest opinion, an incredibly simple person: she loved her family and friends, was far too oblivious of things until it was too late, took her coffee ninety percent black, and never failed to help out when it was needed.

But looking at herself in Elijah’s dark brown eyes the reflection she saw was not one of simplicity.

“There is somewhere more discreet. I doubt anyone will be here at this hour.”

“Not even vampires?” She asked as he helped her out of her chair.

He smirked. Elijah Mikaelson actually honest to god smirked at her.

“They know better.”

She laughed.

❧

“A church? Seriously?”

Elijah made a show of ushering her in, suited up arm extended in invitation.

“It’s not even Sunday.”

“Thankfully.”

In the silence of the church, Elena repressed a giggle with great difficulty. It was quieter than a tomb, inside. Although, she really wasn’t sure who had first come up with this particular phrase, but she’d love to hear their explanation because in her informed opinion, tombs were anything but quiet. There was always the whisper of the wind, the pitter-patter of bugs and rodents foraging in the cracked stones paving the way to the afterlife.

Or maybe that was just her experience since she’d turned.

Huh.

She took in her surroundings. It was obvious that the place had sat deserted for a while but had just been opened up again. There were wood planks lined along the walls and several canvas sheets haphazardly thrown around on the pews.

“Where are we?” She asked, taking in the smell of dust, wood and stone.

Elijah’s footsteps echoed behind her. “St Anne’s Church. Our local priest seems to be out tonight.”

“You know the priest?”

He had been pagan, in his youth, right?

Elijah gave her his signature half-smile in response, dragging a finger through the dust that had settled on one the benches. “He’s Camille’s uncle.”

“Small world.”

“Welcome to New Orleans.”

Exhaling on a chuckle, Elena sat down on one of the benches, somewhere between the door and the altar, at the middle point of the nave. She didn’t know why but she didn’t feel good enough to sit at the front. Elijah took a seat next to her, their shoulders brushing together, his presence grounding her. On a whim, before she could think better of it, she grasped his hand, gripping perhaps a little too tightly. He didn’t complain, simply resuming his earlier soothing caresses on the back of hers.

“I need to ask you something, Elijah.”

“You can ask anything of me, lovely Elena.”

He was sincere. She didn’t have to look at him to know that.

“You probably won’t like it.” She warned.

He tilted his head in question; she heard the soft sound of his collar brushing against his jaw.

She took the plunge and braced herself for the ice cold rush of the water.

“I need you to compel me.”

❧

Whatever it was that Elijah had expected to hear, it certainly wasn’t that.

His shoulders tensed on instinct, his lips parting on a soft gasp. Elena’s hand gripped his tighter, perhaps afraid he would let go.

He never could have, anyway.

Her eyes flickered up to meet his, meeting the wide-eyed stare he couldn’t even begin to disguise. There was a pleading at the bottom of hers, pooling in the form of tears that gathered on her lashes before falling softly, tracing her cheeks with wet streaks. He fought against the urge to wipe them away.

“I need you to help me remember something. There’s… I—” she took in a breath, exhaled, completely oblivious to the feeling that ignited in him when heard the words “need” and “you” in the same sentence, coming from her. She tried again. “There’s something… something I can’t place, a… a darkness that lingers at the edge of my mind when I try to think back on what happened.”

He brought his hand up then, unable to face her tears and remain still. He caught a strand of her and brought it behind her ear, revealing more of her beautiful face. The wide doe eyes that met his could only belong to her.

“What happened when?” He prompted, gently running his thumb back and forth along her jaw.

She sighed, leaning into his touch. He marveled at being able to touch her so freely.

“When I was still sired to Damon.”

The way she bit out the words made his heart clench. There was indeed something in her eyes, a strange haunting of sorts. It darkened the edges of her eyes slightly, turning warm brown into dark chocolate. It would have been quite bewitching if not for her tears.

Centuries of instinct suddenly woke up in his chest, growling as it shook itself awake, unfurling from a long sleep.

“I just… I need to make sure of something.” She rushed on, “I know that my brain is likely trying to protect me but—” she growled softly, tugging her hair back, “but I don’t want to be protected. I want to remember it all.” He brushed his thumb under her eyelid, catching a single tear, making her sigh again. She seemed to shrink, releasing his hand and drawing her arms around herself. He recognized it for the protection mechanism it was.

The beast in his chest growled louder.

“I feel like half myself and I don’t even know why. It’s exhausting.”

She looked back up at him, her beautiful eyes full of unshed tears that threatened to fall at any moment. He was powerless to resist. He knew then he would do whatever it was she asked of him if only to never have to see her cry again.

“Tell me what you need me to do.”

The relief in her eyes was unmistakable. He realized with a start that she had expected him to argue with her. He pursued his lips, caressing her jaw again. These… children truly had worked a number on her.

“I need you to compel me to remember it all. Tell me to remember everything that happened while I was under the influence of the sire bond.” She said in as determined a tone as he had ever heard from her.

And so, he complied.

Gently, he took her face in his hands, holding her tenderly, like she was made of porcelain. He supposed, in his hands, she always would be. And he compelled her, her pupils dilating as she took in his order, body growing first lax and then as taught as a bowstring. Her hand shot out to dig into his thigh and the feeling would have registered as painful if his attention hadn’t been fixed on the utter devastation on her face.

She took a breath but it came out as a sob, a heart wrenching sound that tore him apart.

“He… oh my god, he—” she looked up at him, wide-eyed, and he felt the beast in his heart bare its teeth, “he… he didn’t… oh god—oh god, no, I—I didn’t want to! I didn’t! Oh my god—” she whimpered, and he finally couldn’t take it anymore.

Slowly, gently, he took her in his arms as she sobbed. She molded to him, her small hands gripping his shirt so tightly he was certain she would rip it off. She curled up, half in his lap, and buried her head against his neck, her tears soaking his collar.

He was certain of only one thing as he gently rocked her against him, wincing as the scream she let out into his shoulder tore though his heart.

Damon Salvatore would die a slow, painful death for what he had done.

❧

Elena wasn’t sure how long she cried in Elijah’s arms, only that he never once let her go. He was careful not to hold her too tightly, and she knew he had understood the magnitude of what she had just uncovered.

Damon hadn’t stopped himself from sleeping with her while she was under the influence of the sire bond. He hadn’t tried to free her from it, once he’d known, and he’d carried on as things were and she, helpless to do anything but please him, had done exactly just that.

But now, with the veil lifted, she knew in her heart that she hadn’t wanted to. It was too soon after Stefan, too early in her transition. The feelings of love had been heightened by her Turning and by the sire bond, turning into a deadly cocktail of dependence. If only she had known.

She whimpered, a broken sob wrenching its way out of her—how many did she have left? It couldn’t be many, she was so very tired.

Elijah’s arms tightened around her, his hand stroking her hair gently. She felt the ghost of his lips at the crown of her head, the touch doing more to calm her than anything had so far.

She hadn’t wanted to sleep with Damon. But she had anyway, forced by the sire bond.

And it should matter to her that he hadn’t known that. That he hadn’t known that she didn’t want him like that, not yet anyway, but it didn’t. It should matter that, technically, he had also been a victim of the sire bond, unable to stop it, but it didn’t. Because once he had known, he hadn’t taken steps to help her out of it and she wasn’t in a position to help herself.

He got exactly what he wanted.

A Katherine do-over.

Elena barely registered the anger before she was flipping an entire bench over, throwing it against the walls of the church. There was a vicious feeling in her chest, clawing its way out and she lashed out again, ripping the legs off of the bench and breaking them in half, the wood splintering into her hands, drawing blood from cuts that healed almost immediately.

Fury, that was the feeling.

It was so unfamiliar that she was momentarily stunned by the sheer force of it.

Her eyes flashed red, veins rippling on her cheeks and she flipped another bench on its head before collapsing on the floor, crying again.

She had loved him. Had been on her way to falling in love with him.

And he had betrayed her.

She was so very tired. Tired of feeling, tired of remembering, tired of existing. The pain of that betrayal, the shame that came with it, added to the duller, less pronounced pain of his hand in shutting off that part of her that made her her protruded from her heart in sharp edges and she distantly wondered if that’s what being staked felt like.

Until she felt Elijah’s arms around her once more. Effortlessly, he scooped her up into his arms, cradling her like she was something infinitely precious to him. She barely registered the blur of movements and the wind in her hair that indicated he was running. She was so bone tired that the comforting warmth of the blanket he draped over her before running a hand down the side of her face barely registered with her either.

Through the haze of her tears, she saw his face, eyebrows drawn together in worry. He tucked the blanket a little higher under her chin and she managed to grasp onto the edges, burrowing under it.

“Is there anything you need?” His voice was pained, a small crack the dead giveaway to the unbelievable fury she could feel rolling off him.

She shook her head, sniffling.

“Do you want me to call your friends? Caroline, perhaps?”

All she could do was shrug, entirely unsure about everything. Her world had just toppled over. But Elijah hadn’t. He was here, as stalwart as he had always been and there was at least an inkling of hope that lit up in her at that.

She had been right.

She was right to trust him.

#now imagine when she discovers what Damon did to Caroline?#basically that's terapsina's fic and for that reason alone you should 100% go read it #the dynamics between Elijah and Elena here are heavily inspired by Anonymous Observer's fic #it's an absolute masterpiece my friends #10/10 recommend #anyway i might turn this into a series over on ao3 but no promises #elijah mikaelson #elena gilbert #elijah x elena #elejah #fanfic #tvdu #tvd fandom #the originals #to #my writing #Elena goes to NOLA and reunites with Elijah #who's still 100% whipped

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jarateblog · 1 year ago

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The Ultimate Gary Numan Album Recap

(long post, you don't have to read it unless you really want to)

Because my OCD willed it into existence. Over the past couple weeks I've been relistening to each of Numan's albums and felt like I'd just write short reviews/recommendations for each of them. I planned to make a page on my website for him, but I may just end up copy-pasting this post on there or embedding it in some fashion since the blog function here works pretty well. Without further ado:

Tubeway Army (1978)

His first album with his initial band lineup still going under the name of Tubeway Army. Early demos heard on The Plan compilation show how rooted these tracks were in the stereotypical punk sound of the late '70s, but his songwriting and alien-like vocals made them unique and fun to listen to. The addition of synths to the final renditions of the songs that ended up on this album punch and feel overwhelming on a good stereo, illustrating Numan's common retelling of discovering synthesizers for the first time. While I feel it may be a hard sell for some on first listen because of Gary's idiosyncratic voice, I feel approaching with an open mind will provide a satisfying listen.

Replicas (1979)

Still under the Tubeway Army name, this is technically their last album and the transition to Gary's "solo" career. The Tubeway Army lineup would still be his backing band until 1981. This album is one of his most successful though and it makes sense. There are even more synth-heavy hits that utilize the electronic sound in place of guitars, and an overlapping but loose set of narratives about a dystopian future of androids going about their dingy, daily lives. I feel his lyrics are probably at their most creative here, as they aren't as repetitive in their format as they would kind of become from here on. A high recommend for a listen to the full album, especially if you're familiar with "Are 'Friends' Electric" or "Down in the Park," two of his most popular singles.

The Pleasure Principle (1979)

Artists in the '70s were cracked. Making two albums within the span of a year is insane, especially when they're both masterpieces. Outside of the obvious worldwide hit "Cars," every track is worth a listen on here too. If I were to critique, however, this is the beginning of Gary finding one instrument sample and sticking to it for a few years before finding something else to use to death. The string synth heard on "Cars" is everywhere on this album, even right from the beginning on "Airlane." It's far from a bad sound, it's actually really cool, very sci-fi-esque, but it's still worth noting that you'll hear it pretty frequently until around '82. With the strings, however, every track feels like an orchestrated event with a rock touch, and the bass and drum work is sublime.

Telekon (1980)

An even more grandiose event than The Pleasure Principle. The opening of "This Wreckage" is still one of the most satisfying introductions to any album for me. The lyrics have a sense of finality to them, partially because Gary planned to retire from the fame and elaborate live shows after its release. It is overall a great close to his self-dubbed 'Machine-Era,' although I'm not a big fan of every song on here to find it a complete masterpiece. The singles released around this era are some of my most favorites of his, however, like "I Die: You Die" and "We Are Glass."

Dance (1981)

Man, did this one take FOREVER to grow on me. Perhaps the most experimental of Numan's work, his original band went on to form their own ill-fated group Dramatis (that Gary still featured on) while he brought on many well-respected producers and instrumentalists to help bring this project to life. It's got ambience, jazz, funk, and rock, and is a long ride in comparison to his previous albums, reaching almost 50 minutes in length (two songs are almost 10 minutes on their own!). It's one of my favorites now though. I'm so glad I gave it another chance after so many years.

Even though I had a hard time getting into it originally, I feel that anybody who has had a longer stake in music than me would find appreciation much quicker than I did.

I, Assassin (1982)

The first album of his that I'm a bit more mixed on. While I feel instrumentally, it is outstanding, this is also one of Gary's most inconsistent vocal performances. Fretless bass provided by Pino Palladino is what gives this album a distinct, sometimes improvisational sound, but it is often marred by lots of vocal drags of Numan's that either don't fit with the funky, danceable grooves, or fail to flow into each other well. Regardless, there are still great tracks like "War Songs" and the B-Sides "The Image Is" and "Noise Noise."

Warriors (1983)

His last album on the Beggars Banquet label, and what feels like another end to another era of his music. Continuing with the experimental, ambient, and funk inspirations from his previous two albums, this album is highly mixed by the public. It took some time for me to fully appreciate, but I like this album about just as much as I, Assassin, if not more on occasion. Unfortunately, this was the beginning of consistent female backing vocals being introduced to his music (something Gary has documented before as a recommendation from Beggars, who must've started losing faith in the uniqueness of his voice). They aren't that bad here, though, the '80sisms of their presence had yet to come I think. Gary's vocals are much more consistent and confident here too (perhaps as a response to the backing vocals being added). Personally, I feel the singles "Warriors" and "Sister Surprise" are the most catchy, while the many other tracks fit well as deep cuts despite their slower compositions.

Berserker (1984)

His first album on his newly opened Numa label. This era started off with a bang that would be nearly impossible to follow up on subsequent albums in the decade. Numan's new ghostly image is paired with heavy drums, icy synths, an occasional oriental theme, and remix-like production edits. Not every song is a masterpiece despite Gary owning full creative control over his music at this point, as he still brought the backing vocals with him and they're even more prominent than last time. He must have taken the haters' criticisms to heart... There is a heavier focus on a pop-funk sound too, which can at times date this record. I still love it despite its flaws and would consider it one of my favorites of his.

(Side note: Gary uses an old slang/offensive term for lesbian on "This Is New Love," but within the context of the lyrics and album concept he isn't condoning the use of it. I guess you could call it a MF DOOM situation, IYKYK)

(Side Side note: Albums from the rest of this decade into 1994 are nearly impossible to listen to in full on streaming services because the current rights holders are lazy, make bad digital transfers, and Gary's ashamed of this era in retrospect. I don't blame him for some, but it's not all bad. The stuff is easy to find on YouTube though. Numa records really didn't release copies outside of the UK either, so a lot of the stuff is absurdly expensive today and piracy is the only feasible way to listen in 'high' quality without going broke.)

The Fury (1985)

While Berserker felt like the perfect start to a new era of Numan's career, The Fury dives further into what I found to be the weaker aspects of it. Opening track "Call Out the Dogs" seems to question the lack of radio play he's been receiving, and this becomes a common theme for MANY, and I mean, MANY of his songs in this decade. In later interviews, Gary has often discussed feeling insecure during this period, and that lead to very uninspired lyrics.

Other tracks are honestly just kind of disgusting to listen to because they require you to suspend your disbelief that Gary is some sort of stud who gets all the ladies (I mean, look at the cover, who wouldn't want a man in a white tux???/s He's legitimately sexy as a DILF nowadays tho ngl). The female backing vocals are at their most prevalent and grating too, often overpowering Gary's own and exuding a level of '80s cheese that no one should have to be subjected to (no offense to the singers, they just shouldn't have been on this album).

I will still say that the song "Tricks" is really good though. I wish the stems for this album would leak or something, because minus the vocals it is quite fun to listen to. There are even more metallic sounding synthesizers that paired with the funky rhythms could really stand on their own. It's noticeably lower in budget than Berserker though, using many stock samples that ignore the sound experimentation he used to employ. I don't hate this album, but it is very mediocre and insulting in comparison to what came before and after.

Strange Charm (1986)

A more positive package than The Fury, thankfully. About 7/8 of the songs on this album are good, great, or amazing, with some being his very best. "My Breathing" is a long, Mideast-inspired piece which he occasionally performs live today, and "New Thing from London Town" is a foreboding collaboration with Bill Sharpe from Shakatak (who'll show up later). Thankfully, the backing singers are actually in the back for the majority of this album, which helps enhance the experience like on Warriors rather than overpower it like on The Fury. There's a broader use of electronics here too, helping it stand out among his other albums from this era.

Metal Rhythm (1988)

As the name implies, there is a heavier focus on using loud, reverb-heavy drums, akin to many industrial acts of the late '80s. Unfortunately, because it seems Gary had never listened to bands like Cabaret Voltaire, Ministry, or Skinny Puppy at the time (or he had but was too afraid to take the risk), this album still leans heavily into the pop-funk style like The Fury. Minus the often uninspired or questionable lyrics...

On "Voix": "I don't like young girls, I don't like boys; I like some bitch to scare me, I like that noise"

?????

...there are some tracks that hit exceptionally well. He even played "Voix" well into the '00s, although he never bothered to improve the lyrics. About half of the songs here are good and catchy, but they come with some caveats. The rest are bland attempts at radio-friendly sounding music with generic synth pads and repetitive choruses although the lyrics often gave stations reasons not to air them.

(Another side note: Because his own Numa Records were running low on funds, Gary had to move to Illegal Records in the UK and I.R.S. Records in the US. Therefore, most countries outside of the UK finally received this album as New Anger a year later with an extremely botched track lineup. The original is still probably the preferred way to listen, IMO, but this album as New Anger is available for streaming)

Automatic (1989)

Throughout the '80s, Gary collaborated with Bill Sharpe of the band Shakatak to provide vocals to what were mostly Sharpe-composed synth-pop songs. This album is a sort of compilation of all their tracks from 1984 to 1989 (minus "New Thing from London Town" which featured on Strange Charm), with this album's own "I'm On Automatic." They are very of the time, but well-produced, catchy, and fit together regardless of the years each track originally released. I feel Gary could have utilized more input like this in his sound during the mid-to-late '80s on his own albums, because as it stands, this is one of my favorite (partial) projects of his! According to him in later interviews, he considered collaborating more, but didn't want to rely on other people for his image and career. Which, I suppose that's understandable. Still, for as rough as the '80s had been on him, it may have been better for his mental health in the end.

Outland (1991)

Probably my least favorite album of his.

*GASP,* the imaginary Numanoid I made up in my head reading this goes

Sort of an experimental album like Dance, in the sense it attempts to build an atmosphere with "Interval" tracks and segues. Musically, many songs just feel off, like they're in the wrong key, but it's more likely that it's just an unfitting choice of instrument samples being used. They're often stock or cheap sounding.

It again goes for a pop-funk sound with some more prominent soul influences. "Confession" is a guilty pleasure, "My World Storm" is pretty good, and "Dream Killer" is one of his better ballads, but I can't really stand to listen to the rest. It's not that they ooze too much cheese that it's fondue, they're just... failed attempts at making fromage bleu... I don't know where the fuck I'm going with this.

You may like it. As implied above, there are actually many fans of this album in the community. My thoughts below will probably discredit all my other reviews anyways.

Machine + Soul (1992)

Funny that both Numan and Aphex Twin sample the same thing around the same time lol. Gary's self-proclaimed "low-point" to pay off debts. He claims that this album is musically sound, but not a Numan album, and to that I say BULLSHIT because he's been making non-Numan albums for about a decade at this point if going by his implied definition of what makes one! Anyways, beyond the romanticism of claiming this is the worst to push everything afterwords on a needless pedestal, this album is FINE. It's a perfectly FINE record. It's dated by about 5 years in its style and production, but so was Outland.

Hell, I'd even call some songs good. Great, even. The title track rocks. "Generator" is a slightly embarrassing but catchy pop song. "The Skin Game" is relentless though. One of my least favorite tracks that oddly became one of my favorites upon revisiting. It's actually quite introspective for this time in his career. The lyrics are very self-deprecating when reading into them and it makes sense that Numan almost quit his career after releasing this album. It's veiled under backing vocal refrains that mimic a standard pop song, but it's actually quite bleak. Sounds like something off Cabaret Voltaire's CODE, just half a decade too late. "I Wonder" and "Love Isolation" are two of my favorites of his as well. They evoke a lot of what makes his subsequent '90s releases so good. The B-Sides and Demos of this album (and admittedly many his '80s albums) also really demonstrate that he could make some killer ambient, ominous, or somber tracks that just wouldn't fit with his desire to appeal to radio-play.

You could also tell that he had to really push the runtime for tracks to reach about 50min in total with samples and room to let the drum machines just go, but there aren't many tracks that are hard to listen all the way through. "Poison" is one exception, which has an off-key sounding trumpet reminiscent of Outland and a poor attempt at Gary trying to rap... I think? The Prince cover of "U Got the Look" is fine but sad as Gary rarely covered any artist throughout his career. Plus, Prince should've been the one covering Numan.

Sacrifice (1994)

If Machine + Soul HAD Gary's soul and desires to make what he always wanted. While this album was a sign of things to come, for better or for worse (lyrical themes focusing too much on hardcore atheism basically, something he would only allude to in passing on previous albums), this album is a perfect example of making something with what you have. The ultimate industrial mindset as it were. His to-be wife supposedly introduced him to a world of music he hadn't experienced in his chase for attempted radio-friendly material, including Depeche Mode and Nine Inch Nails' mainstream industrial records of the time, and the new influences are worn on this album's sleeve while still feeling completely original.

Gone are the backing singers with the exception of the one and only TJ Davis (yes, of Sonic R fame) who adds to the emotion of "Scar" in its chorus and bridge. Every track is amazing on here to me, so it's undeniably my favorite album of his along with Replicas and Dance. Sure, it's lacking any sort of production that should have been expected at the time, and for such a relatively high-profile artist, but it has such raw emotion and energy in it that was sorely missing from his albums in the decade preceding it. It was almost entirely created and produced by himself, with some additional guitar and help from M+S producer, Kipper. So, with no live percussion, Gary just intentionally programmed the drum machines and sequencers to be relentless in their composition while he could focus on singing.

May not be everyone's cup of tea, but it's certainly how I like mine. It's just a shame it's not available on any streaming services.

Exile (1997)

Thanks to the turning point of Sacrifice and a conveniently released tribute album by Beggars, his resurgence into popularity seemed to help Numan release this album with a greater budget and worldwide release. You can actually stream this album! While Sacrifice had many moments of introspection and outward atheism, Exile creates a fictitious narrative where there is no distinction between Heaven and Hell. Some fans left at this point because of the concrete shift in lyrical topics. I personally don't care as I'm not religious myself, but I don't have a hate boner for it like Numan. I feel the lyrics could have been fleshed out more for a better defined world that he is describing though.

Although the tracks still rely heavily on drum machines, there is a heavier focus on live guitar, even an acoustic which shows up in the final, eponymous track, ending the album on a somber but foreboding note in its strummed chords. The rest of the album feels fittingly dark for its themes and expression, and Gary's vocals are often shrouded in reverb like he's singing in a black, empty room. There's an official extended version of this album (as well as the rest of his Numa releases minus Strange Charm for some reason), and it's well worth listening to on its own even though some tracks are pretty lazily edited to be longer (like the opener/lead single "Dominion Day").

Pure (2000)

Probably the first true album of Gary's modern era, so his recent albums can be referred back to here for their song structures. As a result, this is where I slightly fall off of the hype train as sacrilege as that may sound coming from me. There are still some elements of the previous Sacrifice and Exile albums here (mainly the keyboard samples), but a greater focus on utilizing live studio recorded equipment that leans further into what I self-dub "headache-metal." Think of NIN from The Fragile onwards, or bands like Pearl Jam, Breaking Benjamin, etc (I know that's A LOT of crossover but if you grew up in the '90s or '00s you probably have at least an inkling of what I'm getting at).

Therefore, this may be just the perfect album for those who like those bands! It's just not my thing, personally. That's where I like the more fast-paced tracks like "Listen to My Voice" or slow but calmer songs like "Little InVitro" (which mourns his wife's miscarriage). He never fully devolves into screamo territory, but he does do a lot of yelling here. This album is LOUD. Like, the first album of his I had the turn the volume DOWN for. Potentially a result of the loudness wars.

Jagged (2006)

The time between Pure and Jagged was filled with smaller collaborations, remix projects, and touring. His touring band started getting involved more in the recording process though, with guitarist Steve Harris finally being given the credit he deserves (I have one of his guitar picks, so I'm biased!). I think Gary was also trying to find someone to help produce this album, leading him to Ade Fenton, who briefly joined his live band on keyboards and has now been his main producer for the past 15+ years. Ade's production work isn't as prominent here, but there is a greater use of electronics than on Pure throughout. It's a bit more of the same though.

Many tracks blend together in sound and lyrical topics (though the latter is expected if you read my parts on Sacrifice and Exile). Tracks "Halo" and "Haunted" are pretty good, but that's probably because I've heard them live a couple times that I can recall them from those experiences lol. This album feels LONG though. Over an hour for 11 base tracks. The slow pace of most of them doesn't help.

Thankfully, two years later, Jagged Edge released (and thankfully, is available on streaming, unfortunately the original version for comparison isn't) and helps give some tracks a more distinct identity. It's a remix album worked on by a number of people including Fenton and members of Sulpher (who produced Pure) that polishes up some demos and edits of final tracks. There are two discs, but I think the first beats out the second in content. So, kind of like Rush's Vapor Trails.

Dead Son Rising (2011)

An odd release from the past two decades of his work, at least in the sense that it's only about 40 minutes in total when removing the edits of two existing tracks. Some call this an EP, especially for its limited physical release (requiring you to stream or go broke nowadays), but I think this project has the perfect length for an album. Because it doesn't stretch into the hour territory, songs can comfortably last for 3-5 minutes and feel memorable. Unlike Pure and Jagged, I can actually name every track on this album! The lyrical themes are a lot more abstract here too, helping distinct them from 'unfiltered atheism' like his previous few albums.

The production is a lot cleaner, so guitars are less muddy and headache-enducing. "Big Noise Transmission" and "Not the Love We Dream of" are some of my favorites of his career, and I got so hyped when I first heard him play "The Fall" live. Highly recommend this for its modern production and length. Definitely my favorite release of his in the 21st century so far.

Splinter: Songs from a Broken Mind (2013)

An album inspired by recent marital issues and bouts with depression Gary had been dealing with. Thankfully, during the production of this album, things seemed to work themselves out. Songs are often very emotional and slowly build to a powerful climax, utilizing string sections akin to what was present in the late '70s/early '80s for him, just with heavy electric guitars spruced throughout. There are very few up-tempo tracks but "Love Hurt Bleed," a standout that I'm still convinced plays better live than on here. "I Am Dust" is outstanding and the music video for it is probably the only one worth watching out of the rest of his 'videography' (I kid, but most MVs for him are very low-budget and just focus a camera on his face the whole time).

Despite how negative I may sound on here, I do really like this album. It's perhaps just a bit too long and some tracks could have been scrapped and used as B-Sides. I also have a bit more appreciation for the officially-released demos on the Deluxe version that clearly have less of producer Ade Fenton's touch. Feels more dark and gothic than Ade's definition of ""industrial.""

Savage: Songs from a Broken World (2017)

Likely his most accessible modern album, especially for how many new fans it introduced to his work (myself, kinda included, it's complicated). Inspired by a story he supposedly wrote (but for the life of me cannot find a published copy of) about civilization in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, with a heavy emphasis on the Middle Eastern region for aesthetics and compositions. There are more uptempo tracks than on Splinter, but many can still blur together and sound the same, and that's nothing to say about the slower tracks that fit the structure of stuff seen since Jagged.

Gary's vocals are at an all time peak, however, and his own daughter Persia (who helps fit in the regional theme by name alone) adds some additional backing vocals. You can barely tell she's there half the time though, along with Steve Harris or Tim Slade (guitar and bass, respectively), because everything has been post-processed with the same booming, heavy synth sound (supposedly Omnisphere software). It's cool when used sparingly, like on Splinter (even NIN uses a similar sound on The Fragile), but it's too repetitive at times. There aren't really excuses to not diversify the palette even slightly when this album had 4 years in the oven and in the 21st century no less. The Pleasure Principle was made in less than a year in the '70s, so its repetitiveness I feel has its excuses to exist (plus, it still sounds more diverse thanks to the help of the Tubeway Army lineup's bassist and drummer).

Don't want to shit on it too much, it's not a terrible album, but I really wish its success didn't give Gary and Ade Fenton the idea to just keep going in this direction. It's certainly a gateway album for those looking for some heavy electronic rock/metal/industrial, but I feel after listening to the rest of his catalogue this album gets pushed further back in listening preference for me. I've seen many a new fan whose enjoyment of this album just lowers as time goes on too.

Intruder (2021)

At times, diet Savage. I personally find the songs on here much more sonically diverse, but the compositions are very familiar to the past two decades. I'm convinced "Saints and Liars" is just a repackaged "My Name is Ruin" for how similar their chord progressions are. This album was inspired by a poem by his youngest daughter as part of a school assignment that questions the destruction of the environment from the Earth's perspective. Right up my alley, as a tree-hugging freak myself!

As an album released in 2021, there are a couple moments that allude to COVID like on "The Gift," one of the Earth's methods to alarm the population to their actions. It's overall an interesting concept, but it still could have been further fleshed out. The lyrics mostly mirror vague topics and atheism again.

I've seen him live 3 times since its release and I've nevertheless enjoyed every show he's performed. I'm just hoping the future takes a step in a fresher direction, like what Dead Son Rising had going for it.

Conclusion

I can be very critical of Numan's output, especially in recent times, but it is because he is one of my favorite artists that I know can make some amazing and memorable works regardless of who he collaborates with. I wouldn't call him my FAVORITE artist, but my near-religious regimen of listening to him every other day speaks otherwise. Perhaps it is a form of Stockholm Syndrome because I am too deep into the pipeline at this point. I'll shamefully call myself a Numanoid, I collect too much of his shit to be considered anything else.

He's a very open person with official released interviews available from even extremely early on in his career. We know his story better than many, so it's a bit of a shame when some, including himself, overlook certain aspects of his history and the context behind it in order to glorify certain aspects (such as in the case of M+S's reputation). Then again, I can't claim to be a scholar as I have yet to listen to EVERY interview that's easily available. There's definitely gaps I'm missing or have been misinformed on as well.

In my honest opinion, I really do not have high hopes for the rest of this decade of output as long as he sticks with Ade Fenton. Even his oldest daughter is looking to make a break in the industry and he is producing her album (and is a bit too close to her in pictures... That's like at least 20y in age difference...). He's a perfectly competent producer, better than anything I can do, but he has so little diversity in his sound choices and I feel Gary's (and potentially Raven's) sound has suffered as a result. Gary has had an issue with a lack of experimentation too, his lenience is why Ade can continue what he does, but as much as I didn't care for Sulpher, they were at least providing something a bit less samey when it came to Pure and Jagged Edge. That's why I'm afraid of the Sacrifice, Exile, and Pure remakes due to release some time this decade. They deserve better production, yes, but their charm will undoubtedly be lost in translation.

All I can do is stay positive, however, and continue supporting his efforts until I can obviously tell he's running out of steam and wants to retire. I doubt that though, he's got too much energy and flexibility for his age.

Anyways.

How original, a tier list. Here are my objective facts, not opinions /s.

This is not concrete, but about the same as it's been whenever I've made it other years. Savage has only moved down while M+S has moved up though, lol. Maybe one day it will usurp it, you never know.

#gary numan #album review #retrospective #music #choppost

2 notes · View notes

bradshawsbitch · 1 year ago

Text

oh lord, leah - my love, my creative beautiful soul, i am so sorry it took me so long to be able to get back to you on this absolute masterpiece! i really wanted to give this the attention it deserved, hence the long wait. i feel i need to tell you that i've thought of this story at least once every day since i read it, and i love it so much.

the way you write, i'll never get over it, i think it's known by now that i'm just such a whore for imagery and painting scenes with words - it's one of your strengths i feel - to paint with words in a way that makes it all so incredibly easy for me as a reader to just submerge myself into a land or place i've never been. perhaps it is a place that only exists in your beautiful mind? either way, you have me along for the ride.

just as how you've made backforty gap in btdcfy, you have also made this city, this restaurant, the home rhett and his sugar shares - so life like. backforty gap to me feels like home, it feels comfortable and easy and eery. this feels warm, and with just that zinge of unease of looking over your shoulder, or being tense about what people are saying behind your back.

having been a waitress and having experienced some of the details in the story just makes it so much more !!!!! for me because god, how many times have i not dreamed of a rhett to come sweep me away. that's another thing I love, the way in which you incorporate realism through the sort of subconscious mind of the narrator!! like ugh, it's brilliant, it's beautiful, it's art!

under the cut are some highlights!

Quick as a flash, Rhett Abbott stood up. “Enough!” His voice boomed through the diner, and everyone went dead silent, including the boys who’d been picking on you.

listen you know i'm a whore for protective rhett and just... this whole scene, like a few couple of paragraphs really had a bitch squealing and panting and just writhing with joy!!!! god!!

It wasn’t long before he was settling into bed, all while you were still busy at your vanity, going through your skincare ritual. He gave you that time to yourself as he cracked open the book he’d been reading the last few nights, perching his reading glasses on his nose as he did so.

mmmmm maybe i want to ride the old man until he's gone cross-eyed and his glasses are crooked? did you ever think of that hm?

You pulled it over your body and then rested your arms over the inflated edge, breathing out a sigh as you let yourself float around aimlessly. You rested your head atop your hands, letting your eyes drift shut as the water gently lapped at your body. It felt heavenly, and you relished in every moment of it. You couldn’t believe that this was your reality. A giant in-ground pool in the middle of a glorious ranch in Wyoming. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined you’d be in this position, but here you were, all thanks to your million dollar man.

okay see this is what i'm talking about! this whole scene, i envision so so so vividly. like i imagine pines and woods in the distance, vast pastures and a clear blue sky in the early morning pale sun. and i can feel the water, y'know? i can see and hear and smell and feel all of the things you're describing here and that is just such a gift to have as a writer and i'm just constantly in awe of how you do it!! amazing!!

You gasped lowly when he closed his lips around the little bud, suckling softly. “Know I can’t resist these fuckin’ gorgeous titties,” he growled, teeth nipping at you. “I know,” you gasped, “‘s why I wore this set.” He grinned at you as he made quick work of untying the bottoms. “I figured. Dirty little slut, know exactly how to get daddy goin’, don’t ya?”

girl from here on out i was just straight up moaning and yowling the whole way through, like i'm not ashamed to admit i got so fucking wet it's ridiculous. you're just the fucking goddess of smut!! like how?!?!?!?! do you switch it up and make it so fckn sexy every damn time? genius. wizard. witchcraft!

He hummed in amusement. “Impatient lil thang,” he drawled. He growled low in his chest. “Yeah? Poor baby, daddy’ll give you what you need.”

straight up? oh my fucking god.

okay but listen... i'm a whore... we all know... but this?

“Look at me,” Rhett’s lilted baritone filled your fuzzy head, and you opened your eyes, locking your gaze with his. “Gon’ fill your pretty pussy up. Want you to take it all like my good little darlin’.”

this had me stuttering, breath hitching, chest fluttering - this is fucking hot and godddd leah!!!!! i'll never get over how well you slip in characterizations and emotions within filthy fuckin' moments?!?!?! like your craft is just!!! holy hell!! like just from the "good little darlin'" like oh kjaslkjdlasjd that's him saying i love you and it's just...

MMMMMMMMM DELICIOUS WRITING FUCK ME

million dollar man | rhett abbott

description: in which a mysterious, silver-haired cowboy rescues a young waitress who’s down on her luck

listen to the spotify playlist here!

warnings: 18+ ONLY, age gap (rhett is in his mid 40s, reader is in their 20s), mentions of sex work, workplace harassment, financial troubles, a little ageism, smoking, unprotected p in v sex, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamic, degradation, overstimulation, squirting, begging, choking, creampie, i think that's it?

pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader

notes: this is one of my longest stories to date. it started out as a simple smut scene and then it turned into an entire backstory. rhett has gray hair in this because i said so. i'm also dedicating this to my fellow old man fucker in arms, @rhettabbotts <3

It was late July. The air was hot and sticky, but the crystal water of the swimming pool was cool on your exposed skin as you sank down into its depths.

You couldn’t help but let out a long, blissed-out sigh, your eyes drifting shut at the feeling of the ripples washing over you. You couldn’t remember a time in your entire life when you’d felt this relaxed and at ease. Not a care in the world, floating through the water as if you were suspended in a dream.

And you were, really. A dream that had been made a reality by the man sitting just a few feet away from you, cigarette smoke swirling around him like a halo as the sunlight illuminated his figure, making him appear like an angel. And as far as you were concerned, he was just that: an angel. One who had saved your very life.

Rhett Abbott was a very powerful man. You couldn’t fully wrap your mind around just how powerful he was. It was something he never discussed with you, insisting that he didn’t want his demons tainting you.

While he had always been nothing but loving and kind to you, you had witnessed the ruthless side of him a few times, namely when he’d rescued you from your old life.

Rhett had come rolling into town in his Silverado, just passing through, and he met you at the hole-in-the-wall diner you waitressed at. You’d never forget seeing him for the first time. Tall and broad, tan Stetson balanced atop his head. A pair of worn Levi’s with a white T-shirt on top. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen.

He took his hat off as he took a seat at the counter, revealing a head of graying hair that sent your heart quickening in your chest. Then he smiled at you. You shyly offered him a menu, but he shook his head. “I’ll jus’ have a black coffee, ‘n two eggs, over easy. Toast, bacon, whatever you put on your usual breakfast plates. Please and thank ya.”

His voice caught your attention. Deep and low in his throat, lilted with an accent you couldn’t quite place. But it was clear he was from out west, that much you could tell.

“Of course! Anything else?” You asked as you scribbled his order down on your pad.

He considered it for a moment and then he said, “Some jam for the toast, if it ain’t a bother.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his politeness, despite his rough exterior. His shining blue eyes were gentle as they regarded you, and you found yourself distracted by them. You’d never seen eyes so blue. They looked like the ocean. You’d never been, but you’d seen pictures of water that was so blue it was breathtaking. His eyes were even prettier than that.

“C-comin’ right up,” you finally responded, realizing you were allowing your mind to wander.

You turned and put your order in with the cook before you quickly moved to pour a cup of coffee. Everything was going just fine until you turned and miss-stepped, sending yourself careening forward. To your utter horror, the mug of coffee slipped from your hands and hit the counter, splashing all over the man, effectively staining his white shirt.

You gasped sharply, steadying yourself before your hand shot up to cover your mouth. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! Are you alright?! Did it burn you?!” You were shifting into a panic, scrambling to grab a handful of bar towels you kept behind the counter. You rushed around, intending to help the man clean up the mess.

You were so wrapped up in your panic that you didn’t realize that he wasn’t angry with you at all. You were simply so used to customers, and your manager, being rude to you that you just expected a hostile reaction.

But just as you approached him, he slowly stood, and suddenly, a pair of steady hands were resting over top of your own. You looked up in surprise, only to find those crystal blues gazing steadily down at you.

“Hey now, don’t fret none, it was just an accident,” he assured you, and the deep velvet of his voice calmed you instantly, bringing you back to yourself, renewing your focus.

You stared at him in confusion. “I just spilled hot coffee on you, and you aren’t angry?”

He shook his head, gently taking the bar towels from you to dab at the stain himself. “Ain’t no use gettin’ angry over somethin’ you didn’t do on purpose. I got plenty more of these white shirts where this one came from. And I’ve had worse injuries than a measly little burn from some hot coffee. I’m fine. Promise.”

You let out a sigh of relief, your tense shoulders falling relaxed. “Oh, thank goodness. I really am sorry, though. I’m so clumsy.”

He moved to wipe up the mess from the counter, completely unbothered by it. But he was bothered, however, by the implications of your response. “You have people get angry at you often?” He asked.

You paused, considering your answer. “Well…some of the men that come in here aren’t very nice. Cranky truckers and whatnot. If you make a mistake they tend to get pissed and take it out on you. And my…” you glanced around to make sure no one was listening, “boss, he’s not the nicest guy out there. He says I’m too clumsy for my own good.”

Something flashed in those blue eyes. You swore they darkened a shade. “Huh. Well, they’re all fuckin’ assholes. You’re just doin’ your job.”

You were floored by his behavior. You’d expected him to insult you for your mistake, to call you some degrading name, like you’d been called so many times before. But instead, he’d offered you kindness and understanding.

“Thank you,” you earnestly replied.

He shrugged, taking a seat again on the stool he’d previously been perched upon. “‘s basic human decency to be nice to your fuckin’ waitress. ‘specially when she might have half a mind to spit in your food if you treat her like shit,” he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

You couldn’t help but smile at that, finally turning to gather up the coffee-stained towels and rounding the counter again. As you tossed the towels in a bucket nearby so you could wash them later, the cowboy leaned forward, still eyeing you.

“I’m Rhett, by the way,” he informed you.

You shyly gave him your name in return. “It’s nice to meet you,” you said.

“Likewise,” he echoed. His exterior seemed so rough. There was a tattoo of a steer skull inked into the skin of his left forearm. His face was fixed with hard lines, and although he still appeared youthful, you could tell he was older. Mid to late forties, if you had to guess. His eyes held untold stories, things he’d experienced that had turned him into the rough man he was today. But his exterior was misleading, because behind it, he was warm and kind.

You didn’t know it then, but this was the start of something bigger than you ever could have imagined. This man, with his ocean-blue eyes and velvet voice, would soon become your knight in shining armor.

Until then, the spell between you was quickly broken when you heard “Order up!” which caused you to jump in surprise.

You giggled softly at your own jitteriness, and quickly turned to retrieve Rhett’s food from the serving window, thanking Anton, the cook, as you did so. “Here you go! Need anything else?”

“Just a coffee refill,” he replied with a knowing smile.

“Oh! Of course! Sorry, I got so distracted!” You exclaimed in embarrassment as you hurried to pour him another cup of coffee, this time making sure not to spill it on him.

“Thank y’ kindly,” Rhett said.

“You’re welcome. Let me know if you need anything else!”

You busied yourself with sorting clean coffee mugs back into their respective stacks, all while Rhett tucked into his food. You found yourself wanting to speak to him further, to ask him questions about himself, but you were afraid of being a bother, and you were afraid you were misreading his kindness as an invitation to talk to him.

He’s just being nice, you thought. He doesn’t actually want to talk to me.

Besides, your boss, Martin, was just in the back. If he saw you bothering a customer he’d flip his lid and use it as an excuse to yell at you. It didn’t take much to piss him off, and for whatever reason, he seemed to particularly have it out for you. The least he was involved, the better.

Some might question why you kept this job if you were being mistreated by your boss. The fact of the matter was, you had no choice. You were desperately trying to keep up with your living expenses and rent to avoid being evicted from your home. You were severely behind on your utility bills, to the point where the city was going to start shutting things off if you didn’t pay up.

You were living paycheck to paycheck, barely staying afloat. This waitressing job was the only one you could get in this tiny town, and you didn’t have the time or resources to go hunting for a better-paying job. This was your lot in life, and you were trying to make due. However, you weren’t sure how much longer you could go on.

You tried your best to keep your head down and do your job, but with the way your boss behaved, and the way this town seemed to have it out for you, it was difficult. You seemed to have garnered a reputation, and you weren’t quite sure how it had started. You heard the way people talked about you when they thought you weren’t listening. Whispers of what you got up to after the sun went down. Accepting money from men in return for sexual acts.

The truth was, you were not involved in sex work. The only thing you could think might have started the rumor was the fact that Luke Jones, the sheriff’s one and only deputy, had propositioned you for sex once, and when you turned him down, he went off the rails and berated you in front of the whole diner. He must have decided to spread rumors about you behind your back, which had done great harm to your image, and changed the way people treated you. If the cops said you were bad news, everyone believed them,

You hated this tiny, conservative Christian town, but you were trapped with no escape.

Rhett Abbott was the first person who’d been genuinely kind to you in a long time. There was no judgment in his eyes as he looked upon you. Not even after you’d embarrassed yourself and spilled his coffee. It made your heart warm in your chest, and you decided that maybe this work shift wasn’t so bad after all.

Then he was asking you for a coffee refill and you were trying to hide your smile as you turned to grab the well-used coffee pot.

“Thanks,” he said with a nod and a crooked smile. It made your knees weak.

But the spell between you was soon broken by the sound of your name being gruffly spoken. You jumped, nearly spilling the coffee you were still holding. Rhett watched you, his eyes narrowing as you scrambled to put the carafe back in its place and rush to the back.

There was a man back there, and just by the time of his voice, Rhett could tell he was no good. He put two and two together and realized the man was your boss, who you’d already mentioned having a short fuse.

Rhett was a lot of things. He’d committed acts he wasn’t proud of. He had many enemies. There were those who would pay money to see him dead. But one thing he was not, was an abuser. He didn’t mistreat people just for the hell of it. And just from interacting with you, and seeing the way you reacted when you spilled his coffee, he could tell you had suffered a lifetime of mistreatment.

And that was when he found himself considering something he never thought he’d do. Maybe he was crazy. Maybe he’d been bashed in the head one too many times. Either way, he wondered if you would let him take you away from all of it.

He wasn’t sure why he was so enamored by you. He’d only just met you, and if he offered to take you away right then and there, he was sure you would say no. So he didn’t say anything. But he decided that he was going to remain in this godforsaken town a few more nights, just to see how things played out.

He hadn’t done much good in his life, but if he could rescue you from your unfortunate circumstances, maybe it would make up for all the years of sin and wickedness. Maybe he could do right by you. Give you the life you deserved, protect you from harm, give you freedom.

Until then, he wouldn’t jump the gun. He would wait patiently, and swoop in when you needed him to. Although, now seemed like a pretty good time to do that. He could hear your boss shouting, and it sent heat boiling beneath his skin.

But he resisted the urge to go back there and tear the man apart. He didn’t want to scare you, and such a reaction would be overkill, especially when he’d only known you all of forty-five minutes.

A few minutes later, you came back to the front, very obviously trying to make it look like you hadn’t been crying. At that point, Rhett had finished his food, and when you saw it, you quietly spoke to him.

“All ready to finish and pay?” You asked, avoiding eye contact.

Rhett leaned forward over the counter, lowering his voice. “Shouldn't let ‘im treat you that way.”

You paused, a fresh wave of tears welling in your eyes. You managed to lift your gaze to his, your bottom lip quivering. “I have no choice. It’s either work this job, or end up on the street.”

I could take you away from all this. Those were the words on the top of his tongue. But he refrained. Now wasn’t the time. “Yeah, well, he’s a goddamned prick. Y’ deserve better.”

You stared at him for a moment, your heart aching in your chest. His kindness and understanding were unfathomable to you. Why on earth was he being so nice? And that’s when your brain threw a negative thought at you that made everything come to a screeching halt. What if he was only being kind because he wanted something? He didn’t seem like a creep, and he hadn’t made you feel uncomfortable in the slightest. But what if he was just good at hiding it?

“Why are you being so nice to me?” The words came out before you could stop yourself.

Rhett leaned back in his seat, grabbing his Stetson before he rose to stand. “Because you look like you could use some kindness. And I don’t believe in mistreatin’ service workers just for the hell of it.”

He dug out his wallet and tossed a $100 bill onto the counter, which more than covered his measly $10 meal charge. Your eyes went wide, and you looked up at him just as he placed his hat on his head. “Keep the change. Buy yourself somethin’ nice.”

Then he was gone, leaving you flabbergasted in the middle of the diner. “Ninety fuckin’ dollars,” you whispered to yourself in amazement, referring to your tip. You snatched the bill off the counter and quickly rang it up, placing the money beneath the cash tray to be put in the safe later, and taking out $90 in cash for yourself. He told you to keep it, so that was what you were going to do.

You thought that night would be the last time you ever saw Rhett Abbott. Thought that he appeared like one of those guardian angels you’d heard people talk about, just to give you a little help along the way, before disappearing into thin air.

But the very next night, he walked through the door of the diner again, and your heart began to race in your chest. He was real. Flesh and blood, standing right in front of you.

He looked just as good as he had the previous night. Except this time, he’d ditched his coffee-stained white shirt in favor of a blue button down, tucked into his jeans with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to show off his strong forearms, that steer tattoo still on display.

He took his hat off and sat at the bar, and he gave you that crooked smile of his. It made your knees weak, and you set down the stack of plates you were carrying just so you didn’t drop them.

The diner had a few customers that night, so you couldn’t focus all of your attention solely on him. Nor could you talk freely, for fear of other patrons overhearing.

But he was still as charming as ever. “Hey,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, “miss me?”

Actually, yes. “I thought you were just passing through,” you said.

He shrugged, resting his elbows on the counter. “Changed my mind.” He held eye contact with you, and it made your heart race.

You shook off your dazed expression and whipped out your order pad. “What’ll you have?”

“How’s your French toast?” He asked. So he was a big fan of breakfast for dinner, it seemed.

You shrugged. “It’s pretty good. I’d recommend the pancakes though, Anton makes the batter from scratch and they’re fluffier than a cloud.”

Rhett’s smile grew wider. “Alright then, I’ll have a stack of ‘em. With a couple of scrambled eggs this time. And black coffee.”

You couldn’t help but smile in return. “Sure thing. And I’ll try not to spill the coffee on you this time.”

That smile turned into a grin. “Thanks, ‘preciate it.”

That was, unfortunately, as far as your interaction went. You handed him his coffee and then got whisked away to serve food to other customers. A family of five walked in, and seeing as how you were the only waitress on the current shift, you had to take care of them.

Rhett noticed this, and his brow furrowed. It was hardly fair that you had to do all of this by yourself. Where were the other waitresses?

When you made your way back to the counter to grab his order and hand it to him, he stopped you with a question. “You’re doin’ all this by yourself? Where’s your help?”

You grimaced. “There’s usually only two of us working at night but the other girl has been sick in the hospital so she’s called off a few nights in a row. My boss won’t hire anyone else either so it’s all on me.”

“The more you tell me bout that son’bitch, the more I don’t like him,” Rhett grumbled.

You shrugged. “Just somethin’ I gotta deal with. You need anything else?”

He wanted to continue the conversation, but he didn’t want to keep you from your work and get you in trouble, so he simply requested some pancake syrup and let you get back to your duties.

That night, as he left the diner, he gave you another large tip, and you cried over it, not understanding why he would do such a thing. In this place, you were lucky to even get a dollar or two as a tip.

After those first two nights, Rhett quickly became a regular. Each night he’d walk through the doors, take a seat at the counter, and order breakfast for dinner. And each night, you’d talk to him, and find yourself growing more and more enamored with him with each passing hour. He continued to leave large tips, and it made you think that he had to be rich. No one could afford to throw money around like that.

But it didn’t feel appropriate to ask him about his money, so you kept your questions to yourself. You fell into a routine of expecting his presence every night, and appreciating those generous tips.

The entire time, however, Rhett was watching you, and he noticed a few things. Of course, there was the way your boss treated you. But he also noticed how some of the customers treated you. They were impatient and short with you, and it only served to make you more frazzled, resulting in a few mistakes on your part.

You would always apologize profusely and come back to the counter holding back tears. It sent the heat of anger blossoming through Rhett’s chest. He couldn’t stand to watch this much longer. And thankfully, he didn’t, because his opportunity to give you a better life came one night when the diner was particularly busy.

A group of younger men, one of which wore a deputy’s uniform, were picking on you. They would make comments each time you tended to their table, and Rhett caught wind of every word. Their behavior filled him with such rage that he took his hand off of his coffee cup, for fear that he would crush it in his own grasp, just from his anger.

He was tempted to step in, but he waited. The next time you walked up to the counter, he caught you. “I can take care of them assholes for ya,” he offered.

“What?” You asked, unsure of what ‘take care of’ meant in this context.

“Teach ‘em how to be respectful. ‘Cause they sure as hell ain’t respectin’ you right now. ‘Specially that fuckin’ cop.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay. They’re just playing around. Don’t pay attention to them,” you brushed it off. But he could tell it was bothering you.

The final straw happened when you walked back over to their table, and one of them stuck out his leg and purposely tripped you. You let out a yelp of surprise and went down. Thankfully, you were only carrying a pitcher of water, but the water went everywhere, including all over your white top.

Quick as a flash, Rhett Abbott stood up. “Enough!” His voice boomed through the diner, and everyone went dead silent, including the boys who’d been picking on you.

The cowboy approached the table, kneeling to reach for your hands. He locked eyes with you and calmly asked, “You okay?”

When you nodded, he pulled you to your feet, and without hesitation, he shrugged out of his denim jacket and put it around your shoulders so no one would be able to see through your wet shirt.

“Go outside,” he said to you.

“But-”

His piercing eyes caught your gaze. “Go. Trust me.”

And you did. Maybe you were foolish for it, listening to this man you’d only known for the better part of a week. But when Rhett told you to trust him, you somehow knew you could. You hugged his jacket to your body and you walked out of the building and into the cool night.

Back inside, Rhett was seething. He stared at the group of men, and without a word, he reached across the table and grabbed the napkin canister, yanking the top off and dumping the stack of napkins into the lap of the deputy. “Clean up the mess,” Rhett gruffed.

The boys snickered. “Not my fault this place has clumsy waitresses,” Luke, the deputy, said.

Rhett growled, and suddenly, he had Luke by the collar. “Clean up the fuckin’ mess!” He barked. Then he slammed the man back down into his seat.

“Hey!” Luke exclaimed, jumping back out of his seat as Rhett marched back to the counter to grab his hat. “You realize you just assaulted an officer of the law?!”

Rhett remained silent as he fished out his wallet and pulled out a single $10 bill, slamming it down on the counter. Then he turned, his eyes dark and stormy.

“I don’t give a shit. Next time, I’ll do a lot worse.” Then he put his hat on his head and sauntered outside.

He found you leaning against the outside wall, and when you saw him, you wiped at your cheeks, trying to hide the tears. He sighed softly, boots crunching against gravel as he neared you.

“Thanks for that,” you whispered.

“Mm,” he hummed in response. You were both quiet for a few moments before he spoke again. “Listen, maybe I’m bein’ too forward, maybe I’m fuckin’ crazy, but what if I said I could take you away from all this?”

You looked at him, your brow furrowed in confusion. He was as serious as could be. “What?”

“I could. I know I don’t look like much, but I got some money. Got a place out west. Lots of land, horses, cattle. Nice house with a swimmin’ pool in the back. But the thing is…it’s real empty. It ain’t fit for a lonely old cowboy. But it could be a home, with you in it.”

Your eyes widened. There was no way this was real. There had to be a catch. Maybe you were dreaming. Yeah, that was it. This was a dream and you’d wake up any minute, curled up on your broken-down old mattress in your tiny, ill-repaired house.

“I’ll let you sleep on it, if ya need. But I’m tellin’ you right now, you deserve better than this town. It’s like fuckin’ quicksand, it’ll suck you in and you’ll never get out. Believe me, I know.”

“Why?” You asked. “Why would you do this for me?”

Rhett shrugged. “Because I can see you need help, and I have the means to give it to ya.”

You stood there, speechless, your eyes wide and watery. “This isn’t real,” you whispered. “You’re just a dream and I’m gonna wake up soon and you’ll be gone.”

“Ain’t no dream, sugar. I’m real and I’m offerin’ you a fresh start. Don’t need to give me an answer right now, you can think about it, but-”

To hell with it. “Yes,” you cut him off.

His brows raised. He hadn’t expected you to say yes so quickly. Before he could speak again, you continued.

“Why the hell not? I’ve got nothing going for me here. I’m gonna die in this Podunk town if I don’t get out right now. So yes, I’ll go with you.”

Rhett tilted his head, caging his bottom lip between his teeth. “Alright then. We can leave tomorrow if y’ want. My place is in Wyoming, it’s gon’ be a long drive.”

You wondered what he was doing so far away from his home state. And in the back of your mind, you knew this was potentially the most foolish decision you’d ever made. What if he was a serial killer who was going to dump your body in some ravine somewhere? But as you looked into the kindness of his deep blue eyes, you knew that those fears were all in vain. This man was not here to harm you. He was here to rescue you.

So you took a headfirst leap of faith and let him.

That very same night, you walked back into that diner, tossed your apron onto your boss’s desk, and told him, “I fuckin’ quit.”

You ignored his overdramatic pleading, tuning him out when he shouted after you. You left it all behind and came back outside where Rhett was waiting, smoking a cigarette. When he saw you, he stamped out the cigarette and pushed off of his truck, which he’d been leaning on.

“Well?” He asked.

“I quit. Maybe I’m stupid for doing this, but I trust you, and I’ll go wherever you wanna take me.”

And that’s how it all started.

He took you back home that night, insisting upon it after you told him you’d been walking to work to avoid the cost of gas and car maintenance.

His truck smelled like him. The faint scent of cherry tobacco, and a cologne that smelled like vetiver and cedar. It was strangely comforting and you found yourself at ease wrapped up in his scent.

When he pulled up outside your shabby little house with its unkempt lawn, you felt a little embarrassed about your living situation. But if he judged you for it, he made no indication.

“Pack what’s most important to ya. I can have a moving company come and pack up the rest and ship it to my place.”

You hesitated before you climbed out of the truck, reality finally hitting you in the face. “Rhett…you should know I’m sort of…in trouble. I owe money. I’ve got overdue bills, and people I borrowed money from. If I skip town I’ll be in big trouble.”

Rhett gazed at you, and the yellowish light cast from a nearby street lamp made his eyes look dark, almost brown. “Don’t worry about all that.”

“But-”

“I said I’d take ya away from all this. I mean it. You come with me, and you won’t have to worry about anythin’ ever again. I can promise you that.”

“I can’t ask you to take care of my problems for me.”

“You aren’t askin’ me to. I want to.”

You stared at him in disbelief. There was no way this was real. But your heart was telling you to trust him. If he said he would take care of things, then he would.

“Okay,” you relented.

“Alright then. I’ll see ya tomorrow mornin’, around 7 if that’s okay with you.”

You nodded. “Yeah, it’s okay. I’ll see you then.”

Then you slipped out of his truck and slammed the door shut behind you. He waited in your driveway to see to it that you got safely into the house before he finally pulled away.

Once you were inside, you pushed the front door shut and leaned back against it, reeling from what had taken place in the last few hours. Had you really just agreed to run off with this man? Were you crazy? Had you gone completely bonkers? Maybe, but strangely enough, you also had a sense of peace. Somehow you knew this was the right decision.

So you set about packing a duffel bag with your necessities, and by the time morning came, you were waiting out on your front step for Rhett to arrive.

He pulled up at 7 o’clock on the dot, and he climbed out of the truck to greet you. “Mornin’.” His kind smile sent a fuzzy warmth rushing through you, as if you’d just sipped a glass of bubbly champagne.

“Morning,” came your response. He graciously took your bag from you and placed it into the bed of his truck. Then he opened the passenger door for you, and you climbed into the confines of the vehicle.

“Y’ hungry?” He asked after he’d settled into his side.

As if on cue, your stomach rumbled, and you gave him a sheepish look. “I haven’t eaten yet.”

“I’ll fix that.” He pulled out of your driveway and headed into town, there he stopped at Royal Donut, the local donut shop. He took you inside and let you choose whatever donuts you wanted. You walked out of that shop with a dozen assorted favorites, cups of coffee, and some other bakery items.

It was more than you could ever eat, but Rhett spared no expense. And as he drove, you happily ate your fill of donuts, a treat that you never bought yourself. He seemed pleased that you were enjoying the sweet treats.

And thus began your trip to Wyoming with a mysterious, silver-haired cowboy.

The further away you got from that shitty town, the more at ease you felt. You relaxed into the leather seat of Rhett’s Silverado, and you let yourself forget about your problems for just a little while.

You found Rhett incredibly easy to talk to. He had this way about him that made you want to talk to him. You wanted to know more about this man who’d walked into your life and whisked you away. This was the kind of thing that only happened in movies and storybooks. It didn’t happen to small-town girls who led flat, broke-down lives.

And yet, there he was, driving with one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting atop the gearshift, looking like a dream with his hair haphazardly brushed back with his fingers, wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans, with an ornate belt fastened around his waist.

There was a pair of black cowboy boots on his feet. You never thought you’d find such a thing attractive, but you did. He was every bit a cowboy as you could have imagined. Open pack of Marlboros in the cup holder. Pistol in the glove compartment. Dreamcatcher hanging from the rearview mirror.

He told you the dreamcatcher was given to him by an old friend named Joy Hawk. “She passed a few years ago. Every time I look at it I think of her.”

You admired the colorful beads, watching as the feathers fluttered from the air conditioning. Someday, you would find that same dreamcatcher beside your bed, because Rhett noticed you admiring it so much that he decided you should have it. But until then, it would remain dangling upon his rearview.

During that lengthy road trip, you talked about anything and everything. You revealed some details about your life and explained why you had a negative reputation, of sorts, within your town.

“You mean that fuckin’ asshole that tripped you spread rumors that you were tradin’ sex for money?” He clarified, his hand tightening on the steering wheel.

“I-I think so. That’s the only reason I can think the rumor even got started. His pride was hurt when i said I wouldn’t sleep with him.”

Rhett ran his tongue over his teeth, breathing in deeply. “I shoulda beat his ass like I wanted to. Fucker deserves it.”

You shook your head. “What you did last night was more than enough. Besides, I wouldn’t want you to get arrested on account of you defending me. I’d feel so bad,” you said.

“I wouldn’t’ve gotten arrested. And even if I did, they’d let me go after I made a phone call.”

You looked at him curiously. “Why? You famous or something?”

“Not really. Won a couple bull ridin’ circuits. Own a cattle ranch. I just have good connections. And a good lawyer.”

Something about his answer made you think he was being modest. With the way he threw money around so freely, and the way he was dressed, you knew he was more wealthy and powerful than he was letting on. But you chose not to question it further. If he wanted you to know more, he’d tell you.

Instead of talking about his status, he changed the subject. He talked about his family, and how rocky his relationship was with them.

“It all fell apart when I was in my early 30s. Found out my wife was cheatin’ on me with my brother.”

Your jaw dropped at his revelation. “Oh my gosh. With your own brother?! That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged. “I got over it. But it took me a while. I spiraled pretty hard after it. Did some shit I ain’t proud of, all because I was angry. But that was a long time ago. I’m in a better place now.”

“You never remarried?”

“Nah. Just never found anyone I wanted to settle down with. Maria, my ex-wife, tried to rekindle things but I never could look her in the eye again after what she did. So I just put all my focus into buildin’ a life for myself. Rode in a few rodeos. Built a house. Been runnin’ a cattle business for the last decade. Haven’t had time for anyone special.”

“Except for me,” you quietly murmured.

He smirked, nodding in agreement. “Except for you, little darlin’.” Then he paused. “‘s alright if I call ya that?”

“Yeah. I like the sound of it.”

From that moment on, you became Rhett Abbott’s little darlin’, and everything changed. You wondered what made you special. What made him decide, fifteen years after his marriage went down the drain, to open his arms to someone else?

You’d never understand, but you didn’t have to. Rhett had pulled you from the miry pit you’d been sinking into, and you would be forever grateful to him for it. You didn’t know it yet, but he would soon lavish you with everything you could ever want or need. He would provide for you beyond your wildest dreams, and you would wake up every day and thank your lucky stars that he had walked into that shitty hole-in-the-wall diner and swept you off your feet.

Now you were on your way out west to his big ranch to start a new life. You had no idea how he was going to work out all the details. There were still so many loose ends you had to tie up in your personal life. To anyone else, this decision probably seemed like the most foolish decision you could’ve possibly made. But to you, it felt like fate, so you decided to take it as such.

Instead of worrying about those things, you allowed yourself to be in the moment, getting to know Rhett during all those hours in the truck together. He got you whatever you wanted to eat along the way. Fries, milkshakes, your favorite treats. You felt a little bad that he was spending money on you, but at the same time, it felt nice to be spoiled, so you allowed yourself to bask in it.

The trip took twelve hours in total, and toward the end, you fell asleep with your head resting against the window. A few hours later, you woke with a start when you felt the truck pulling to a stop.

“Shh, you’re alright,” Rhett’s low cadence filled your ears. “Just pullin’ into the drive.”

Suddenly, you were very much awake as you realized what you were looking at. You’d finally arrived, and although it was dark, you could see that the property was large. And the house you were approaching was bigger than you could’ve imagined.

Your eyes went wide. So he was rich, rich.

You were essentially speechless as you climbed out of the truck and followed Rhett to the front door. There was a motion light that had turned on as soon as he pulled the truck to a stop, illuminating the front of the large house. It was designed to look like a rustic cabin, but much bigger. Wood beams framed the expansive porch. Even the front door was wooden. A few rocking chairs decorated the porch. Green fern plants hung from the ceiling, creating a whimsical feel.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting his home to look like, but this exceeded your wildest expectations. You drank everything in as he took you inside, standing there dumbly in the entryway as he reached over and flipped several light switches on one switchplate, illuminating the front of the home.

An entry area with a plush rug stretched out before you. It opened up into the main living room, which was furnished with two leather couches, some comfortable-looking overstuffed chairs, a bearskin rug, a custom coffee table, and so many more odds and ends that made it feel like a home.

“Whoa,” you whispered to yourself in amazement. Your own home looked like a tattered shoebox compared to this. “How is this real?”

Rhett smiled at your wonder. “It’s real. Built it myself.”

Your eyes went wide as saucers. “You built this?!”

“Not by myself, I had a lotta help, but yeah. C’mon, let me show you where you’re gon’ be stayin’. I’ll give ya a tour tomorrow, I’m sure you’re wiped out and want some sleep.”

You were in fact wide awake, but you let him lead you up to your room anyway. You followed up up the wide, wooden staircase and up to an open hallway, complete with wooden banisters. It overlooked the main floor of the house and gave you an idea of just how big the place really was.

On your way down the hallway, you passed a few different rooms, and you noticed that one had a nameplate on it with the name Amy etched into it. You wondered if it was too forward to ask him about it, but the words were out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

“Who’s Amy?” You asked as you trailed after the man.

He glanced back at you. “Amy’s my niece. She don’t stay here much anymore, she’s grown, and she’s off backpackin’ through the Appalachian Trail with her wife, last I heard. I just kept her room the way it was in case she ever needs to stay with me.”

You nodded in understanding, and you wondered if she was the daughter of the brother that Rhett’s wife had cheated on him with, but you didn’t ask any more questions. You already felt like you were imposing enough as it was, and you felt it was rude to interrogate this man who’d just invited you into his home out of the goodness of his heart.

You didn’t have time to continue your questions anyway, because Rhett stopped at the end of the hall and opened the door to another bedroom, motioning for you to step inside. The first thing you noticed was its coziness, with a large, plush rug covering most of the floor. The bed was queen-sized, set inside a bedframe made of logs.

There were rich oak nightstands on either side of the bed with ornate wrought iron lamps. There was even a flatscreen television mounted to the wall across from the bed. But best of all, there was a large, stone-hewn fireplace along the far wall. You were blown away. It was the nicest bedroom you’d ever seen. And the bed looked so inviting. Maybe you would finally get a good night’s sleep and wake up without any lower back pain, as you were prone to.

“Rhett, I…” you started, but you couldn’t form the words.

He smiled as he walked over to place your bag atop the bed. “Don’t mention it, little darlin’. For now, I want ya to get some sleep. Bathroom’s right over there,” he motioned toward a door on the other side of the room. “Should be toiletries and whatnot in there. My housekeeper Kira usually keeps everythin’ stocked.”

Your brows shot up. He had a housekeeper? It only made sense, seeing as how the place was so big and he was only one person. Even so, it was a lot to process. How on earth had you gotten so lucky to meet this guy? It still felt like a sick joke that God was playing on you. But you’d enjoy the joke for as long as you could.

However, there was no joke. No one was pulling a fast one on you. Rhett Abbott was a sincere man who truly wanted to help you, a poor waitress down on your luck. And help you, he did. After you got settled in that night, he set about doing exactly as he told you he would; taking care of things.

Over the next few weeks, he began the process of having all of your things moved to his place. He worked behind the scenes to cover all of your financial expenses. He paid any outstanding balances and bills you had, down to the very last dime.

In just a short amount of time, your entire life changed. You went from barely keeping your head above water, to floating atop the same water on a pool float with a mimosa in hand. Rhett became your protector, your provider, the best thing to ever happen to you.

Gone were the days of worrying if you’d have enough money to buy groceries or pay your electric bill. As the months went by, Rhett provided everything you could ever need or want. Clothes, jewelry, shoes, food, hygiene products. He spared no expense and he was more than happy to lavish you with those things.

He’d well and truly become your savior, and you would be forever grateful to him for giving you a chance when no one else would.

As time passed, and you fell into an easy routine of life with the gray-haired cowboy, you found yourself falling in love with him. Being in his presence felt so safe and warm, and you became drunk off of that feeling. You couldn’t help but fall head over heels, and he was there to catch you when you did, confessing that he, too, loved you.

It felt natural. It felt right. And Rhett hadn’t allowed himself to love anyone in this way since his marriage had fallen apart. Even then, he never truly knew what love was. He’d only married Maria because he was afraid of being alone. A lot of good it had done him, because he’d ended up alone anyway.

But all of those events in his life had led him here, to you, and he realized then that it was all worth it. The pain, the suffering, the hardships he’d endured were simply molding him into the man you needed him to be. Taking care of you gave him purpose.

He pledged himself to you, promising that he would take care of you for as long as he lived, and even after, he would see to it that you didn’t have to worry about a thing. You would be financially set for the rest of your life. It was a concept that was so foreign to you that it was difficult to wrap your mind around.

Money would never be a concern for you ever again.

But for you, it wasn’t about the money. Of course, the financial stability was wonderful, but you came to the conclusion that you would be happy with Rhett no matter your situation. Rich, poor, anything in between. You were content with all of it as long as he was by your side. Not only was he your savior, but he was also the love of your life.

He had so much to teach you, from all the years of life he’d lived. He’d seen so much in his forty-five years, he had many stories to tell, and you eagerly listened to all of them. As time went on, he opened up more and more.

You were curious as to how he made so much money. He didn’t tell you all the details, but the gist was that he raised and sold cattle, and it had become a wildly successful means of living for him. Before his livestock business, he was a bull rider. You’d seen the medals and trophies in his office. He was modest about his riding career, but his awards boasted of national fame in the rodeo circuit. He was one of the best there was.

He explained that he’d had to give up riding when he was still young. “Most guys get ten or so years in the circuit. I got seven. Fucked up m’ shoulder and wrist one too many times. Got to the point where I couldn’t hold onto the ropes anymore. My last ride damn near killed me, I thought I could handle it but I lost m’ grip and went down. Landed me in the hospital for a month.”

He showed you the various scars and injuries he’d suffered during his riding career. His shoulder was littered with aged scars, which were from extensive surgeries he’d undergone just to be able to use it still.

After that, you spent many a night massaging lotion into that shoulder, just to give him some temporary relief of the pain he still suffered. He was grateful for your gentle touch, and he found himself marveling at how he got so lucky to find someone like you.

But life wasn’t all rhinestone cowboys and star-spangled rodeos. While he made an honest living with his job, he had his fair share of issues when it came to his wealth. After his divorce, he’d spiraled out of control and gotten himself in trouble with some powerful people.

Those days were behind him, and he’d since paid his dues, but he still had those enemies who would jump at the chance to see his success go down the drain. Particularly the neighboring Tillerson ranch.

The Abbotts had a long history with the Tillersons. And that history had carried on through each generation. Rhett’s father, Royal, had been dead for the better part of a decade, and the Tillerson patriarch, Wayne, had been dead for even longer. But his sons were still alive and kickin’. And they’d do anything to knock Rhett down a few pegs and gain the upper hand in the business realm.

Rhett had fought tooth and nail to get where he was today. He was the son of an impoverished cowboy, he had extremely humble beginnings and was always told he wouldn’t amount to much. But he’d proved everyone wrong just by succeeding. Because of all the blood, sweat, and tears he’d put into his livelihood, he was especially protective of it, and never allowed anyone to threaten what was his.

You knew Rhett was protective. You had seen it early on when you first met him, when he defended you against those boys in the diner. But you saw it again one day when you faced his competitors one night at a rancher’s event.

He told you that you didn’t have to go. “Don’t want ya to feel obligated, little darlin’.”

“I want to go, so I can support you,” you insisted. “Besides, I couldn’t pass up seeing my man dressed up all fancy.”

He smiled shyly. “If you’re sure, then okay.”

“I’m sure. Plus, it’s high time I let everyone know you’re off the market, right?”

Despite your upbeat attitude, part of you was nervous. Rhett had told you how some of these people behaved, and how judgmental they could be. You were afraid of what they might say when they noticed how much younger you were than Rhett.

But your relationship wasn’t something you wanted to hide. To hell with what others thought, or at least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself of. You wanted to walk in on Rhett’s arm and have him show you off.

And that was exactly what you did. Rhett bought you a new dress, a deep blue to match the shirt he wore. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. He wore his nicest pair of jeans, the blue shirt with a bolo tie around the collar, his most expensive belt, decorated with his favorite buckle that was polished to perfection. His silver hair was neatly combed back, and he wore a jet-black hat atop his head.

He’d never looked more beautiful, and you couldn’t believe you were lucky enough to be called his. You walked into the event that night with your arm looped through his, butterflies of nervousness fluttering in your belly.

“You’re gon’ do just fine,” he quietly assured you. You smiled and squeezed his bicep in thanks.

And you were just fine. Until it came time to meet people. You were content to keep to yourself, safely tucked into Rhett’s side. But everyone noticed you, because it was a rarity for him to come to an event with a plus one.

It was Luke Tillerson’s wife, Camilla, that took it upon herself to find out who you were. “Who’s your little friend, Rhett?” She spoke up.

Little friend? You didn’t like her tone. But Rhett didn’t let it affect him. He tightened his arm around your waist and replied. “This here’s my girlfriend,” he introduced you.

The woman made a face, eyeing you up and down. You immediately felt scrutinized. “Oh, how…cute.”

“She is, ain’t she?” He said, gazing down at you lovingly, purposely ignoring her implication. But he could tell you were bothered, he could see it in your eyes. You stepped closer to him, pressing yourself against his side.

You’d never felt so out of place in your life. These people were all filthy rich. They’d been born into wealth. Surely they would see you as Rhett’s charity case if they knew your background.

“Abbott!” A male voice suddenly interrupted the conversation. An older man dressed in an expensive suit and sporting a stereotypical handlebar mustache approached Rhett, and before you or Rhett could protest, he whisked him away, claiming he had someone for him to meet.

This left you entirely alone with Camilla. Your palms grew sweaty and your muscles tensed. You were afraid she was going to start prying into your business. And sure enough, she did.

“You’re awfully young,” the woman remarked, idly sipping the expensive cocktail she held between her manicured fingers.

“And what about it?” You asked, immediately defensive. You’d been afraid this would happen.

“Oh, don’t take it personally, hon. I just didn’t think Rhett would stoop to such a level. I mean, what are you, mid-20s? He must have been incredibly desperate.”

You bristled, your skin growing hot beneath your dress. “I really don’t appreciate that,” you gritted out. “He isn’t desperate. It’s not like that.”

Camilla laughed it off. “Oh, you sweet child. You don’t get it, do you? He’s having a midlife crisis. You’re only a phase. Once he gets sick of you? He’ll drop you like a bad habit. He’s only interested in one thing, and it’s not your brains or pretty face.”

You wanted to throw angry, biting words right back at her, but you were speechless. You couldn’t believe the audacity of this woman to speak so boldly to someone she’d never even met. You could feel tears welling in your eyes, and although you willed them to go away, they wouldn’t.

“H-he’s not like that,” you whispered, repeating yourself. You had been with him for nearly a year. Not once did he ever display the tendencies she was describing.

“Honey, I’m just trying to warn you so you don’t get hurt when he gets bored. Go find a man your own age before it’s too late.”

Those tears welling in your eyes began to make their way down your cheeks before you could stop them. You couldn’t fathom how someone could be so cruel. Camilla said something else to you, but you didn’t hear her. You were too overwhelmed, too hurt. Your immediate instinct was to find Rhett. With your breath coming out in short, shallow gasps as you tried to hold in your tears, you turned, your blurry eyes scanning the room for him.

But Rhett had already seen you, and he was making a beeline for you. As soon as he appeared in your line of sight, you knew he was going to come to your aid. He’d been watching you warily from the corner of his eye as he talked to a potential new business partner, because he knew how Camilla Tillerson was. She’d never grown out of her high school mean-girl phase, and she thought just because she was Mrs. Luke Tillerson she could behave whichever way she wanted.

When he saw your shoulders tense, he knew something was wrong, and he excused himself to come to you. And then you turned, and there were tears in your eyes. It set off alarm bells in his head, and his chest tightened as anger welled up inside him.

As soon as he reached you, he was pulling you close, and you let yourself melt into the safety of his arms. Rhett had it handled, you didn’t have to worry anymore. “The fuck did you say to her, huh?!” He demanded.

Camilla’s eyes widened. “Nothing! I was just trying to give her some friendly advice, woman to woman.”

Rhett glared at her. “Like hell you were. You really gon’ stand there and insult my gal? And ain’t it convenient that you waited ‘til I walked away to do it?”

“Hey, there a problem here?” Another voice chimed in. This time, it was Luke’s.

Rhett sighed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, your wife. Tell her to keep her big mouth shut.”

He ignored Luke’s dramatic reaction, opting to instead end the argument and tend to you. He tucked you under his arm and he led you out of the room. You didn’t see it, but he made sure to hold his hand out behind him as he went, his middle finger in the air to get the message to Luke and his wife across.

Once he had you outside, he led you to the truck, where he stopped to let you pull yourself together. You wiped at your wet cheeks, and he kindly gave you the handkerchief he always kept in his pocket to help.

“How can someone be so mean?” You whimpered softly.

Rhett fought the urge to go back inside and start yelling. It wouldn’t help anything, and it would only get him banned from the event altogether for acting like a fool. Instead, he focused on you. “What’d she say to you, baby?”

You sniffled, staring down at the handkerchief as you gingerly folded the fabric over itself. You relayed the words Camilla had spoken to you, and you watched as Rhett’s jaw tightened, his chest heaving slightly.

“That fuckin’ bitch,” he gritted out. Then he grimaced apologetically. “‘scuse the term, I don’t like to call ladies names but that one deserves it. I can’t believe she’d do that to ya.”

“It’s what I get for thinking I could measure up to all this. I’m nothing compared to all those people in there. They’re filthy rich and I’m just fuckin’ trailer park trash!”

In an instant, Rhett had your face in his hand. “Don’t you dare start talkin’ like that about yourself. I ain’t gon’ stand for it. You got just as much a right to be there as anyone else.”

“Do I? Or am I just your arm candy?” As soon as you said the words, you regretted them.

“You know that’s not true,” he lowly said. “You’re not a fuckin’ object, alright? You’re a brilliant human being and I’m sorry the others can’t see that.”

You wanted to say more, but you were too emotional. “Can we please just go home?”

Rhett sighed softly, but relented. “We’ll talk more about it later.” And then he opened the passenger door of the truck and allowed you to climb in.

Camilla’s words and attitude had really gotten to you. You knew what she said about Rhett wasn’t true, but there was still that nagging voice of insecurity that made you think it was true.

What if he did eventually get bored of you? What if he didn’t even love you and he truly was only interested in you for what you brought to the table sexually? Those were all lies, and you knew that. But the longer you let them fester, the more tortured you felt.

When you arrived home that night, you went right up to the bedroom without saying a word to Rhett. He stood at the foot of the steps and watched you go up, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he sighed tiredly and sauntered over to his extravagant liquor cabinet.

He poured himself a glass of whiskey, downing it in one go before he poured another, and then made his way upstairs to where you were already getting ready for bed. He decided to give you a few moments of silence before he tried talking to you again. You obviously needed a little time.

Instead, he busied himself with getting ready for bed himself, shedding his clothes and slipping into a fresh pair of underwear to sleep in. Then he finished off his whiskey before he headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

A few minutes later, you joined him in bed, slipping beneath the plush covers. He didn’t waste another moment as he quickly set his book aside. “We need to talk this out.”

You sighed. “I know.”

“Do you? Because I don’t think y’ do.”

You looked at him with a furrowed brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Listen, I ain’t the best with words, but…I don’t think you know just how much you mean to me. I don’t give a shit what Camilla Tillerson says. She’s wrong, you hear me? You’re not just some phase that I’m gon’ get bored of. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. You make me a better man and I’m forever grateful, you hear me? So fuck what all them prissy, starch-collared cowboys think. Because I know the truth. And the truth is that you’re the love of my life. Nothing’s gon’ change that.”

At his earnest confession, your eyes welled with tears again. “Oh, Rhett,” you whispered. You moved closer, wrapping your arms around him.

“I love you, you hear me, girl? I’ll love you ‘til the day I die.”

And somehow, you knew he would.

His confession eased your fears, but there was still that little insecure voice within you. However, somewhere along the way, you determined in your heart that you were done caring about what people thought.

You loved Rhett, and he loved you. You weren’t going to hide that. So you continued attending events with him, walking in with your head held high, proud to be standing by your man’s side. You didn’t let anyone talk poorly about him, or yourself. You stayed far away from Camilla Tillerson, and you refused to listen to comments that she or her family made toward you. What they thought didn’t matter.

Rhett proved his love to you over and over again. He showed you that what you shared was real and true. That you were the only one for him. And it wasn’t long before he pledged that love to you with a ring.

You were married in the woods. You wore a whimsical dress with a crown of flowers in your hair. You even got Rhett to wear flowers in his hair. You said your vows under an old weeping willow, with the local pastor officiating. Rhett’s niece Amy and her wife flew in to witness the marriage, and his mother Cecelia, who was well up in years, but still just as lucid and fiery as she’d ever been, came too.

It was a quiet, intimate ceremony. And after it was all said and done, Rhett treated you to a honeymoon in the mountains, in a little log cabin built for two. It was blissful and dreamy and everything you ever could’ve hoped your honeymoon to be.

He treated you like a queen, and you knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was it for you. There was no one else you could imagine spending your life with. He’d found you at rock bottom and offered you a steady hand to hold, slowly pulling you to your feet and building you up until your old life was but a bad memory.

With Rhett, you wanted for nothing. You were loved, provided for, protected. He was the greatest gift you’d ever been bestowed, and you cherished him every waking moment.

Now, whenever there were business events to attend, you walked proudly by his side, displaying the beautiful ring he’d placed upon your finger, letting everyone know that you were the one that had made Rhett Abbott believe in romance again after all these years of wallowing in his own loneliness.

Your life together was sweet, and it went down easy like a spoonful of honey. Gone were the rough days and the fear of wondering if you’d end up living on the streets. Now, you woke up every morning to the sun streaming through your windows and your husband’s strong arm slung across your waist, and you silently whispered a prayer of thanks to the universe for it.

That was exactly the kind of morning you’d just woken up to. It was early, especially to be awake on a Sunday morning, but you were alert as could be. Beside you, Rhett was still sleeping peacefully, the sheets slung loosely over his naked hip, his silver hair mussed against the pillow.

Sundays were his day of rest. He wasn’t above doing hard labor, and could often be found working out in the fields with his ranch hands. But Sundays were reserved for rest and spending time with you. Usually, you would gently wake him, but because it was early, you decided to let him rest a little longer. He deserved it after a long and arduous week.

Instead, you slipped out of bed and went to get into your swimsuit so you could jump into the in ground pool in the back. Although the sun had barely been up that long, it was already quite hot outside, and you were eager to take a dip in the cool water to start your day.

You donned a white bikini. It was simple, but it was Rhett’s favorite. Particularly because the straps wear easy to untie and gave him easy access to the body that he loved so much. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, because you knew he would be delighted to wake up to the sight of you in your skimpy bathing suit clinging to your wet skin.

As you sneaked back through the bedroom, he was still sound asleep, and you left him be. You padded through the house with your feet bare, the air conditioning cool against your exposed skin as you went, raising goosebumps in its wake.

But the second you stepped outside, you warmed right up. You stopped to grab a beach towel and a bottle of SPF in the outdoor cabinet near the door, and then you took a moment to put on the cream, allowing it to soak in for a bit before you stepped toward the pool and dipped your foot in, shivering at the coolness.

Sucking in a breath, you finally went for it, quickly lowering yourself off of the concrete edge and plunging straight into the water. You squeaked at the cold shock, but moments later, your body grew used to the temperature, and you relaxed, closing your eyes for a moment before you swam to the other edge of the pool to grab a large innertube to float around on.

You couldn’t believe that this was your reality. A giant in-ground pool in the middle of a glorious ranch in Wyoming. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined you’d be in this position, but here you were, all thanks to your million dollar man.

“Thought I’d find y’ out here.” Speak of the devil.

You smiled, lifting your head to take in the sight of your husband. He was dressed only in the white underwear he’d worn to bed, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander brazenly, drifting toward his crotch.

“Mornin’, Daddy,” you sighed.

He raised a brow as he stopped at the edge of the pool. You eagerly swam toward him, and he leaned down to kiss you. “Mornin’, little darlin’. Sleep okay?”

“Like a baby.”

He smiled, kissing you again before he turned, opting to take a seat on one of the soft lounge chairs. You watched as he reached into the side table that stood beside the chair, pulling out his pipe set. You couldn’t help but bite your lips as you watched him ready the old pipe. It had been given to him by his grandfather, and he only used it once in a while. It was intricate, hand carved and passed down through the generations.

He noticed you eyeing him, and he smirked. “What? I’m feelin’ fancy this mornin’, sue me.”

You shook your head. “Oh, no, keep going. You know how sexy I think you look with a pipe.”

He rolled his eyes as he pressed a scoop of cherry tobacco down into the pipe. “Yeah. Sexy like a fuckin’ grandfather.”

“Exactly.”

He snorted in laughter. “Oh I’m sorry, I forgot who I was dealin’ with. My wife loves old men.”

You giggled in response. “Hey, I only have eyes for one old man, and that’s you.”

You shared a good-natured, knowing look with him before you spontaneously turned and dipped back into the water. Rhett leaned back against the lounge chair, taking a puff from the pipe and letting the smoke curl into the air. He watched you through hooded eyes, admiring the way your body moved in the water. He noticed that you were wearing his favorite bikini of yours, and he couldn’t help but groan low in his chest.

You swam about for a few more laps, all under Rhett’s watchful eye, before you finally decided to get out of the water. You felt his gaze on your body as you emerged from the pool dripping wet, bathing suit clinging to your skin. Your nipples were prominent beneath the fabric against your breasts, and Rhett could see it clearly.

You grabbed the towel you’d set out early, using it to dry your body, right in front of your husband. You turned to catch his cool blue gaze, and the way he was looking at you made you weak in the knees. He stared right at you as he brought his pipe back to his lips, and this time, when he released the smoke, he created smoke rings that floated up into the air.

God, did he really have to make everything so sexy?

“What’s’a matter, honey?” He teased, a twinkle in his eye.

“Nothin’!” You peeped, shaking your head as you finished trying off.

He smirked again, and you wanted to wipe it off his face. Then he leaned back, spreading his legs. You had full view of his cock, and those heavy balls of his, barely hidden by the fabric of his underwear. You swore you began salivating, and he wasn’t even hard yet.

“Come sit on daddy’s lap, little darlin’.”

Oh, so that’s how he wanted to play. Without a word of protest, you tossed your towel aside and climbed into his lap. He set his pipe in its cradle so both of his hands could rest on your hips. “Look so pretty, glimmerin’ like a fuckin’ diamond,” he mused, admiring your damp, shimmering skin.

You leaned in, searching out his lips, and he obliged you, kissing you languidly. In the process, you lifted your hand, discreetly tugging at one of the ties on your bikini top. When you parted, the top conveniently fell, revealing your breast.

“Oh, oopsie!” You exclaimed.

Rhett rolled his eyes. “Yeah, oopsie.” But he brought his hand up to untie the other side, and then the back. With ease, he plucked the fabric from your body and tossed it aside, revealing your chest. “Much better.” Then he surged forward, opening his mouth to swirl his hot, wet tongue around a nipple.

You gasped lowly when he closed his lips around the little bud, suckling softly. “Know I can’t resist these fuckin’ gorgeous titties,” he growled, teeth nipping at you.

“I know,” you gasped, “‘s why I wore this set.”

He grinned at you as he made quick work of untying the bottoms. “I figured. Dirty little slut, know exactly how to get daddy goin’, don’t ya?”

He went back to mouthing at your breast, his other hand coming up to knead at the one he wasn’t laving his tongue all over. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, bringing yourself closer to him as you relished in the feeling of his teeth gently scraping against your nipples. It sent shockwaves of pleasure crackling along your spine, and you could feel yourself growing wetter by the minute.

Rhett was obsessed with your tits. He always wanted his hands or his mouth all over them, and you were more than happy to oblige.

“Can’t get enough of ya,” he murmured, his large, warm hands squeezing your ass. “Mind if I fuck t’ out here, baby? Or would you rather go inside where it’s cooler?” He was always so considerate of your comfort.

“Out here,” you gasped as you pulled his mouth to yours, your fingers threading through that silvery hair. “Don’t wanna wait.”

He hummed in amusement. “Impatient lil thang,” he drawled.

“Can’t help it,” you sighed as you positioned yourself so your pussy was against his slowly hardening cock. “Need my daddy right now.”

He growled low in his chest. “Yeah? Poor baby, daddy’ll give you what you need.”

You whined in response, letting your head rest on his shoulder as you began to rock your hips back and forth. His big arms came up to wrap around your torso, and you basked in the feeling, eyes drifting shut. You felt so safe, surrounded by him. The sweet scent of cherry tobacco was comforting, paired with the scent of his shampoo, and the natural, intoxicating musk that could only be described as Rhett.

You could get drunk off of his scent alone.

When he realized you were inhaling him, he hummed knowingly. You were like a little puppy, the way you always sniffed at him. He found it endearing.

But then he felt your cunt soaking through the fabric of his underwear, right against his cock, and he forgot all about that cute little quirk of yours, his brain short-circuiting.

Above him, you could feel him growing harder and harder against you. It was your favorite feeling, because when he was hard, he grew so big. You’d never forget the first time you saw his hard cock. You had meekly questioned how it was going to fit inside you.

Now you took it like a champ, but that didn’t mean you didn’t still like to talk it up and tell him how big he was. You knew how much it got him going.

You looked down, and whimpered pathetically when you saw him growing between your legs. Almost frantically, you began rutting your hips more quickly, building friction.

“Hey now,” Rhett drawled, “slow down there, baby. We got all mornin’, ain’t no rush.”

He tipped your chin up to kiss you again, and you shivered in his arms. “I know. But I wan’ you now. Need to be full, need your fat fucking cock inside me.”

Rhett’s eyes widened at your brazen language. He wasn’t shocked by it, he just wasn’t used to you being so bold right off the bat. Usually, it took getting you a little worked up for the filthy talk to start, but he was already getting your unfiltered desires and you’d barely even begun.

Before he could reply, you were scrambling to get his underwear down his legs. Moving quickly, he aided you, yanking them down the rest of the way and kicking them aside.

Without warning, your hand was on him, stroking him to full hardness as he grunted in surprise. You leaned forward and let a trail of spit fall from your pursed mouth, right onto the shiny, pink tip.

You used it as lubricant to stroke him further, but within seconds, he was gently pulling your hand away. He then reached between your thighs and slid his middle and ring fingers inside you, pulling a sharp gasp from your throat. “Gotta get you ready,” he murmured, and suddenly he was fucking his fingers into you hard and fast as you squealed and fell forward against him, the obscene wet sound reaching your ears.

You weakly grasped at his arm, unable to speak, but you knew if he kept going you’d end up squirting all over him. “Da-d-daddy!” You managed to squeak.

And then, all at once, he stopped. He pulled his fingers from you and used your slick to further lube up his cock. You watched, salivating as the tip began to glisten with precum. Eagerly, you reached down, swiping your finger over the slit and smearing it around.

Rhett gasped, shivering at the sensitivity.

“So pretty, Daddy,” you mused, admiring the glimmering hardness beneath you.

“S’all for you, little darlin’,” he rasped. Then he grabbed your hips, arranging you properly before he aligned himself with you. “Let’s see if this needy pussy is ready f’ me.”

He ran the plush tip over your aching clit, and you trilled softly, closing your eyes in anticipation. Then, finally, you felt him as your entrance. Slowly, oh so slowly, he began to push into you. Little by little, your anatomy stretched to accommodate him. You could feel every vein, every twitch, and it already had your eyes rolling back in your head.

“‘ere you go,” he praised, his eyes fixed on the place where your bodies met. “Just a little further. C’mon honey, I know you can do it.”

At his encouragement, you sank down all the way, until you felt his balls pressing against you and you’d taken him down to the hilt. Then you glanced down and smiled proudly. “I did it, Daddy. I took the whole thing!”

Rhett beamed. “Atta girl. Takin’ it like you were made to.” His hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb stroking the skin. “You wan’ do it by yourself or do ya need Daddy’s help?”

Your brow furrowed as you considered the ultimatum. “I wanna try to do it by myself first.”

He nodded, leaving a kiss to your knows. “Alright then, go ahead. Take what y’ need.”

You placed your hands on his big, broad shoulders and began to slowly move atop him, using your thighs to lift yourself off before sinking back down. Rhett’s own hands found purchase on your thighs, lovingly squeezing at the flesh, enjoying the feeling of you building your own rhythm.

As you did so, he dipped his head forward again, mouthing at your breasts, tongue swirling around each nipple. You let out a soft moan at the feeling, taking in every sensation you felt.

The stretch of his cock inside you, the shock of his teeth nipping at your sensitive flesh, the feeling of his hands, calloused from years of work, resting on your thighs. His presence was so big and manly, surrounding you entirely. You felt so safe, like nothing in the world could harm you.

“Love you, Daddy,” you breathed as you began moving faster, focusing on the task at hand. Up, down, swivel your hips against his. A steady rhythm that you stayed with, periodically tightening around him as you did so.

“Love you too, baby.”

Rhett watched you above him, his eyes shining like the stars. You were so beautiful like this, slipping into the throes of pleasure. He wished he could have this moment etched in gold and display it on the walls of his home.

Your soft whimpers filled his head, swirling around like the smoke from his pipe. The sweetest music to his ears. He ran his hands along your body, as if committing the feel of your soft skin to memory.

“So pretty like this, ain’t ya? Usin’ Daddy for your own pleasure.”

At that, you moaned, opening your eyes to gaze into his own. “Feels so good.”

“I know. I can feel you gettin’ wetter.”

And he could. Your arousal had begun to drip down against his balls, and you were so slick that you had to focus on being careful so you didn’t accidentally take him too deep and hurt yourself.

But soon, your thighs began to burn, and you grew fatigued from doing all the work. You’d bitten off more than you could chew. You needed help.

“C-can you take over, please?” You asked.

“Already?” He cooed. “I thought for sure you’d last longer. You’re just a pathetic little thing, ain’t ya? Need Daddy’s help with everything.”

“Yes sir,” you agreed, nodding your head and gazing at him with doe eyes.

“Don’t worry. I gotcha.” His hands tightened around your hips, and suddenly, he was moving you up and down on his cock with his sheer strength. You gasped loudly, immediately falling forward against his strong chest as he did so.

You felt every inch stretching you, splitting you open. Your mouth parted to let out your unabashed moans and whines, already so blissed out that you were drooling against his chest.

He began shifting his hips up to meet yours each time he brought you down, jarring you as he fucked you fast and deep, fingertips digging into the flesh of your ass.

But he didn’t let you get too used to that position, because it wasn’t long before he was suddenly pulling you off of him. You squeaked in protest, looking at him in confusion.

“Want you on y’re hands and knees,” he gruffed. He slipped out from under you, and you watched his hard cock bob as he got up, glistening in the morning light.

He had to arrange you how he saw fit, because you were too preoccupied staring at his dick. Then he was behind you, clutching your hip with one hand while the other aligned himself with your cunt.

In one swift but careful thrust, he was back inside you, and you all but howled against the lounge chair. He lifted his hand to swat your ass, leaving a brief sting that was soothed by his gentle palm.

Then that same hand rested on the small of your back as he pushed you all the way forward so your face was against the cushion. Then he began to roll his hips forward, and you whined at the feeling. This angle was so much more intense, and he felt even bigger somehow.

“S’big, Daddy!”

“I know. Poor little pussy’s just stretchin’ so wide to take me. I don’t know, think I should pull out and make you take m’ fingers instead?” He pulled his hips back, and you gasped, immediately reaching back to grab at his arm.

“No! I can take it, promise! I’m a big girl!”

“Are you? And here I was under the impression that y’ were just a little thing.”

“No! Please!” You begged.

Then he thrust forward, and you let out a wail into the open air. Good thing no one could hear you back here. “Alright then. Wan’ you to lay there and take every last inch of Daddy’s dick.”

And you did. He fucked you hard and fast, and you clawed at the cushions for purchase, your mouth open, your eyes screwed shut. It felt like heaven, and you were certain you weren’t even on Earth in that moment. You were floating above yourself, watching your husband claim you as his.

Again, drool spilled from your mouth, this time soaking the fabric of the cushion beneath you. You moaned and squealed and cried out, wonderfully blissed out.

But all too soon, Rhett was switching positions again. He pulled out of you once more, and this time, you wailed. “Daddy, no!”

“Be fuckin’ patient,” he huffed as he turned you onto your back. “I’m gon’ give it back to you.” He shoved your knees up toward your chest, and then he was inside you again, stealing the breath from your lungs.

This time, he pressed the weight of his body against you, keeping you grounded as he began fucking into you. A hand came up to wrap around your throat, squeezing the sides, not to cut off airflow, but blood flow. Within seconds, your head was going woozy, and Rhett grinned down at you.

“Filthy little slut. Bet you’d come right now just from my hand around your throat if I let ya.”

You would, because you’d done it before. However, that wasn’t his goal in that particular instance. He simply wanted to watch the way your body reacted to it. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your mouth fell open, leaving you in this state of pure, unadulterated bliss.

He felt you tighten around him, and he grunted, pushing his cock even deeper. Your hands clutched at his flexed forearm, nails digging into the skin, sure to leave marks. He growled and grunted above you like a goddamned animal, fucking you within an inch of your life, and you took it like the good girl you were.

And then you felt it. The tip of his cock brushed something inside you that sent you into orbit.

“That’s it. Look at’cha. Got your eyes rollin’ back in your fuckin’ head.” Then he grabbed one of your hands and brought it down to your lower abdomen. “Feel that?”

All you could do was squeak in reply.

“‘S Daddy’s cock inside ya.”

At that, you let out a deep keen, tears beginning to stream down the sides of your face. You sobbed and moaned and made all sorts of sounds that you might’ve otherwise been embarrassed about, but Rhett couldn’t get enough.

Then his scruffy face was nuzzling into your neck, and his teeth were nipping at your pulse point, and you swore you were going to black out from the glorious intensity.

“D-d-” was what came out of your mouth. He knew what you were trying to say.

“What is it, huh darlin’? What’s my baby need?” Suddenly his fingers were at your aching clit, rubbing short, sharp circles, and you jolted against him like a live wire, pussy clamping around him. “Oh, that’s what you needed. Poor thing, Daddy was neglecting that sweet little clit. I’m sorry.”

He kissed you, swallowing your cries as he pumped his hips in time with his fingers at your clit. That, paired with his free hand still around your throat, you knew you were a goner.

“Go-gonna c-c-come! Please D-Daddy can I–”

But you didn’t even have to ask. “Come.”

And you did. You tried to scream, but it died in your throat. Instead, your mouth opened, but no sound came out. Rhett stayed close, his forehead pressed to yours as you fell apart around his pistoning cock.

You were free-falling, plunged straight into the depths of an orgasm so fiery and all-consuming that you lost yourself to it. You were not of yourself. You were on an entirely different plane of existence, vibrating with crackling electricity, as if you were a bolt of lightning flashing through the sky.

The molten heat surged through you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. And Rhett held you the entire time, your body trembling fiercely in his arms.

It took some time to come back to yourself, and when you did, you found him gazing down at you, his eyes as clear blue as the sky above him. He let out a breathless laugh. “Hey there, darlin’. Welcome back to earth.” He’d slowed the movement of his hips just to let you recover.

“I…wow,” was all you could say.

“That was intense, huh?”

You nodded, your eyes watery.

“You okay to keep goin’? Or do you need a break?”

“I-I think I’m…okay.”

But that didn’t convince him. “Look at Daddy.” You lifted your eyes to his gaze. “I need a for-sure answer. Can I keep goin’?”

“Yes,” you finally answered with confidence. “Wan’ you to keep going, please Daddy.”

He smiled softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Good girl, that’s all I needed.” Then he kissed you before he leaned back, pushing your knees toward your chest again.

And just like that, the switch was flipped, and he slipped right back into that harsh dominance, as if it was a well-fitted glove. Suddenly he seemed so much bigger above you, and you felt tiny. It made your heart sing.

Slowly, he began to move within you again, and you whined, closing your eyes at the delicious stretch. Rhett leaned back to admire the sight of your pussy swallowing him whole, and the creamy ring of your cum that now decorated the base of his cock.

He reached down, swiping his fingers against the base and gathering your slick before he brought those same fingers to your mouth, sliding them past your lips. “Tastes so good, don’t it?” He murmured lowly, and you nodded in agreement, eyes wide and watery, gazing up at him with such trust and adoration.

He leaned in to kiss you, tasting your cum on your lips. He stayed close, wrapping your legs around your waist and pressing his chest to yours. He began to fuck you deep and slow, rutting into you. This allowed you to feel every inch, every spasm, everything.

He caged you in with his big strong arms, protecting you from the word. You were so safe. So secure. Rhett would protect you from all harm.

“You mind if Daddy fills y’ up, baby?”

“Please,” came your whisper.

“Good. ‘Cause ‘m close.”

With his mouth against yours, he began to pick up the pace again. Quick but deep thrusts, cock battering that spot inside you that made your toes curl. It was inevitable that you’d come once more before he did, just by the way he had you feeling. A steady pressure had begun to build deep within the core of your being, and eventually, it would have to be released.

Then his fingers were at your sensitive clit again and you were mewling into his open mouth. Stars danced in your eyes, on your skin. You felt like you were part of a glittering galaxy.

Your arms found their place around your husband’s shoulders, and you held tightly to him as he went a little faster, a little deeper. Building and building and building. And you were already growing closer by the second. You knew your end was almost upon you.

“Daddy!”

“Go ahead.”

This time, when you came, it flooded from you, soaking Rhett’s cock, dripping down beneath you onto the lounge cushion. It was his turn to have his eyes roll back in his head, and he fucked you through it.

“Fuck, got this pussy squirtin’ all over me,” he hissed, slipping out of you to run the tip of his cock rapidly over your clit, prolonging your orgasm and making you cry out.

Just as you came down, he slid back into your still-spasming cunt, grunting at the tightness that surrounded him. He gripped your thighs in his strong grasp and his focus shifted to chasing his release.

Beneath him you were so far gone that all you could do was lay there and take it, still writhing in bliss, silent, pleasured tears falling. Your head was swimming, you felt as if you were floating through time and space.

You nodded, eager to take his load. His movements quickened, hands clutching you tight as he thrust forward hard and fast. You held onto him to keep yourself grounded, body trembling, hovering on the brink of being too overstimulated to handle much more.

And then, finally, you felt it. Rhett gasped, mouth falling open as his orgasm overwhelmed him. He kept his hips flush with yours, cock spasming within you, spilling the heat of his release into the deepest part of you. And you took it all gladly, body relaxing entirely at the feeling of him claiming you. You’d never tire of it.

He gradually came down, his body falling limp above you, though he still kept himself from pressing his full body weight into you. His softening cock was still nestled inside you, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, hoping to keep him there a little longer.

“M’ good girl,” he cooed down at you. “Took that so well.”

You smiled dreamily up at him. You didn’t quite have the wherewithal to speak, but that was okay. He didn’t need you to speak. Gingerly, he moved to slip out of you, but you whined in protest, not wanting to part from him.

“Y’ gotta let me go, honey. Can’t stay like this forever.”

“W-want you close,” you whispered.

“I know, and you can have me. But I gotta get you cleaned up first. And it’s gettin’ hotter by the minute, I ain’t about to let my pretty little gal get heatstroke on my account.”

He kissed you sweetly as he pulled his hips back, shushing your cries. You hated the initial empty feeling, especially when you were feeling fragile like this. But Rhett was quick to soothe you.

“Up ya go.” He lifted you to your feet, and you wobbled a little, still woozy. He secured a steady arm around you and guided you back into the house.

It was much cooler inside, and it felt good on your heated skin. However, you hardly even registered what was taking place, you were still feeling floaty. But Rhett had it handled.

He guided you upstairs, where he made sure you used the bathroom and took a quick shower just to rinse off. You didn’t have to make any of the decisions for yourself, because he did it for you, knowing you couldn’t handle trying to clean up by yourself. You needed this form of aftercare for your own well-being.

A little while later, you were clean, and dressed in one of his old rodeo t-shirts. You felt a little more like yourself, albeit a little fuzzy. Rhett had just finished helping you put lotion on your legs, and he was smiling up at you from where he knelt on the floor.

“I’ll bet you’re hungry after all that work,” he teased.

You hummed sleepily. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“How do some blueberry pancakes sound for my little darlin’?”

It was your turn to smile. “Sounds so good.”

“Alright then, let’s head on downstairs. You’re also gon’ drink yourself a nice glass of water while you’re waitin’ for your food. Ain’t gonna have you dehydratin’ on me.”

You hummed in agreement and allowed him to lead you out of the bedroom and back downstairs. He kissed the top of your head as you went, and you sighed happily, feeling at peace.

You were led to the kitchen, where you sat at the round table and waited for your husband to prepare your breakfast. As promised, he slid a glass of water in front of you and encouraged you to drink it. You sipped on it as you watched him move about the kitchen, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how good you had it.

Spending the morning being fucked by the pool, and having breakfast made for you? The old you could never have imagined this would be the case. You were eternally grateful that life had given you a second chance and allowed this man to come to your rescue when you needed him most.

You had faced a lot of adversity in your life, but now, it all seemed worth it, because it led you here.

Rhett truly was your saving grace. The yin to your yang. The moon to your stars. He was your million dollar man, and you wouldn’t trade him, or his love, for anything else in the world.

tagging those who might be interested (if you liked/reblogged any of my mdm promotional posts, i tagged you lol)

@eternallyvenus @up-thereinthesky @antiquitea @cdauni @coffeewithcal @rhettabbotts @combat-sixty-three @karma-is-my-girlfrined @blitchenslibrary @whoeverineedtobe @l-ynsdove @ravenmoore14 @virgo-wonder @sugarcoated-lame @sebsxphia @peachystenbrough @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @damrlova @randomfandomgirl97 @bobfloyds @beepitybeepboop @buckys-estrella @callsign-magnolia @sunblchdfly @wkndwlff @withahappyrefrain @creatchie8 @topgun-imagines @lovinglyeternal @bobfloydsbabe

#jesus lord thank you for writing and sharing this i'm on cloud 9 #fic rec #rhett abbott x reader #june recs #stardust reblog challenge

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onyourhyuck · 2 years ago

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Cupid’s Chokehold. | Mark Lee (M)

prologue- “You hate it don’t you..?” + “I think i fell in love with you again.”

tw- Romantic fluff. Established relationship. Mark is a dorky bf and y/n is giving chaotic gf on crack vibes. I dunno enjoy this cute scenario hehe. Slight spicy suggestiveness at the end. SUGGESTIVENESS. BIG SPICY ENDING.

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You couldn’t contain the most giddiest grin shaping on your beautiful round face. Your skin evaporating into reddish colours as your fingers fiddle open with the package that has been delivered to your doorstep just few minutes ago.

you’re probably wondering what you’re bought recently that is getting you so excited, to the point you dropped out of your favourite twitch streamer’s video and Usain bolted to the door like there was a sense of danger about to happen.

Well those questions will be answered the moment your lips left out a cackle of innocent laughs in the bathroom you were hiding away from. You reach the mirror as you simply put on the shorts.

Yes you’ve ordered shorts. But not just any shorts, these shorts are custom-made with your favourite human in your entire world. Your sunshine, your reason to smile and feel the emotion happiness. In this cruel world this person needs to be protected above all matters. It was your boyfriend’s face printed on the middle of the shorts.

You smirk watching yourself in the mirror. Imagination was not enough to imagine how your boyfriend will react to this, but you know this will be a good one.

Okay perhaps if he doesn’t know the money that went into this then MAYBE it might be a good one. But you couldn’t contain yourself! I mean it’s shorts with his face on it. If this doesn’t scream to people that you’re taken and he’s taken to other people then you don’t know what can.

You unlock the bathroom door swinging out, marching to your shared bedroom where your boyfriend was sitting in his desk with earphones, singing aloud lyrics that he’s been working on for quite some time. Mark has always been a musically talented boy, from the moment he was born he was thriving with talent. Creative talent. He’s so good at writing, wording words. You sometimes wondered how did you pull such an endearing golden retriever?

Mark couldn’t hear you enter the bedroom but he felt your hands wrap around the headphone sets to pull it down to his neck. He turns around watching your face with slight surprise, but when he saw you back away, twirling around with a face trying to hold in your laughter. Mark’s eyes widen at the shorts.

“Babe what is this Oh MY —..”

He felt gobsmacked. Lips quiver open as his jaw loosens and he lets out a gasp of disbelief. He stands up, his stomach begins to twist in historic laughs emitting the silliness in it. You laugh with him but he fell on his knees when he stands up approaching you, holding his face.

“I- y/n that’s my face?” He asks as you give him a nod, a proud one in fact. You turn around wiggling about the room.

“Yuppp you like it?” You grin.

He stays silent watching you in slight shock. You stop your sudden movements, pausing midway as you whisper again. “You like it right?” But he didn’t answer. Mark stands up from the floor, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh no.”

“You hate it don’t you?” You return back as your boyfriend slowly holds your hands, he tries his best to keep his eyes to stare at your face but everytime he gets reminded of his large face on your scaling crotch on the shorts he just falls down looking somewhere he shouldn’t be. Something about this was like a Cupid’s chokehold.

Because you look stunning in these ridiculous silly shorts even if it is quite hilarious, you somehow made it possible to look ethereal and unreal; how? He asks himself that in his whipped brain.

You were Cupid’s workpiece. It’s masterpiece. You were a running work of art that couldn’t live in an art gallery, because you would overtake everyone’s attention. Mark was a little slow at responding but he gathers his feelings, calming down, but inside you truly flustered him. Especially seeing your girlfriend walk in some shorts with her boyfriend’s face on it, that somehow makes him laugh.

But love you ten thousandfolds more. You were his Cupid’s Chokehold.

��You’re kidding right?” He brings up softly, hands latching on both your jawline lifting you to look at him without a complaint, you stare back with a sad pout, resembling a puppy. God how you make him go crazy over everything you do.

Whether it would be the most simplest thing. He keeps falling deeper and deeper.

“I think i fell in love with you again, Y/n.” Mark softly whispers kissing your forehead sweetly, planting his love seed on your skin like it were a canvas, he disorients your mind like a drug.

You let out a soft sigh of relief and a smile as you wrap your hands around the boy’s waist, pulling him in a relaxing lazy embrace. You giggle,

“Good! Because i got you a little something. Stay here wait for me.” You trail backing away out of the door and leaving for a short minute.

Mark blinks staying still like you’ve ordered. The anticipation was soon broken as you ran back inside the room with the same pairing of shorts but, with your face on it in the centre of the pants.

He grins ear to ear. Of course you had to get matchings, it wouldn’t be you if you didn’t do your girlfriend duty; to match every single clothing item with him.

“Oh of course you couldn’t leave me hanging huh?” Mark smirks as he walks towards you grabbing a hold of the shorts, you smirk rolling your eyes jokingly.

“Duh. That would make me a bad girlfriend wouldn’t it?” You shrug your shoulders proudly as Mark would strip the lower clothing, changing into the matching shorts. He laughs at himself in the mirror reflection.

“Y’know this is kinda hot.” Mark leans to you, sneaking his right hand on your waist as he catches you by surprise with the pull to his body suddenly. He looks down to your eyes then to those rosey lips he so craves right now. The boy kisses the girl, and you couldn’t help but to listen to your beating heart thumping so hard in your body.

You pull away from the kiss, teasing mark by running away from his love. He gives you an expression of distraught and a mix of whine, as he tightens the hold on your body, groping your ass a little behind in the shorts. You flash him a sly smile,

Tutting your index finger at his lips when he was leaning to your lips to kiss you once again.

“The shorts stay on durning sex, Mark. Can you work with that?” You whisper and Mark pushes your finger from his lips where he pushes you on the bed. He crawls on top of you, chuckling deeply with his husky voice that drives you on the edge.

He caressed your hips through the shorts fabric, humming in agreement.

“I wasn’t planning on taking them off anyways, baby, they’re the best part.”

Oh god, you’re definitely the cupid that has him in a chokehold.

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu. Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates!

#nct fanfiction #nct smut #nct x reader #nct u scenarios #nct hard hours #nct dream #mark lee fluff #mark hard hours #mark fanfic #nct mark smut #mark scenarios #mark lee #nct 127 smut #nct dream fluff #nct fic #nct recs

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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years ago

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Hickeys and Revenge - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: angst, crack, swearing, fluff

Summary: Bakugou learned his lesson from his cheating prank but you weren’t satisfied quite yet. The man really almost broke you so to get back at him, you decided to pull this little masterpiece.

A/N: H/T means Hair Type!!! This is also related to this fic which you should read in order to understand the beginning of this story.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

“Mina. Get your ass over here, I need you to suck on my titts.”

—

You couldn’t hold your laughter as you demanded your best friend to come and give you hickeys over the phone.

Not too long ago, your lovely boyfriend, Bakugou Katsuki, decided to pull a little prank on you. It wasn’t uncommon. You were the type of couple to enjoy a laugh every now and then but there was only one rule. No cheating pranks, no breaking up pranks. That was all. However, after being on a losing streak, your boyfriend decided to pull a little prank that very much broke the rules. In the end, he was also hurt but at least you knew he wouldn’t be pulling anything stupid like that again.

After that, you both went back to normal. You guys were once again happy, loving, cuddly, all the good stuff. But something in the back of your mind knew you weren’t quite satisfied with Katsuki’s punishment. You decided you had to feed the flames just a bit more to have your revenge. This ended up with you pulling a little hickey prank.

Now you were a prank master! You were skilled, smart, creative, and maniacal. Things had to be just right when it came down to it. That is why instead of using makeup like anyone else would, you’re looking for real, authentic hickeys. Since you obviously can’t have your boyfriend be the one to give you these hickeys, it would have to be your bestie, Ashido Mina.

—

“What?!” Mina laughed on the other side of the phone.

“It’s for a prank! Remember Katsuki’s cheating prank?” You said with excitement.

“Yeah. The one where he failed miserably and you ended up breaking up with him until you figured out it was a prank and you guys got back together after 3 days.” She explained.

“Gee, thanks for the play by play of me almost walking out of my very happy relationship.” You sarcastically replied. “Anyway, as revenge, I’m gonna do a little hickey prank!”

“Revenge? Girl, were you not satisfied with him being devastated over your almost breakup?” She asked.

“It’s not enough!” You replied.

“Not enough? Honey, he locked himself in the house for days. Eijirou had to force him to bathe and eat. What do you mean not enough?” She explained.

“Awwww, my poor baby. Look, I know he went through shit but he caused it! I didn’t get any revenge. I’m feening for it.” You explained.

“Alright, alright,” Mina giggled. “I’ll be over in 10..you fucking sadist.”

“Thank you!”

—

Time had passed and you were expecting the arrival of your best friend any minute now. You figured it’d be fine for her to be over for a bit because Katsuki was out on his final patrol for the week. After that, you’d have him all to yourself since he’d be home for the rest of the day.

Finally, after waiting and waiting, a knock was heard from the front door. You ran to the wooden structure and opened it to be blessed with the pink sight.

“Hickey time!” Mina said in a sing-song voice. You both laughed as she came in and you pulled her to the couch. “Okay, how are we doing this.”

“Uh, I don’t know- fuck this is so weird!” You joked as you both laughed again. “Okay, ummm, I think I’ll take a few on my chest and then some on my neck.”

“Okay. Should we have them like, trail up. Do you want me to go and make it look like he went from here to here?” She said and pointed from your chest to your lips, to which you nodded. “Wow bitch, you’re bold, wearing a tube top and everything!”

“I know right!” You both laughed. You layed back and pulled your tube top down to reveal your bra. Before you started, you pulled out your phone and started recording. You needed proof to show Katsuki that this was the work of your best friend and not some rando. Finally, Mina leaned down as you both released giggles and she placed her lips on your left mound. “What the fuck, this is so weird!”

You both laughed and Mina pulled her lips away as she began dying. You both turned red in the face as tears filled your eyes due to all the laughing. You both finally settled and she began sucking on your boob.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” was all you could say as you laughed. “Wow, oh my gosh, your lips are sooo soft! Kiri is getting a treat!” You teased as Mina pulled off to laugh again.

She finally created the first mark and pulled off as you both took a look at her work. “Holy shit! There’s a fucking hickey!” You said like a teenage girl.

“That’s a fucking hickey, all right.” Mina said, proud of what she had done.

“What the fuck? This is really good!” You laughed. “You’re so good at this, how often do you practice? Is there a hickey on Kirishima right now?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Mina laughed. You both joked around a little more as she continued to mark you. It’s safe to say the whole procedure was quite comical.

—

“Can you like..make it darker? Like suck harder.”

*Mina sucking on your neck harder*

“Yeah, yeah. Harder. Yeah.”

—

“Ow! Did you just bite me?”

“Sorry! Instinct!”

“Ow...does it look bad?”

“It looks more believable.”

“Oh.....do it again.”

—

“This is weird...it’s like..hot when Katsuki does it though.”

“Okay, can you not talk about how you like it better when your boyfriend gives you hickeys while I’m literally swallowing your neck right now?”

—

Finally, after about 20 minutes of sucking and laughing, you were finally marked with red and purple hickeys. You looked in the mirror and were stunned with the work. You turned to face your best friend and high fived her.

Encouraging her to stay for a bit, you both spent some girl time together before she had to go due to Katsuki’s arrival approaching. After saying your farewells, you shut the door and jumped in excitement.

“Shits about to get real.”

—

You sat on the couch waiting for Katsuki’s arrival. Soon enough, the sound of his car door shutting alerted you of your boyfriend’s presence. You quickly covered your hickeys with your hair and went back in your phone to appear natural. Finally, after the sound of jingling keys, your boyfriend walked through the door with his best friend.

“Hi baby!” You said with glee as you got up and went to greet Katsuki with a kiss. He happily returned the quick peck and took note of your attire.

“The hell? Why’re you wearing this?” He asked, looking down at your tube top and spandex. You rolled your eyes knowing how he was whenever you wore clothes that exposed a little more than necessary around others.

“Because I didn’t know you were bringing Kirishima over so I stayed comfy.” You explained as Katsuki held his arms around you, grumbling about how you made a fair point.

After speaking for a little bit at the doorway, Katsuki made his way over to his best friend who had already made himself comfortable in the kitchen with a beer in his hand. The two were like brothers so it wasn’t uncommon for them to act this way in each other’s homes. While the two men were in the kitchen, you made your way up to your shared bedroom. You would rather have Katsuki see the hickeys in a private setting so that your upcoming argument wouldn’t take place in front of Kirishima.

Katsuki spent about 20 minutes down there with Kirishima before deciding to check up on you. The red head was fine with waiting in the kitchen and nodded his head at his friend when he decided to check up on you.

The blonde finally walked in through the room to see you sitting criss-crossed on the bed, looking at your phone. He shut the door as he approached you and you looked up and smiled at his arrival.

“Hi.” You said as you sat up a little straighter.

“Hey.” He said as he walked over and wrapped his arms around you before picking you up to kiss you. You both held the tiniest make out session before you settled to just holding each other, with your arms wrapped around his neck.

Katsuki joined you on the bed for a bit as you both sat together while still cuddled up. “How was your day, baby?”

“It was fine I guess. Nothing really happened. I stayed home, waiting for you dummy.” You said, trying to make Mina’s markings more noticeable. He still didn’t see them though.

“Oh yeah? Waiting for me to do what?” He smirked at you.

“Shut up, you fucking horn-dog. Waiting to spend some time with you. That’s all.” You said and Katsuki jokingly pouted.

“So you didn’t want me to come home and fuck you stupid?” He asked, pulling you into his lap.

“No. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to now.” You said in a soft voice. He chuckled softly before kissing the clean side of your neck.

“Maybe after Shitty Hair leaves,” he said before picking up his little pecks again. “I’ll do you just how I want to.”

He finally shifted over to the other side of your neck where the markings remained and he finally took notice of the work Mina had done. He paused his teasing and pulled away with a confused look in his face and furrowed his brows. He licked his thumb and reached out to wipe at the mark but silently seethed when it didn’t wipe away.

“What?” You questioned and Katsuki gently took you off his lap before standing up to pace around a bit. You walked to Katsuki in a “confused” manner before he stopped you.

“Uhhh...hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on.” He ran his hand through his hair, like he usually did in stressful situations, before looking at you.

“Uh, what- what is that? On your Uh-“ he said and tapped his neck. You went to your vanity mirror before turning to face him again. “Is that a hickey?”

‘Showtime’ you thought to yourself. “N-no. No, it’s not a hickey-“

“Then what is it?” He eagerly questioned with fear and anger laced in his voice.

“I don’t know, I was running and I fell and-“

“And what? You fell and got bruises?” He said looking at your neck and chest. He walked to you and pulled down your shirt to reveal the hickeys Mina left on your mid-chest. Katsuki shook his head and backed up, more pissed off than before. “No. No- you don’t fucking fall and get bruises on your neck and chest like that. So is it a fucking hickey?”

“No, no it’s not a hickey I swear.” You said softly, walking up to hug him but he gently stepped out of your hold. “Babe, babe-“

“Mm, no that’s definitely a fucking hickey.” He said as he chewed on his lower lip. “S’a fucking hickey.”

“No it’s not, I was using the H/T iron and I guess I burned myself-”

“Your hair is naturally H/T. Why would you need to use a H/T iron?” He said. You were stunned in silence but wanted to smile, appreciating the fact that your boyfriend knew you so well.

“Y/N are you fucking serious?!” He said, raising his voice a bit to show his anger.

“It’s not a hickey! I swear!” You said and walked to the mirror and he followed you.

“You’re fucking lying! ‘Cuz you don’t fucking get hickeys on your chest and titts randomly.” He said as you turned to walk to him, causing him to step back.

“I- I was using makeup and-“

“I swiped at it already, it’s not fucking coming off!”

“No I was like, I was fighting-“

“Fighting with what?!”

“I don’t know I just-“

“No, no! Stop! Can you stop coming towards me right now? You’re fucking lying to me and making up excuses. Those are fucking hickeys.” He said at a good distance away as tears began to fill his eyes. “Are you serious, Y/N?”

“....I’m sorry.” You quietly said. Your apology pushed his tears to flow as he dropped his head back and used his hands to wipe away his tears.

“You’re sorry? You’re not fucking sorry! You’re a fucking hoe that cheated on me while I was away. Are you fucking serious?” He said looking at you with teary eyes and a red nose. “Hurry the fuck up and just say you cheated on me!”

“No!” You whined. Katsuki laughed and rolled his neck as he wiped more tears before taking some random thing and throwing it at the wall, creating a loud sound.

“The fuck is wrong with you?! Did I do something wrong?! Tell me!” He said, shouting at you.

“No! You didn’t do anything!” You said, standing still.

“I must’ve done something! Or what? Are you just a slut that likes fucking attention? Is that why you’re okay being dressed like that around Kirishima?” He asked with an angry voice as he looked at your attire once more. He watched as you shook your head ‘no’ before his eyes dropped down to the markings on your upper body.

“Why would you do this?!” He said with a cracked voice as he openly cried now and walked to you. “I fucking love you Y/N! How could you do this to me? We’ve been together for years! I spent years of my life with you and you do this?!”

After seeing his tears and hearing his broken voice, you decided this was enough.

“Katsuki...” you softly said as you reached out for his arm. You expected the argument to go on longer but Katsuki seemed like he was heartbroken and done as he tried to walk away from your touch. “No, no Katsuki wait!”

“Get off of me.” He said trying to shake you off but you lightened your voice and coated it with giggles to assure him.

“No wait! Baby it’s a prank! It’s a prank I swear!” You said standing in front of him, pushing him deeper into the room. He turned around to avoid you but you only clung to his back. “Mina did it! Mina came and did it!”

“Baby, I swear!” You said, turning him around and keeping his front facing you

“KIRISHIMA!” He called out and soon enough, the red head came in, cautious of what was going on.

“What happened?” Kirishima softly asked in confusion. A quiet silence filled the room and all that could be heard was your boyfriend’s heavy breathing.

“I’m shaking right now.” The blonde said in your hold.

“Why?” Kirishima asked, looking to you.

“He thinks I cheated on him because I have hickeys but Mina came over earlier and did it.” You said as the red head walked into the room.

Silence filled the room once more as Kirishima inspected the scene. He looked at your hickeys, to your face, to Katsuki’s shaking body and teary eyes. “I don’t believe that.”

“You don’t believe me?” You asked him.

“Not really. I want to but why would Mina come and give you hickeys on your chest and neck?” The red head said with his hands in his pockets and head tilted to the side.

“I swear she did it, I have the footage.” You said pulling out your phone.

“No- no, this is fucking dumb. I guess we’re over.” Katsuki said and began walking to the door but you quickly pulled up the video and jumped on him. He wouldn’t turn and so you put the video in front of his face as he began to watch, alongside Kirishima.

After finishing the video, Katsuki crouched down to the ground and allowed his head to drop as he gave a relieved sigh. You laughed at him and began to hug his shoulders as Kirishima laughed in the back.

“I’m sorry baby!” You said. Bakugou surprised you with tears of joy and a smile as he quickly turned to give you a hug while he stood up and assaulted your face in quick pecks.

“Alright, well how the fuck do we get rid of these Mina marks?” Katsuki asked, wiping at your neck.

“You could do it with a cold spoon.” Kirishima interjected causing you and Katsuki to settle.

“Oh..oh yeah, you would know.” You both simultaneously said and laughed at him. The red head blushed and turned to the same shade as his hair before coming up with a comeback.

“You guys are just weird!” Kirishima embarrassingly joked before walking out of the room, laughing and going back down to his beer.

Bakugou held you in his arms and swayed you as you allowed him to kiss your face. “I’m sorry~”

“Baby, that’s so messed up!” He laughed out with a sigh as he placed his head to your own. “I almost fucking left you!”

“I know, you were so mad.” You said in a sad but laughing voice as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “But that’s what you get! Now you know how I felt when you fucking pranked me last time.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I get it, this is why we don’t pull these types of pranks.” He said.

“Exactly.” You pecked his nose before continuing. “I’m sorry.” You whispered before he placed a long and hot kiss on your lips. He picked you up as you wrapped your legs around his torso while your arms tightened around his neck.

“Aww, I feel so bad!” You whimpered as you tucked your head into his neck. “Are you mad at me?”

“No. You’re my girl.” He said with his husky voice.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

You pulled your head back to peck his lips and he did the same and kissed you back. You both went in for more small pecks before you pulled away the slightest bit to make fun of him.

“You got praaaannkkkeeddd!” You said before laughing again, to which he rolled his eyes and flopped onto the bed with you in his hold.

“I’m gonna get you back.” He said with determination in his eyes.

“You’re gonna get me back?” You questioned.

“Yup.”

“No!” You giggled out.

“Mhm. I’m probably gonna cut your hair this time. Maybe throw all your makeup out the window, I don’t know.” He threatened.

“Those aren’t pranks! Those’ll actually do damage!” You said.

“Mhm!” He agreed and you both just laughed some more. You made it up to him with apology cuddles in bed for the next half hour before you both remembered you had a guest in your house. Katsuki quickly got up once he realized his friend was still in his house and went to kick the red head out.

“Why’re you making him leave?” You asked as Katsuki stood at the bedroom exit.

“Because apology cuddles aren’t enough. You’re making it up to me in another way.” He said with a wink and smirk before walking out the door. You laughed and sighed before flopping down on the bed with a blush. With his leave, you mentally began to prepare yourself for the hours of rough make-up sex that was to come.

Tag list: @sxcker4you @aomi04 @tessabrown101 @ebiharachan @is-this-ash @iris-shihabi @sxturn-stars @isolight

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ggukkiereads · 4 years ago

Note

Hewwooo!!! Do you have any fic recs where the boy is the piner one? and oblivious!oc or something like that... it's always the other way around 😣😣 thank you so much!

🌷 Hello anon! These are what I remember.. Strangely most of them are part of my #holygrailfics which I marked with a carrot 🥕 But, everything is a must read 🥰

UNREQUITED LOVE AUs - Member!Pining

💔 Most of the stories will eventually achieve redamancy. There are just few fics here where it’s unrequited all throughout

Re: Untitled @to-star-lake - Jungkook 🥕

↳ Arranged Marriage, Childhood Acquaintances, Enemies to Lovers, CEO/Executives, Angst, Smut, Fluff [4/4][

This is really one of my favorite discoveries 🥰 At that time there wasn’t much info or even comments on the fic so if you’re not as daring to try fics out, it’s easy to assume it’ll be just a regular story. But I'm glad my curiousity won because this is such a gem. It was painful and lovely unpacking all the discoveries in their relationship (or lack of) per chapter 🥰. I swear the plot “twists” per episode made the fic extra memorable.

Frost Impressions @fortunexkookie - Jungkook 🥕

↳ Teacher AU, Gamer AU, Simultaneous (One-Sided) Enemies to Lovers, Best Friends to Lovers, Idiots to Lovers AU, Humor, Tooth-rotting Fluff, Smut, Heavy Pining, Slight Angst [one shot]

ugh this just puts a smile on my face every time I remember this. I was just thinking about this Jungkook the other day. OC is oblivious because, well, they have this E2L thing going on. Plus he didn’t exactly give a great FIRST IMPRESSION. So many AUs thrown in but author was able to squeeze it all and produce this masterpiece. It’s just a feel-good fic 🥰

Love So Shallow @jimlingss - Taehyung 🥕

↳ Best Friend AU, College AU, eventual Roommate AU, eventual Pining [3/3]

also one of the best written OCs in fic land. Please read this gem. I still gush over how their relationship developed and you’ll see how the “pining” develops too. It’s a great Love Yourself theme too!

Paper Cranes @aquaminwrites - Taehyung 🥕

↳ Slice of Life, Childhood Friends, Best Friend AU, College [one shot]

Ugh my heart ached for this Taehyung. I don’t know why I feel bad for him (I mean, it wasn’t as if he was to be pitied) but the way author wrote his story is guaranteed to pull at your heartstrings.

※※※※※※※※※※※※

The Key to My Drawer @jjungkookislife - Taehyung 🥰

↳ Best Friend AU, Childhood Friends, Epistolary (letter form, some parts), Angst, Smut [12/12]

I was just thinking about this the other day because we’re just waiting for the last chapter/epilogue and then I saw the notif on ao3 that it got updated. What do you do when you get hold of a key to a drawer and discover unsent letters from your best friend? All addressed to you? It’s such a creative way to tell a story and I enjoyed this very much 🥰

(please access the rest of the chapters through the author’s masterlist)

Please Be Naked @floralseokjin - Yoongi 🥕

↳ Rebound AU, OC is Namjoon’s Ex, Namjoon is Yoongi’s ex-friend [8/8]

“you were still a little unsure why he and your ex....had bad blood.” of course we all want to tell OC why! Seriously, this is a classic if you haven’t read this yet. Yoongi’s just top-tier in this. Unforgettable characterization. Even if you are not into Yoongi fics, this is a must read for bts fics in general. The angst/smut is just 👌; then read the drabbles for the fluffy future

One Thing Right by hobios - Jungkook 🥕

↳ Arranged Marriage AU, Fake Marriage AU, Childhood Friends AU, Enemies to Lovers, Police Office AU, slow burn [8/8]

So I am adding this to every fic rec list because like RE: Untitled, there’s a lot of discoveries in this fic. It’s always a question why Sheriff Jeon will agree to a marriage of convenience (I mean he’s committing fraud in a way). So it’s wonderful to discover a lot things about their story since they had a falling out.

※※※※※※※※※※※※

Roses, Poetry, and Jeon @seraphimguks - Jungkook ⭐☕💌

↳ bookstore au, enemies to lovers-ish?, fluff, slight angst [one shot]

This is just so beautiful and it is like curling up by the window on a rainy day with a warm hot chocolate. I think in my review I said the shift to Jungkook’s POV is like seeing poetry in action. Must read and instantly a favorite of mine

Tinder 2.0 @tayegi - Jungkook 🥕 🔥

↳ sex app/room, Coworker, Enemies to Lovers, Crack, Smut [one shot]

This is kind of different from the rest of this list because it’s more crack and smuttier. The pining is not as intense but it’s there. Please give this a read too.

※※※※※※※※※※※※

Fluff and Smut @jinggabitch - Jungkook

↳ smut, porn star JK, OC is a fluffer, one-sided pining [drabble]

Porn star JK is in love with his fluffer. - I remember reading this months ago and I found it so cute. Though it’s just a drabble, which means the story didn’t continue on, I got invested in this JK and hoped he gets what he wants.

※※※※※※※※※※※※

Bad Influence Collection @noteguk - Jungkook ⭐🔥

↳ FWB AU, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies with Benefits, College, Bad Boy AU, Smut [4/?]

please click the link to the masterpost so you’ll access the very first story. Maybe it didn’t start out pining at first but the recent chapters we see Jungkook getting so affected over OC (it’s mutual but I feel at this point its more JK trying so hard not to show heart eyes 😍). Ugh, the joy I feel whenever this gets updated. Still ongoing but better start on this since some chapters are over 10k+ wc.

Hot Enough @soft-sarcasm - Yoongi ⭐🔥

↳ College AU, Fuckboy AU, FWB AU, Yoongi caught feelings (kind of Unrequited AU), Smut, Angst [one shot]

I’ve read years this years ago and when I decided to officially have a blog, it took me months to find this. It’s just memorable because usually it’s the female catching feelings in a friends-with-benefits scenario. But here, OC actually rejected him (that’s the start of the story). Please read and find out what happens next.

※※※※※※※※※※※※

First Love @jungnoir - Yoongi

↳ bestfriend au, OC about to get married

so this is sad at first because it’s only hours away from her wedding but read until the end 😍

Not Yet + Almost @bratkook - Jungkook

↳ neighbor AU, kinda fake boyfriend (on the spot) to annoy OC’s Ex [2/?]

ahh this is cute. I shouldn’t be smiling at Jungkook’s pain but it was just so cute. It’s more of mutual pining though. The first drabble is more on JK’s while Almost we get to see OC’s thoughts. So, I guess in the third???

※※※※※※※※※※※※

Pining 101 @guklvr - Jungkook

↳ hospital au, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, humor, fluff [drabble series]

a collection of drabbles based on pediatricsurgeon!jk dealing with his crush on generalsurgeon!reader. Read if you’re looking for something light and humorous.

※※※※※※※※※※※※

Sidekick @bananagukkie - Jungkook

↳ superhero au, best friend au, fluff [one shot]

You didn’t realize that your best friend was in love with you or the fact that he was Busan’s “newest” hero.

Lifting the Veil @/fortunekookie - Jungkook 😭

↳ real unrequited love/pining, friends to lovers, smut, angst [one shot]

so yeah I guess read this first because it sure is angsty then read other fluffy fics (like Pining 101 or Frost Impressions)

※※※※※※※※※※※※

Requiem @cinnaminsvga - Jungkook

↳ pretend confession!au, angst [drabble]

Jeon Jungkook loves you. You love someone else. He lets you say “I love you” to him, if only so that he gets to hear it once in his life. - so yeah, let’s cry about it 😭

Unveil @nijoonie - Jimin

↳ Arranged Marriage, Childhood Friends to Lovers

angsty tones in the beginning. Jimin is such a dear 🥺

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Best of Me @/floralseokjin - Jimin

↳ Best Friend AU, OC just got heartbroken, angst

ugh just angst all over. The ending is hopeful but still sad?

Piece by Piece @underthejoon - Seokjin x Reader x Hoseok ⭐

↳ bestfriend au, fwb au, love triange, a collection of drabbles where your love life is muddied up by two men – the one you love and the one that loves you. Smut, Angst [drabble series]

if you are not into love triangles, I think this will, well not change your mind because some people strongly dislike love triangle themes, but it’ll make the LT themes bearable. The writing is just beautiful and actually I’ve reblogged this for Hobiuary Day (one day I was on Hobi lockdown just reblogging purely favorite Hoseok fics) but I haven’t written a review or reaction yet. Read and explore their relationship dynamics 😭🥰

🌷 so, I don’ recall a Namjoon fic where he’s the one pining (usually it’s the OC).

I had a great time recalling scenes from each fic (and what made the pining so angsty) 🥰. So, please enjoy!

#🌷 chats #anon #bts unrequited love #bts mutual pining #bts fic recs #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts angst #ggukkiereadingcollection #jungkook x reader #yoongi x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook fic recs #taehyung fic recs #yoongi fic recs #jimin fic recs

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yyparkq · 4 years ago

Text

meraki

([may-rah-kee] GREEK

(n.) to do something with your soul. Creativity, or love; to put something of yourself into your work)

word count: 8,706

pairing: jaebeom x reader

a/n: part of got7 alive fest on twitter. you may also view this on ao3! :)

“Can I buy you a drink?” you offered enthusiastically as you slide beside the man who doesn’t pay any attention to the girl on his other side. The woman glared at your boldness and stomped away when her subject instantly tilted his head to your direction. Trying to hide your own thumping heart, you smiled at his incredulous expression.

After living as a hermit for a few years and squeezing all the creative juices out of your brains onto literary masterpieces, you finally decide to venture out again to your old world. When asked for a recommendation, your agent/best friend didn’t miss a beat telling you about the upcoming party being thrown by your common friends in college—an unusual bachelor party and bridal shower in one. Hearing all the possible details from her made it sound twice more interesting and fun. Before you even knew it, you were nodding your head in excitement and confirming your attendance at the upcoming event. The timing was perfect. You had your scheduled flight earlier on the day of the party, so you could go straight there. The thought of finally seeing your college friends after five years excited you, but above all, you were yearning to see one specific person you dearly missed—Lim Jaebeom.

You had been studying his profile—one you’d recognize anywhere—ever since you entered the party. It’s almost as if he never changed except for his seemingly wider shoulders and longer hair. You smiled at the thought of him still being so fond of casually donning the most basic clothes that otherwise fit the occasion. That, and yet he still managed to pull it off and stand out from the rest of the crowd. Like how he’s wearing a crisp white button-down shirt and slacks that looked way too stiff for a guy to wear at a party. His now long hair slightly unkempt and falling on one side of his cheek.

To say he was surprised is a huge understatement. The last thing he could have expected from Mark’s party is the presence of a woman who dropped him like a hot potato without a single word five years ago, now materializing in front of him and striking up a conversation as if it was yesterday. A tinge of betrayal crept into him as he realized his best friend didn’t bother giving him a heads up about your attendance. He could have prepared a more controlled reaction than a pair of wide eyes and mouth agape with astonishment. Pulling himself together, he looked back at you with a more reserved gaze.

Unconsciously, you bit your lip and broke the eye contact, feeling your cheeks warm but thankful for the dimness of the place at the same time. You never expected his gaze to still have the same overwhelming effect on you even after almost a decade of knowing him.

You cut the eye contact and turned your attention to the bartender in front of you instead, requesting for your usual drink to keep from further making a fool of yourself in front of Jaebeom.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to try that phrase at least once,” you laughed after the bartender slides you your glass. “That was bad, wasn’t it?”

Jaebeom clicked his tongue and took a sip from the half-empty glass in his hand. His sheer annoyance was evident in the way he twisted his wrist and set down the glass abruptly on the counter. As if trying to say something, he looked at you and opened his mouth but was cut short when your friend Wheein screamed your name on the top of her lungs and made her way to your seat.

“Mark is looking for you!” she shouted after putting an arm on your shoulders in an attempt to sweep you to the direction where she came from. You rolled your eyes at her and stood firm in your seat, refusing to be dragged by her strong arms. She tilted her head in question before looking over to the guy seated beside you and instantly grasped the situation. “Oh,” she gasped softly when she recognized Jaebeom. “Look for Mark after you’re done here, he’s in one of the tables at the corner, making out with his bride. Seriously, doesn’t this completely defy the very reason for bachelor’s parties and bridal showers?” she added to which you only answer with a sarcastic smile and a nod. She looked back at the guy beside you and winked before disappearing back into the sea of dancing people.

Despite the blaring music at the party, you and Jaebeom sat in complete silence. Neither of you attempted to start an empty conversation. The situation reminded you of one of the hundred things you used to like about being with him—for you, words and silence both held equal meaning. Though, sometimes words can betray someone twice more than a short silence can.

Growing up, you witness your parents spend most of their downtime doing their individual hobbies while still being together at the same time. Your mom solving her crossword puzzles while your dad watches his favorite crime and murder documentaries on cable tv. The comfortable silence between them has always been a pleasant memory and has been an important factor in most of your relationships.

A walking paradox. That’s what you are. For someone who believes in the power of silence, you also find comfort in expressing yourself through words. Your eloquence never dimmed as you grew up. The delicious combination of you being able to speak your heart out and listen attentively to the other party at the same time built a character that everybody around you loved to be with.

As an only child of a wealthy family, you grew up getting all the love and attention you needed from your humble parents. You were a vivacious child who was ready to face everything and chase her own dreams, thanks to your family who would always tell you to go after whatever made you happy. And even if it turned out to be something that wasn’t for you in the end, at least you wouldn’t have to spend the rest of your life wondering how things could have been if only you tried when you had the chance to. So when you first laid your eyes on an unfamiliar guy sitting in one of your elective classes in college, you knew you were in for a long ride.

Jaebeom’s presence always demanded attention no matter which room he was in. When he sat in front of you for the first time in one of your boring classes after spring break, you are quick to notice the curious stares and discreet glances from your own classmates. Recognizing the possibility of the competition being high, you wasted no time trying to get to know him and introduced yourself right after your class ended.

“Ah, the attentive girl,” he said when you followed him to the hallway and made your existence be known to him.

You smiled brightly, glad that your efforts in answering the professor’s questions correctly during class left a good first impression on him. He offered you a small smile, one that hardly reached his eyes but still made your heart flutter for the very first time. You were expecting to learn his name in exchange but instead, he only walked past you.

At the party, Jaebeom briefly glanced at the approaching guy behind you and sighed.

“This is nuts! Y/N, you really are here! I thought Wheein was just fucking around when she said she brought your ass to our party!” Mark exclaimed, wrapping you in an enormous embrace and ruffling your hair in the process. “Where the hell have you been to? We didn’t hear a single word from you since college. Are you married yet?”

Your eyes rolled at his accusing tone and giggled, briefly glancing back at Jaebeom who was also waiting for your response. “I’m not answering that, Tuan.”

Mark slapped the other guy’s back and whispered something in his ear which he responded with a creased forehead and confused eyes back. Mark laughed and turned his attention to you, showing you the way to the bigger table where everyone else from your common circle had gathered. One last look at Jaebeom’s unamused expression and you let the former guy lead your body, unaware of the latter trailing behind you to join the table.

Five long years you spent living away from your family and friends, justifying the need importance of exercising your independence and trying to hone your skills and interests by taking a literary degree overseas. At some point, you did want to pursue a career in writing. It was your childhood dream, after all. But it wasn’t the only reason you endured half a decade away from the closest people of your life and stepped out of your comfort zone. The moment you decided you wanted to start again, you knew the main reason is to run away from the guy who repeatedly broke your heart. And now that you’re back, you are determined to show a different version of yourself to everyone. One that is no longer naive when it comes to love and to life. You’re fairly confident you’re more than ready to play your part in this new beginning.

Some say we don’t get to choose who we love, but you beg to differ. When you’re stubborn and you love to prove people wrong, it doesn’t come as a surprise when you have chosen to give your all to Lim Jaebeom the moment you laid your eyes on him. Chasing someone for years in this time and day should qualify for modern martyrdom. Jaebeom is one tough nut to crack especially when romantic relationships and commitments don’t exist in his world. That much is known to you but you did not give up, relentlessly bugging him every time you got a chance just to be together—even if it meant only hanging out as good friends. You were vocal with your intentions and your actions spoke so much to your words. Guys wanted to be Lim Jaebeom in a way a girl, as deemed perfect as you are, was always by his side supporting him in his endeavors.

All of your friends used to excessively warn you about Jaebeom being a bad idea, but you must have been blinded by your love that you failed to recognize the red flags that practically waved at you before.

How Jaebeom was able to turn you down twice could be considered a mystery unsolved for everyone, even for his own self. There is no doubt about your intelligence, you’re highly responsible and driven, you’re empathetic and humble and the majority loves to be around you. On top of that, your beauty fits the current societal standards that you don’t even have to try hard. Everyone sees no reason for any man to reject you except that you could be close to an epitome of perfection, setting the bar far too high for anyone.

Mark’s table was filled with laughter and yells from your friends when you reached it. Most of his guests were from the wealthiest families who have been specializing in throwing parties since college. Fortunately, the majority of your closest circle of friends managed to group themselves for that night when you joined them. Stories and questions about the time you spent away from everyone else rained on you. How you spent the last five years—stories about your campus life, your travels, the one of a kind experiences you had—were mostly shared that night. Somehow, Jaebeom was thankful for Mark’s presence for he knew he wouldn’t be able to hear so much from you if you were left alone with him.

Jaebeom and Mark took pride in your highly improved alcohol tolerance. Both expected you slurring on your words after a couple of cocktail drinks like you used to in college but there you were, looking as sober as you could as you briefly played poker with the other guests and even after downing innumerable glasses of cocktails and beers in the last four hours at the party.

Somehow you managed to genuinely enjoy the time at the party, playing games, dancing, and laughing with your friends, all the while thinking about the fact that Jaebeom had been talking to a girl he’s involved himself with—the last straw from five years ago. It would have been a lie if you said you never played all the possible scenarios in your head to prepare yourself when you once again meet the two people who have caused you your heartache before.

It took Jaebeom a couple more hours before mustering the courage to actually strike a conversation with you. Just when you were about to call it a night and head back home did he find himself quicker on his heels. All you wanted at that moment was to go home, plop yourself into your bed, and sleep the night away—exhaustion finally dawning into you.

It almost drove him crazy when he realized that you almost left again that night without bidding him goodbye. He hated how you made it look so easy to leave him every time.

You stopped dead in your tracks after hearing Jaebeom shout your name.

He rushed to you and gently reached out for your arm, his cheeks and nose were burning and you’re not sure if it’s because of the liquor or the crisp night air of the nearing autumn season. “Y/N. Let’s talk,” he said.

The corners of your mouth slightly twitched upwards after clearly hearing his voice for the first time that night.

A talk would’ve been a nice idea if your mind was not so clouded with the thoughts and memories with him right now. You already promised yourself to not give in to his ill intentions. You could only hope to make sound and logical judgments for yourself this time especially when he seems to know so well when and how to talk you out to serve his best interest.

You opened your mouth for a second before shaking your head and looking briefly at the ground. “I can’t—I can’t talk, Jae,” you sighed, feeling the night air nip on your bare skin. “Not right now. I’m exhausted. Maybe next time?” you whispered weakly and your forehead creased when you felt a ringing inside your head. Why did you even think a night of partying after a five-hour flight was a good idea?

Jaebeom stared at you for a good minute and noticed your utter discomfort unrelated to his presence “Then just let me drive you home. You look like you’ll pass out any second from now.”

Even after all the years that passed, he’s still able to look right through you and read you like an open book—one that had bothered you the most before and the very reason that kept you from coming back. You knew you wouldn’t be fooling anyone if you said you’re over him, and yet you’re in this situation.

You could have just called Wheein to drop you off your apartment. But your head started getting heavy and the thought of heading back to the party to fetch her didn’t sound like a good idea; you’re certain she wouldn’t be able to check her phone right away if you call her.

As if reading your mind, he proceeded to tug on your arm and guide you to his car. “I’ll tell Mark to send your car tomorrow.”

You muttered a quick thanks and typed your new apartment’s address to his car’s navigation before helplessly falling asleep during the ride.

Jaebeom stared at your face for a while after parking in front of your building. He wanted so much to hold you close to him and feel your body against him again but he knew better than to chase you away for the second time. It had been so long since he saw you this close. And though he spent a number of times visiting you incognito, he couldn’t help but feel a much stronger sense of regret for all the things that he has done to hurt you.

The clicking sound of your seatbelts being unfastened pulled you from the slumber. Jaebeom’s face was inches away from yours and you had to push him away due to shock. The brief nap you had made you feel so much better, your head feeling much lighter.

“Thanks for the ride,” you muttered sheepishly and immediately turned to open your side of the door to get off his car.

He stayed inside his car until he saw you made your way up into the elevator and remained seated in the dark for at least half an hour more before leaving the building.

Maybe hate is not the opposite of love, but indifference. Even in both spectrums, you couldn’t quite put a finger where you stood in your relationship with Lim Jaebeom. He’s like an opaque glass, extremely unpredictable and distant. There might have been times when you thought he’s finally letting his guard down and you inside his invisible shell, but now you’re not sure if or any of those times were even real. Despite being erratic, you stayed by his side, continuously cheering him on with his major life decisions as an unwanted friend and supporter.

It was your last semester break in college—one that didn’t really look like a break since graduation requirements were starting to pile up in addition to your internships and remaining academic classes—when Jaebeom stopped explicitly flirting with girls and started to constantly hang around you. He had a knack of fooling other people to believe he liked them more than he truly did, and you were in no way an exception in one of his schemes then. He made you feel you were important to him, made you think that he actually loved you and you never dared question it for once, finally seeing the end of your own chase.

Your friends thought he was finally coming to his senses and was getting ready to establish a serious relationship with you. Despite your conflicting schedules, every night he’d wait for your shift and classes to end to simply grab dinner together and then drive you back home. Even after he dropped you off, he’d call you’ll talk about the most random things over the phone until you both fell asleep. On his lunch breaks, he’d occasionally text you the lamest jokes he’s learned. His efforts never failed to make you smile.

But his sweet gestures lasted only for almost half a year. Right when you’ve finally garnered the courage to formalize taking your relationship to the next level, he had decided to put a stop to the little game he thought was going on between you. You didn’t mind having to lead the relationship with him at all. Putting a label on your relationship seemed like the last step in accomplishing your goal, considering all your efforts in trying to make him fall in love with you. But the end doesn’t always justify the means. One thing you have learned the hard way. Relationships are supposed to be two-way. Both parties need to practice give and take. And throughout the course of loving Jaebeom, you failed to realize how you’ve excessively poured yourself to him that you almost left little to nothing for yourself.

After finding out that he had slept with one of your closest friends, the only thing you could think of was to run away. Away from everyone even for a short period of time. That was the last straw. If he happened to sleep around before showing you his gentle and caring side and promising you a future with him, you could easily will yourself to not get hurt. But how could he go around sleeping with another girl when he made it clear to you that he wanted you to stay in his life?

Desperate for an escape, you negotiated with your father to buy yourself time to heal and move on. When he gave you his blessing to move across the country and spend some time alone for a couple of years, you took it as an opportunity to run away.

With your love for literature, you decided to pursue a degree related to it. You spent most of your time traveling, looking for inspiration to start your piece. You traveled across countries, visiting the most romantic places on earth alone, casually reminiscing the relationship you had with Jaebeom and thinking of all the other possibilities that could have happened if only you knew better than to chase a guy away. If there was one thing you could be grateful for the most, despite your situation, it’s having a chance to prepare yourself to write your very first book. You’ve always pictured yourself publishing a novel in the science fiction/fantasy category. A couple of unfinished novels sat on your computer since high school, somehow you couldn’t find the will to finish any of them and end each story. Little did you know the first one you will author close to actual completion is inspired by your own encounter with the love of your life. You planned for an open-ended story, wanting to finish the novel but not brave enough to put an absolute end to the story yet.

Finally, it was time for you to keep your end of the bargain with your father. You needed to come back to assume a position in your family business. You thought five years was enough to get over Lim Jaebeom, but then it seemed as if you were always wrong when it comes to him.

Your new office was luxurious. It had an enormous space elegantly decorated with black and gold pieces of furniture and minimalist ornaments. The floor to ceiling glass windows was overlooking the bustling city and gave you a stunning view of the sunset. The secretary assigned to help you with your new role in the company looked a few years younger than you but was always quick to pick things up and anticipate your needs, which is exactly what you need for.

The idea of working with your family members never really pleased you, but you couldn’t go back on your word, not when your father had been constantly at your disposal, attending to most of your whims your whole life. You didn’t want to disappoint him in any way. With your attitude towards work, it had been easy for you to focus on the upcoming big projects you will soon be supervising for the company. You almost became the first and the last person to leave the building sooner than everybody expected. You didn’t mind spending hours of meeting with the board or the investors, presenting the most innovative projects.

A bouquet of flowers, which you paid almost no attention to, sat on the far end of your desk. You were rarely the kind of person who appreciated such notions until you noticed a small note—congratulating you on your first day—before going out of your office to attend a meeting. There was no implication of who the sender was but you already have an idea.

Every single day in the next two weeks, different kinds of flowers greeted you in the office. You had to tell your secretary to get rid of every single one of it after plucking out each note and stashing it in one of your desk drawers. At one point, your secretary asked if you’d rather have the lobby not accept the deliveries to save you both the effort in getting rid of it but you refused, not entirely sure why.

It’s Saturday morning but you decided to go to your office much earlier than you usually do, wanting to go over some reports that had bugged you all night. The sun had barely risen when you arrived, a steaming cup of coffee on your hand. You gripped the hot drink tightly when you noticed Jaebeom’s tall frame inside your office. Sometimes it just makes you question the security of the place, really.

“Ah, I find it easier to get rid of flowers than of a human,” you spat. “What are you doing here?”

Jaebeom turned around to watch your guarded expression as you circled around your desk and settled in your chair. He wondered how come you have changed so much. “You never spoke to me after that night.”

You scoffed. Did he really think you were back in the city to continue chasing a man? “I don’t think there’s anything we need to talk about, Mr. Lim,” you smiled tightly and briefly remembered yourself instigating a talk after Mark’s party. “Besides, you’re not the reason I came back.”

Jaebeom closed the distance between you two. “You’ve changed. A lot.”

You wanted to scream at his face but you knew better than to openly show your feelings around him again. Trying your best to act nonchalant, you tilted your head to the side. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. It’s easier for you to assume that I have because this is not the Y/N you used to mess around with, right?” you said with a smile and stood up, planning to open the door and kick him out of your office. “I really hope you did change too, Beomie.”

It only took Jaebeom a couple of strides to stop you midstep. He turned you to face him and dipped his head slightly, lifting your chin in one swift motion to briefly press his lips on yours. His other hand lightly grazed your cheek. It was a light peck on the lips but it felt and tasted exactly how he did years ago. How you managed to preserve such memories of him surprised you.

You were stunned. Stunned by the fact that he kissed you ever so gently like you were a fragile little thing.

He paused and looked at you and you couldn’t stand another moment so close to him without his lips on yours. Soon, you started returning his kisses until you were both gasping for air. Just like that, the last five years you spent trying to move on from Jaebeom went down the drain.

“I fucking missed you,” he whispered and lightly kissed the sides of your mouth, arms circling around your waist. “So much.”

You tried so hard to not push him away as soon as those words left his mouth. For years you craved hearing it from him but why now? You were ready to go on with your life. Tears started to prick at the corner of your eyes. You never wanted to admit it to yourself but you missed him, too, dearly.

Only when you replied with nothing but a complete silence did Jaebeom stop his ministrations and took a good look at you. The conflict going on in your head evident on your face and he blanched.

“You selfish prick,” you muttered, blinking away the moisture in your eyes. “I don’t want to play your games anymore. I already spent number of years hating myself because of you. Please don’t make me feel that way again.”

Jaebeom pulled you in for a proper hug and shook his head lightly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he cooed. “Let me make this right, please?” he begged. “Let’s have dinner later. I’ll pick you up, okay?” he searched your eyes for approval but you shook your head and peeled yourself away from him.

Fuck dinner.

The moment Jaebeom vanished from your office, you freely let your tears fall. All the walls you’d built around yourself for years came crumbling down all with just a fucking kiss. You let yourself weep for a few more minutes before pulling yourself together again and trying your best to focus on your work. It’s a good thing that all that happened on a Saturday morning when you barely had an employee around to see you on your most vulnerable state. After a few hours, you couldn’t seem to properly do what you intended to do that day so you just brought the papers you’re supposed to review, hoping you could finally take a look with a clear mind by the time you reach your apartment.

It was around 7 P.M. when your doorbell rang. Jaebeom’s face flashed on the little screen of your doorbell intercom. Did he take your response earlier as an approval to take you to a fucking dinner?

There is no way you will be going out with him again. And yet Jaebeom stood silently at the other side of the door for almost two hours. He couldn’t forget how soft you could get for other people—even for a cruel man like himself who didn’t deserve you. And you? How could you forget how stubborn he could be when he wants something?

You dressed in a simple white shirt and pants and put on a light coat before exiting your apartment. Jaebeom’s eyes lit up at the sound of the doors unlocking. He smiled despite you pulling an annoyed expression on him. You briefly argued about bringing your own cars to the diner. Insisting you should share a ride to the restaurant, Jaebeom ended up in your passenger seat.

The dinner went unexpectedly smooth and you appreciated how he tried to make the mood light. You started talking like old friends over dinner, reminiscing some of the most memorable experiences you shared from years ago yet careful to not touch sensitive topics that would otherwise ruin the evening.

The night ended with him insisting to drive back. He knew how you used to hate driving when it was dark due to your bad eyesight back in college. Though you already underwent LASIK surgery and found no problem driving now, somehow the unpleasant memory was still at the back of your mind whenever you got behind the wheel at night so you opted not to protest.

The short drive to your apartment had been filled with comfortable silence except for Jaebeom’s occasional snide remarks directed to other drivers on the road.

It was a spur of the moment decision when you invited him to your home for a cup of tea—something you used to both enjoy after a long day.

You knew very well where this was going but you didn’t care, too tired to worry about things that hadn’t happened yet. Once again you wanted to just yield with fate.

The first night with Jaebeom after five awfully long years was spent snuggling close to each other while watching a movie. The old Jaebeom you knew wouldn’t have stayed for the night unless you begged him to, but now it seemed the tables had completely turned as he practically begged you to allow him to stay with you, promising he’d keep his hands to himself.

“What’s the point of staying here, then?” you teased him.

He blushed at your words and muttered something inaudible before you both settled comfortably under your sheets, the movie playing in the background as you felt each other’s warm body.

Every weekday after work, you would grab dinner together—in restaurants, takeouts, sometimes you alternate making home-cooked meals. Weekends were spent still hanging out together. He’d often invite himself over your house and show up at your doorstep uninvited. Soon he learned your passcode but never really used it to let himself inside until you tried to ignore his calls and refuse to open the door for him.

He was like a piece of gum that’s hard to get rid of and you’d be lying if you said you had no idea what’s coming.

Jaebeom and you both silently came to the conclusion of not wasting time playing stupid games anymore. Five years worth of time had just been wasted and you didn’t have the luxury of time chasing each other around instead of actually making up for the time that you lost.

Your current setup extended for two more months and you were starting to think that your history repeated itself. The situation felt all too familiar—constant hanging out, occasional making out sessions, endless arguments, and banter over the smallest of things. One thing that has changed though is how Jaebeom had become undeniably soft for you each time. He smiled and joked a lot around you and showered you with physical affection more every time he got the chance. At the back of your mind, you were thinking of the possibility of him doing all these little cute things just to get into your pants, but seeing him not even try his hardest to get it on with you makes you doubt yourself for even thinking about it. He could have jumped into bed with you and used your body for all he wanted but he never did, always asking for your consent even for a mere kiss on the lips every time. The way he would pause less than an inch away from your face before kissing you or the way he would hold you loose so you can easily get out of his grasp whenever he held you.

Wheein gave up trying to help you open your eyes and avoid making the same mistakes after the first month you constantly spent with Jaebeom. She knew you too well to try and waste energy to convince you that you were just gonna end up hurting yourself more this time. That and the fact that she hadn’t seen you this euphoric for the longest time. All she can do now was hope that your man was not stupid enough to let you go again.

The last two months had gone so smoothly. And you know sooner or later you would have to actually talk like real adults in a relationship. So far, Jaebeom still hadn’t made any move in identifying what kind of relationship you were having and you were afraid that you would fall more deeply in love with a guy who hadn’t changed one bit for you.

The following weekend, Jaebeom invited you over to his place. He entered an expensive neighborhood on the outskirts of town and pulled up to an elegant-looking residence. It had stunning glass walls and warm lights that illuminated the vicinity of the house.

You bit back your tongue to stop yourself from asking incredulous questions. You wanted so bad to ask him if he’s married. There’s no way he’s living in that house alone and without a family.

He opened your door and led you inside the house. It smelled so much of fresh sandalwood like his old apartment. You looked around the house and smiled at the grand piano that sat in the living room. You’d always pictured your kids with him taking after his musical talents.

You flinched when Jaebeom hugged you from behind. Instantly blushing at your own playful thoughts of building a family with him.

He chuckled and lightly took your hand, entwining your fingers together before grazing his lips against it. “Are you thinking about it?”

Your brows knit together. “About what?”

“The piano at your parents’ house?” he smiled. “We almost did it.”

Your eyes shut at the memory of making out with Jaebeom at one of the parties your cousin threw in your house. That was the first time you kissed Jaebeom and since then you never had enough of him. You took a deep breath and tried to focus on your agenda for tonight. You had to make sure you cleared things up between you two before cruising towards yet another possible road to heartbreak.

Sighing, you turned around and marched away from him but stopped when you saw the dinner he had prepared. He led you to the table and pulled out a chair for you. Your heart is throbbing so loud, you were worried he might be able to hear it.

“Jae—”

Before you could even begin, he shushed you. “I know what you’re trying to say. We can talk about it later. Let’s eat first. Please?”

Did he know, really? Maybe he did but he just didn’t care. It’s not that impossible. Maybe he did not change at all. He was still the selfish bastard who only knew how to take from you and never gave even the smallest piece of himself in return.

You couldn’t stand to let the questions live in your mind rent-free. It should be now or never. If he were to say he didn’t want a relationship, then so be it. You weren’t looking for another reason to cry, you’ve had enough of that. I’m ready, you told yourself inside your head. Ready to face the worst again tonight.

“No. We have to talk about this now. Otherwise, we’ll go around in circles again. And I’m tired, Jaebeom.” It took you a great amount of willpower to display a straight face in front of him. “I don’t want to be with you anymore. The last few months have been great but that’s it. That’s all we could ever be. I don’t want to go any further.”

You’re a terrible liar.

“You say I’m selfish. And I know very well the game you are playing.” He reached for your hands but you stepped away. “But you can’t win, Y/N,” he said, confident in his own words. “Because you already want me. And you don’t stop chasing what you want until you get your hands on it.”

Maybe he was right. You were terrified thinking he did not change after all these years and yet you never realized you took little to no step in changing yourself when it came to him.

You shook your head, tears attempting to escape the corner of your eyes.

“I don’t want to be hurt again,” your voice trembled. “Every second I spend with you, I’m on my toes. Ready to protect myself from being hurt again. But—but right now, I want to make an exception. I will let myself be hurt again if it means I will finally be able to completely let you go.

“Please tell me you never really loved me. I might have been in love but I wasn’t that stupid. I swear we were almost there. I believed it. I believed every time. And yet you made it look so easy to turn your back at me. For years I have questioned my worth to be treated like that. Was I not enough?”

Jaebeom’s cheeks flushed. His eyes are burning.

“I wasn’t ready for you to leave me then!” he shouted as he walked away from you and collapsed onto the couch, his hands roughly brushing his face in an attempt to clear his thoughts. “Everyone I love does,” a short silence and then he got up again. “I didn’t want you to leave me then or now,” he whispered quietly.

You laughed and stood in front of him. “So you slept around after telling me you want me to stay in your life? You thought that would make me stay?”

“I never slept with anyone then.”

If not for the sincere gaze he held with you, you’d definitely think he’s lying. But Jaebeom rarely lied. He’s a cold-hearted asshole who hurt people with the truth, no matter how hard it was.

“Then why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“At first I thought you got tired of me because I finally confessed to you. I thought you were done and that you were ready to leave me. I talked to your parents—”

“You talked to my parents?”

He nodded. “They told me you were moving across the country to get away from me. How could I stop you when your father almost wanted to kill me when he told me how you cried every night thinking your parents didn’t hear you?”

Jaebeom quietly stood up and faced you. He cupped your face and muttered “I’m sorry” repeatedly, kissing your tears as they continued to stream down your cheeks. “I love you so damn much. I will never forgive myself if I lose you again. Please trust me again. For the last time?”

He pulled you with him and settled back down to the couch. You stayed in his arms silently for the rest of the night.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of your phone ringing. Your swollen eyes hurt the moment you tried to look for the loud device. How you ended up in one of the beds in an unfamiliar house after a night of crying is a question easily thrown out the window.

An arm tightened around your waist when you attempted to get up. You whipped your head at the man beside you. He was sporting a deep frown beneath his long strands that partially covered his face. His wide shoulders on full display as he slept shirtless.

Your heart thumped loudly at the sight of Lim Jaebeom’s face so early in the morning. You wanted to kiss him. But you still owed yourself time to think through everything before jumping on your feelings again, aiming for a sound and logical justification of your next actions hoping to save yourself from any regrets in the near future.

You asked for space. A clear space to do your thinking and evaluation of your current status with Jaebeom. He promised to give it to you but with a condition—he will get to talk to you even on the phone every morning. The hell was this man actually thinking? How were you supposed to do your thinking when he’s continuously trying to fill your system with himself? Knowing he wouldn’t back down from any argument, you never objected but never promised anything either.

Every morning, a husky voice greeted you on the other line. This continued for a week and a half until he can no longer bear not seeing you in flesh.

“Come on, we already let five years pass. That’s more than enough time of suffering for me, baby,” he told you when he barged in your office carrying a baked salmon takeout for lunch. He knew that kind of food will work its magic on you. And sure, it did. When he was available during lunch, he’d come by your office to grab a meal with you. He’d also wait for you to finish your work to drive you back home. A lot of times you had to ask your secretary to take your car home.

You wanted to take all the time that you needed to establish your relationship with him. But when your friend Wheein played cupid for the both of you and hoisted an incredibly hot guy as your suitor to serve as ‘threat’, Jaebeom wasted no second in claiming you as his girlfriend, despite the fact that you both have been definitely acting like one already. “Seriously, Y/N? Do you ever learn? You need the commitment to make this shit work! Let me do the work for you.” Wheein scolded you when you told him you’re not yet in a conventional “official relationship”.

Mark’s wedding came. The ceremony had been elegant and extremely intimate. A slight contradiction to his past relationship with his now-wife.

Throughout the ceremony, Jaebeom stared at you from the altar. He watched as your eyes shone with tears when the bride walked the aisle and the couple shared their handwritten vows. He watched as you tried to look away when he was caught intently staring at you from across the church, trying to shy away from the evident desire to be in the same shoes as the bride.

If he could, he would have given you the world. He was ready to give you anything you asked for just for you to be happy. Marriage, he thought, is something that never really crossed his mind until you came back. Considering all the shit he put you through, he wouldn’t be surprised if you turn him down at least once. Maybe he deserves it but he will never give up on you again.

Thoughts cloud his mind but Jaebeom managed to keep his hands on you the whole course of the afterparty when he wasn’t aiding the groom. You didn’t mind, noticing the clouded expression plastered on his face. He didn’t have any liquor so he should be just tired, you assume.

That night, you decided to sleep over at his apartment. Wanting to save your boyfriend some extra time from driving back and forth from your house to his. Plus, his building was relatively closer to the reception compared to yours. Fortunately, Jaebeom lit up at your decision, excited to spend another weekend with you.

As soon as the door to his apartment closed, his lips found yours. It took you a second before returning his frantic kisses, your head lightly bumping into the wooden door as he pressed his own body against yours. He kissed you as if his life depended on it. His hands skimmed your curves and bunched up a fistful of your gown to caress your thigh.

Desperately gasping for air, you pushed him. Jaebeom must have noticed your legs almost turning into a jelly so he hoisted your hips upward, your legs automatically straddling his as he walked into the bedroom while supporting your body with a hand on your ass.

The way he gently placed you on the bed almost shocked you, like you were somewhat made of glass that could be broken with the slightest pressure. He propped himself on one elbow and stared at your eyes. You can tell something’s bothering him.

“A penny for your thoughts?” you whispered as you lightly touched his face, worried.

He shook his head and nuzzled your head instead of answering. Silently, he continued to stroke your sides and thigh lightly.

You didn’t want to force him to tell you what was bothering him, so you exerted an effort to flip your positions, determined to help your boyfriend relax.

Straddling his waist, you perched on top of him and started kissing him passionately. Slowly, you undid each button of his shirt.

He moved to help you discard his shirt and then reached around you to unzip your dress. He pulled the garment over your head and threw it on the floor. Now you’re completely bare in front of him, except for your underwear.

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispered on your lips before kissing you again. The way you ground your hips on his crotch driving him mad.

You stopped him when he attempted to go south, remembering your desire to help him ease the tension.

Jaebeom looked at you with confusion when you captured both his wrists and pinned them on either side of him.

“Let me take care of you,” you said, kissing the corner of his lips. The look on his eyes was replaced with amusement. You took your time concentrating on his upper body first, alternately kissing and sucking on his neck down to his abs while your hands massaged his member through his pants.

Jaebeom bit his lip. The mere sight of you naked and working on his jeans, barely even touching him, is enough to make his cock twitch in his pants. Each second you spent teasing him by slowing your movements was pure torture.

He immediately lifted his hips to help you pull his pants enough to free his cock.

Your hands instantly held the swollen tip and spread the precum around his head. You barely even touched him and the fact that he was hard as a rock for you sent delicious heat to your core. Your hands went up and down his shaft a few times, applying just the right pressure you came to learn lately with him.

Jaebeom had his eyes closed, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, trying his best not to moan.

Seeing Jaebeom unravel under your touch had become your addiction.

Your mouth soon replaced the greater portion where your hands used to touch a second earlier. And that was all it took for Jaebeom to finally moan loud, followed by a string of curses as his hips uncontrollably jerked at the warm feeling of your mouth. His hands found purchase on your hair. His moans motivated you to take him deeper down your throat in each thrust until you were almost gagging, eyes moist with tears.

He tried to keep himself from thrusting hard on your mouth when he noticed a tear escape your eye. “Shit. Baby, are you okay?”

You lightly shook your head and continued bobbing your head up and down his shaft until you could feel his cock twitch uncontrollably inside your mouth, signaling his release.

Jaebeom immediately pulled out and laid you on the bed, kissing you hard. He moved your panties to one side, dipping a finger to test your wetness. His other hand fondled your breast, twisting and pinching your nipples. You moaned to the kiss and arched your back, his ministrations throwing all of your senses into overdrive.

He peeled the last piece of clothing off of you and licked a strip between your folds before working his wet muscle inside your walls. You screamed and almost crushed his skull between your legs if not for his arms that massaged your mounds.

“Beom-ah,” you panted.

Jaebeom hummed in return, the vibrations causing your opening to clench around his tongue. He used his fingers to open you up and suck on your clit then proceeded to thrust fingers into your core.

You shook uncontrollably as the orgasm hit you and Jaebeom didn’t cease his fingers’ movements. He got back up and kissed your lips again. Aligning the tip of his cock to your opening.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you so fucking much. You drive me crazy.” he panted as he sheathed himself inside of you.

You wanted to say it back but your body was aching. After all the sex with your boyfriend, your core still doesn’t seem to have adjusted to his girth.

Jaebeom waited a few minutes before moving his hips, letting you adjust around him. He peppered kisses on your face and behind your ear. “Still so fucking tight.”

“I love you too, Lim Jaebeom,” you whispered and moved your hips after adjusting.

Jaebeom started thrusting, slow but hard. All the while he was intently looking at your face, contorted with pleasure. He kept saying he loves you and you kept ignoring it, unable to make out words in your current position.

“Y/N shit,” he breathed. “I love you so much. Please marry me and have kids with me.”

You opened your eyes to see the sincerity in his eyes. Fuck, he meant it.

“What?”

Jaebeom slowed down his thrusts even if it hurt. “I love you so much. Please marry me, Y/N.”

Tears pricked the corner of your eyes at the sudden marriage proposal. Never in your whole life had you imagined someone proposing marriage in the middle of the sex. If it wasn’t Jaebeom, you would have laughed. But it was him asking you. The guy you loved the most in your life. And even if he turned out to be just joking, you very well knew that there was a part of yourself wishing he actually meant it.

“Are you serious?”

“I’d do it the normal way some other time, baby. But I’ve said what I’ve been thinking about lately.” He tucked some loose hair behind your ear as he looked down at you. “I want to be yours forever. If you’d let me, I would marry you in every place you like.”

The cock twitched inside of you twitched as if urging you for affirmation.

Jaebeom searched your eyes for an answer. Only when you nodded and muttered a barely audible ‘yes’ did he continued to move in and out of you.

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thegalleonsnest · 4 years ago

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Wiggle’s Muse - Short Excerpt turned into a FanFic

Yo, so, I wanted to share a small snippet of a future project I’m working on (while also delaying my current art projects). What I’ve written out here in this post was originally in a format not meant for professional writing purposes, but I said “eh, why the hell not,” and written it out in sort of a short fanfic format for you guys to read. This project btw, is not a fanfic (had to make that clear). What I am working on is a very large scale project for myself and is still in the blocking out/rough draft phases. This right here is probably my most fleshed out scene I’ve written out, and feels pretty complete as it’s own thing. Honestly, I’d appreciate the feedback if any of ya’ll found this interesting!

Also I’m putting this in a tumblr post because I don’t have an AO3 or fanfiction account, and this is already too short for it anyway. Read the excerpt below

In front of the camera lenses, multiple grumpuses walk back and forth discussing a matter of topics but most importantly, where was Wiggle?

"Has anyone gotten ahold of Wiggle yet? She was supposed to be here hours ago,” a gruff voice coming from out of frame says. “We’ve tried calling her for over an hour, but we got nothing,” says another off camera, “do you think we should reschedule-” before they could finish, the studio doors bust open with a loud thud echoing the studio room. A tall, short armed grumpus with a boa stumbles along the room carrying an oddly shaped banjo.

“There she is,” said the gruff voiced grump, “Wiggle, whatever you got going on, you better do it now cause we got a meeting with investors in half an hour!” From the blurry view of a slightly out of frame Wiggle, she barely registered what the grump said. In a stumble, she walks to the center of the camera’s view & shakes her head, almost slurring her words, “Doooon’t worry, Darling, we’ll get you a new vest later.” “What, no, wait, that’s not what I-” before another word could be said, Wiggle readies her banjo and strikes a quick pose before strumming the strings like her life depended on it.

It didn’t take longer than a few seconds before the crew sprung into action, setting the proper lightning, mics and cameras around her. Her rhythm and measures became a lot more stable, catchy even, and then she broke into song. The next set of lyrics would become an instant, regrettable classic.

It’s not long before the VHS tape stutters and stops, showing mostly static. A magenta furred Grumpus with some hair covering a part of eye, hits the eject button, takes out the tape and turns off the tv. “Girl, you were a right mess there!” She said with a giggle. “Tell me about it, Vrittany...” Wiggle said frustratingly, pinching the bridge of her nose. “And you’re telling me you can’t come up with anything better than that? Come on now!” “I wish I was lying, but I’m not. No matter what I come up with, nothing is topping whatever the heck my walking coma came up with instead!” Wiggle grabs her mug of coffee and takes a longing sip.

The two sit across from one another at the coffee bar. The aroma of that day’s set of cocoa beans waft through the cafe as most of the outside lamps fill out the darker spots inside. The place is nearly empty besides them, and a single muted green furred occupant sitting at a booth at the opposite end of the cafe, drawing away in his sketchpad.

“So, whatcha gonna do?” Vrittany asked sarcastically, “Stay awake for another week? Get inspired again? Hehe.” Wiggle sets her mug down, and answers, “I did try that again, but in style I fell asleep comfortably on a couch in the lobby”. Vrittany looked a bit stunned. “You’re kidding?! You’re crazy!” “Not crazy, Vrittany,” she takes another sip of her coffee before striking a pose in her high stool seat, bellowing out her voice. “Just creatiiiivly driveeeen~” “Whatever you say, darling,” Vrittany says before turning around to her bar’s sink. She cleans several mugs and glasses with gusto while preparing one last pot of coffee, enough for a single cup for later.

Vrittany takes off her apron and hangs it on the wayside of the counter as she walks around to take a seat next to Wiggle. After situating herself, she puts a paw on Wiggle’s shoulder. “Listen, pretty sure this is just a rut you’re stuck in right now,” she says. “Doesn’t every artist go through that every now and then?” Wiggle turns her head toward Vrittany, “Well..yeah, but this is different,” she desperately says. “I can’t let a song I made in my sleep be the best thing I’ve ever made! I know I can make something that’ll shake the world more than whatever ‘Do The Wiggle’ was.”

Vrittany pulls back her paw from Wiggle to put on her best thinking cap. As deeply in thought as she was, her face immediately relaxes into a deadpan expression, “Have ya tried singing from the heart?” Wiggle cracks a smile, “HA, if only that’s how it works! It takes a musical genius to write a hit song in show biz, not just some field day with my feelings.” “Eh, worth a shot. Got any other plans?” “I’m still trying to figure that out. I need some kind of inspiration...almost like a-”

Before she could finish her thought, they both caught a glance at the muted green furred grump who walked up to them. He mustered up the words and said, “E-excuse me, you’re Miss Wiggle, right?” Wiggle turned in her seat to get a better look at the young Grumpus. She could tell he was nervous, clutching his sketchbook in his arms rather tightly. She quickly put on a more relaxed front to help calm things down, while also still showing off a bit of her excited side. “Why yes I am, Darling,” she said enthusiastically. “And I can tell you must be a fan of mine.” “Y-yeah...!” The green grump looked a little more relaxed, but still stiff in the shoulders. “Hey now, no need to be so nervous. I always got time for my fans.” “Thank you, Miss Wiggle. Um…” “No need to finish that thought, Darling, I know what you’re about to ask and I’m happy to oblige!”

Before the young man could stop to say something, Wiggle pulls out one of her many professional hand out photos that she has, and quickly signs with her autograph before handing it to him. “O-Oh, thank you, Miss, but that’s not what I was going to s-say.” he sheepishly says. “Really? Not an autograph,” Wiggle says surprisingly. “It’s usually the first thing fans ask of me.” “Sorry, I just...I wanted to show you this sketch I made…”

The nervous grumpus slowly turns his sketchbook around to reveal a fully sketched art piece depicting a stylized Wiggle singing her heart out at the bar with Vrittany hanging out in the background cheering her on. He hands it to Wiggle to give them a closer look. It was still somewhat messy, showing a few guidelines and early roughed out shapes, but for what it was, it was still impressive to the two girls.

“Woah, that’s pretty rad!” Vrittany yelled out, leaning out from her seat trying to get a closer look. Wiggle was pretty stun, gasping at the sight of such a piece of artwork. “Darling, you drew this?! Just now,” Wiggle asked in awe. “Yeah! I was listening to some of your music and then you came in and sat down. It made me wanna draw you as fast as I could,” the green grumps says excitedly before rubbing the back of his head. “Sorry if it’s still a little messy looking though…” “Don’t be, because it is beeeaautifuuul~” “T-thank you so much, Miss Wiggle! T-that means a lot to m-me!” the grumpus says while his face lights up red from the praise. “You’re like an inspiration to me.” “Really now? Like a muse? All I do is sing the night away, Darling. You draw little masterpieces like this from me?”

As Wiggle continues to be enthralled by the young man and his work, Vrittany notices the coffee pot had finished brewing. She gets up from her seat and go back behind the counter to finish her last cup for the night. Wiggle and the green grump continue their conversation.

“W-well kind of,” says the grump, “it’s a bunch of music that inspires me when I draw. A lot of your stuff is so upbeat and fun, it gives me lots of different ideas to pump out!” Wiggle looks back, almost flabbergasted. “I’m...honestly a bit stunned that I had that kind of impact on you, Darling,” she says, almost with a melancholy tone, “...heh, kind of forget sometimes I do make some kind of impression on grumps like you.” She looks back down at the sketchbook, entranced by the creativity that sparked in the moment. That dazzling moment where it all clicked...where could she find that, when someone else can find it in her?

After an awkward minute of silence, the young grump spoke up and said, “If you like, you can keep the sketch page, Miss Wiggle?” Wiggle snapped her head back up from the sketchbook to the green fuzzball. “W-wait really? Are you sure you wanna give up this piece of art?” said Wiggle worryingly. “It’s no problem at all,” said the green grump proudly. “I already took a picture of it to save for later. I’m gonna make a painted version of it online later! Besides, it’ll make me happy if you kept it, since I was going to give it to you anyway.” “Oh Darling, you’re nothing more than a sweet one now, aren’t you? I’ll gladly keep it!” “Thank you so much, Miss Wiggle!”

Wiggle hands the sketchbook back to the green grumpus and he tears out the sketch. “No, Darling, thank you,” Wiggle says ecstatically. Vrittany returns from behind the bar with a to-go cup in hand, saying “Here’s your order, kid.” “Oh, thank you, Vrittany. How much was it again,” the green grump asked. “Eh, don’t worry about it. Don’t feel like counting change. It’s on the house.” “O-oh you sure?” “You wanna change my mind?” “Don’t think I can, so thank you!” The green grump turns back to Wiggle and says “It was so nice meeting you in person, Miss Wiggle!”

“The pleasure is all mine, Dar-,” Wiggle catches herself before she realizes something. “Actually, what was your name?” “It’s Grite, Grite Tillsland!” Wiggle lets a genuine soft smile grow on her face. She felt a lot more at ease and happier knowing her new friend was much more relax and happy overall. She reached out her paw for a handshake, and Grite reciprocated.

“The pleasure’s mine, Grite, Darling.”

#Bugsnax #Wiggle Wigglebottom #TheGalleonsNest Writing #Fic #wip excerpt #Bugsnax Fanfic #Hope you guys enjoy a taste of what's to come #even when there's very little context #I've got multiple large scale projects lined up #this is just one of them #I hope to officially start it this year #but there is still a lot of backend work to be done #and also I got tons of art to make too before then

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littleoddwriter · 4 years ago

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Embarrassment | Roman Sionis x Victor Zsasz | ZsaszMask | Smut

"if requests are open can i just get zsasz being really dumb but with some praise and/or daddy kink thrown in?" anon

A/N: I hope my interpretation of this is alright with you. I went with ZsaszMask here, since you didn't specify who Zsasz would be with; and since he wasn't exactly listed as a character for Reader fics, I assumed you were just asking for ZsaszMask. I really hope I got that right. If not, let me know, please!

summary; Victor commonly mispronounces words, the wrong person hears it and mocks him for it to Roman’s face. Roman gives his boy a treat and then praises him because, yes, he isn’t very skilled when speaking, but he is still such a good boy for him! With it, smut ensues.

notes; TW // Implied Murder (non-descriptive); Very quick, throw-away mention of Child Abuse in the first paragraph. KINKS: Daddy!Kink; Praise Kink; Slight pet play, too; Anal Sex; Quick Prep. PWP/Loose plot; Lemon; Smut; kind of Emotional Hurt/Comfort, too, but like, they are ZsaszMask, don’t expect too much; A little softness in the end, too.

Roman absolutely hated it when someone mispronounced words in any way, shape or form. It made his blood boil. Mostly, he believed, it was because of his parents. If he had said something wrong, even if it was just the pronunciation, then he would be punished. Obviously, he tried to avoid that at all costs as time went on, which made him hyper-aware of when other people butchered a word or even an entire sentence, as a side effect.

Unfortunately, his partner in crime and lapdog had a rather slurred way of speaking and mispronounced a lot of words. He still wasn't sure if he was just stupid and wasn't educated, or perhaps he really was just lazy as all hell.

Either way, it happened multiple times a day that Zsasz would say something wrong. Roman has stopped being truly annoyed with him for it after a while. By now, he just corrected him and moved on. Of course, he had tried to teach Victor, but he just didn't really catch on to it; and frankly, he had better things to do than teach a grown man to speak properly.

Now, usually it wasn't even a big problem anyway, since Roman was basically the only person Zsasz really spoke to. So no one normally witnessed Victor's poor speaking skills. If anything, they were his staff anyway, so it didn't matter, they wouldn't dare say something about it.

Until, of course, one day the wrong person had heard it after all.

Roman had been conversing with a potential business partner, when Victor came back from running an errand for him. It was like clockwork; when Roman was talking, he wasn't to be interrupted, so he waited until he was done to tell him anything important that might have happened on the errand. He only ever interrupted him when it absolutely couldn't wait.

Obediently, Zsasz stood next to Roman and waited. When he was done talking, he lifted his hand and excused himself to the man he was speaking with, so Victor could tell him whatever was burning on his tongue.

"Boss, Johnson's guys have defiantly got the message. Expecially himself. He's retreating now and trying to get on your better side again, but I doupt you want that. D'you?"

Roman didn't even bother to correct him, though he clenched his fists to try and stop the urge to do it anyway. They were in public with someone he didn't trust and he didn't want to humiliate Victor like that. He knew that he tried at least a little, after all. Especially when they were with someone he didn't know.

Before Sionis could even reply anything, a terribly mocking cackle sounded from his right. It was that fuck he had been trying to get a deal with.

"Is he really that fucking stupid or does he just act like it, huh? God, that's embarrassing. I can't believe you let him run around talking like that, Mr Sionis," he sneered.

For just a split second hurt was reflected in Victor's eyes. It was like a punch to Roman's gut. Zsasz was basically never hurt by anything or anyone, only few people, among which was Roman himself, could achieve that.

Zsasz straightened up and acted like he didn't hear anything, assuming his usual position behind where Roman sat, so he could watch over him.

"Well, I believe that business deal we had planning to get going is over now. Thank you so much for coming in, but it's time for you to leave, 'kay?" Roman said clasping his hands together and a big fake grin on his face, his tone strained.

The other man sputtered. "Excuse me? We were just in the middle of-"

"Yes, yes, I am aware. Anyway, I do not want to keep talking to you any longer. So get out!" His anger became more palpable by the second.

Some of his men escorted the fake fuck out, after he whispered to one of them to knock him out and bring him to their closest warehouse.

Then Roman turned around to face Victor, who looked rather dumb-founded.

"Boss?"

"C'mon, baby. I'm having him brought to the closest warehouse we own. Then you can go and have some fun with that stupid fuck, hm? How's that sound, my boy?"

His eyebrows climbing up his forehead in surprise, Victor nodded. Obviously, he knew that this deal was actually a little important to Roman, but nothing seemed to be more important than his pet being happy.

Sometimes, he really despised that.

They went to the warehouse, when it was all set up and he gave Victor all the freedom he could have wanted with the other man. It was beautiful, a sight to behold, really. The way Victor freed people from this awful world was always breathtakingly stunning to him. But when he was also upset by one of those people and had creative freedom? Just marvelous, a true masterpiece that came out of it. Such as the tally, that now sat in the crook of his elbow, always visible, always a reminder.

Eventually, they arrived back at home, aroused from the beautiful way this fake fuck has been slaughtered, and Roman also had the urge to indulge his little boy and praise him for always being so good for him. So he was set on doing just that.

As soon as they came into the bedroom, he grabbed Victor's wrist and turned him around to face him, smashing their lips together in a searing kiss. Zsasz moaned into it, opening his mouth a little. Roman slid his tongue into the other's mouth immediately, fucking it in and out of Victor's mouth, playing with his tongue.

After doing just that for about a minute, he broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against Victor's, panting.

"Be a good boy for Daddy and undress yourself and then lie down on the bed, 'kay?" Roman rasped, kissing Zsasz once more before twirling his finger to signalise him to get going.

Sionis kept watching his boy, while he undressed, folding his clothes and putting them on a nearby chair. He had taught him so well. When he was completely naked, Victor lied down on his back on the soft mattress of their bed. Then he looked at Roman, waiting for further instructions.

Getting rid of his shoes, socks, blazer and gloves, Roman climbed onto the bed and over Zsasz. He was only wearing a plain black shirt and his dark blue suit pants, now. He lifted Victor's legs, spreading them, and kneeled between them, situating them over each of his thighs, pressing his hard cock against the other man's ass. Then he leaned over Zsasz, bracketing his head between his forearms with which he supported himself on the bed. Their faces were merely half an inch apart, breathing each other's air.

"You're my good little boy, aren't you?"

Victor could only nod for a moment. Roman nipped his ear and grinned against it, his lips brushing his ear shell.

"Yes, you are. And you know what? I'm very proud of you, baby. You're always so good to me, always so good for Daddy, hm?"

Zsasz keened in the back of his throat, pushing up his hips. Fuck, he was so easily desperate when it came to being praised by Roman.

"Soon, baby. Be patient, 'kay?" Another nod, another keen. "Use your words, baby, c'mon."

"Yes, Daddy!"

"That's my good boy," he murmured.

Then he leaned back a little again, so he was able to really look at Victor. It was hell on his back, but he didn't care, as their chests and stomachs were pressed together, feeling each other breathe heavily. Victor's hard cock was poking his abdomen, just like his own was pressing against his crack.

"You've done something truly remarkable with this asshole, y'know? What a work of art! Oh, Victor, I'm so lucky, baby."

"Thank you, Daddy," Victor replied the way he was taught to, and fuck, it had Roman's cock twitch.

Roman smiled at him, fondly, adoration clear in his eyes. "I always appreciate how dutiful you are, how you know exactly when to do what, when to speak, what to say. You're so good at it, my boy. Such an obedient little doggy, aren't you? Yes, you are, of course you are."

He leaned down to press a couple of sweet kisses to his lips, smiling into them. Victor gripped onto his bicep and back, trying to keep him as close as possible, unable to not touch him.

"Didn't I disappoint you, though?" Zsasz asked, looking so unsure and like a kicked puppy.

"No, no of course not. Oh, baby, my sweet boy, never you. He was a stupid fake fucking fuck, 'kay? He didn't know you, didn't know to respect me and my assets. And now he's paid for it, hasn't he? Then you mispronounced some fucking words! Now what? He had no fucking reason to talk about you like that, especially not to me. Fuck, I wish we could kill him again, baby. The fucking audacity of this fucker!"

"But I embarrassed you."

"No, you haven't. The only embarrassment there was this fuck thinking he was being funny and saying something of value. Like I said, baby, you're so good for Daddy. Always."

He kissed him again, and again, and again. Then he finally got rid of his pants, underwear and shirt, before diving back in and devouring Victor's mouth with fervor. While he was doing that, he was blindly retrieving the lube from the bedside table and clicking it open, squirting some onto his fingers.

Roman shifted a little, so he could reach down and insert one lubed up finger into Victor's behind, making him moan into the kiss with it. He moved it in and out quickly, stretching him enough to insert a second finger, sicossoring them to stretch his rim for a third finger. It was a quick preparation, as Victor was used to it, but also really liked it when it burned, so they made sure to stretch him enough to not damage him or Roman, and then they were ready to go.

Sionis grabbed the lube once more and spread it on his hard cock, slicking it up thoroughly. Then he guided it into Victor's stretched hole, pressing in slowly but surely. When he was fully sheathed inside of him, they both moaned in unison into their still connected mouths.

Then Roman started thrusting inside of Victor, pulling out and shoving back in, in a quick, brutal rhythm that drove them both crazy.

"Such a good boy. Oh, baby, you're so good for me, look at you. Taking it so fucking well, hm? Ah, fuck! Yes, so tight even after I've been fucking you almost every day for the past decade, huh? Fuckfuckfuck, you're so good, such a wonderful little boy. Just for me, aren't you? You're only my good boy, aren't you? Say it!"

Victor's eyes rolled back, as Roman repeatedly hit his prostate, but he still tried to get out a sentence in-between desperate little moans, "Y-yes, ah, yes! Only yours. Your good boy. Ah, yours! Daddy!"

"Fuck, shit, Victor, ah, I'm gonna come. Oh, baby, I'm gonna fill you up so good, huh? Because my baby deserves the best, hm? Fuck!"

As his thrusts became increasingly erratic, Roman grabbed Victor's cock in his hand and jacked him off in quick movements and a tight grip, making him paint his own chest and stomach after just half a minute. Zsasz moaned loudly and completely unintelligible as he came.

Roman followed him soon after, pressing inside of his partner and staying there, filling him up with his warm, sticky come, moaning and groaning loudly and almost like a porn star.

After a few seconds, in which either of them caught their breaths, Roman pulled out and collapsed next to Victor, their legs tangled, their faces an inch apart and panting.

When they've come down from their orgasmic highs, Roman stroked over Victor's chest, smearing his come over it and rubbing it into his skin, smiling. The scars made it a unique and pleasant sensation to him.

"Don't let that fucker get to you, 'kay? You aren't embarrassing. I don't care that you butcher most words that come out of your mouth. It doesn't make you less of a good little boy for me, alright?"

"Okay, yeah. Thank you," Victor rasped, pressing a kiss to the other's lips.

It was all so fucking soft.

Under different circumstances, it would make Roman feel sick; but even he had a soft spot, which apparently only consisted of this human lapdog called Victor Zsasz.

#tw daddy kink #tw implied murder #tw mention of child abuse #child abuse mention tw #tw kink #roman sionis #victor zsasz #zsaszmask #lemon fic #birds of prey #harley quinn birds of prey #birds of prey and the fantabulous emancipation of one harley quinn #ewan mcgregor #chris messina #roman sionis fanfiction #victor zsasz fanfiction #zsaszmask fanfiction

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breadknight-likes-things · 4 years ago

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Bread’s Game Journal 11/09/20: A Disastrous Start But A Strong Finish, My Romantic Relationships, Or The PS3?

A lot of what people remember about the PS3 pertains to it’s extremely unfortunate beginnings. Immediately marred by some awful creative and technical choices, the PS3 got off to an extremely rocky start, and rapidly lost ground to its competitors, the Xbox 360 and Nintendo Wii. A lot of this came out of extreme arrogance on Sony’s part, from the infamous “Five Hundred And Ninety Nine U.S Dollars” price point, to the Sixaxis controller desperately trying to copy the Wii while chucking out much beloved features like rumble feedback. The PS3 very well could have crashed and burned so bad that Sony as a video game maker could have never recovered.

But here’s the thing, it didn’t. Yes, it did crash, hard in fact, it was doing very poorly and a lot of it’s big exclusive games simply weren’t good enough to justify the thing’s price, but that didn’t last forever. Eventually, Sony pulled through in a big way with it’s first party games, giving us now modern classics like Uncharted 2: Among Thieves, Ratchet and Clank: A Crack In time, and God of War 3. To be truthful, however, I wasn’t there for the disastrous half of that ride.

I think about Uncharted 2′s train level twice a day.

When I had to make my choice between the 7th gen console I wanted to get, I made the call to get an Xbox 360. There were a few reasons for this, games like The Elder Scrolls Oblivion and Halo 3 being some of the biggest ones, but at the time even A huge Sony fanboy like me could only look at the PS3 and see an unaffordable behemoth that didn’t have nearly as many cool looking new games as were releasing on the Xbox 360. However, around the time the PS3 came out, I was about 14 years old, so it wouldn’t be all that long before I started getting summer jobs. When that happened, and I suddenly had disposable income, a Playstation 3 was one of the very first things that I bought. As I mentioned briefly above, by that time the PS3 had managed to largely turn itself around in a big way. The “Slim” model of the console had come out, with a far more attractive $300 price point, and by that point we had started to get more exclusive games, and most of them were very good. God of War 3, for example, was an epic conclusion to a game series that I had loved dearly on PS2. Uncharted 2 had refined the rough around the edges gameplay and concept in the first game into an action adventure masterpiece that redefined the concept of a cinematic game experience. We had even started to get some oddball fare that turned out a lot better than I think people had really expected, like Little Big Planet or the later Resistance games. A series of small, but important wins would end up positioning Sony back in the lead in the ever brewing console wars, but what’s important to think about with the PS3 is just how close they came to messing it all up. Sony’s arrogance cost them a lot of their customers. On top of that, their terrible ideas like the “Cell Processor”, a nightmarishly difficult to work with CPU, resulted in a lot of multi-platform games being demonstrably worse on PS3. To this day you can’t play PS3 games on anything other than a PS3 and select, very limited, emulators, largely because of how cobbled together and jerry rigged a lot of the systems internal hardware was, and the bizarre ways developers were forced to work around that.

Though it came much later in the life cycle, Skyrim is an excellent example of the Playstation 3′s issues with multiplatform games, being loaded with a myriad of game breaking bugs and performance issues that simply weren’t present on the Xbox 360 and PC.

With all the flaws laid bare, and all the mistakes made, it’s then surprising to learn that the PS3 is in fact the top selling video game console of the 7th gen. Frankly, it deserves that spot. Sony did so much work to bounce back from their tough place and all the dumb mistakes they made, that the PS3′s eventual success (and by extension, the PS4′s mindshare dominance of the 8th gen) seems more than well earned. Ironically the polarity of “Arrogant Sony” and “Cool Game Guy Microsoft” would swap near the end of the generation, but we’ll get to that tomorrow with the PS4. The PS3 may not have had a strong start, but it did have a strong finish. Sony may have flown too close to the sun at the start of the generation, but when they finally managed to fix their problems and give the people what they really wanted, we ended up with one hell a console. One that I think will be remembered for a long time for its strong lineup, excellent other features (It could play Blu Rays! It was actually the cheapest Blu-Ray player on the market at $600) and the presence of Modnation Racers specifically....no? Just me on that last one? Alright, your loss. #BringBackModNationRacers

Taken from us too soon, R.I.P you deeply underappreciated Kart Racing masterpiece.

#ps3 #playstation #ps #playstation 3 #sony #sony games #video games #video game #skyrim #modnation racers #uncharted #uncharted 2 #nathan drake #game journal #game journalism #video game journalism #video game journal #bread's game journal

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my-happy-little-bean · 5 years ago

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Picnics in the Imagination

pairings: no romantic ones! just a nice LAMP fic :) words: 3294 warnings: mild swearing, insecurity, slight hurt/comfort vibes

summary:

Everyone stared at those two bees in front of them; what were they doing?

Or: the sides share a moment in the Imagination.

a/n- hello! pls excuse this like, weird character study of a one shot heh. i have been having trouble with characterization, so i guess my way to solve that was to,,,write solely based on characterization lol. it was good practice, and even if it’s a bit rough, i still hope you enjoy it :)

read on ao3~

---------

There were two bees fighting in front of him.

They were about seven feet away, and he decided that he should be able to outrun them if they decided to team up against him; or worse, if they were going to attract some equally-terrifying friends. But for the time being, they seemed like they were too wrapped up in trying to murder each other to even notice him.

It made Virgil wonder why Roman did stuff like that; why he would create a world so beautiful, only to have it destroy itself. He wondered if the self-inflicted drama was some stupid way of him validating his own strength or whatever.

Or maybe it was only this destructive when Virgil was here.

It wasn’t too far-fetched of an idea. That was why it took two and a half weeks to convince Virgil to even take a step into the Imagination again, let alone sit down in it and eat sandwiches.

Though, who could really blame him? He wasn’t meant to exist here, where everything was all special and breathtaking and make-believe. It was literally everything he wasn’t. The last time he was here, it had seemed like the Imagination was actively trying to push him out via a million tiny goblins.

(Virgil couldn’t help but shudder at the memory of stuffing them all in a box, frantically searching for the key to trap them there forever before they set off again and ruin someone else’s hat.)

And even if it was okay for him to be here, there wasn’t much for him to do. No one wanted to imagine the storms Virgil found himself under, anyway. After all, the things Roman triumphantly held on the ends of his sword were from monsters Virgil embodied. The grass he stepped on literally burned at the tips if he stood on it for too long.

So why did he feel so...so safe?

Logan had told him once that the Imagination responded to everyone who stepped into its territory. It was supposed to be reassurance, but it was something that scared Virgil the most; that something could reflect the heavy static he could barely walk across everyday. And the first few times he was here, it did.

But now, the Imagination felt like a weighted blanket; almost suffocating at first, but gave way to the unfamiliar feeling of a hug. If he closed his eyes for a second, he could hear a distant thunderstorm coming from who-knows-where; a gentle memory of the only natural disaster he found comfort in. And the grass he stepped would burn, yes, but not all the time now; and it would always resolve itself anyway by bringing to light a small, black rose from the ashes.

His place in the Imagination today only reminded him of the effort everyone was willing to put forth for him; that everything was slowly getting used to the fact that he wasn’t some leech latching onto the sun. Roman eased the worries of his creation, one that had once despised him and all he was; and then eased the worries of Virgil, who didn’t believe he could finally be anything other than the bad guy. Logan made the plans—he always made the plans—and Patton…

Well, Patton tried everything.

He took a sip from his tea and set it aside, pulling his hood over his head and curling up on Patton’s lap. He heard the side giggle and felt him push his hood back ever-so slightly; just to scratch idly behind his ear and braid his fingers through his hair.

And Virgil let him.

Besides, he was too wrapped up in another thought to really care much; the thought that he wasn’t in the moment enough that the moment would pass him by before he could properly appreciate it. He couldn’t help but think about how everyone would eventually pack their things when his storm finally came around. He picked at the sharp grass beside him, scared that it would all go away somehow when he finally– finally– woke up from this dream.

He couldn’t help but look up at the bright blue skies above him.

Virgil sighed, chewing his bottom lip nervously. The Imagination, even as a concept, was so daunting. It stretched so far beyond him that it pretty much scared him shitless. The clouds looked like they could fall on him at any given second, and the bees—as pretty as they are— were still fighting; who’s to say they couldn’t hurt him too?

But it was beautiful.

And he was here.

Virgil closed his eyes and heard the soft sound of rain, far far away.

And when he opened his eyes, he saw Roman,

who was shaking his head at him with a knowing smile.

---

Roman couldn’t help but beam as he watched the two bees in front of him dance, a harmonious waltz above the lush, green grass they grew. Logan could say anything he wanted about the Imagination; the real world could never compare to all of this.

Or at least, that’s what Roman used to think.

Truth be told, the Imagination was only this beautiful when Thomas was satisfied. For the most part, Roman would be running around, dousing fires– literal fires– in every direction. He’d end his days without really ending them, fighting monsters to make his world flawless when the sun rose. This picnic was actually the first time he really stood still in the Imagination since…well, since the Great Goblin Incident of 2019; though that was less of a wake-up call and more of an unwelcome surprise.

(Roman wasn’t able to get the goo out of his hair for weeks.)

And he took great pride in how special his creation was. After all, he made it — and he was pretty awesome. He was able to plant seeds in Thomas’s mind and thus grow a beautiful, magnificent garden. He grew so many gardens actually. He’d grow them left and right, without much of a thought. Anything to spruce up the place.

But there were other days when the Imagination would claw at him for more– for something else. It would grab his ankles as he walked and drag him through the ground when he least expected it, begging him for a new garden; a new village; a new adventure; a new anything.

And at some point, the Imagination became his office. Sure, it was a place Roman would escape to so he could build a tower to hide in when the real world got too much. But it was also a place that Roman would eventually give into; one that would force him to stay the night so he could finish that thing– there was always that one thing.

It was where he would fight Anxiety and win. It was where Morality would cheer for him and carry him on his shoulders with glee. It was where Logic didn’t exist.

It was a place where Roman was everyone’s hero; where everyone needed Creativity.

Not today, though.

Today, the sun glowed bright in the crystal-clear skies without him. He didn’t need the birds to sing him ballads, and he didn’t need the squirrels to care about him all that much. And he would come here to work, yes; but he’d come here to appreciate his work as well.

Nowadays, Patton, Virgil, even Logan appreciated his work alongside him. They saw beauty in every crack Roman would dwell over; saw love and care in each one of his masterpieces. They even took the time to appreciate the gruelling effort that bled through his creation and made sure he was resting– actually resting– when he was done for the day.

And he vowed to repay their love — even if they insisted that he didn’t need to. A glorious battle, perhaps! He could put himself in danger for them, just to show them he would. He could even wage a war with the feelings the others held too close to their chests, those feelings embodied as gruesome monsters and foe, and he would win. Every time.

Because Roman could never lose. Not with them by his side.

He looked around him with a bright smile and a dawning realization, one that he came across a thousand times, nowadays:

The realization that he was surrounded by everything he could ever need.

Roman finished another song on his ukulele and Patton burst into applause. Logan simply nodded at his performance, flipping through another page of the book Roman recommended to him. Virgil just pulled his hoodie over his head and curled up in Patton’s lap.

Poor storm-cloud. He almost felt sad watching him. A part of him would always be jaded by the fact that he ever hurt Virgil.

Roman stood up and walked a few feet away from everyone else, looking off into the distance before closing his eyes. He thought for a little while, and then sent the wind away to bring back the sound of rain and sprinkle it over their heads.

That would hopefully help.

He turned around and looked at the rest of his family. For a moment, everything seemed to freeze. He could feel the grass tickle his feet, as if it were planning to lift him off the ground any second now. A cool breeze weaved itself through his hair and when they dropped off the sound of rain, they picked up the song Roman played to spread it across the land.

He looked up at the sky and watched the birds soar above them,

and thought about how his creation no longer hated him.

He then met Virgil’s eyes, and wondered if he felt the same thing.

Nothing can hurt you here, Roman thought. Not anymore.

---

Swarming was a natural process in the life of a honey bee colony. It was a method of propagation; one that occurred in response to crowding within the colony. If a bee was huddled close to another, it was most likely that they were in the beginning phases of attracting a swarm.

Perhaps that is what those two bees were doing in front of them.

How fascinating.

Logan took a break from reading to take in his surroundings. Roman must have dedicated a respectable amount of time to making the Imagination so faithful to real life. The way each tree was carved in patterns unlike each other, the way the waters seemed to move endlessly and not on a loop.

He knew they were not real. None of them were. So it was interesting to think that not one part of Roman’s world was fabricated in a way that was mechanical and half-hearted; but was instead crafted with such caution and care. Every grass in its own, respective place; every flower grown for a reason.

Logan had made numerous visits to the Imagination in the past; for research purposes, more often than not. Well, other than the dreadful incident with the exploding goblins; though his presence in the whole ordeal was the by-product of an untimely coincidence.

He had interviewed Roman countless times to learn more about this place, but he was yet to leave with an unbiased point of view. Roman would not contribute many useful points to their discussions, choosing to speak only in fanciful, unhelpful metaphors. All he would say about the Imagination was that it merely existed; and it existed so beautifully that it did not need much explanation.

Everything was there for a reason he could not explain.

He had compiled a few notes based on his own extrapolations and observations; consuming knowledge he would then pass onto Thomas so that he could better understand himself (or onto Virgil, to ease his trepidation towards Roman’s creation).

However, he had never really taken the time to just...sit in it.

There were so many creatures and biomes, even cities; all nestled safely underneath the boundless shelter of the Imagination. And the sky was always stunning, no matter the weather. He wondered if Roman would allow him into this strange place more often for recreational purposes. He wondered if Roman would even enjoy his company.

The picnic, of course, was Patton’s idea. It was his way of “bonding” with everyone. Patton had many ideas of what ‘bonding’ looked like — weekly onesie-and-movie nights, having dinner together (even if they did not need to consume food), bi-weekly board game nights, et cetera. With so many options, Logan was not quite sure why Patton found the need to spend even more time with him.

He was not blind to the fact that his presence was not arbitrary. Really, his only function was to present knowledge when needed, then allow the others to use that knowledge in order to make Thomas...well, content. If anyone were to benefit from Patton’s many “family excursions”, it was Virgil. His attempts of reassuring the anxious side paled in comparison to Patton’s efforts.

Logan, unlike the rest of them, did not need love or affection; nor was it necessary that he ‘bonded’ with anyone. He just needed to exist for everyone and live to exist for as long as he could.

He was not real, anyway.

(Though, the thought haunted him far more than he would like to admit.)

He snuck a brief glance at Patton, who was enthralled by Roman’s performance under the sun. It was almost as if the sunshine in the Imagination folded itself around him; like he was the one keeping it warm.

Patton seemed to thrive in the Imagination; and for good reason, too. He was everything the Imagination was; a safe haven, a home, alive. He could extend the observation to Roman, even Virgil. They all belonged here, rested on the grass underneath the brilliant sun.

Logan...did as well.

The thought was hesitant—illogically so—but it was reassuring enough that it was there. Normally, he would think the opposite, but his counterparts only reassured him that that was not the case. He really did belong here, on the same pedestal as them; for reasons unrelated to work.

He was a part of their silly...loving family.

And they were real enough; real enough that he was able to absentmindedly hold Patton’s hand as he coddled Virgil on his lap. He was real enough to look at Roman work his magic in this strange wonder of a world and feel a sense of pride for him.

He was real enough to feel close with them; even though there were times when it felt like he was better off uninvited.

Perhaps this was the meaning behind Patton’s madness. Perhaps it was his way of reassuring him that he, like the rest of the sides, were just simply loved; unconditionally and without a doubt. It is a feeling that, surprisingly enough, Logan held close to him.

No amount of research would ever be able to tell him why.

He sighed, going back to his book and flipping to the next page. The Imagination, at the end of the day, was simply an enigma; constructed by weird science and magic alike.

But his family...well, they turned the Imagination into a reminder of how special existence was; how delicate the universe crafted each and every one of them.

How purposeful it was when creating him.

---

Aww, look at those bees playin’ with each other, Patton thought happily to himself. What good friends they are!

The Imagination was un-bee-lievable. The fact that his kiddo made the whole thing himself? He couldn’t imagine how difficult it must have been! He was so proud of him.

He was proud of everyone, really; which was precisely why he planned this picnic! Roman created such a beautiful place, Logan worked so hard, and Virgil...well, he had finally said yes.

And besides, it was just nice. For once, there was nothing to do. No difficult thinking, no one to fight. It was just him and his family, sitting under the big, blue sky.

Surprisingly enough, this was the first time Patton ever visited the Imagination when it was sunny. More often than not, Patton would visit the Imagination after-hours; sneak in when he knew everyone was asleep. Most of the time, he’d get caught by Roman; who was just as restless as him, yet more curious as to why he was there. Patton would never tell him the real reason, though — only saying that he wanted to check in on him. It wasn’t really a lie, anyway. It was just the right thing to do.

The Imagination was different in the night. Patton was sure that he was one of the only other sides to have seen it. It felt more like an ode to Thomas’s youth; the years when he would tape glow-in-the-dark stars to his ceiling and try to catch fireflies in mason jars. Each daisy seemed to sway in the warm sense of familiarity the wind carried; and the ocean always looked like it was folding on top of each other in a sea of scribbles coloured Pacific, Navy, and Midnight Blue.

If he squinted, Patton could see constellations in the sky. Dancing in the velvet blanket above him were stars, mapping out the image of a young boy helping someone off the ground after a nasty fall.

It was his perfect Thomas. Always selfless, always perfect.

On the nights when Roman would find him, sitting on top of a hill with his knees brought close to his chest, he would always let Patton lie down in his lap and weave him a fairytale; one that Thomas used to love. The prince would always save the day. The teacher would explain absolutely everything. The mind would never reel, and the heart was always right.

He couldn’t help but miss it. He missed the days when it seemed like royalty could be as honourable as the ones in Thomas’s old picture books; that learning was not as painful as it was now. And while the mind was buried through layers of heavy static and storm clouds, the heart didn’t know the way.

Thomas wasn’t as good as he wanted him to be, and Patton just didn’t know what to do.

But all of that didn’t really matter in the Imagination. The fact that it was bright and sunny only meant that Thomas was the same goofy, loving child he used to be. Sure, a few things slip past Roman every now and then (Patton would never ever ever forget what those goblins did to his new top-hat), but that didn’t mean that Thomas was inherently bad.

Besides, the day was just as beautiful as the night. With Thomas all grown up, he was creating things Patton could only dream of. Yes, storms would still roll around; but they would always give way to a beautiful rainbow.

The Imagination was always the same, no matter what crossed its path.

And perhaps, the same thing could be said about him.

Patton tried his best to get lost in the music Roman was playing for the group. He set aside his sandwich, and snuck glances at Virgil and Logan. They seemed at peace; Virgil was drinking tea he made for him, and Logan was reading a book.

And if Roman was singing, it meant that Patton still had it in him to bring his family together.

Patton sighed wistfully. He would do anything to capture this moment in any way he could. He wanted this single second to last forever. He yearned to keep the sunshine safe and sound in a small jar to put on his shelves.

Really, he just wanted everyone to be happy.

But as beautiful as nights in the Imagination were, Patton could learn to love the present if it felt this good.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfic #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #lamp/calm #hurt/comfort #gabbie writes things

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