#but from what I could tell - the stage the lights the drama the mood | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aurorafables · 8 months ago

Text

From the Grey, Chapter 1.

Let's get is started. :) I'm very excited, and I hope you will like it bc I loved to write it.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Nicholas Ruffilo

Warnings: 18+, Explicit, Angst, Past character death, Suicidal thoughts

Tags: M/M, Slow burn, Childhood friends, Friends to lovers, Family drama, Band fic

Word Count: 4.2k

Cross-posted: AO3

Author's note: This was originally written in Hungarian, and I'm still looking for a proofreader, so please forgive me the mistakes, strange expressions. Hope it's still enjoyable. Let me know, what do you think. :) Also let me know if you want to be tagged in the upcoming parts :)

Summary: In Noah's life, his best friend was the light, the way out of the abuse he suffered at home. After a childhood full of trauma, in which he was stripped of his wings so many times, he moves in with Nick, whose goal is to let him fly. The band, Bad Omens, led by Noah, begins to soar, which brings at least as many problems as joy. As teenagers grow into men, Noah and Nick drift closer and closer to each other, and the boundaries of friendship and love completely merge.

Chapter 1.

It would be difficult to say exactly when it started. It was as if the dynamic between the two of us had completely changed without being noticed. I could compare it to when I'm doing a tattoo and I want to create a nice color gradient to make the design look as realistic as possible. The point is that you can't tell where one color ends and the other color begins. Even between us, the transition from wanting to hug him in a friendly way to kissing him passionately was imperceptible.

Maybe I woke up like that one day, but it's also possible that the desire had been brewing in me for weeks, months, years, I just blocked it deep down. And what if I felt that little spark the first time we met, but I was still almost a child and couldn't identify it? I have to start this story somewhere. And like most fairy tales, it didn't start well. The mood of the whole band was cast by melancholy over the loss of a friend. But like all dead artists, Keaton remained immortal. His voice will live forever on the records, despite the fact that he was not with us anymore. The music of Too Close To Touch mingled with the cohesive low murmur of the crowd outside in the club's concert hall, where Keaton's vocals echoed painfully through the walls. "Death is not a game with the ones I hold close She was mine, mine, you can't deny Three years is too quick to die"* All his anger, all his pain were in the song he wrote about his little sister, who died lying on a hospital bed. In the text, he blamed God for choosing little Eiley over him. The poor boy had no idea at the time that they were both chosen… Personally, I would have liked to break something if I remembered that he was gone now, and I could only reassure myself that maybe they were already up there together. If it even exists up there. Because what if up there is actually only two meters underground?

The song didn't come at the best moment, because we had to go on stage right after, and I might be able to hide my mood in front of the audience… I glanced at Noah and my heart sank when I saw him banging his head against the wall, clutching the microphone in his hand, next to the stage, which we will soon have to walk up to. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, which I completely forgot to do in parallel. I was so worried about him. I knew he'd hate himself for that if his voice cracked while singing the opening lines of The Death Of Peace Of Mind. His maximalism was what he could torture himself with the most. Also, he had to be up there alone at the beginning of the song, we didn't join until later. I walked to him and gently put my hand on his shoulder, but I still managed to scare him a little because he pulled away before he opened his eyes. When he saw me, he almost snuggled back into my hand. It reminded me of my very first cat, the little black ball of fur I found on the street when I was barely ten. I named him Dusk because of his color and when he came to us I did everything I could to fatten him up. We slept together in my bed at night, because his soft purr always lulled me to sleep quickly. It was amazing how much Dusk and Noah were alike. Even in the semi-darkness next to the stage, my best friend's dark brown eyes glistened with unshed tears, which he tried to quickly blink away. His shoulders slumped forward in the thin linen jacket, and I'd bet his fingers were white under the faux-leather glove he wore on his left hand, clutching the microphone like a lifeline. He and Keaton were very close. In the last two years, they spent a lot of time together, especially during and after the Covid epidemic, when it was possible to travel. Even when they were far away, they kept in touch on a daily basis. Keaton was good with all of us, but he had a stronger bond with Noah. He wanted to remember him by playing their songs during the break after our opening band, but Eiley's song has never come at such a bad time.

“We can extend the time for five more minutes,” I told him, and meanwhile I looked back at Jolly, who was still fiddling with his headphones with the help of a sound technician, and Folio was deep in his own thoughts drumming on the wall, sometimes doing shoulder circles as a warm-up. "Everything's fine," Noah replied in a weak voice, to which I nodded hesitantly, lowered my hand, and took a step back. "I'm worthless to the world You're innocent and pure God, why didn't you choose me over her?”* They signaled to Noah, who gave a thumbs up as if everything was fine. Nonsense. I knew nothing was okay. Keaton's voice faded outside and soon the intro to our song began. I looked down at my guitar and after stretching my fingers I strummed a few chords just to pass the time. When Noah walked out and the crowd cheered, he wasn't as lost as he had been two minutes ago. He immediately filled the stage and sang like a fucking siren without faltering. I shook my head, feeling a little angry at myself for constantly underestimating him. It was about time to get used to that Noah wasn't ruined by all the crap that happened around him. On the contrary, it only strengthened him even more.

Two months later, I was sitting on the steps of the tour bus in Phoenix, beer in one hand and a half-smoked cigarette in the other, when I heard Noah's footsteps behind me. After a concert he liked to clear his head, so I thought he was going for his usual walk and I thought that I could join. I stood up to let him go, and when he stepped next to me, I was hit by the smell of his perfume. He had just stuffed his wallet into the back pocket of his pants, so I began to suspect that he had other plans for that evening. “Karin is in the city,” he said to me, but he didn't look at me, just watched the night lights. The blue neon lights of the bar glistened on the brunette's hair, and the tattoos running down his arms coiled around his skin like snakes. I thought I still had time. I thought I could figure something out before they met again in Salt Lake City. I blew out the last of the smoke, extinguished the butt, then slipped out of my denim jacket and held it out to him. “We will leave in the morning, be here by then.” Noah hesitantly took my jacket and looked at me. “That's it?” he asked in disbelief. I don't know what he expected. Maybe to remind him again that woman is crazy like hell? "I'm tired," I confessed to him. ”I can't save you from someone whose arms you keep running into. But I can do something to save you from catching a cold,” I gestured towards the jacket. He still didn't move, even though the situation was becoming more and more pressing for me, and the spring night wasn't nearly warm enough to keep me from getting goosebumps. I wrapped my arms around myself and hobbled in place. I kicked small stones with my boots on the asphalt of the parking lot and waited. I didn't care if I froze there, I wouldn't leave Noah alone as long as he needed me. The boys' laughter could be heard from inside the bus, a car honked on the street not far from us. I raised my head and immediately met a pair of dark eyes. Stared. I don't know how long or why. I swear he didn't even blink. Then he reached out and touched my arm under the sleeve of my shirt. “You are cold.” I blinked a few times, then started to move. I took the jacket from his hands and draped it over his shoulders. “But you don't have to be cold,” I answered him with an encouraging smile. “Everything will be okay. I will be okay,” he said quietly and gloomily. I don't know which of us he wanted to convince with this, but it didn't work. The smile immediately melted off my face. “Noah…” It's been a long time since my voice sounded so desperate when I said his name. I think all my fear must have been on my face because Noah took a step back and shook his head. I was ready to try again to get him to stay. We could have done so many things. From walking to sitting down to play video games with the boys. Or we could have gone to a nightclub to drink and to flirt with girls. Whatever, just don't let that cunt touch him again… He brushed his hair back and shrugged as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I have to go, Nick. We will talk in the morning.” And that was it. There was nothing I could do to keep him there.

I got home from the tattoo salon late that night and was so tired that all I could think about was my bed. But as soon as I stepped through the door, the strong smell of weed hit me. It went through the small apartment so intensely that I almost got sick of it. "Shit," I muttered to myself as I kicked off my shoes, dropped my bag on the floor, and headed for the bedroom with the goal of scolding Noah. The door was not locked on the little hole we called the bedroom, which was completely filled with my bed and the mattress that Noah had been sleeping on for months. When I entered, he was sitting on the bed, knees pulled up to his chin, and he was holding a weed cigarette between his long, thin fingers. As if he had completely forgotten about it, the ash fell onto my blanket and I was amazed that it hadn't caught fire yet. Noah didn't even notice I got home because he was listening to music on his earphones, and I was sure he was just physically in the room by the way he looked. I leaned towards him, took the cigarette from his fingers and crushed it in the ashtray. With that, I finally drew attention to myself, because after he looked up at me tensely, with red eyes. The Asian features of his face came to life, which normally I would have stared in fascination, but this was not a normal case. I forgot I wanted to yell at him for wasting the weed and almost setting our apartment on fire. Because by then we both owned that little flat. In the corner, next to my guitar, there was also his. Noah's things appeared in the bathroom, his shampoo, his toothbrush, he got half of my wardrobe and sometimes half of my bed… His clothes were just as messily scattered as mine, and he already had his favorite mug, from which he preferred to sip his coffee in the morning. I wanted to think that his eyes were red from smoking weed, but when he spoke, I had no doubt that he must have been crying for hours.

"I thought you'd come home earlier today," he said in a nasal tone after stopping the music and taking out his earphones. In the meantime, I opened the window without holding him responsible for why he did not do so. “I thought so too,” I answered him, then I fell down on the bed next to him. ”Another guest came at seven, and thought I would do miracles in two hours with an old, messed-up tattoo.” Noah nodded, then slowly stretched out his infinite legs. He was only sixteen then, but already a little taller than me. We sat speechless for a while and looked at each other. I was even more overcome by fatigue, and for a moment my eyes were probably closed too long while blinking, because I was jolted when Noah moved next to me. He took a deep breath, then let it out shakily. Our tattooed arms touched and I could feel the tremors running through his bones as he reached for his phone. Oh my god, he was so skinny. If I touched his arms, I was afraid I would crush him as if his limbs were made of thin glass fibers. “I got a message,” he whispered into the dimness, then put the phone on my thigh. I picked it up with a scared heart and started reading. I had a guess of what it might be, and honestly… I just didn't understand why it didn't come sooner. At first, Noah's mother tried to lure her son back to her side with sweet, but poisoned words, which in the end turned into mere threats. Every fucking word she wrote made me feel nauseous. “After half a year, she remembered that she had an underage son. Maybe she expects some kind of reward for it?” I asked, but mostly I meant it as a poetic question.

Noah tensed up next to me and started breathing faster. “I… I can't go back there. If… if you say I have to go back to her, I… rather… I…” "Hey Noah, I would never say that," I turned to him and tried to speak in the most soothing voice possible. But I was too late… By that time, tears were already falling, and he was clutching the crumpled bottom of his two-size-larger shirt. I was totally in shock because I had never seen anything like this before. What kind of friend is who doesn't recognize that the problem is so big? Noah was an old soul with a lot of shit and loss behind him, who blended in perfectly with the adults, so I tended to forget that he was still just a kid. But now there was a child next to me who was terrified. Whom fear brought out the worst. "I shouldn't be here," he said between sobs, to which I shook my head so fast that my hair hit my cheek. I knelt on the bed, turned to face him and tried to remove his fingers from his clothes. I just wanted to hold his hand… I just wanted him to know I was with him. “Noah…No! Don't tell me this!” I protested loudly, but he didn't listen to me. It's like he didn't even hear what I said. Instead, he drove himself deeper and deeper into madness. “I should have died a long time ago…years ago.” If he had only stabbed a dagger into my stomach with his words, this was the moment he twisted it. My chest felt tight and I couldn't breathe. Noah snapped his head back hard and his skull hit the wall loudly. After that, I couldn't focus on my own panic anymore, without thinking I put my hand on his head to protect him from himself. I didn't care that I might not be able to tattoo. My fingers ached as they met the hard wall, but I didn't really notice the pain. All I cared about was Noah and how I could keep him safe. I've been trying to figure out how to fix this. His cries and animalistic whining still ring in my ears, mixed with the sound of my heart's frantic beating. I wrapped my arms around his head and pulled him close as he just cried and cried, his tears completely soaking my shirt. He was hugging my thighs as I knelt next to him, finally not wanting to hurt himself anymore.

That night, I only left his side when I brought him water from the kitchen. Then we both got into bed and Noah turned to face me, but half of his red face from crying was hidden in the pillow and the other half was covered by his hair. I quickly got rid of my tight jeans, threw them on the side of the bed and took his phone in my hand. He was watching what I was doing, but he didn't speak. First, without any guilt, I deleted his mother's message, then opened his music. It didn't surprise me that he was listening to Castle Of Glass by Linkin Park when I got home. I flipped through the playlist and started our favorite song As Cities Burn after giving him one of the earbuds. "Won't you come down, heaven. Won't you come down? Won't you cut through the clouds? Won't you come down?”** At the first chorus, he already closed his eyes, and only then did I allow myself to relax a little. I carefully reached towards him, smoothed the strands falling from his face behind his ears, and then I closed my eyes too. I begged myself to fall into a dreamless sleep. In the morning, when we woke up, Noah helped me untangle the earbuds’ cord from my hair. We parted laughing, shoving a piece of toast into our mouths. He went to a band rehearsal, and I went to a place that has become my second home, the tattoo salon. My fingers got away with it quite well, with a small bruise on one of the joints, which only started to hurt a little towards the end of the day. We didn't discuss anything else about that night. Maybe I regret it since then, but what can I say? I was just a scared kid too, too stupid to help his friend more. Noah's mother died less than two months later. I didn't feel for a minute that she was a loss to the world.

He has become a grown man since and he doesn't need me to protect him from the world. I watched motionless as he walked down the street to get into a taxi. His tall, thin figure disappeared around the corner and I could finally get my legs moving. I got on the bus, grabbed a new bottle of beer from the fridge and joined the others. Folio showed Matt some funny videos and Jolly typed a message on his phone. I sat next to him on the couch and started reading the news. "He won't be able to do this for long," said Jolly next to me in a strong Swedish accent. When it was late and he was tired, he didn't pay so much attention to speaking English with perfect pronunciation. But there's nothing wrong with that, we've been working together for so long, and we've been friends for so long that we understand each other with half a word. “What do you mean?” I turned to him. I slipped out of my boots, slid off the couch, and put my feet up on the small table. I rested my head on the backrest and wiped the steam from the side of the glass with my thumb. “For Noah's secret night meetings. Matt had told him before when saw that he wanted to go out on the town all by himself.” “It doesn't happen that often. And it's not a secret where he's going, he told me he was meeting Karin,” I took him to my defense immediately. “Anyway, why can't he go? The fans had left for an hour, no one was out there. And it's not that he hit the town on foot. He called a taxi.” “That girl is strange,” Jolly grimaced. You do not say.. “When she came to our place, Noah wasn't quite himself.” Recently, I felt guilty for not trying to stop him more firmly, but I reminded myself: Noah pointed out rather angrily during an argument about this that I can't protect him from everything. "If a little fuck puts him in a better mood, we're all fine with that," Folio interjected when Matt left us alone. Maybe I gave him a nasty look from behind my beer bottle, because he held his hands up defensively. I took another sip, then realized I didn't even want the beer. I put the bottle on the table, brushed my teeth in our small bathroom, and went to sleep. At least I wanted to sleep, but I must have been tossing and turning for another hour.

It felt like I had barely closed my eyes when something started to tingle my nose. I brushed it off at first, but then Noah's soft chuckle crept into my consciousness. I groaned then pulled the pillow over my head planning to go back to sleep. I kicked the blanket off because I was hot, and it turned out, it was a big mistake. Ice cold fingers touched my side, the muscles in my stomach jumped and I let out a muffled moan. “Fuck me!” I grumbled hoarsely as I caught Noah's hand, who was just putting the other one in front of my mouth. "Shh, the others are still sleeping," he whispered excitedly with sparkling eyes. “I want to sleep too,” I answered after pulling his hand away from my mouth. “Come on, Nick. I'm hungry. I want breakfast.” “Why can’t you eat?” “Missing your company.” I sighed. “Go to the kitchen. Give me five minutes and I'll be there.” "If I leave you here, you'll go back to sleep," he said accusingly, as if he had every right not to let me go back to sleep. “And I would go a little further for breakfast than the bus kitchen. But I promise, it's worth it. You will love the place.” Another sigh, but I sat up with half-closed eyes, then pulled on a pair of pants and a thick hoodie. My jacket was still on him and he didn't seem like he wanted to give it back.

After five minutes, Noah got off the bus energetically, and I, wrapped in my hoodie, got off the bus grumpily. It was just dawn, around half past six. Noah finally slowed his steps and stopped in front of me, facing me. My hair would have been a complete disaster, not to mention the pillow creases on my face, or my eyes, which I could barely keep open. "You're sweet when you are sleepy," he said finally. He looked at me with a smile, then pulled the hood over my head and did the same with his own. ”I don't want to be recognized.” “Come on! Who would be awake this early?” I asked sarcastically, yawning into my palm. We walked down the street and luckily he was right, we really didn't have to walk far before we got to the breakfast place. Too tired to read the sign, I just entered the small but friendly coffee shop and sighed as I was greeted by a pleasant warmth inside. I said hello to the gray lady behind the counter. When I saw the first cat, licking its paws on a chair, I turned to Noah questioningly, who just shrugged. "I thought you missed your little monsters," he said. A big smile spread across my face. A cat café. I was already less sleepy when I crouched next to the kitten and let him sniff my hand. Then I noticed even more hairballs and I didn't even know which one to go to. Meanwhile, Noah ordered us coffee and breakfast at the counter. I heard the old lady laughingly answer him when asked why they were open so early: “If the kittens wake up, why can't I open the cafe?”

I smiled as I scratched the head of a calico sitting next to the wall, and we blinked at each other for a long time. After ordering, Noah came over and sat next to me. "The chick likes you," he remarked when the kitten was placed on my lap. “What kind of chick? She is a lady here,” I caressed the hairy ears. Laughing softly, Noah leaned forward and, using the kitten etiquette he'd learned from me, introduced himself to our newest friend before petting her. Now that the hood was off his head, I noticed the bite marks on his neck. The dark red spot was located right on the border between his tattoo and his bare skin so that it was just noticeable. I swallowed, tore my gaze from his neck, and reassured myself that Noah didn't seem as lost now as he did after most of his meetings with Karin. Maybe she has changed. Maybe she finally realized what she had to lose? Noah's fingers accidentally touched mine in the kitten's soft fur, and we smiled at each other as the furball began to purr loudly. I haven't seen Noah this happy since before Keaton's death. Maybe Karin isn't so bad after all? We ate breakfast sitting on the floor with a cat each in our laps and had to run back to the bus before departure.

*Too Close To Touch - Eiley **As Cities Burn - Contact

#bad omens fic #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian #nick ruffilo #nicholas ruffilo #jolly karlsson #nick folio #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fic #bad omens band #bad omens smut

19 notes · View notes

redheadspark · 1 year ago

Note

pretty words promts

lyrical - write a scene where your character has to make a speech or perform poetry. Again you pick the character!!

A/N - STELLA THIS IS BRILLIANT! I would love to write this for you, Thanks for requesting this, bestie!

Sonnet

Summary - Poetry was not his forte. But for you, Druig was willing to try.

Warnings - Just come cute fluff :D

"Thanks for coming with me tonight, Sersi!"

"Of course! I love poetry reading, if only I could bring Dane along. He finds it a bore,"

"Well then he and Druig can be good friends then I guess,"

Sersi laughed as you both were sitting together near the small stage at the back of the bar, a smaller booth that was tucked against the wall and already sipping on your wine. The mood was light and intimate, the lights were dimmed low with only the tea lights on the table giving a small glow, and a handful of other poetry lovers were sitting and waiting for the event to start. It was one of your favorite weekly events to go to, a great way to unwind and not think about your job or the stressful drama of your family.

You loved and adored poetry, starting way back in middle school when you had to do research on poetry. The love and obsession came so naturally, coming along with you and your life as you were an English Lit. Degree with a minor in Poetry. Diving into poems about heartache, rage and anger, history, but most importantly, love.

You were a sucker for the poetry about love. How could you not? No other drug or alcohol could hold a flame close enough to warm you at night to bring you more joy and a unique sense of pleasure. Being in clubs and groups that were just as obsessed with poetry as you helped you pass your time in college, which is where you met your best friend Sersi, and got roped into being with her group of friends

It was also where you met your current boyfriend Druig, who did not like poetry at all.

There were a few reasons for that, but the one main reason was that he thought of it as corny. Maybe it was, Druig was more of a cynic and sarcastic in what he thought was great and what he thought was corny. It was in his nature and it never bothered you really, he was a Philosophy major with a minor in human studies so he had to question plenty of things around him. Poetry, in his mind, seemed to be a waste of time when it came to describing how you felt.

"Just say what you feel, don't put it in a sonnet," He said one time on your second date together, you raising a brow to him as a shrugged, "I'm blunter than the average guy,"

"Clearly," You joked back, seeing him roll his eyes as he shoved your shoulder playfully.

You invited him to Poetry Readings before, and he did come to one just to be a supportive boyfriend to you since he knew you loved it. But by the second hour in, you could tell it felt more like torture to him, fidgeting in his chair next to you and his leg bouncing in both anxiousness and boredom. You had to give him credit for waiting it out for two hours, and you took him home early to not torture him any longer. Of course, he felt bad and he was going to come up with an excuse for it, but you were simply glad he made the effort.

It's been a year since you two were introduced by Sersi, 8 months since he asked you out on a date, and you both were still in love with each other. Druig had you move into his apartment since his roommate Kingo was getting his own place and Druig didn't have the heart to let go of the apartment he was in since he loved it too much. All of the steps you were taking together were pointing in the direction of engagement and marriage.

Yet Druig never proposed.

Now you could be patient for so long, but something inside of you was itching to ask him if he wanted to get married in the future. Did he like the thought of marriage? After seeing Sersi and her previous fiance Ikaris break off their engagement in a nasty manner did leave a bitter taste in his mouth, he hated Ikaris ever since he walked away from Sersi. His own personal life was rough, his parents splitting up when he was young and that left a bad scar along his heart. However you knew he loved you, he would show you and tell you constantly he loved and adored you more than he could ever comprehend.

So, all you could do was wait and hope.

"Ladies and Gentleman, thank you again for coming out to this special Poetry Slam tonight! We are excited to get to the artists who are showcasing their words tonight, but before we do, we have a special reader who wishes to go first. He's new to our reading, so go easy on him. Please, give a warm welcome to Druig!"

"Oh my God!" Sersi said in a shriek as your eyes were huge, seeing none other than your boyfriend going up onto the small stage about 50 feet away from you. He was sporting his black leather, a gift you gave him on his birthday, a dark shirt under the jacket with fitted jeans, and his boots. It was his usual wear, but you noticed that his hair was cut and styled to the side, something that wasn't like him. But there he was, looking rather nervous as he was clutching a thin book in his hand.

"Hi," He said into the microphone. A few people clapped and snapped their fingers as he cleared his throat, "I...I wanted to read something special, for someone special that is in my life. This is very new to me, so bare with me," He joked, several people were chuckling as he looked over at you. You grinned, feeling your heart pounding in your chest as he smiled widely at you and pointed to you with his spare hand, "This is for my girlfriend, and the love of my life,"

Some people cooed and awed as you felt Sersi rub your arm in encouragement, your eyes never leaving Druig as he flipped open the book. You could see his hands were shaking, beyond nervous, and almost looking a bit pale. But he then took in a long breath, the nerves were gone, and it almost felt like it was just you two in the bar. Everyone else melted away, just you in the booth and Druig reciting poetry to you.

"It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of Annabel Lee; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me.

Tears were forming in your eyes, knowing this poem very well. You could recite it on your own if you could, and as Druig was saying that poem smoothly into the microphone, you were mouthing along with him. Hearing his tone, how the words flowed into the room and painted the picture of Poe, made you shove the tears away rapidly as he went on.

"I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love— I and my Annabel Lee— With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven Coveted her and me.

You remembered feeling him about this poem in particular back when you two first officially got together. You had to stay at his place over the weekend since there was a leak in your bathroom at your apartment and the maintenance crew was going to take several hours to fix the leak and any other problems. You brought your Edgar Allen Poe book, reading it next to Druig as he was turning off the lights and snuggling in bed with you.

"Read it to me?" He asked.

"But you hate poetry," You reasoned.

"Aye, but not when you read it," Druig replied, making you blush madly as you then read Annabelle Lee. Druig listened, hanging on your every word and never once losing interest as you recited the poem in such a gentle tone and with no urgency.

Now Druig was doing just the same in this moment, just for you.

"For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride, In her sepulcher there by the sea— In her tomb by the sounding sea"

The bar erupted in clapping and snapping of fingers, Druig closing the book and smiling as you moved out of the booth without even realizing that you were rushing to him. You hugged him tightly, and the clapping got louder in the room as Druig hugged you just as tightly. You weren't thinking about the other people in the room, of that you both were still on the stage under the lights, you were focusing on Druig and the fact that he recited poetry in front of a group of strangers. This was out of his element, out of his comfort zone, and it didn't stop there.

He fell to one knee, taking out a small ring box from his jacket pocket and opening the top.

"Marry me, my love?" He asked, though his voice was being fogged by the erupting of cheers from the bar and all that was watching. You were freely crying, nodding rapidly as a flash of a camera taking your picture went off. The ring slipped on your fingers, Druig kissed you with a massive grin on his face, and Sersi took another picture with her own tears in her eyes while she sent the picture to the rest of the group in your group text.

Druig would read the same poem to you again a year later at your wedding, you proclaiming that poem as your shared poem together.

The End.

#druig fluff #druig x oc #druig eternals #druig x reader #druig x female reader #druig x you #druig x y/n #eternals fan writing #marvel cinematic universe #marvel cinematic universe fanfiction #mcu writing #mcu fanfiction #mcu phase 4 #mcu #marvel fanfic writer #marvels eternals #marvel writing #marvel fanfiction

39 notes · View notes

yridenergyridenergy · 2 years ago

Text

Sukekiyo live report [2023/02/16]

Five years to the day since I last saw sukekiyo! 20+ hours on planes and back to Canada tomorrow, just to attend this special show; I just had to!

It is extremely difficult for me to remember what moment goes with what song. Had I attended more sukekiyo concerts more regularly, there might be more stuff that would have stuck out as being associated to a song, but it's only sparse details. All I remember in general is Kyo dancing in so many various ways, caressing his face, messing up his hair, etc.

Overall, it was literally a blast pop party, exactly like I wanted it! Epic from beginning to… almost the end, as the official setlist closed with 'aftermath', which I find boring to begin with but it really dampened the mood. The only thing I can say about 'aftermath' is propos to Kyo for the high chorus, but it also looks weird when you don't sing like the studio version and that the screen displays your younger self in the PV mouthing stuff differently.

Anyway! 'aftermath' aside, holy hell! For five years I have been simply blasting sukekiyo's songs in my car every other weekend, the hype building for each song as I sang along with them. So hearing those beloved melodies pouring from the stage was epic! I was super into each beat from the start, while the crowd stayed immobile for the first half. But I had checked the website and no rules were listed other than concerning the virus.

Everybody walked on stage and the crowd was dead silent. What also made it really awkward was that there seemed to be quite a long delay between each song of the set, and that was done in complete silence, no clapping even.

I was on the right side so I couldn't tell you much about Mika or UtA, but Yuchi was wearing a pullover (orange?) and he had very dark and thick lipstick. Takumi's braids were light coloured, so all the stage colours were reflected on his head. As for Kyo, he wore a long black dress with puffy long sleeves. He had a black collar/choker on top of that, unless the separated line was connected to the dress in the back. He had no tights underneath, as we could notice when he crouched with a leg spread in front of him during one of the songs, lingering there for a few seconds. Otherwise, what kind of struck me was that he had a black lacey glove on his left hand, whereas he tends to wear a glove on his right one with Dir en grey, because that's always where he holds the mic. It was kind of odd in that context to see Kyo's tattoos on his right hand, especially as it somewhat contrasts with the feminine outfit. Always wondering to what extent that was intended. And Kyo's haircut was similar to the one he had in Liquefacio, which I loooved!

Before the concert started, the background music was actually audio excerpts from some Japanese drama shows. Not sure if anime or live. It seemed like they were old, from the previous century, so I don't think that many in sukekiyo's fanbase knew what it was. One of the female characters sounded super distressed at some point, like she was getting violently victimized. Not that later segment, but the overall idea of the drama shows featuring mainly female characters is important for something later in the show.

Onto the detailed stuff!

The show started with Scarlet, but actually there was an instrumental prelude to it with a similar melody, just no drums I think. Because as you know, studio Scarlet starts with a BANG. In fact, quite a few songs had preludes to them, and in some cases the sounds were different enough that I wasn't sure what song would be coming up, or if it was a "session" even. But all in all, those new extended intros were always sweet and appreciated! Maybe it made up for how there was no smooth transition from one song to the next.

Kyo sang Scarlet with such passion. I remember him sensually sliding a finger from top to bottom along the rose lights on his mic stand, around the beginning of the concert as well as in a second song.

Then it was En, which was of course epic! Kyo struggled with some of the choruses sang in high notes though, but that seemed to improve in the second half of the show.

I can't remember much from 'kisses' other than having the certainty that Kyo danced a lot, most likely one of the sensual times. Oh, actually, I had made a mental note that for a song called 'kisses', Kyo did some huge hip sway twice amd that was the focus instead.

Kisses ended and Kyo said: "Ai de gomen nasai", or at least it sounded like thar but the "gomen nasai" was kind of jumbled up into two syllables only, somehow. And then began Hakudaku. At this point in the show, people were still really immobile and quiet, so it was the whole band being passionate, especially Kyo, and me vigorously nodding my head to the beat.

Oh, and then my neck got no rest at all because beauty Mozaic Shoujo's notes began playing, but I think this was one of the songs where the introduction left you wondering if your favourite song (one of them anyway) was really going to be the one played next. The PV was projected in the background during it. During the chorus (Ano hito janakyaya, ato dore kurai), Kyo started vigorously pointing right, centre then left (from his perspective), bending his arm and extending it toward us with each word, not just to act the lyrics of "not the right person", but it seemed like a real wakeup call for the crowd. Like SLAP, Kyo wants you to gesture with him! Look alive! He was so into it.

After that, aoguroi hysteria came and for some reason, despite it not being a pop song, out of nowhere some fans raised their hand during the chorus. I can't remember them doing so in 2017 and 2018 when I last saw it performed.

Furesaseru, honestly I don't have any vivid memories from that song. The chorus is intense as it sounds, but other than the lyrics being projected, that's it. Maybe it was during this song that Kyo faked puffing a cigarette, gesturing and exhaling, while the screen showed slivers that could kind of be interpreted as smoke.

Oh but then, Aishita Shinzou! I think it was at the beginning of that song that Kyo was sighing sadly in the mic before the first notes were played. He (or the character he was acting) gave off this very "clingy" personality, due to the way he sang some of the lines. It sounded lyrical, romantically needy, and he went left and right on stage for both instances. To conclude the song, Kyo's last couple of syllables were uttered as a cry or a long, loud exasperation, bending backward as he did so. Then, it looked like he continued the motion of lowering his mic even though his body wouldn't bend any further backward, so from where I stood, it was like he shoved the mic in his mouth in disgust and finality. I wish I knew the lyrics, but they must have been relevant.

I don't recall for which songs specifically, but today's concert undid sukekiyo's reputation for impeccable music. I had known the band's musicians to sound just like the studio recording on stage, which made me really admire their professionalism and expertise. But tonight, it was definitely not just Kyo improvising, and sometimes that made the instrumentalization sound honestly off track.

Oooooh my beloved Valentina was next! I had never seen it live, even though it has existed for quite a while. Upon the first notes, those of us with the penlights pulled out our Valentina stick (although a couple fans took out the Candis one, which had been explicitly prohibited as they are different tints of pink too). I am so glad I bought them on the resale market, I would have felt so left out. It wasn't clear at first, as fans seemed shy and kept the pen light low until the chorus, but it seemed obvious after the first chorus that it could be left up the whole time! It's crazy how Kyo builds a connection with the crowd during this song. Is it just the pop-style gesture? He seemed to stare at us with wider eyes full of expectation, like he was concentrated only on this connection.

Dorothy was a cool pop song to prolong the mood. I was really into it, but I think most fans' arms were weak at this point. Was it in this song that Kyo was dancing left and right? There was also one song in which he did the Sustain the Untruth dance, but before he did that, he turned toward the left side of the stage and did kind of a Russian (?) dance, like crouching a bit and extending one leg, getting up and then alternating with the other leg? It looked a bit funny but Kyo was just doing whatever he wished.

Candis came, I think again with an extra intro, but we pulled out our Candis penlights (again, a couple of fans pulled out the wrong one, probably the same who had confused Valentina earlier). I guess there was a lot of dancing from Kyo, as the song demands!

Shiryou no ariana, I think there was a "session" at some point before, or after? In that improvisation, the band was playing music but Kyo faced the back of the stage and he said stuff as if he was answering someone on the phone. In my opinion, it sounded like the clingy girlfriend, as he was saying "hayakuuu" a few times near the end. I have a complete blank right now about the rest of the one-sided conversation, other than "Sou desu". Anyway, for Shiryou no ariana, the feed from the camera of the back platform was projected on the screen veil, but at first Kyo used his right-side mic so he was shown only on a third of the screen to people who were on the left. But he changed to the central one soon. It's always interesting to hear how Kyo screeches or sings the line that he then distorts and repeats for the rest of the song. From what the camera was showing, he was really focused.

Next was Sesshoku, and there were two special aspects about this song other than its traditional robot moves: Kyo sang the DOPE parts way not with a low pitch of voice, but mostly high-pitched at first, and I think he was shouting it in the second segment. And when Sesshoku ended, the projection displays rectangles like a piano's notes falling continuously while there were sounds like a horse's footsteps or something like that playing. And if I'm not confusing with a different song, it was then that Kyo pointed to lights in the projected video, which transformed into butterflies. And somehow, he knew when some butterflies would be animated to kind of break off or have a wing torn apart, as he seemed like he was pinching those rather than pointing. This went on for a while.

Honnou okotowari, it was less sensual than it had sounded to me, but judging by how I remember a lot of hands being up during this song, I guess it was then that Kyo started doing quite a lot of callouts for the remainder of the show. The traditional request to break our necks, the "Can you hear me?", etc. Oh, the calls for "Tobeee!" (jump) were very rocker. The "Cease to speak" and "shut down" were especially intense as well, with Yuchi's backup vocals. I have a vague recollection of Kyo pointing to us during those lines, maybe in reference to how we couldn't speak in the venue?

'Creeper' was full of fist pumping too! At this point, I'm not sure what song it was, but Sesshoku was over and yet Kyo danced into somewhat of a violinist position and he started swinging his left arm across his right to the notes of a certain string instrument, really mechanically and staring absent-mindedly somewhere in front of him on the ground.

Waizatsu then came on after a short break and by now, everybody knows how Kyo expects us to act during this song! It's been obvious since 2017 and at least the crowd responded accordingly. I don't know why, but the last Creepshow part was so intense. During the line about barfing, Kyo literally made a sound as though he expelled something from his mouth. He sang everything but the choruses way freeform, walking to each side of the stage with a crazy expression. It seemed so odd to see him super stoic behind the veil that showed the PV's shot of "Best of all time" or something similar with fireworks. Like dude, especially on your birthday, I want you to know that you deserve any award possible!

Next, Sharara! I think Kyo was more and more demanding by this point. It sounded like one of the high-pitched moments in the song was really a "sharara" rather than the increasing long note that it sounds like on the studio recording, just before the heavy part at the end. As far as I remember, Kyo was intensely headbanging around this song.

And then… Yeah, 'aftermath'. That whole atmosphere we had built, painstakingly in the case of Kyo re: fans not moving, came to a screeching halt real quick.

Kyo left while the song was not really finished, without saying his usual "Oyasumi", so we expected that it wasn't the real end. The other members finished 'aftermath', then Yuchi left and he was halfway out of the stage when finally we started clapping. On his way out, Takumi made exaggerated moves at the spot where Kyo stood, almost as if to mime that there was something/someone missing or that the spot was ready.

We clapped a lot, even though at first the announcer told us that it was over. But the guy with the big no-camera no-phone no-mic/recording sign wavef it in front of us again, so we kind of knew to stay, if there was still something not to record.

(I don't know when else to mention this, but I saw that UtA pointed at his part of the crowd a few times, as though to say that a person got it.)

Not too long after, the four musicians came back and we clapped even louder/more people joined in when Kyo walked back. He did a little MC at first, as though he wasn't sure what to do, but he thanked us, to which we responded by clapping even more vigorously. They played Kō mo Chigau Mono Nano ka, Yōsuru ni, and considering that I don't like the album remix, it honestly sounded more like the cleaner version of the demo? It was intense and everyone was into it, but as it finished, Kyo started saying something like something went wrong, that he hadn't done something, while passing a hand through his hair to mess it up more. So the band redid the last segment of the song, with Kyo screaming more intensely and moving more too. But once again the part ended and it was like he wasn't satisfied but played dumb wondering what was missing. Then the crowd actually broke the rule and people cheered, with one guy especially cheering on something Kyo said that made him reply teasingly (with fake offense/frown) that the guy was dumb, to which everyone laughed. And the last part of the song was played once more, Kyo being one notch more intense even, headbanging deeply. Before the last notes were played, he quickly turned, said "Bye bye" and dropped his mic on his way out of the stage unceremoniously. The other members finished with improvised rock to end the set with a bang. As Takumi later exited, he once again made wild movements at the spot where Kyo left his mic, as though offended for the poor little thing. All of them made gestures to their heart in appreciation for our energy tonight.

And with that, we were promptly kicked out of the venue by two staff members. That was truly it.

(And thank goodness there are larger parts at the tip of the penlights, because if I hadn't been gripping them hard, my intense swinging would have thrown them right at someone's head or even into the veil in front of the stage!)

#sukekiyo #Live report #Kyo #birthday #Nuimasu #Namba Hatch

44 notes · View notes

makeste · 3 years ago

Text

BnHA Chapter 324: Is There a Force Field Around Him??

Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Rat Principal was all “please tell Midoriya that I spent a concerningly small amount of money upgrading U.A. into a wacky physics-defying funtime grid so as to make the final battle much more confusing for everyone.” Present Day!Mic (or Present!Mic, if you will) and Jeanist were all “if only somebody could deescalate this dangerously unhinged mob, we’ve tried nothing and we’re all out of ideas.” Ochako was all “LISTEN UP PEOPLE.” The mob was all, “god??” Ochako was all, “NO, IT’S ME, OCHAKO. I’M REALLY HIGH UP ON THIS BUILDING AND THE VISIBILITY IS LOW DUE TO THE RAIN, SO I CAN SEE HOW YOU MIGHT MAKE THAT MISTAKE. ANYWAYS, DEKU WAS OUT THERE RISKING HIS LIFE FOR YOU CLOWNS EVEN THOUGH HE’S JUST A KID, SO I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IF YOU COULD ALL REMEMBER HOW TO BE DECENT HUMAN BEINGS, THANKS.” Let’s see if her Big Scolding Energy has any impact.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “so I have this speech planned out, and it’s really good, but it also only really needs about 6 to 8 pages, but I’m gonna see if I can stretch it out to 17 pages so I can kill time before we get to the next volume cliffhanger two weeks from now.” Anyway but it really is a good speech though. There are feels, and tears, and more talk about how Deku is so in need of a shower that just looking at him requires a tetanus booster, and more feels, and more tears, and bonus ship drama, and an iconic callback to the very first chapter which reframes the entire series in a new context in a totally epic and moving way, and it’s all very good. Except that Horikoshi is determined to never let anyone actually give this kid a hug. Who hurt you, dude.

omg we are opening on a callback to chapter 212, a.k.a. the chapter with by far the cutest flashback that doesn’t involve any baby Todorokis

baby Ochako is lethally cute. she could literally murder someone with her cuteness. I just want to scoop her up and play airplane with her until she accidentally activates her quirk while we’re spinning around and we both helicopter up into the air never to be seen again

“a child’s insistence” huh well that’s all well and good, but I sure hope this doesn’t mean we’re going to drag out the whole “sternly lecture the obnoxious citizens” plot for another whole chapter. no offense but I think we’re good

so page 2 is just continuing the whole happy/worried faces monologue, which of course is very important to Ochako’s character as it provides the context for why “who protects the heroes” ended up becoming her thing. and this is making me think we actually are in for a whole second chapter of this sob. when will my boy finally get to rest

OH MY GOD SUDDENLY THESE PEOPLE HAVE EYES IMAGINE THAT

HORIKOSHI: [reaches for a box of tissues while tearfully penning an homage to his beloved Spider-Man 2, specifically the train scene where the crowd sees Peter without his mask and they suddenly realize just how young he is]

HORIKOSHI’S HOMAGE SCENE: “COME TO THINK OF IT, I GUESS IT WAS KIND OF MEAN FOR US TO PICK ON THIS TEN YEAR OLD KID WHO WEIGHS 75 POUNDS AND LOOKS LIKE HE LOST A FIGHT WITH SATAN’S MOLDY OLD BASEMENT”

lol at this one guy who can feel the mood of the crowd shifting and is all “WAIT, NO, I WANTED TO KEEP BEING AN ASSHOLE DAMMIT”

as many pointed out last week, this man is wearing an All Might shirt. that’s some fantastic irony there

-- SDKFJWIGKS

“LITTLE GIRL, I HOPE YOU’RE NOT SUGGESTING THAT WE SHOULD ALL BE WALKING AROUND DRESSED LIKE A SOVIET-ERA BUS STOP.” heh. last week I said I was ashamed of BnHA being my favorite manga. that was a lie, actually

(ETA: in the original Japanese Ochako’s next two lines are basically “the only ones covered in mud will be us heroes!” followed by “please give us some time to get rid of the mud”, with that second line basically being the single funniest thing I’ve ever read rdslkjl. Ochako thank you so much for supporting my running gags. “YEAH WE KNOW HE’S DIRTY. WE ARE GONNA TRY AND CLEAN HIM UP, BUT IT MAY TAKE A WHILE, I’M JUST SAYING. I MEAN LOOK AT HIM. HE LOOKS LIKE AN ASBESTOS COSPLAY.”)

doesn’t the megaphone kind of look ever so slightly like an axe that she’s wielding maniacally here

easy there Lizzie Borden

also that’s a really bold claim to make there. and not one she necessarily should have to make, either. but as we all know, there’s nothing that shounen manga likes more than having its heroes bravely hoist heavy burdens of responsibility like good self-sacrificing citizens

p.s. lowkey loving how Kacchan is positioned here standing slightly behind Deku. not presuming to stand in front of him all overprotectively (because he would hate if anyone ever did that to him), and kind of being unobtrusive and letting others take center stage -- but still being close enough to Deku that he can catch him if he stumbles or passes out again

(ETA: or maybe not lmao.

DEKU: [falls to his knees]

KACCHAN: [glancing up from his phone a few minutes later] “someone just sent me the stupidest meme about milk crates -- oh. uh. you good...?”

really, son. “the burdens you can’t carry, we’ll carry them for you. ...later, I mean. right now it’s late, and we’re all cold and wet.”)

also lowkey loving this OchaTsu moment here

I was going back and binging Ochako chapters this past week for reasons, and I gotta say it really stuck out to me just how often these two are paired with each other. they do everything together. it’s a really sweet friendship that often goes unappreciated but it’s very cute

meanwhile, not to be outdone by the OchaTsu, Iida is staring at Ochako with open admiration talking about how she’s fighting too. it’s been so long since we’ve had any IidaRaka you guys. I was starving and I didn’t even know it

oh my lord IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING

THE LIGHT IS BACK. he finally looks like him again. what a cathartic fucking moment omg

ffklkdw

“I KNOW YOU ARE ALL SCARED, BUT THE GOOD NEWS IS, WE DEFINITELY CANNOT GUARANTEE YOUR SAFETY AND WE ARE ALL SCARED TOO!” good pep talk there kiddo

BUT, jokes aside, truth be told this is the exact right approach to take imo, and something that’s long overdue. I’ve said this before, but this new generation of heroes is shaping up to be much more transparent than the All Might generation. they’re basically abandoning the almighty, untouchable Superman “heroes as gods” concept in favor of the more nuanced “heroes as people” concept instead. and that’s a good thing. seeing their heroes as humans, with human limitations and weaknesses and flaws, will hopefully not only lead to more scrutiny and accountability, but also more awareness of how hard some of them are working and how much they’re sacrificing. that’s something All Might never quite grasped back at the start of the series -- that the weak, vulnerable, injured him could be just as inspiring as the mighty, invincible him -- perhaps even more so. there’s a power in seeing otherwise ordinary people show extraordinary bravery and compassion. it inspires others to try and do the same

SSDLHK AIZAWA SIGHTING AAHHHHHH

so he was still back at the hospital this whole time?? smdh at this disrespect. that feeling when your sexy self-insert character’s powers of rationality are too strong, and so you have to nerf him so that he doesn’t ruin your Deku Angst arc twice over by (1) immediately talking some sense into Deku and making him come home Right This Instant Young Man, and (2) not allowing him to leave U.A. in the first fucking place. excuse me, you want to do WHAT now, Midoriya?? that’s it, go to your room

also living for Katsuki and Hawks’s soft expressions. Shouto’s too, although his is tinier and harder to see. and Jeanist’s 12-foot-long neck. imagine Jeanist’s head with Mic’s hair. maybe Jeanist had a mohawk back in the day and that’s why U.A.’s doors are so big now

speaking of soft faces, Enji’s is also excellent

what could this random close-up possibly imply?? hell if I know. but Horikoshi truly fears no discourse and that’s what I love about him

OMGGGG

“smh my child is so dumb.” poor Ochadad. your child is cute af count your blessings

SDOFFHSMH

I’m telling you guys. lethally, catastrophically cute

this speech is still ongoing lol. Horikoshi you’re doing so good but I think we get the point now my dude. you gotta learn how to transition out of these things

UNEXPECTED TOGA WHAT

“there we go” Horikoshi says, crossing off the last line on his list of Ochako ships. “that’s all of ‘em”

poor Ochako is just repeating the same “LET HIM REST, PLEASE, WITH EVERYONE’S COOPERATION, IF YOU DON’T MIND, WE APPRECIATE IT” talking points over and over again hoping someone will throw her a bone and acknowledge her already. SOMEONE PLEASE HELP HER

literally they’re all just staring up at her silently omg. work with me people!!

now she’s saying it for the 56th time but more dramatically all of a sudden

they got so dramatic that for a minute I thought she had suddenly leaped off the building or something

look, not to rush you or anything Horikoshi, but I’m starting to get the feeling that this is yet another one of those “the volume is ending soon so I need to either hurry things up or slow things down in order to make sure we end it on my perfect cliffhanger ending” chapters where you go to ridiculous lengths to drag things out much to the exasperation of your week-to-week readers

(ETA: ftr, volume 31 ended on chapter 306, and I’m predicting that vol. 32 will end with chapter 316 (a.k.a. “you’re next!” [explodes]). I’m guessing vol. 33 will follow suit and likely end on chapter 326, so keep your eyes peeled for a big cliffhanger in two weeks’ time. Deku’s dad?? All Might in peril?? U.A. traitor at long fucking last?? we shall see.)

is Deku straight up falling in love with Ochako right on the spot lol what is happening

I know I just said that I enjoy when Horikoshi gives zero fucks about discourse, but shipping discourse is a whole different beast lol. I hope he’s prepared

(ETA: and for the record, I have no interest in shipping discourse either, as always. and I think this scene can be interpreted as platonic, tbh, with the context being that Ochako was literally introduced as someone who was willing to help him so casually without a second thought, and now here she is saving him again.

I don’t think it really fully hit Deku until this moment how much he needed saving. like I said in another meta somewhere, selflessness is basically just selfishness on behalf of others. and Deku is selfless to a fault, but that’s okay, and it doesn’t mean he needs to change -- he just needs friends who are willing to be be selfish on his behalf in turn. and I think the full emotion of what it means to have friends like that just hit him at last. everything his friends have done for him, how much he needed it and didn’t even realize, and how grateful he is. anyways what a terrible day for rain.)

-- son of a --

is he apologizing?? or pleading?? please tell me that’s not the case, because what the actual fuck. Deku you beautiful precious radiant selfless child, this is the exact opposite of how this should be. all these motherfuckers should be on their knees apologizing to you

DEKU WHY

I DIDN’T ASK FOR THIS FREAKING BOMBARDMENT OF EMOTIONS GODDAMIT. OUT HERE ARMED WITH YOUR FREAKING TREBUCHET OF FEELS TO LAUNCH AT ME UNPROVOKED. WHAT’S WITH THAT

FREAKING CHRIST. THIS BOY IS CRYING HIS EYES OUT AND HORIKOSHI IS JUST ZOOMING IN WITH THE CAMERA, LIKE CAN WE JUST CUT HIM A BREAK ALREADY. ENOUGH OF THIS. HE’S SO YOUNG AND HE TRIES SO HARD AND I JUST NEED HIM TO FEEL SAFE, HORIKOSHI PLEASE CAN YOU JUST GIVE ME THAT ALREADY WHAT IS THE FREAKING HOLD UP!!

GIGANTIC FOX LADY!!!

GIGANTIC FOX LADY PLEASE BE MY HUGGER BY PROXY!! SERIOUSLY GIRL IF YOU JUST HOLD YOUR UMBRELLA OVER HIM OR SOMETHING AND DON’T GO THE EXTRA MILE I’M ABOUT TO LODGE AN OFFICIAL COMPLAINT. THIS IS GETTING RIDICULOUS NOW

!!!!

A KOUTA IS GOOD TOO!!! oh my god if Kouta hugs him I will seriously 100% straight up cry. go on and test me

FOR THE LOVE OF --

is this man expressly forbidden from drawing hugs in his contract or something. DO YOU DO IT JUST TO SPITE ME?? this is tyranny, sir

AND I KNOW, THIS PAGE ACTUALLY CHALLENGED THE VERY PREMISE OF THE SERIES ITSELF, AND HERE I AM COMPLAINING ABOUT HUGS, OR THE LACK THEREOF. “this is the story of how we all became the greatest heroes.” and just like that, he waves a polite middle finger at all of the Strongest Greatest Chosen One shounen protags of old, in favor of something much less conventional, much more interesting, and much more suited to Deku’s character. because if that one sentence doesn’t just sum up Deku to a T. he gladly relinquishes his Greatest Hero status in favor of acknowledging the hero in everyone. what a class act. that’s my protagonist

I love this kid so fucking much I swear. only just PLEASE. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. GIVE HIM HIS HUG

#bnha 324 #uraraka ochako #midoriya izuku #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

229 notes · View notes

soliverse · 4 years ago

Text

don’t call me - k.dy

(sequel to call me a fool. you can read this by itself, but some references would make more sense if you read the first part.)

reader x bestfriend!doyoung

genre: so much angst, slight fluff

warnings: none

word count: 3.85k

synopsis: Doyoung missed an important milestone in your life. Now, it’s your turn to miss his calls.

prompt:

Ghost Of You by 5 Seconds of Summer, part of the Heartbreak Hotel collab by @nct-writers

dedication to:

@hunjins for leaving witty comments during beta reading

@johnyusangel for being my guardian angel during beta and when I was dying over a migraine + Qian Kun

@hxneyy-latte for nursing me back to health lol

taglist: @kunrengui (sorry this took a while 😔), @leolo404 @byeolhyesisi @thesongofdragons

networks: @nctcreations @kdiarynet @kpopscape @kwritersworld @culture-cafe @neowritingsnet @neoswitchnet @czennienet @nct-writers

Every day, your routine starts with staring at your phone for a few hours before getting out of bed. You'd check in all of your messaging apps to see if any of them came from Doyoung. Sadly, there's none of it this morning.

You would drag your mopey ass out of bed and start the day with dread, questioning why he hasn’t replied to your last text. Then, as you brush your teeth, you would check once again to see if you missed anything while you are preoccupied with oral hygiene.

The inbox notifications would still say zero. And then you'd wait… and wait… and wait some more hours, even days before he replies back.

Every time Doyoung refuses to reply to your messages soon, you get this sudden urge to bang your head into a wall, cursing yourself for texting him in the first place. You will then start to question your life choices, why you even texted him in the first place when you knew this is bound to happen. And that you probably sounded too clingy, too cheesy for his liking. Your thoughts filled as to why he refused to reply as soon as he could.

You sighed and placed your phone back into your pocket and proceeded to go on with your day. The academy is about to open and you have practice for your upcoming recital the following day.

You kept your phone around your vicinity even as you practiced. It's a good thing that your vocal mentor isn't here to point out your mistakes, but you're trying to hit every note as clean as you can. A feat that is impossible to do when you're completely distracted by something.

Doyoung: Hey.

That one word is enough to wash all of the worries that you had earlier. You once again attempted to bang your head into the wall, now cursing yourself for changing your emotions so quickly.

You kept your phone back at your table, practicing for a few more minutes before answering the text. This time, you sang with a smile on your lips, the burden of your worries suddenly lifted with a single word.

But that's just how it always is with you and your best friend.

Now, if you can only tell him how you feel.

///

You bowed at everyone for doing a great job at practice. You happily fished out your phone from your pocket to reply to Doyoung's earlier text.

You: Are you free this Saturday?

You placed your phone down for a moment to fix your stuff, but a ding! interrupted you midway and you just couldn’t help but look at his reply.

Doyoung: Not at all. Need help with something?

Your smile grew wider and you texted the details of your recital for Saturday. You've worked on the piece so hard that you wanted to share your success with him, just like he would share his with you.

The rest of the day went smoothly. It was full of wishful thinking and daydreams. And if it goes well, it might be the day that you tell him about how you really feel about him.

///

It was the day of the recital and your hands were shaking out of nervousness. Your grip on the mic was getting tighter, if not sweatier, as you heard the crowds forming outside to see you and your classmates perform.

The soundcheck commenced and they started calling all the participants by their name as they came on stage. You heard nothing besides your own heartbeat and your loud thoughts whenever you overthink. But you reassured yourself that you will do a good job.

You had to. Someone was watching and you wanted to make him proud.

Fiddling on your seat, you waited for a few numbers before it was your turn. You nervously walked out the stage, and you were blinded by the lights coming from the back of the theater. It was probably for the good.

You couldn’t see anyone’s faces.

You couldn’t see his face.

Because if you could, you would’ve choked on your words and hit the notes wrong once again. Thankfully, the performance went better than you expected.

As soon as everyone came together for the curtain call, your eyes wandered to see Doyoung among the crowds. You scanned left and right, but there were no signs of him everywhere in the theater.

You consoled yourself with the fact that he probably went to the bathroom, or he was already backstage waiting for you. He couldn’t possibly miss this day, right?

The first thing that you did after coming down the stage was to have a closer look at the seats, just to make sure that he really was there in the crowd. Everyone else had their families with them, their friends, their lovers.

But there were no signs of Doyoung in the crowd.

You tried hard to smile as everyone who passed by you congratulated you for doing a great job. But once again, you were distracted. Your mind was occupied with thoughts that you never expected to have that day.

Did he really forget about you?

Giving up completely, you made your way back backstage and hid your impending tears to everyone. On your way, you saw Johnny, waving a small bouquet of flowers to get your attention. This sparked a tiny bit of hope in you. If Johnny was around, then Doyoung must have been here somewhere, too.

You ran towards Johnny and gave him the tightest bear hug. You were worried that no one really watched you perform today. Your family lives abroad and they couldn’t make it to watch you, but you promised them that you will send them a video of you singing. You were really counting on Doyoung not only to watch you perform, but to film your performance as well.

He must have been here somewhere.

“Thank God you came. I thought nobody saw me perform earlier,” you were once again on the verge of crying, but you didn’t have the heart to ask Johnny if Doyoung was indeed with him.

“Doyoung couldn’t make it today. He had to go out with the whole crew of his drama to celebrate their last day together. I came as soon as I heard about your performance.”

You fell quiet, breathing deep to hide your tears and your disappointment. But Johnny knew how you felt, so he pulled you tighter against him, completely encasing you completely on his embrace. “Don’t feel sad. You did so well today.”

///

Ever since then, you stopped taking calls from Doyoung. He would persistently call and text you every night to say sorry. Any other day, you would’ve been glad to see that finally, he’s the one that’s trying so hard to reach you. Sadly, you’re in no mood to talk to him.

You thought it would’ve been cruel if you blocked his number from your phone, so you instead tried to text him excuses why you couldn’t talk.

You were tired. You went out with a friend. You just wanted to take some rest.

After hitting send, you tossed your phone in your bed, still feeling upset about him missing such an important day to you. You felt set aside like you’re the last person on his priority list.

That day made you realize that you’re spending way too much energy on someone that doesn’t return the favor. It was an unhealthy behavior that you need to get out of your system as soon as possible, even if that means cutting Doyoung from your life temporarily.

///

Doyoung was surprised to see you at the front door of the 127 dorm one day. You tried smiling at him as he opened the door to let you in, pretending that you were not upset with him in the previous days.

“Surprised you’re not busy today,” you remarked as you sat down, clearly aiming at Doyoung who was now feeling lost at your coldness towards him.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“Not at all,” you tried your best to avoid his gaze because one look at your face would definitely give everything away. You didn’t want to lie to him, but it was better than saying that you were mad because you had feelings for him.

“Anyways, where’s Johnny? He invited me to watch a movie this afternoon.”

“Didn’t you tell me that you had practice today? That’s why you couldn’t meet me?”

You sneered internally.

“Yeah. Sometimes people say one thing and then they actually mean another thing. You of all people should know.”

You saw Johnny coming out of his room, fully dressed and ready for your movie night together. You waved one last goodbye at Doyoung, who just realized that you were roasting him the whole time.

///

The passive-aggressiveness went on for a few more occasions. You refused his attempts to talk to you, knowing full well that your cold facade would wear off instantly once you let him. You wanted to talk to him so bad, but your pride was preventing you from making any rash decisions. You couldn’t just go back to living your life as Doyoung’s doormat. But, as per Johnny’s advice, you got to explain to him why you were feeling that way. He at least deserved that much.

That explanation came sooner than you had expected.

You were spending a lot of time with Johnny lately, but only because he treats you like a little sister. He must’ve missed his own sister back at home, so he was making sure to take care of you as much as he could.

But Doyoung didn’t have to know that.

You had noticed the tension between the two of them whenever you would visit their dormitory. Johnny was just a bit irked at Doyoung because you were hurting, but he understood it from his perspective. He never knew how you felt in the first place, he wouldn’t have known how much he hurt you in the process.

What goes on in Doyoung’s brain though, you have no idea. He usually just stays away from the both of you whenever you’ve come to visit them, maybe throw in a couple of pleasantries before asking you to hang out with him once again. You kept on telling him that you will once you’re not busy with the academy, and then proceeds to forget about it on that same day.

One day, he’s finally had enough and decided to block the door when you were about to leave the dorm room.

"There's nothing to talk about Doyoung."

You tried to step out once again, but he didn't even budge from his place.

"Can you just tell me what I did? I already said sorry about not attending your recital. What else do you want me to do?"

You lowered your head and tried to leave again, determined not to answer his questions. But he's just as stubborn as you are, this time pushing you slightly, just enough to make you step back.

Your fists formed into a ball and your lips pursed in annoyance. Why does he care about you so much now that you're staying away from him?

"Let me leave, Doyoung. Johnny is waiting for me," you said as calmly as you could.

"Is that it? You're replacing me with Johnny? Just because of that one mistake? What kind of friendship is that?" Doyoung's voice went up a few notches, now looking as visibly upset as you are.

"I can't be your friend anymore, Doyoung," silence filled the room as soon as you said that statement. You both stare at each other awkwardly, both of you are still in a state of shock.

"I don't think this is the perfect time to tell you this, but you have to know eventually," grasping the straps of your handbag, you braced yourself for what you were about to say.

"I have feelings for you Doyoung. That's why I was so hurt that you didn't attend the recital," you paused for a bit, biting your lower lip to hold yourself back from tearing up.

"It made me realize that my life, everything about me, revolves around you. I would literally drop everything when you say you need me. And yet, I'm so far away from your priority list that you can't even sit down for a few minutes to watch me perform," you felt a bit of moisture from your cheeks. Tears were already falling from your face without you even realizing it.

You wiped your tears away with your sleeves and you held yourself back from sobbing to proceed to talk.

"But it's not your fault. I was the one at fault for lending you my time, and I was the one at fault for setting high expectations for someone who just treats me as a friend," you smiled weakly as you walked towards him one last time.

"So for now, I can't be your friend anymore. Not until I sort my feelings out and make things more awkward for us. Give me time for myself, Doyoung. I'll try to be a better friend soon."

You smiled as you lowered your head once again, your shoulders brushing over when you left the room. You didn't try to look back and walked as fast as possible, holding yourself together just before you reached the exit.

You ran out of their apartment building and as soon as you found a place where you can hide, you finally let yourself go. You sat there balling your eyes out and looked around for signs of your best friend. When you realized that he didn't even make an effort to comfort or follow you, your sobs got even louder as you sat down on the pavement to hug your knees.

"Go on... Let it out."

Someone sat down with you and started patting your back to comfort you. You raised your head and cleared the hair strands that stuck to your face to see who it is. It was Johnny.

"I saw everything that happened. I'm happy that you finally told him."

He rubbed your shoulders to calm you down once again, offering you his handkerchief so you could wipe your tears out. Once you finally managed to stop crying, he stood up from his seat and placed his hands on the pockets of his hoodie.

"If you need to cry all day, I'll be here."

///

Doyoung proved that your presence left a big mark that he never realized before. He thought he was just confused at first, or that he was just getting used to not being able to contact you whenever he could.

Just that evening, he was having a hard time memorizing the new choreography for their comeback. He kept on messing up one of the killing parts and everyone was frustrated that they couldn't move on to the other parts of the choreography. He felt sorry for everyone, so he left practice early to work on it himself without burdening the other members. His first instinct was the grab his phone and listen to your soothing voice, telling him to cheer up and that he will do better tomorrow.

But as soon as he was about to hit the dial button, it pained him to press the back button instead, stuffing the phone into his sweatpants and he wiped the sweat off of him.

He felt very heaviness, even more, when he was changing, basically ripping the door of his locker as he took its contents to rid himself of the uncomfortable feeling of sweat. He was both mad and upset at the same time, almost ripping a part of his shirt when he was about to put it on.

He hasn't felt like this in a very long time and he needed a way to get things off of his chest. But without you to do it, it was practically impossible.

He grabbed his matching hat and jacket, stuffing his dirty clothes on his backpack and he made his way out of the building.

He made sure that no one saw him in that state, especially Haechan, who gave him so much shit when everybody found out about your confession.

"Everyone knew, you dumbass."

He just wished somebody would've told him sooner, but he knew it wasn't their place to tell him about it. He felt stupid for not realizing it sooner.

His heavy footsteps dragged him to the ramen shop that you used to go to together. He stopped coming here when he lost contact with you, and instead of making him feel better, it made him even more upset upon the reminder of how he fucked up. But he needed a way to make himself feel better. Ramen worked back then. Maybe it would work right now.

He made the choice to not sit down at your usual spot, the one closest to the kitchen so you would get your meals as soon as you could. He instead opted for one of the corners. It felt awkward, but he was there to eat, not enjoy the ambiance. He ordered a bowl to himself, something that he wasn't used to seeing on the table. The bowl of ramen looked so empty on the table by itself, and so he ordered a lot of side dishes with a few bottles of soju to comfort himself.

To his surprise, he was served by the same auntie that used to tease you and him before when the two of you used to go to this place. He hoped that she wouldn't recognize and ask for your whereabouts, but he was very unlucky that day.

"Oh. It's been a while since I saw you! How are you?"

Doyoung just bowed to the auntie and told him that he was fine and that he missed eating there for the longest time.

"I'm glad that I finally get to see you! You missed your friend though, she just left earlier."

He was put to a halt. Something about you being mentioned sparked something in him. Although, he wasn't able to pinpoint what that feeling was at that time.

"I think she was showing the place to another friend of yours. The big guy ate a lot, so we're worried for a bit that we’re about to close early for today."

Doyoung felt his heart sink, but he still bowed and thanked the auntie for the meal.

He stared at the contents of his table for a while, but you would always remind him that the soup tasted better when it's still hot. For some reason though, the bowl of ramen wasn't as tasty as it used to be. He used to finish bowls of that same ramen before, but he couldn't even manage to finish one. He knew better than to waste food though, so he forced himself to eat the rest of it and jumped out of there as soon as he could.

The ramen certainly didn't make him feel better.

///

It's been weeks and the first thing that Doyoung did after waking up was to open his phone for messages. There were a few of them, most of it coming from the other members, but he wasn't interested in reading in any of them.

Getting out of bed seemed harder than usual. He felt a few pounds heavier, which meant he either gained weight or he just lost the will to get up from his bed.

He tried not to stare at his phone as he brushed his teeth, so he kept them hidden in his pocket and used all of his wills to not check on it every hour.

He noticed that there was a bit of commotion coming from outside. He paid no attention and went back to his usual morning routine, getting ready for a separate schedule that he had that morning. He went to his room to get dressed and pack the things that he may need that day. Once everything was done, he went to the kitchen to tell everyone that he was going, but he was met with something else instead.

The rest of the boys were gathered up around the table, enjoying breakfast that he assumed that you made. You just stood there happily as you served everyone pieces of the omelet that you made. You turned around in his direction and he was met with that smile that he missed so much.

"Doie, would you like some?"

The nickname made him flinch. It was something that you never used on him before, but it was enough to make him look away and step out of the room immediately.

"I'm good. I just came to say goodbye to everyone."

"Oh good!" you said as you gathered your things and stuffed them neatly in your tote bag. "I just came here to drop some food because this guy said that he wasn’t feeling well. Let's go together," you said as you tiptoed your way out of the tight kitchen, messing Johnny's hair before you finally stepped out of the room.

"Let's go?" you asked giddily as you grabbed Doyoung's arm and waved to everybody goodbye. He finally realized what you must've felt when it was the other way around.

The walk towards the bus stop was a quiet one. None of you dared to talk. But he noticed that the spring of your step is back, if not better than before. Meanwhile, he was just walking there awkwardly, not knowing what to say to you because of how he left things the last time that you talked. He wanted to talk to you for the longest time, but he respected your wishes to be alone. Now he was regretting making that decision.

The both of you stood there at the nearest bus stop, the atmosphere is even quieter since it was just the two of you standing there.

"I missed you Doie," you spoke, breaking the silence between you too.

"I was hoping that we can talk right after this. You know, just to clear the air."

He remained quiet in his place, not really knowing how to respond to her.

"Meet me at the ramen place later?"

"Sure," Doyoung almost hit himself for answering so soon. To him, he sounded very eager to eat with you once again.

The bus finally arrived and you stepped inside, making your way into the seat. His stare lingered at you for a while, to see if you would look around like how you always did when he sent you home. You took those same steps, hesitating at the eighth one to see if he still stuck around to look at you.

You hesitantly sat back down in your seat, unsure as to whether he finally looked back at you when you were about to leave.

You never saw him though, because he asked you to sit down and within a split second, he was gone from your view.

Guess you're just gonna have to find out tonight.

xxx

244 notes · View notes

twentiethcenturymoviesandtv · 3 years ago

Text

Episode Spotlight: M*A*S*H, Season 1, Episode 17: Sometimes You Hear the Bullet

Frank Burns throws his back out and applies for a Purple Heart. Meanwhile, Hawkeye Pierce meets, and later operates on, an old friend and struggles with the decision of whether or not to send an underaged soldier home.

More than halfway through season 1, M*A*S*H wasn’t exactly killing in the ratings. The show wasn’t quite sure of itself yet, with tons of recurring characters that would end up dropped and other characters not yet added to the main cast. Airing at eight o’clock on Sunday nights, M*A*S*H was, at this stage in the game, a relatively normal sitcom, albeit one with a bit sharper sense of humor.

That all changed with Sometimes You Hear the Bullet.

I’ll show you what I mean.

The episode starts humorously enough: Major Frank Burns throws his back out during a rendezvous with Major Houlihan. He is placed into traction, where he applies for a Purple Heart for his ‘injury’. Meanwhile, Hawkeye is visited by an old friend and kindred irreverent spirit: Corporal Tommy Gillis, a journalist who signed up for the front lines as he writes his book: You Never Hear the Bullet, a book meant to be written from a soldier’s point of view, instead of a reporter’s.

A helicopter full of wounded arrive at the unit, and Gillis returns to his post.

Among the wounded is a young man with a burst appendix, a Private Wendell Petersen, who is very anxious to get back to the front lines. Hawkeye tells him that he has to rest for a few days before returning to his unit. This doesn’t stop Wendell from attempting to steal an army jeep to try to get back, afraid that he was going to be sent home.

After talking with him, Hawkeye figures out the truth: Wendell Petersen is actually Walter Peterson, and he’s not even sixteen years old.

It turns out that Walter posed as his brother, Wendell, and entered the war to impress his girlfriend back home by returning with a medal. He begs Hawkeye to keep his secret, and, after returning him to his bed, Hawkeye agrees.

Shortly, more wounded arrive, and among them is Tommy Gillis. Hawkeye operates on him, but even his best is not enough, and he dies on the operating table after telling Hawkeye that he did hear the bullet. Hawkeye tries to revive him, but Colonel Henry Blake orders him to move on to save another life.

Afterwards, Hawkeye breaks down crying.

“Henry, I know why I’m crying now. Tommy was my friend, and I watched him die, and I’m crying. I’ve watched guys die almost every day. Why didn’t I ever cry for them?”

“Because you’re a doctor.”

Hawkeye asks what that means, and Henry answers with one of the greatest lines in the show’s history.

“I don’t know. If I had the answer, I’d be at the Mayo Clinic. Does this place look like the Mayo Clinic? Look, all I know is what they taught me at command school. There are certain rules about a war. And rule number one is young men die. And rule number two is, doctors can’t change rule number one.”

Right then and there, Hawkeye decides to change rule number one in some small way, and calls the MPs on Private Wendell, really Walter, outing the fact that he’s underage. Walter, outraged, tells Hawkeye that he’ll never forgive Hawkeye for the rest of his life.

Hawkeye replies: “Let’s hope it’s a long and healthy hate.”

In one final scene (one that’s usually cut from syndication), Henry Blake begins to present Frank with his Purple Heart, only to find it replaced with a purple earring, while outside, Hawkeye pins the Purple Heart on Walter to make up for turning him in, sending him home, but home a hero.

The end.

Sometimes You Hear the Bullet is considered one of M*A*S*H’s best episodes for a reason. This is an early episode, one that is regarded as a tone and trend setter for the rest of the series in terms of both storyline balance (one or two serious plotlines, one humorous), and content itself, one of the first episodes to sit down and truly explore the characters within this tragic situation. At this moment, M*A*S*H ceased being a comedy show and became a dramedy, with one of the most memorable moments and exchanges in the show’s long history.

While this episode may seem like a standard half-hour of television, at the time, especially for this show, it was something different. It was no longer a slapstick grittier Hogan’s Heroesque irreverent comedy about soldiers, it was a show about a group of people stuck in the middle of a war, with death all around them. And no matter how good Hawkeye, or any of the doctors, are at their jobs, they’ll never be able to save everyone.

It’s sobering, but it’s a truth that the show had, for the first time, truly explored, and it’s that initial exploration, that glimmer of what this show was going to become, that puts this episode under so much recognition: Sometimes You Hear the Bullet was the warning sign, the first moment that the writers got a handle on the show that would become a classic.

Of course, it has it’s problems.

Not tonal ones, at least, not exactly. Throughout its entire run, M*A*S*H often had two or three plots going, one serious, one humorous. This is a smart strategy: balance out the dark with the light, giving each episode a more even feeling instead of being too much one or the other. Although the show would get darker and more serious as time went on, the writers never abandoned this plan, allowing M*A*S*H to remain a consistent dramedy throughout the show’s run, keeping the audience laughing and crying at the same time.

In the case of Sometimes You Hear the Bullet, the ‘funny’ subplot is obvious: Frank Burns and his Purple Heart. The other two storylines are the serious ones: Hawkeye’s friend, as well as the underaged soldier. However, in most cases, as in this one, these plotlines inevitably intersect, and it’s here that this particular episode might cause a few problems.

I mentioned that the final scene in the episode is typically cut from syndication: the sequence where Frank’s purple heart is stolen and given to the underaged soldier, instead. While this scene may not, at first, seem inherently out of place within the context of the rest of the episode, swinging from comedy to drama within a minute, there are those who believe that this scene unintentionally undermines the rest of the episode, or the main thrust established a few moments earlier.

And those people aren’t exactly wrong.

I certainly agree that the episode would have been stronger had it ended with the soldier’s final interaction with Hawkeye been proclaiming his hatred, only for Hawkeye to soberly respond that he hopes it’s a long and healthy hate. Changing that to this new ending, where Hawkeye sends him home with a medal, seems almost out of character for Hawkeye, taking away some of the sincerity and severity of the message just a moment earlier. The idea that this soldier could bring himself to forgive Hawkeye so soon, before realizing what exactly he’d been saved from, seems a little disingenuous after the weight previously given to this subplot.

In later episodes, it’s possible, even probable that this episode wouldn’t have ended tied in such a neat bow. But that’s one of the things that’s so interesting about this episode.

Sometimes You Hear the Bullet isn’t the first episode of ‘true’ M*A*S*H as it would be remembered in the future, but it is the first episode where M*A*S*H comes into its own themes, looking hard at war, and the toll it takes not only on the soldiers, but on the surgeons, as well. Before this, for the most part, ‘characters’, friends of the cast, did not die on the operating table. Not when Hawkeye could save him.

But I’m going to quote Hawkeye from another season 1 M*A*S*H episode, Yankee Doodle Doctor, as I think that it sums up this the point of this episode pretty well:

“Three hours ago, this man was in a battle. Two hours ago, we operated on him. He’s got a 50-50 chance. We win some, we lose some. That’s what it’s all about. No promises. No guaranteed survival. No saints in surgical garb. Our willingness, our experience, our technique are not enough. Guns, and bombs, and anti-personnel mines have more power to take life than we have to preserve it. Not a very happy ending for a movie. But then, no war is a movie.”

That right there is the point of Sometimes You Hear the Bullet, to the point where the doomed Tommy Gillis even references the film tropes of a young, fresh-faced kid hearing the bullet that kills him. This is the message that Hawkeye must grapple with: he cannot save everyone.

No matter how much he knows, how good he is, he can never save everyone. No guaranteed survival.

It’s sobering, but it’s the truth. And it’s what makes this episode so memorable.

M*A*S*H at this point was still mostly a comedy, a series full of jokes and the occasional serious moment, and it would continue to be so for another few years. But it was this episode, episode seventeen of the first season, that signaled to audiences that this show could be more than that. It could make you laugh, sure, but it could make you cry, and it wasn’t that surprising: this was war.

In short: by itself, is Sometimes You Hear the Bullet one of the greatest episodes of television, or even M*A*S*H, ever written? Maybe. Maybe not. But what it is, without much doubt, is the first sign of maturity in a show that had a lot of growing up to do.

Whether the shift was instantaneous or not, the fact is, Sometimes You Hear the Bullet was a game changer in the show’s history, the first break in format that truly showed audiences what they could expect in the years ahead.

On top of that? It’s just a good episode.

The plot balance is decent, without too much mood-whiplash that could so easily occur in a war dramedy. The characters, decently familiar to audiences by now, all work off of each other just as well as ever, funny, interesting, and heartfelt in turn. It’s an example of early M*A*S*H at it’s best, overshadowing many first season episodes with a level of depth previously mostly unexplored, delivering on every scene and remaining mostly genuine. It’s an engaging episode, full of memorable moments that are thoughtful and earnest, making this episode a standout, a moment in television history, and an unmissable installment for avid watchers of M*A*SH, and television fans in general.

Don’t forget that the comment box is always open for anything from suggestions and discussion ideas to questions and conversations! Thank you guys so much for reading, and I hope to see you guys in the next article.

28 notes · View notes

katsidhe · 4 years ago

Note

could you do 9.10 and 9.13 for episode reviews.

Love your takes btw.

9.10 Final Thoughts

well, well, well, if it isn’t my old friend season 9. God I love season 9. buckle in.

Plenty of what season 9 tries to do with angel drama falls flat, but plenty of it doesn’t. It’s at its strongest when interrogating the ways that the angels are looking for personal purpose, rather than folding themselves into various suit-clad factions. In this episode, we have Gadreel, Abner, and Thaddeus, all with very different takes.

Thaddeus is the most boring of the three—a straightforward narcissist and sadist. (Lucifer will follow in his rockstar-impersonating footsteps in s12. SPN clearly has a dim view of the music industry.) We don’t care when he dies, and we aren’t meant to.

Abner’s found a family, and he’s let go of revenge. He’s clearly found peace and happiness—but it’s stolen. I’m ambivalent about this. I guess I could take his word that his vessel was abusive and therefore deserves to have been permanently body-snatched, and I guess I could believe him when he says his new family loves him, even though they clearly don’t know what he is or what he’s done. His regard for humanity as something other than a project is… uncertain. Even if everything is as sunny as he explains to Gadreel, there is fundamental selfishness and short-sightedness here. Get what you want, Abner says, and never let go.

Gadreel asks Abner if his vessel is happy. This reveals both Abner’s scorn for his vessel, and Gadreel’s uncomfortable awareness of and respect for Sam (and his bartender vessel, who Gadreel stares at, and who accepts Gadreel back easily).

Gadreel! OF COURSE Gadreel’s gotta be the scapegoat for Lucifer’s release, HAHAHAH. I love him to pieces, oml. Seriously, the Sam parallels could not BE more blatant. I’ve talked about this before, that it makes the earned antipathy between them all the more alarming, all the more visceral. The big sticking point is that Gadreel’s years of pointless torture came prior to his “redemption” arc, rather than as a consequence of it. Gadreel has all of s5 Sam’s despair and helpless anger and self-loathing, all of his drive to set things right at any price, and all of it is amplified by his trauma.

Sam and Gadreel’s relationship is defined by its liminal spaces. Gadreel threatens to tear Sam apart, but he does not, even when he is tortured. He locks Sam away in a dream rather than force him to watch him kill, or to suffer. But when Sam forces Gadreel out, Gadreel leaps instantly on telling Sam he is weak, reciting back Sam’s fears and Gadreel’s own. This reads like Gadreel is aiming quite a lot of his own self-pity and self-hatred at Sam.

Cas’s murderous rage at Gadreel when his identity is revealed is fun. It shows that Heaven’s PR team did a good job, for one thing. But Cas is furious because it’s specifically Lucifer. And the Apocalypse, and all the attendant suffering, his and Dean’s and Sam’s. It’s a personal wrath.

“Stupid for the right reasons…” oh, Cas, your scarcity of positive human role models is showing. Also, Cas’s particular brand of reassurance here isn’t actually something Dean has a problem with. He expresses regret over having been tricked—he says he’s stupid, he says he got played—but he’s never in doubt that his intentions were good. He’s never in doubt that he did the righteous thing. He’s never in doubt that he’d do it again.

Dean apologizes to Cas for barring him from the bunker. (Sam will not receive an apology.) Cas compares what Dean did to Sam to what Cas did by trusting Naomi. There’s a key difference here. Cas’s moral compass is not the problem; it’s his critical thinking skills.

Crowley, Cas, and Dean are a hilarious trio. (Also, I really hope that Cas’s pimpmobile got to Heaven too, like the Impala.)

Crowley being genuinely sorry that Kevin’s gone and his willingness to risk his life to help Sam are the best two moments of the generally weak Crowley-has-human-blood plot line. They feel earned. [also Crowley’s ‘I told Kevin he should’ve run!’ is both accurate, funny, and sad.]

Let’s talk 4.21 parallels! I mean, first, the glaringly obvious: Sam locked down to be purged of something supernatural; Sam suffering; Dean unable to bear Sam’s tortured screams; a very atmospheric fan. Dean walking away.

and then, of course, there’s “at least he dies human.” Right off the bat, Dean tells Cas he’s going to kill Gadreel. Cas, concerned, says that this will kill Sam too; Dean, sounding tortured, says he knows. Now, obviously, Dean doesn’t kill Sam. He doesn’t even get particularly close. But it’s really interesting that this is the first thing Dean brings up! He declares unprompted that he’s ready to kill Sam rather than leave him possessed. Which is both a recapitulation of the save-him-or-kill-him mantra, and an ironic twist on the decision Dean made in 9.01. Then, Dean knew Sam would rather die than be possessed, but had him possessed anyway. Now, Dean has decided instead that Sam must die because he is possessed. Obviously Dean’s opinion on the possessing entity has changed in the meantime: Sam’s hasn’t, but Sam’s isn’t what matters.

Dean reaches new levels of PEAK IRONY when he declares that Cas should possess Sam too. Cas has to actually point out that Dean can’t, in fact, volunteer Sam’s permission. Because apparently Dean had forgotten, lmaooo. Crowley, on the other hand, is happy to oblige. Dean directs Cas to burn Sam’s tattoo off.

The language of this entire scene is so sexual. I mean, it’s Crowley, of course it is, double entendre is his first language. But this theme recurs again and again. Here it is just more pointed than usual. It is queasy.

Gadreel has Sam trapped in a Dean-type happy place—a hunt with ghouls and cheerleaders, no organic produce to be found. And I don’t think it’s because Gadreel doesn’t understand what Sam likes. I think it’s because Gadreel’s aim was for Sam to feel comfortable, not blissful. It smacks of Hallucifer, just a bit—using the verisimilitude of Dean’s louder moods rather than trying to appeal directly to Sam’s contentment, because of his always questionable, always a question, sense of reality. If things were too smooth, too cheerful, Sam might just be suspicious. Sam is easier to trick by proxy.

The HORROR of this episode for Sam: Gadreel washing someone’s blood off of Sam’s hands. Crowley pushing needles into his brain. Sam’s body and life as a bargaining chip as Gadreel threatens to kill him, and then as Dean threatens to kill him right back. The quiet heartbreak as Sam remembers Kevin’s death, as he realizes the magnitude of Dean’s betrayal. But the worst part of it, I think, is somehow still Sam’s face when Crowley comes to get him in the dream where Gadreel stashed him. How his expression just crumples as Crowley tells him he is trapped in a lie, that his mindscape is once again a prison, that he truly cannot trust his reality. The sheer devastation of this on top of Sam’s history, plus the knowledge that Dean did this—and he pulls himself together and puts his foot on Gadreel’s neck and casts him OUT anyway. Sam Fucking Winchester.

and then the Bridge Scene. The lighting, the staging… it’s fucking gorgeous. It’s one of those scenes where I knew as I was watching it for the first time, seven years ago, that it was going to be something. I held my breath and still hold my breath. I can’t take my eyes off the way that Sam is shaking slightly, the entire time. The way he can barely meet Dean’s eyes but he does it anyway. He SAYS HIS PIECE, says it clearly, says it with an even tone despite what he’s gone through, despite the holes in his head that were healed seconds ago.

I love the gentleness between Sam and Cas here. I love knowing that 9.11 follows this. I love that there is no question that Cas will leave with Dean—he is staying with Sam, to heal and support him, even after he spent this episode mostly reassuring Dean.

Dean does not start this conversation to apologize. He starts out with the intent to DELIBERATELY egg Sam on: “come on, let’s hear it.” It’s an incitement, because Dean wants Sam to act angry, so that Dean can feel more justified in leaving. Sam does not rise to the bait.

Dean has an excuse for every point Sam has: I had no choice, you were dying, it’s not in me, he saved your life. He says, “I did a bad thing with bad consequences and I would 100% do it again, anyway, bye.”

And then the most infuriating thing: Dean is in the wrong, so he tells the person he’s wronged, ugh, I’m just such an awful poisonous person, I’m going to burn for this. It’s so clearly wrong-headed. Intentional or not, it’s such an obvious invitation for Sam to comfort him that it might well have been embossed. If this were in e.g. season 15, or if the crime he’d committed had been less awful, I can easily hear Sam’s reassurance: no, Dean, I promise you’re a good person, we all make mistakes. It is the most toxic way possible to frame a potential apology.

The textual theme of Dean-as-poison (and, for that matter, the consequence of Kevin’s death vs. the initial crime of the possession) is an intentional muddying of the waters: Crowley, Cas, and Dean himself all bring it up in some fashion, linking some fundamental aspect of Dean himself rather than Dean’s choices to Kevin’s death. Crowley is trying to be cutting; Cas is trying to be supportive; Dean is both excusing himself and camouflaging that fact in his exhausting self-loathing. There is a complicated interplay of what the text says about Dean’s guilt and what it condemns; this pattern continues throughout s9, and reaches its apex in the next several episodes. Dean’s love as a condemning feature rather than a redeeming one is one of my favorite things about SPN, and s9 has it in HIGH gear.

But, here, at least, Sam doesn’t rise to this bait either. “Don’t go thinking that’s the problem, ‘cause it’s not.” The problem is obviously, achingly, exhaustingly clear. Sam’s spelled it out in this very conversation: you tricked me. You lied to me. You got me possessed when I was willing to die. But Dean, and a fair portion of the audience, can’t hear it. So he doesn’t. And they don’t, and they pretend that this line is some sort of puzzle! a cliffhanger on a conversation unfinished! when it was the conclusion, not the beginning.

image that is now inextricable from 9.10

#9.10 #final thoughts #I have even more to say tbh #sam and cas #sam and dean #dean and cas #sam and gadreel #sam and crowley #sam and possession #sam and abuse #dean and self-hatred #sam and forgiveness #sam and mindscapes #sam and trauma #blahdose

88 notes · View notes

lovesanmotion · 4 years ago

Text

yandere!ateez fanboy series: yeosang

He wasn’t a fan of Korean people dancing and singing to cute, lively pop songs or to sultry songs on stage. Though he did enjoy watching Korean dramas (ashe was influenced by his best friend) Yeosang pretty muched preferred to the beat of Western songs. He would create his own choreography and upload them on his Youtube. And that was it. But his parents ridiculed him for being jobless, dancing couldn’t get him anywhere. Let alone, making money out of it. His parents, specifically his father, was so ashamed of him. He ran away from his home, vowing to come back when he can finally slam large amounts of money on his parents’ table in the living room.

With the help of his friends, he was able to secure a job for himself at an entertainment company that was fairly new. Even if he didn’t knew which groups houses this company, it was better enough. He didn’t know that he would instantly be taking home millions of Korean wons in a day and actually went back to his house and slammed the money he earned on his parents’ table. But he didn’t moved back there. He found himself living in one of the top buildings in Seoul. Much better right?

It was until he was introduced to Starlight and met Y/N. ‘What a beauty she is’ Yeosang thought to himself. He found himself in a bar with a two older sponsors in the company and in front of them is the seven member Starlight girl group. He was the youngest sponsor in the private table, and was it considered normal if the girl group paid more attention to him than the older ones?

“Yeosang-ah, if you had to pick which one would you bring home, who would it be?” The sponsor asked. Yeosang gulped, chuckling nervously before he could take a look at each member.

“Y/N” he says proudly. That night, he took her home. But nothing happened between the two of them. That night, they only talked about Y/N’s pre idol life and Yeosang found himself falling her. As someone who has been through a lot, surely he would grant her all the fame and fortune she deserves. And after that fateful encounter, Y/N rose to fame. Completely shadowing the other members.

Yeosang started off giving gifts to Y/N, sending her dresses from luxury brands to spending millions of wons for a car to be sent to Y/N to actually seeing her send her off to schedules. He felt like a leech attached to her, not being able to function without seeing her. He knew it was wrong, but it felt good seeing and being with her.

And then, he started to send her odd gifts. A box full of dead butterflies, garden insects and eerie love letters. Y/N stopped responding to his gifts and he felt so heartbroken. But he didn’t want that, he was the one who has the authority and he demands obedience from Y/N.

And so on the next night of their meet up, Yeosang locked the doors after her. Refusing to let her leave his place if she didn’t agreed to becoming his.

“Mr. Kang, I think we should stop meeting already.” Y/N’s spoke in a small tone. Yeosang had the mood set up, from lighting candles to slightly dimming the lights and sipping wine.

“Why do you think so?” He asks in a blank tone.

“I..I’m getting scared now. My members are getting scared for me too. Whenever I tell the agency about this, they only tell me to be greatful for you-” but Yeosang had cut her off.

“And as you should. If you were using that pea sized brain of yours you would be thankful to me that I gave you all those cfs, guest appearance and those gifts I sent you. Tell me, with the total amount that you and your group made from your debut up to this day, do you think you can pay off the money I had spent for you?” Y/N couldn’t speak up about this and stayed quiet.

“Thought so.” Yeosang says before bringing up a small back on his face.

“Be a good girl for me and only listen to me.” He says, inching closer to her as his lips ghosts over on the shell of her ear.

“Strip and then I’ll give you a yearly award win.” Yeosang whispers, ghosting his lips down on the side of her neck.

And Y/N did as she was told.

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez yandere #ateez yeosang #kpop yandere #kpop scenarios #yandere ateez #yandere

98 notes · View notes

i-did-not-mean-to · 3 years ago

Text

Black - Chapter 10

Here's a chapter that was exceedingly fun to write. I hope you enjoy it :D

@legolasbadass I have officially tagged you in something, now, go back to writing 😂

Fandom: The Hobbit

Characters : Thorin x OC, the rest, special mention for Dwalin being a cutie

Words: 5,5 k

Rating: Mature

Warnings: blood, reference to bodily harm, reference to God, ALSO: I am a drama queen *shrug*

“I think you are being unreasonable.” Faith shook her head at him. “Who? Uncle?” Kíli sauntered up to them, bowing crisply to her and adding: “I came to check on you, but I see our own dragon is guarding you jealously.”

“Get dressed, woman, if that one is here, the others are not far behind.” Thorin grumbled and blocked the view of his much too curious nephew while Faith was huddled in the corner of her room, slipping into her chemise and an old rough spun dress she had found in the pile of clothes that were left to her.

Faith had to admit that Thorin might have been right when other dwarrows presented themselves as well in front of her door, “to check on her” as if she was as sickly kitten. “Dori sends me with tea.” Ori mumbled, holding a literal pot of tea in his gloved hands.

“That is ever so kind.” Faith smiled, pouring the rest of her wine back into the carafe and extending the mug to the sweet dwarrow hovering just outside her door. Apparently, there was indeed something unseemly about crossing the threshold of an unmarried woman as an unmarried man. She wondered if that would have been the same if the townspeople of her home had lived. As it was, she would never know, but there was something quite touching in the pile-up of dwarrows outside her room.

“Oh, you’re holding court like a real queen. What is uncle unreasonable about?” Kíli silenced the others by almost screaming.

“Mistress Faith was on her way to bed when you barged in like a fool.” Thorin muttered, obviously in a cantankerous mood.

“She was not, she was berating you!” Kíli replied petulantly. “I don’t think your uncle, the king, should be camped outside of my door.” Faith intervened with an explanation.

“Why don’t you just bolt the door?” The lad asked, scratching his head. When she explained that she couldn’t open the door on her own and that she didn’t like feeling locked in, he gave his uncle a short nod and shrugged: “In that case, uncle is not being unreasonable at all. Let me know if you want company, I can sit with you.”

Faith was speechless. “You are a guest, and we’ll keep you safe.” Kíli said with an easy smile.

“I am safe.” Faith protested. “You are now because you have uncle outside your door. And us.” Kíli winked at her with that youthful pride and confidence that made her heart swell. Oh, bless that kid, she thought, may the stars align for him and bring him endless happiness.

“There you are!” Dwalin came barrelling down the corridor. “Me?�� She was taken aback and tiny bit startled.

“No, not you, Mistress. That oaf, the king.” Dwalin nodded to her with what might have been a smile, Faith was not entirely sure and conversed in low, murmured words with Thorin. Faith just sat and listened to the sound of it, weirdly calmed and comforted by the rough elegance of their very own, secret language.

“Mistress Faith? Ah, there comes Fíli.” Faith scrambled to her feet and curtsied for the heir to the throne who presented her with a small cake. “We apologise humbly for having led you astray and for risking your good name. And for annoying you about uncle, we didn’t tell mother everything, but she was not happy either way.” The prince laughed. Faith was impressed by how resolutely and soberly he admitted fault and tried to redress his potential missteps; she understood that their social life had been an unsteady and uncertain thing and that it had been a priority to make them valuable fighters rather than charming courtiers.

Nonetheless, she admired them for their light-hearted honesty as much as for their supposed prowess.

“You’ve given us sweets and now, we give you cake. That makes us friends, doesn’t it? Ah, I see Dori has sent his little brother with that disheartening brew of his.” Fíli declared, commenting casually on the scene he had stumbled upon. Amongst humans, this would have been a childish thing to say, Faith thought, but she realised that he extended an invitation to her, and she was thankful for it. As she was a stranger in their realm, the declaration of a bond between them would protect her, shield her, most probably keep her alive against all odds. It was easy to see them as children as they were the nephews of a man she called a friend, but their lives stretched far into the past and hopefully would extend into a distant future, and already, they knew more than she would ever learn.

With another curtsy, she acknowledged the gracious offer of his friendship and the privileges it brought. “Thank you, dear prince I would be honoured to accept both the cake and your good graces.” He gave her an answering bow that sealed the deal.

If they knew what scandalous actions she had been engaged in only moments ago, Faith thought, they would probably not be that courteous to her. The idea of losing their affection stung, which surprised her, but the idea of losing them, period, turned out to be utterly unbearable to her. Her mind shrank back from the mere thought as from an open, festering wound.

She had been alone most of her life, but the mere contemplation of never seeing the creatures in front of her again filled her with dread and a nameless pain that choked the light out of her heart. For their own people and their culture, they were young still and she couldn’t bear the thought of having such promising torches snuffed out before their time. Would that she could live another hundred years to see their mischief soften to quiet humour, to see them take wives and father children, to be their friend through the different stages of a dwarven life.

The limitations of her own body and life constricted her soul, crushing it to dust, and she wanted to rail against the injustice of being given a glimpse of perfection only to have it snatched away too soon by the ravage of time. No, she thought, she would be thankful to be granted that precious peek; she would be grateful to have known what others only dreamt of and she would treasure those memories and all she had seen until her eyes saw no more.

“Thank you ever so much.” Faith mumbled again, feeling the effects of the half-glass of wine she had drunk and wondering if the dwarrows could eat all the time. She had had more than her fill at the dinner, but she dutifully bit into her cake which was sweet and surprisingly moist.

“Do you like it?” Kíli asked eagerly. “It is like everything else of dwarven make I have experienced.” Faith grinned.

“Bulky, heavy and smelling kind of weird?” Thorin prompted, much to Faith’s chagrin; she had not noticed that he had finished his conversation with his friend. Maybe, she had been wrong and dwarven mischief never really abated, maybe, they just learned to hide their wicked humour under longer beards in time. “Beautiful, compact, and delicious.” She gave him a brazen look full of dancing sparks; she liked bandying words with Thorin almost as much as she liked being kissed by him.

“Delicious, ey?” Dwalin laughed, clapping his king on the shoulder, and promising to come back later to relieve Thorin in his guard-duties. Oh, this was absurd, Faith rolled her eyes, she didn’t need two prime fighters in front of her door.

She had trekked through wind and weather; she had tackled a man with a knife and had chased away another one; she could take care of herself. It seemed though as if Thorin had been mostly correct: if they had lingered in her room, someone would have come looking for them and she might have lost a name that was worth more in this settlement than it ever had before.

She was half a savage, she realised, unused to the social conventions and rules of a society. As a maiden, she should have waited for a husband to give up this most sacrosanct of female gifts, but she was past the marrying age, and she was not overly fond of the idea of dying a virgin.

It was highly improbable that she would ever be anything else than a concubine to anyone and much more believable that she’d end up taken by force…hence the armed king outside her door. He had saved her once from rape and violence, and Faith did not doubt that he would do it again without hesitating.

Until he left.

Looking at the young princes, Faith realised that she felt safe here. She had stopped looking over her shoulder and hence, had let down her guard too much; all these lovely people would go on a perilous journey, and she would be left to her own devices. Maybe, she would have to heed the king’s advice after all and learn to be demure and discreet again.

That would be a whole lot easier once his startling beauty was removed and she could breathe again without getting a whiff of that intoxicating smell. How far would he have to be removed for her to no longer feel tethered to his steps?

She would miss him. His presence had become solace and home to her, a place to rest, a warmth to sustain her, and she would feel more vulnerable with him gone than ever before. Oh, another painful thought she didn’t want to pursue in this moment.

“We should let you get to bed. Just scream if anything is the matter and enjoy the cake.” The youngsters ambled away in high spirits, mocking Ori and his teapot and squabbling about the last cake. She would miss them too; like everything she had experienced in this wondrous place, they were a curious blend of beauty – light, colour, and laughter – and strength – honour, courage, and faith. Yes, she could say that she was fond of them and that she would be looking forward to seeing them again; there was just no way to dislike their open-hearted…fierceness. They were striving towards a brighter future with such zeal and indefatigable energy that Faith was pulled along despite her own reservations.

“Can I offer you a piece, my king?” Faith sat down again on her side of the doorframe, offering the baked good to Thorin.

“Ah, yes, I won’t say “no” to that.” He nodded, breaking off a piece and shoving it into his mouth, crumbs raining down on his tunic which she brushed away casually, amused to find that the king had a sweet tooth. His hand closed around her wrist.

“I am sorry, Faith, this…it was a mess. I…” He sighed. “I want to do this right…”

Oh, how could she have forgotten? While she was obsessing about her own death as if she was a crone already, she had forgotten that he had seen decades more than her; the time for his retribution had come and, of course, he didn’t want more loose ends and false starts to burden him.

“I will make it right; I will…” His eyes had softened to a mesmerizing dark blue in the low light, intense and captivating.

Now that the fire in her veins had dulled into a sensuous warmth, a steady flow of earnest affection and deep longing, she could put aside the wounds her vanity had sustained and mumble: “Oh, you king of second chances, I am sure you will.”

“Have faith in me, sweet one, I will make good on my word.” – “I shall not be another burden on your shoulders, Thorin-king.” She protested softly, putting her hand lightly on top of his.

“You are not, neither are they.” He waved in the general direction in which his nephews had disappeared. “I will succeed where others have failed, because of all of you. I will bring you home: my sister, my nephews, my friends…you. I swear.”

The intensity of his gaze and of his determination sent shivers down Faith’s spine.

She was a woman without a history and, probably, without a future, but she could recognise the weight of his ancestors’ failures, of his people’s suffering, and of his own ambition bear down on him inexorably.

“Rest, sweet king, you have done me no wrong.” She reassured him. “Have I not?” His eyes narrowed, suspecting a subterfuge or a trick. “You are a stubborn but very honourable fool, and I am glad that you convinced me to come here.” She grinned.

“So, you like it here? You’ll like Erebor then. It’s full of gold.” He smiled. “You and your gold!” She laughed.

“It’s full of beautiful things.” He tried again. “It shall be, yeah.” She chuckled, bumping her shoulder gently into his.

“You…I wanted to say that I feel honoured that you’d…consider me for…” He nodded at the empty room behind her, which made her giggle again; he really was too upstanding to be real.

“You are the single most beautiful living thing I’ve ever beheld in my life. You’re kind, generous, and brave. I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable; I see now that there are rules to be followed and I did not mean any disrespect.”

Thorin seemed to ponder her words for a while before nodding: “Yes, I guess that is true…I know that you are physically incapable of wilfully disrespecting anyone or anything almost, so no problem.”

“What are the rules, Thorin-king?” She had caught a glimmer in his eye that disquieted her considerably.

He looked purposefully away for a moment and then mumbled into his beard: “I’d court you and then…”

“What would you quarter me for? In that case, I do see why you think intercourse would be dangerous.” Faith hissed, aghast.

“Court you, not quarter you. Who do you think I am?” Thorin exclaimed, lowering his voice immediately.

“I am sorry that I do not have your sister’s supersonic hearing.” Faith grumbled, but she had to laugh when she saw his dumbfounded face. “Oh, Dís, she was born like that. It’s because she loves information that much. I call it information…”

He made a face.

“She sounds like a valuable councillor then, wouldn’t you say?” Faith teased him. “Kíli gets it from her, that wicked sense of humour and that…” His voice softened, “She has a fierce heart, my sister does, stay close to Dís, she’ll keep you safe.”

Faith believed him, but she wondered how he could be so sure.

“My sister loves me as I love her, you are my friend, you are her sons’ friend…She won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I don’t want to be a burden on the princess either.” Faith protested, flustered by the finality in his voice.

Thorin took her hand and murmured: “Can you do two things for me, please? One, go to bed, otherwise I will have to kiss you again and we have seen that it generally ends in…frustration; and two, promise that you’ll stay with Dís.”

Throwing a quick glance down the corridors, Faith stuck out her head of the doorframe and pressed a single, warm, lingering kiss on his stubborn mouth and whispered: “I swear to stick to the princess…and lay down my life if necessary for her protection.”

Mahal have mercy, Thorin thought, the two women he cared for most would try to die in protection of one another at the slightest provocation; they were both fiercely loyal and brave in their own way. Devoted and self-forgotten, Faith had no regard for her own fragile life that seemed to be entirely made up of service while Dís had ever been a pugnacious dwarrowdam who would not avoid a fight if she thought she could win. Dís always thought she could win. She was his sister, after all.

“Good night, king of kings.” She whispered, flipping one of his braids playfully over his shoulder and scrambling to get to her feet. Thorin watched her go, taking off her dress again as she went, and cursed himself for being such a fool.

As she slipped between the sheets though, Faith stiffened and cried out: “Wait a minute…what do you mean by court?”

It had taken some time for his words to sink in, but again, all her fatigue evaded her within a second.

“Well, courting gifts, braids, walking around with your hand in mine…more intrusive questions by my nephews, more teasing by my sister…” He enumerated and ticked off the fingers of his hand.

Marriage, Faith thought, that was what it all led up to. Courting led to weddings, in general, and she would not marry Thorin Oakenshield, king of the Longbeards, not if the almighty creator himself did not come down and grant her a life long enough to honour the bond she would enter into, and a blood worthy of his. Falling back hard into her pillow, she resisted the urge of burying her head in it and asphyxiating herself out of pure impatience and annoyance with the situation.

Then again, the idea of having his nephews and his sister, and ultimately of course him, around until her forever came, held such a sweet seduction that it tore her heart apart. The intensity of her longing made it very clear to her that she was reaching for forbidden fruit indeed. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling that started to swim and swirl in front of her eyes.

“Sleep, sweet one, tomorrow is another day. There will be time for you to decide if that is something you’d want.”

Oh, naturally, he would be a perfectly honourable man about that as well, Faith thought with something akin to disdain almost; while she fretted and fussed, he would offer his courtship and she would have the right to deny it.

Would he understand her reasons when she finally did reject his promise of tender and respectful advances? Or would he feel as miserably unsatisfied as she did now?

Again, she tried to remind herself of the fact that he did not care for her in that way. She had promised him her body and he was looking to find some justification for taking it; a man such as him would not simply despoil a woman because he felt like it, no, he would create the pretence of a mock courtship to explain why he had taken what he could never give back.

Time would tell. Time, her constant enemy, the shadow gnawing mercilessly on her hours in the sun, would decide if she ever got an answer to those questions.

“You can tell me sooner of course.” Thorin mumbled and she sat up in bed, her blanket a tangled mess around her legs.

“It is a discussion for another day, surely.” She replied calmly, falling back to hide her face and its expression from him.

“Are you very cross with me, Faith?” He asked then.

“Not in the least, Thorin.” She decided against a title, knowing that it would make him believe that she was indeed angry when, really, she was confused and considerably hurt by everything that had happened tonight and by the fears that swirled in her head and heart without surcease. “Good, I couldn’t bear to disappoint you as well.”

“What are you talking about?” Again, she shot up to stare at him in dumbfounded amazement. “I will do right by all of you.” He vowed anew and Faith wondered if he always took his own trespasses so seriously; of course, he would.

“Good night, Master Dwarf. I care for you, and you are beautiful.” She repeated the most important things of the evening, swallowing her rejection of his courtship and falling into a fitful sleep, constantly disturbed by her body that was as taut as a twisted piece of wire. Every time her thighs touched, a spark of pure agony shot through her limbs, a feeling she knew would subside but that made her intensely miserable, nonetheless.

“How’s the little lady?” Dwalin clunked down the corridor and was forced to sneak the last stretch so as not to awaken Faith.

Thorin loved his friend, but he would not tell him how he had spent the last hours listening to Faith mumble and moan in her sleep; more than once, she had whimpered his name and he had been sorely tempted to take off his clothes again and slip between the covers with her.

Somewhere between her body and the mattress lay heaven, he knew, and her soft groaning had worn out his soul and chafed his skin raw with desire.

“She’s not a little lady.” Thorin grumbled. No, Faith was fearless when it came to actual danger; despite her innate subservience and her sweet temper, she was a fierce woman he was honoured and happy to call his friend.

“You’re thinking about courting her, aren’t you?” – “If she’ll have me.” Thorin didn’t even try denying it.

Dwalin had his doubts about that; Faith seemed fond enough of their mutual friend, of their common king, but could she find that kind of love inside herself for someone who was not of her own race? Friendships were indiscriminate; they were based on mutual respect and understanding, but marriage followed a set of rules much stricter and more severe.

It was also probable that she’d die before him, but he was not exactly a young dwarf and they had years ahead of them that could be spent in happy union; if he lived, if she agreed. Did she know that? Would she want that?

“She’s very…kind.” Dwalin said carefully, for she had been nothing but nice to him despite the fact that even dwarrowdams had told him before that he looked like a raincloud pickled in vinegar and left to dry on a stony cliff. “She is.” Thorin agreed.

“What is with the door?” Dwalin then asked and nodded at the huddled form in the bed he could make out in the penumbra. “She can’t open it on her own.” Thorin explained and then, the epiphany hit him: he would not wait for his return or her joining him; he would start his tentative courting with the very basic gift of an appropriate door.

“I…I have something to do. Please do not turn around under any circumstance and tell Mistress Faith that I’ll find her as soon as I’m done.” Thorin spluttered hastily and, boots in hand, almost ran down the corridor in search of a carpenter.

He would have a door made that she could easily open and close herself, but he would make sure that it was sturdy, fashioning and applying the bolts himself. Would that this blasted wizard was around to help imbue the very slab of wood with spells for her protection. Yes, he would convince her of his deep affection for her in the only way he knew: hard work and presents.

Faith woke up to the broad back of Master Dwalin completely obscuring the doorframe.

“The king is…doing something and he’ll find you as soon as he has finished…doing whatever he is doing.” The dwarrow grunted as a reply to her cheery greeting.

Slipping back into her simple shift, Faith approached the stolid figure and tapped him on the shoulder. “Would you be so good as to let me out?” He shifted aside and let her pass, but as she took a step, he followed her.

“I’d rather keep an eye on you.” He muttered, a low, rumbling sound that she very much enjoyed. “You are a dear man, Master Dwalin.” She chirped and nodded slowly.

“Hmmm, me? Hmmm, thank you, Mistress Faith.”

If she had been a braver woman when it came to social conventions, Faith might have asked to hug him, but as it was, she didn’t dare presume. “You’re a funny little creature as well.” He chuckled after a moment which made her turn around in surprise.

“Where are we going?” He cocked his head. “First to get you some breakfast and then to the river, if that is agreeable to you.” She replied gently. As he was intent on shadowing her, she had to think of his well-being as much as he seemed to worry about hers; so, off to the kitchens they went in search of a fortifying meal for the big warrior.

While Dwalin was still munching noisily on his breakfast, Faith was already kneeling beside the river, digging her hands deep into the soil, and filtering out the clay in meticulous steps until she had a sizeable ball. Her guardian watched her work tirelessly, fascinated by her steady, soft movements. Thorin was right, he thought, she was a creature of mud.

Even though the king himself was, in this moment, hammering steel with ringing force, there was a parallel to be drawn between the rhythmic, almost dance-like movements both of them were performing to create something new. For one another, if Dwalin wasn’t very much mistaken.

“I’d ask the kitchens if you can use one of their ovens rather than the open fire of the furnace.” He commented when Faith started moulding and twisting her ball of clay into shapes. “It will be quicker and gentler on your creations.”

Faith nodded when a glint in the water caught her eye. A beautiful, iridescent pebble, smooth and shiny was sitting right next to a single coin. She knew not if it had been caught in the folds of her dress or if someone else had lost it in the river, but she took it to be a good omen for her sacrifice to find things so beautiful to add to her offering.

“Off to the kitchens we go again then, Master Dwalin.” She smiled, heaping her work into his broad palms and chuckling to herself as she watched him hold them carefully in his hands while he walked gingerly ahead of her. He was a dear fellow…and another soul to miss bitterly.

“Come quick, uncle.” Thorin looked up from the bolt he had been fitting on the wooden door meant for Faith’s room in surprise. “You have to see that.” Fíli, his nephew, his heir, was waving him along urgently and so he followed without taking the time to cross-examine the lad on the motivation for his peculiar behaviour.

As soon as they arrived at the side of his dear sister, Thorin could understand where the excitement came from. Faith was kneeling in front of a tree hugging the mountainside, laying out the earthen dishes she had made with her own hands this morning.

“Uncle.” Kíli yelped, just arriving, upon seeing Faith pull out a knife and slashing open her arm once again, letting her blood drip into one of the shallow vessels slowly. “Let her be.” Thorin muttered, closing his hand around his nephew’s wrist to restrain him.

“I come to you, oh great creator, guide of my steps, in prayer.” Faith started, touching her forehead to the ground.

“But, I come not for myself. I come to pray for the safe passage and blessed return of Thorin Oakenshield and his company.” Again, she bowed down, then lifting her bloodied hands to the sky and pleading:

“You who have many faces, allow me to address those I have known all my life without ever speaking their name. I have been told that the one Thorin calls Mahal and we may call “crafting face of the creator” has hewn the dwarrows from stone. Oh, father of all, remember those you gave life to and show them mercy once again. Oh, stone remember who you once cradled and mellow your bosom for them. May their steps tread safely on you and may you open your womb once again to give them refuge.”

Faith touched one of her dishes in which a single coin and an iridescent river pebble lay.

“Let not the fashioner of evil unmake your gift of strength and beauty to this world. For this, I pray.”

She turned to the second dish, containing seeds and herbs she had picked, offerings covered in mud and earth still.

“Oh, great creator, I cry to the part of you that is warm and motherly, to the face Thorin calls Yavanna under his breath. They are not made of stone; they are born, and they grow. May the protection of the mother fall upon them, the defence of all things that grow and thrive. Let the world I have cherished welcome them freely, oh great creator, oh manyfold God. May the rivers run smooth, and the trees grant them shade. Oh, earth you who have been my mother, hide their steps from foes and bear fruit to sustain them. I beg for this as a friend of all things living, may they be recognised by bird and beast, by heart and soul alive, for what they are: living, breathing, feeling creatures of this earth. Do not let them walk alone. For this, I pray.”

Finally, she lifted her own blood and poured it onto the soil in front of her.

“I am but a measly creature, a single life, but I understand that whatever blessing I might have known has had a purpose. I am a vessel and here, I surrender the mercy I have been granted to this greatest of kings. Take this blood into your bosom and see the flaws within it! May my life and the life of my kin be a cenotaph to guilt that spans over generations!”

She touched her forehead to the ground again before going on:

“Oh, great creator, carry the wisdom I have paid in blood and tears forth; may there be a gracious and brave child for every stubborn, unhospitable father, may the sons and daughters save their elders by their generous deeds. For this, I pray.”

Faith stood up again, bowing to her offerings thrice before lifting the knife to her throat.

This time, even Thorin jerked, but she merely cut off a strand of her hair to let it fall in the blood-stained dish.

“As for myself, I vow service, as I have before. I shall work tirelessly; I shall dig my hands bloody in search of fertile earth and I shall make plants thrive in your honour. From the day their feet fall into the first step of this most perilous of journeys until the day I shall gaze upon your blessed people again, oh great creator, I shall walk and pray in devout industry, only ever lifting my eyes to the sky to check if I am called forth. I yield whatever grace was placed upon and within me to Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, and whoever goes with him; I offer whatever strength I have to please you, oh great creator, in all your glory.”

Faith was about to turn away when she fell onto her knees again, her head pressed against the blood-drenched soil, sobbing in a low voice: “Oh, I plead with you, oh glorious, almighty, many-faced one, protect the one I call friend, the one who promised more than his body to me, bring him home safely even if I never get to see him again. Do not cut short the life of princes so valiant and honourable either. Take home the weary bones of old warriors and give fertile soil to the young ones to thrive. You are the maker of all things, of things that never change and of things that never stand still; honour their steadfast courage, eternal as the mountain, and their beating hearts, ever-changing as the seasons.”

Remembering the excellent hearing of the dwarrows, Faith lowered her voice to a whisper as she finished: “For I love them, dearly, desperately, endlessly. May the love of a mere mortal be guide, shield, and sword to them. I ask for nothing for myself, not an ounce of comfort, not a single blessing, heed my love for it is my only need in this life! I beg of you, I’d give everything for you to hear me…for this I pray.”

She bowed one last time, pulled down her sleeve and turned around to see Thorin staring at her with unfathomable eyes.

And then, the pain engulfed her, and she collapsed at the same time as Thorin broke into an impressive sprint for a boulder.

#fanfiction #thorin oakenshield #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #prayer #the aftermath of almost sex #nice chapter to write #overly dramatic

12 notes · View notes

natromanxoff · 4 years ago

Text

Record Mirror (December 14, 1974): 51/?

QUEEN KILLING THEM SOFTLY IN FRANKFURT

IT WAS, said the tall and studious Brian May, like playing to a vacuum cleaner. "We were just pouring it out and they (the audience) were sucking it in, with nothing coming back. I tell you, for the first time in many months I felt like I'd done a hard day's work when I came off stage."

May, along with the rest of the band, is sitting in the diner of Frankfurt's Why Not club reflecting on Queen's second date in Germany. The mood is not bad, but there's an undercurrent of steely determination following the difficulties of that night's gig.

The fact is, support band Lynyrd Skynyrd. were exactly what stoned-out Frankfurt wanted. As in England with Golden Earring, so in Germany with Queen, Lynyrd Skynyrd make an over-poweringly succesful support band. Here In Frankfurt there were even more difficulties for the English and. Most of the audience are American GI's, looking like inmates from the local borstal with their cropped hair and rippling muscles.

As you enter the 1100 capacity hall, the air is stuffed with the stench of dope — an intermingling of hash and grass and the sweat of a crowd at least 300 over the top.It's a strange place, former stock-exchange for farmers, complete with balcony, and surrounded by tropical plants.

Up on the balcony above the stage a group of Queen supporters self-consciously tap their feet to Skynyrd's rhythmic weave. Roger Taylor, ever grinning, appears to check on th band, notes the wild applause and disappears, no doubt to plan strategy.

There's a long break between sets leading to the dissipation of part of the crowd. Heidi, the whizz-kid of EMI Germany, explains the local GI's problem: "Zey have to report back to camp by 11.00 pm". So when Queen's little rock 'n' roll drama explodes, there are considerably fewer people end even less enthusiasm.

Presence

Mercury, the self-styled rock supremo, looks unabashed as Queen open with as much presence as a band can muster. Lights, tapes, and screaming dynamics combine to counter the audience apathy. It's ahighly professional first assault. Procession, Now I'm Here, and Ogre Battle make a promising start which draws warm applause. But unlike many gigs, this one did not cook to boiling point. If anything the crowd were almost undecided when Queen departed after an energetic stab. It took fully two minutes before muted applause turned to a good old stmp and chant, bringing the boys back on stage for a stirring finale.

Freddy stalks the stage with controlled aggression as they bash into Big Spender and you realise that here's a rock artist who can sing, cavort, and write songs with an almost contemptuous level of excellence. He is a classic rock star — complete with costume changes and bare hairy chest. Seems, his only real need is to develop that outrageous off-stage campery into the act. He's very much the mincing Queen, yet on stage this seemingly natural personality is overtaken with host of: "Right now we'd like to do" type announcements. Roger Taylor, a veritable demon on the drums and very fine musician, has more idea when he tells the crowd to get off their arses. Nevertheless there were those in the company who felt Queen showed too much aggression in the face of audience apathy.

Anyway, by all account there's a huge row in the dressing room afterwards which sends the EMI rep scurring away with cries of: "Don't let them break the windows."

The Swedes were apparently as wild as English audiences, but in Germany it's different.

Next stop is Hamburg with Skynyrd supporting for the last time.

Unapproachable

More talk on the way back to the hotel suggests the band will be unapproachable and there's even talk of spending the rest of the evening with Slade, who just happen to be staying at the same hotel. The word is that Queen are THE most fastidious band and no matter how good the gig, they (or Freddy paticularly) will find fault.

Eventually Brian and John walk into the bar. They look cool but not too unnerved and they're all prepared to go clubbing.

According to them there've been a few problems already on this, still young European tour like the incident which decapitated their equipment truck. Apparently some hapless roadie was hurtling through the Swedish night when he failed to notice a low-bridge warning. The lorry went on through, losing its root and half the amps in the process. Two gigs had to be cancelled while another truck was driven out from London in time for the Munich gig, a first in Germany. According to Heidi, Munich was a smash: "The audience just didn't know what had hit them," she says, adding that tonight's comparative failure does not over concern her: "Queen will be huge," she says confidently, "I'm sure they are going to be enormous, but it will take a year."

None of the boys seem overly worried and the general feeling in their road party — and among the visiting journalists — is one of disdain for the Frankfurt crowd. A crowd of dopers into boogie rock is hardly likely to appreciate futuristic guitar pyrotechnics and 1975 flash a la Mercury.

"Still," muses May, now installed at the night spot, "they could have returned something. The more an audience feed back the better we play — naturally — but there I just felt like I was wasting my time."

Electronic

He's a musician of the electronic school, very much on top of the latest developments in the uses of amplified sound. On stage he uses two American Echoplex units. The guitar he built himself over two years: "There's nothing special or different about it, it's just a good instrument." The amplifiers, he draws from a good old British tradition. Back in the days when The Shadows were the inspiration for every rock group in the country (they were celled rhythm groups then) Vox amplifires were renowned. Now, in contrast to almost all of his contemporaries, May uses the good old Vox AC 30, or to be more precise, nine of them (three are spare).

Over a crab cocktail and non alcoholic drink (he's still recovering from Hepititis) Brian quashes the popular misconception that Queen are just a studio band manipulated by highly professional technicians. The truth is self-evident in the stage act. They compare favourably with their recorded sound. But Brian goes further.

"Do people really believe it's all down to the studio?" he asks indignantly.

Well, er, yes Brian, Trident Studios has got a reputation for expertise, and you must admit there's a lot of production goes into the Queen discs.

"OK," he returns, "but most of that studio direction comes from us.

"We think of all the ideas. We love being in the studio. We're full of thoughts on how the songs should come out."

Fair enough. But what about being on the road? There are nothing but tours ahead for the band. Can they all cope? What will they do to keep sane?

"I suppose this," he looks unimpressed. "I can't drink more than a couple of pints so there's no danger of me getting wrecked. I must admit though it's going to be long haul. It'll be really good for us but I'd prefer not to be away so long. We're just going home for Christmas then we're off again to America."

Meanwhile on the next table, Freddy Mercury is being his ourtageous self: "When we were in Copenhagen dear, we went to a Russian restaurant where naturally I ordered the speciality of the house. It was delicious. I said 'what in this' and they told me I was eating bear. Bear, dear, I loved it."

Freddy and Roger Taylor seem to be taking Europe in their stride, and a few indifferent gigs won't stop their growing style in this band. Freddy's voice is on the way to giving out, yet he still has time to confide that he simply must do something about his hair. Perhaps he should send for his personal hairdresser?

The Queen has her eyes on an entourage no doubt, and what's the betting she gets it...?

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #record mirror #record mirror december 1974 #queen scans

53 notes · View notes

wastelandcth · 4 years ago

Text

best years - cth

summary: dovey and calum go through a rough patch, leading dovey to believe she gave up her best years.

author’s notes: hello everyone...this is angst and part one out of two. good luck! inspired by this tik tok.

warnings: angst and sad overall

masterlist || request || more doves

I’ve got a million reasons to hesitate and baby a million more are added every day.

Dovey had always been there for Calum. She'd been there through the drama that came along with being in a well-known band. She'd been there through the highs and the lows, through the rumors and controversies. Dovey had stuck through everything and every day it seemed like more and more came into light, like the man she had fallen in love with became a stranger. Suddenly, Calum was no longer her best friend who would tell her everything, he was the stranger in her bed who hardly was around.

The fight hadn't been intentional. Most of the time, the Doves would talk anything out. Whether it be a disagreement over something small like where the pillows on the couch should go or whether it was something big like how their lives would be affected by the latest album release. This time, it was different, stubbornness and yells meant that Dovey found herself in a lonely bed while Calum locked himself away in his office. And with only a few days left before Calum left for tour with no plan on when or if Dovey would join him, the Doves went to sleep in different beds.

It had started when he'd left for tour. Usually, Dovey would drive him to the airport and stay until the band's flight was called and she had given him one last hug until they were reunited again. This time, Calum had suggested saying their goodbyes at home that it would be the best since there would probably be a lot of fans at the airport. Although she wasn't too please with their break from tradition, Dovey found herself hugging him on their doorstep, whispering a soft I love you before the man she loved stepped into the car that had been waiting.

The next time Dovey realized something had changed, she had been on facetime with him. He'd seemed distant, his eyes drifting off from the screen and his interest in whatever conversation he and Dovey were having being torn away at some joke Michael had told. Dovey thought he might've noticed something was off when she had hung up on the call, hoping he'd call her back and she could claim it was an accident, but her phone never rang again that night. It felt like the harder Dovey tried to connect with the man who was an ocean away living his dream, the more she realized exactly how disconnected they were becoming.

I spent so much of me on you I forgot who I became.

The longer that Calum was away on tour, the more Dovey found herself. Days that would've been spent alone in a foreign city while Calum was in a radio gig were now spent with friends in the city she'd learn to call home. Mornings, where she’d usually wake up in a cramped bunk next to a grumpy Calum, were spent taking Duke on a hike and clearing her head.

One day after she'd gotten home from the grocery store, a pang in her heart threatened to ruin the good mood she'd been in when she saw Luke's partner post a picture of them all in front of some monument miles away. But with a shake of the head and a double-tap on the screen, Dovey put some music on and danced the tears away. It wasn't until later that night when her mind was awake that she clicked on the picture again, finding those brown eyes she'd fallen in love with two years ago staring back at her. She could tell something was different, that the smile he had on didn't reach his eyes and his eyes didn't shine like they normally did when he was having the time of his life. But things were different now, and Dovey wasn't going to let her life revolve around him as she did before. If he wanted to talk to her as much as she wanted to talk to him, he would've called. He had her number and for some unknown reason, had decided to not use it.

Finally found a reason to walk away.

The final straw had been a picture. Dovey had been used to seeing fan meetings on her social media, smiling fans grateful to have been able to meet Calum and talk to him for even just a second. But the second a video of him had started circling around the internet and made its way onto her screen, Dovey had just about had enough of the stupid shit Calum had been putting her through the last two months. She understood being too busy for at least a phone call or text. Touring was hard work and Calum was known for pushing himself to the limit. She understood wanting space from one another that maybe this tour was something Calum needed to do on his own in order to clear his mind and think about what their relationship meant to him. But the one thing Dovey wouldn't stand by his side when he was the one that had been telling people she was the one who hadn't wanted to join him. She wasn't going to stand by his side while he told his bandmates and the rest of the world that she hadn't wanted to join him because she was being dramatic. If Calum wanted drama, Dovey could be dramatic.

The house that I built you made it a mess.

Dovey had been out of their house, the house that had been filled with memories of them and their love, for about two weeks now. Duke had joined her in the passenger seat of her car that sunny afternoon when she had stuffed all her belongings into the back seat and rode off out of the city. Her parent’s house that brought along the comfort and warmth she had been craving for months was a few hours away and far enough away that any reminders of Calum could be put aside. The small town she had left all those years ago brought her peace and gave her the space she needed from whatever waited for her back in LA, if anything even did wait for her.

Her mother had met her in the driveway, a tight embrace and promises of better times made Dovey's heavy heart lighten up as she saw her childhood home still pretty much the same as the day she had left it. The living room still had candles everywhere and the tv was playing the same movie channel her mother loved to watch on her days off from work. The kitchen was still stocked with snacks and fruits that seemed too real to be fake. And the backyard was still a playground for any and every dog Dovey had brought home, even Duke who had settled on laying in a sunspot to nap.

Her bedroom had brought on a new set of challenges, the posters on the walls and the albums on the shelves brought tears to her eyes as she saw those brown eyes looking back at her. He'd be back in their house soon. Dovey wondered how he'd react to find himself in an empty house. What he would think of when he saw the letter she had left him on the kitchen counter since at that point any attempt to call or text him was met with radio silence. He'd probably try to call her at that point, she hoped, but only to see where Duke was or he'd get Ashton to do it for him. Dovey wasn't too sure about anything when it came to Calum anymore. She wasn't sure if he would even care that she had left the gold band on the counter next to the letter or that she had left her keys to the house in the little ceramic tray they had painted on one of their dates so many months ago.

I’m left with broken pieces can't help how I ran out of tears.

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since the tour had ended and Dovey hadn't heard from any of them. She hadn't heard from Calum since before she'd left the house almost a month ago and she hadn't even gotten a text message from Luke, who would update her on what had been going on during the tour. It was been one week since Dovey had run out of tears. One week since she had decided that leaving was the best option and that she had made the right choice.

It had been a week since she realized just how much of herself she'd given away to Calum only to have nothing left for herself. It took her two weeks to realize that if he had wanted to talk to her, he would. If he had wanted to see her or even Duke for that matter, he would've driven to where she was. So when her tears were dry and the pain in her chest was nothing more than a dull pressure whenever she thought about him, she began to fix whatever broken pieces she could.

It began when she packed away all the old posters that hung on her wall, the smile on every single one leaving her breathless like it always would when she saw it in person. The sparkle in his eyes bringing fresh tears to hers, tears that she would blink away and continue on with taking him out of her life. By the time her childhood bedroom was nothing more than the furniture and bare walls, Dovey felt lighter than she had in months. It didn't last long. As sleep called her name and her eyes closed, Dovey was brought back from whatever dream she was about to enter when the buzzing noise went off next to her head.

I'm sorry.

I lost all my best years just missing my best years. past love burned out like a cigarette im free now baby all I regret are my best years.

Sitting in the living room, watching back old family movies and nursing the drink in her cup, Dovey couldn't help but feel like an idiot. She'd given Calum the best years of her life. Gave him all the good times and shared the most wonderful moments with him all for him to leave her with silence and no explanations. She'd gone through the stages of grief, had tried to make her new life without his work, and then he had shoved his way back in with no warnings in the middle of the night.

The text message hadn't been the only thing Calum had sent, no matter how hard Dovey had wanted it to be. He'd sent her a voice note, a five-minute ramble where his accent had gotten too thick for Dovey to try and decipher what he was saying through the tears and sniffling. He'd apologized for the silence, apologized for the lies, and even apologized for forcing the silence he'd caused from the rest of the band. But Dovey wasn't going to just let him into her life so easily, she wasn't going to let him in after the months of silence and heartbreak. She'd lost all her best years and she needed to find herself again before she could ever consider letting Calum have more of the best of her.

taglist: @hoodhoran @finelliine @moonlightcriess @dinosaursandsocks @mxgyver @calpops @karajaynetoday @notlukehemmo @calumrose @devilatmydoor @lyss-xo @lowkeyflop

#calum hood blurbs #calum hood imagines #calum hood fics #calum hood oneshots #calum hood x reader #5sos blurbs #5sos imagines #5sos fics #5sos oneshots #5sos x reader #calum hood #5sos #5 seconds of summer #gemma writes

84 notes · View notes

bunnys-beetlejuice-blog · 4 years ago

Text

some kind of loud, attention grabbing noise that lets you know ITS FIC TIME, BABYYYYY you could start here, but the context... the build up.. the hours of worldcrafting, you'd miss it all... so start here, instead, then circle back.

These last two weeks have actually been nice. She and Adam had both mutually agreed that, despite not being the kind of person either of them would intentionally seek out on their own, Beetlejuice (she still has a hard time believing that’s what BJ stands for, but okay,) is fun. Not just fun, but funny, and seemingly often in the mood to laugh, in that overblown, Vincent Price horror movie way he does, which earns him multiple shushes in the library.

Drama club has gotten better. Barbara has a private theory that what most people need is to just get used to BJ, to spend enough time with him that he stops looking like an outsider, and it’s coming true, slowly, but finally. BJ had mentioned off-handedly he played ukulele, and when the other kids had expressed interest, he’d brought it with him the next day... Though she’s not quite sure where he kept it, the entire day. She’s seen that mess of a locker he’s got. She doubts it fits in there. And it can’t have been in his backpack, either, because every time he sets it down, she can hear what sounds like glass and rocks settling. She’s even seen him, after school, pick up a rock and shove it in one of the pockets. She has to assume his bag weighs a hundred pounds, or so.

His instrument, almost predictably, was painted with black and white stripes, but he’d played the little thing like a pro. She had never taken him for someone who enjoyed the mellow, soft sounds the ukulele was known for, but clearly, she doesn’t know enough about the boy. Miss Larson, the drama instructor, had clapped, and learned that BJ could read music, too. “Maybe while we’re practicing, you can accompany us?” She’d asked, clearly trying to work a way into getting more participation out of their newest member. BJ had been flustered, but had agreed, easily.

The wildest thing had been hearing him sing. They’d moved from being in the drama room, most days, to being in the auditorium, working on lines and practicing their singing. No one’s been officially cast, yet, but it’s mostly to get used to being on stage. Miss Larson had insisted that BJ sing a few lines for them, and he’d sort of made a face, ducked backstage, and had appeared with his ukulele in hand. Barbara didn’t even know he’d put it back there.

“Uh, so, sing what?” He’d shuffled awkwardly, and Miss Larson had smiled. “Whatever you feel,” to which BJ just snorted, and rolled his eyes, but then he plucked a few notes on his ukulele, and started to sing.

“There’s a camp, there’s a camp, by the frozen lake, wa wa ooh. With every belly starving and every finger numb, but up on the hill there’s a red, red rum, somebody’s always cooking something in the lean-to.”

It wasn't a song she’d recognized, but it was clearly morbid. She shouldn’t have expected anything different. The real focal point was his voice, his strange, scratchy pitch, because despite sounding like he gargles sandpaper and nails, he’s got a strong, clear tone, one that carries well, and as he sings, he doesn’t hit a single sour note. She also noted that his enunciation is much clearer when he’s singing, oddly enough. He sang as much as he decided he needed to, and clung to his ukelele as he finished, like a lifeline. “So. Yeah.” He’d said, and then flinched when the clapping started, from all members present, but especially her and Adam. He’d stood looking around at them all, utterly baffled.

“You didn’t tell us you would sing!” Jeremiah, the student director, was the one who looked the most enthused, and BJ balked. “Didn’t think it mattered. M’just gonna be a stagehand.. Right?”

“Maybe he could play the dentist?” Miss Larson had looked at Jeremiah, and they’d begun talking amongst themselves, ignoring him, as he strummed nervously at his instrument.

“Oh, wait, check this out!”

And he sings again, another verse from that same, oddly morbid song, which she’d started to pick up is definitely about cannibals, but his voice is.. Different. The grit is gone. It’s like he’d ran his vocal cords under some hot soapy water, and washed all the grime and gravel out of them, because he sang like an angel, like a normal person, and then, suddenly, devolved into a hacking cough, doubled over.

“Sorry, can only do that so long. Hurts my throat,” he said, after a moment, all the grit back in his voice. He waited. There had been a soft laugh, and then it grew louder, coming from each of the members watching him in turn, because the idea that speaking like THAT somehow hurts, and his normal tone doesn’t, is just so outrageous and silly, and he’d stood there proudly, grinning in that way he does, because his joke had landed, and he might, for the first time since he was forced into their club, be enjoying himself.

So, yes. The last few weeks have been good. Very good.

All that club progress aside, looking back makes her a little flustered, because at this point, she’s gotten the hint that he’s not gay. What he is, is incredibly flirty, not only with Adam but with her, and she finds herself... enjoying it. He keeps his ukulele tucked into the bottom of the cart in the library, and sometimes, when he’s certain he won’t be interrupted, he grabs it and sings little songs about them, laying on top of the cart like a drunk lounge singer on a piano, as she or Adam wheel it along. The songs are made up on the spot tunes that often start dirty, and end sincere, like he can’t even help it. It’s embarrassing, and endearing, and just very… Beetlejuice.

There’s just the problem lingering overhead, the one she’s desperate to solve, of Kevin. BJ doesn’t talk about him, abruptly changes the subject when she tries, or just goes silent, and gives her a hard glare with those amber eyes, which is the worst of the three options, because silence on him is unnerving. He can do this thing where he goes deathly still, and she swears he doesn’t even breathe, just stands there, totally unmoving, like a corpse.

She thinks if she could just go to his house, and talk to his mother, she might get a better understanding of the entire situation, but despite him inviting them, he’s never followed up, and both Adam and herself are too polite to push.. Directly. But then, he doesn’t show up that day, not for library duty and not for drama club, and she makes the decision for him, that today is the day they’ll be coming over. She gets his address out of the guidance counselor, easily. “It’s so sweet you two want to go check up on him,” Mrs. Birch says, sliding his address across her desk to Barbara. “I knew the drama club would be a good fit for him! He’s already making friends!”

Adam’s mom is nice enough to drop them off, and Adam, adorable, sweet Adam, stares delighted at the house, as they walk up the front steps. “It’s a tudor!” he tells her, and she sort of nods, not really knowing exactly what that means. “I’ve never seen one painted black and white, before. Usually those accents are a natural wood color,” and she rings the bell, as he goes on. The outside of the house matches BJ’s stripes, and she wonders if that’s coincidence, or if his parents just really, really love him. The door swings open, and then a chubby blur jumps away from their line of sight, startling her from her thoughts. “Beetlejuice?�� Adam calls, concerned, and it takes a moment for their friend to reappear in the doorway, with a croaked out, “Sup?”

He looks terrible. He always looks a little terrible, as mean as that is to say, too pale and with purple spots under his eyes she chalks up to exhaustion, but he looks worse, today. It hadn’t occurred to her that he’d actually be sick.

“We just wanted to come by and see if you were okay,” she tells him, and BJ cocks his head so far to the side, he looks like he might fall over. “Why?” “Because.. We’re your friends,” Adam says, cautiously, which causes BJ to stare down at the checkered entryway tile.

“Oh.” He packs a lot of emotion into that little noise.

“Can we come in?” She asks, and he doesn’t look sure, rubbing at the back of his neck, but then next to him, in the doorway, appears what must be Mrs. Deetz. She’s on the tall side, slim, with blonde hair past her shoulders, and she’s wearing all black with lace accents. Even her stud earrings and the rings on her fingers are that same dark hue.

“Well, hello! BJ, invite your friends in!” She urges him, and then, to them asks, “You kids hungry? We’re just sitting down to dinner. It’s grilled cheese tower night,” and then she turns, and leaves them there, like that needs no explanation.

BJ fidgets a moment, but relents. “Come in, I guess,” he moves aside, and Adam and Barbara take a collective step into the Deetz household. The house is dark, not for lack of light, but for lack of color. The walls are paneling which Adam, delighted, says must be original, but they’ve been stained a dark shade of coffee, and it takes a moment for her eyes to adjust. When she does, she takes in how strangely eerie the place is. It’s less like someone’s home and more like a haunted house ride.

“Oh, you guys haven't taken down the Halloween décor, yet?” Adam asks, noting a cracked vase full of black roses on a side table as they follow BJ further in, and BJ snorts. “That crap? It's up in th’ attack. This is what passes for normal around here.” Barbara stops to stare at a picture of a distorted figure cannibalizing a smaller one. “Saturn Devouring His Son,” BJ says, briefly putting on a voice like a tour guide, high pitched and peppy, and both she and Adam wince. “What’s with you and cannibalism?” she asks, which only earns her that haunted laugh in response.

The kitchen, at least, looks a little more normal and bright, but Barbara learns quickly that’s not to be trusted, because sitting on the counter is what looks to be a lasagna made from sandwiches and sauce. “You guys are here on a night Emily had to cook. Bad luck,” BJ tells them, and it takes her a moment to realize he’s talking about his mother. Does he use her first name?

Emily, or, Mrs. Deetz, her mind corrects politely, busies herself with dishing them both a plate. “So, you kids must be.. Adam and Barbara,” she says, knowingly, and BJ, perhaps embarrassed, shuffles his bare feet at nothing. He’s been talking to his mom about them… aww. She notices then that he’s in his pajamas, which are, like everything else he wears, eccentric. He looks cute. She realizes she’s staring, and BJ catches her eye, and wiggles his eyebrows at her. Oh, god.

“We’re sorry for dropping by unannounced, Mrs. Deetz,” Adam says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and Mrs. Deetz waives that off. “It’s totally fine. BJ’s never taken a sick day, before, I bet you probably thought he was faking. You kids can call me Emily. And that, of course, is Lydia.” She gestures to the nine year old scrutinizing them from the kitchen table.

“Hello again,” Barbara says, and Lydia gives her a smile, at least, but it's wary, it’s very, “I’ve got my eyes on you.” It’s strange to see from a little kid.

They all sit down to eat, all five of them, at the kitchen table, she and Adam settled across from BJ and Lydia. Adam squints, trying to read what’s on the other boy’s shirt. “What does that say?” he asks, and BJ glances down, and pulls the top taught, to make it easier to read. “Least exciting hole I’ve ever been in,” both boys say, at the same time. “Grand Canyon National Park.” Barbara and Adam both blush at that, and Mrs.. Emily, Emily just laughs. Lydia looks annoyed. “No one will explain to me what that means,” she tells Barbara, leaning closer to her, and almost looking hopeful. Barbara avoids that look. “It’s a dirty joke,” is all she says, and Lydia, clearly not satisfied, just takes a bite of her grilled cheese abomination. “Chuck hates this shirt,” BJ tells them. “Chuck?” “Chuck, Chuckster, Chuckles, Charles.. My dad,” he grates out. Barbara can’t imagine calling her father by his first name. She’d be in a world of trouble for being “disrespectful,” if she tried. “Is Mr. Deetz home?” Adam asks, and Lydia is the one to reply, mouth still a little too full.

“He’s at the office. He’s always working so fucking late,” Lydia says, and then lets it settle in the air, like she’s waiting for something. Barbara balks, and it feels like her eyes are bulging out of her head, because she’s never heard that kind of language from a nine year old. She glances at Emily nervously, waiting for her to blow up, to be angry, but Emily just seems to be in deep thought.

“I dunno about that one, Lyds,” Mrs. Deetz finally says, and Lydia puffs up her chest and tries again. “He’s always working so god damn late?” She looks to her mother, and Emily, finger on her chin, nods. “Yeah, alright. I hereby decree that Lydia Deetz, at the age of nine and a half, is allowed to say god damn.” Lydia pumps her fist and then takes another huge mouthful of grilled cheese casserole. “Bout fuckin’ time,” BJ grunts. Barbara thinks the Deetz family might all be whack jobs. there's more, a lot more, but tumblr can't handle it all, so read this chapter in full over on Ao3!

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice the musical #goldenrat #beetlelands #barbara maitland #adam maitland #lydia deetz #emily deetz

22 notes · View notes

empyreanwritings · 4 years ago

Text

A Different Side to You

Pairing: Angel!Sam Wilson x Demon!Reader

Word Count: 7k (yall this is my longest fic that isn’t a series, i’m crying)

Warnings: definitely some blasphemous talk, blood and gore, mentions of sacrifices, language

Summary: You like to get under Sam’s skin because he makes it easy, but he doesn’t realize just how far you’ll really go to make sure he’s safe.

A/N: Hello friends! This is my submission for @buckysknifecollection writing challenge, congrats again on reaching 3k bby cause you deserve every follower and more! My prompt was Flirting in Inappropriate Places, and I tried to be as interesting with it as I could asdlkfjd ! Please let me know what y’all think! I crave attention xx

Divider by @whimsicalrogers - check them out bc their edits are amazing x

"Do you pray, or is that kind of redundant given your direct line to the big man?"

Sam refused to look over at the intruder. It was bad enough you felt the need to bother him with your presence again but to do it in a church? He feared if he looked over at you, he'd throw the hymnal straight at your thick skull. That kind of behavior was unbecoming for God's favorite, and he knew better than to test his father's patience - even if you tested his own daily.

You sighed dramatically, and he heard the familiar click of your heels as you walked down the center aisle. You traced your finger against the armrest of the pews; your nails dipped in black paint occasionally leaving a small scratch on them. The wood was old and soft, it was easy to leave marks behind, and it made you smile knowing they wouldn't be able to buff it out without ruining the wood altogether. A church marked by a demon. How sad.

For the last year, you brought it upon yourself to cause trouble to Sam. Nat told you not to bother with him; she knew her father would protect him at all costs, but you couldn't stop yourself. There was something about Sam that made every part of your body feel hot - and not in the Hellfire kind of way. Maybe it was his strong will or those arms. Either way, you enjoyed bugging him because you knew you'd make him crack eventually.

It was too hard to resist you, ask any man or woman who was allowed to live after a nightly encounter with you.

"I have to say," you leaned against the pew directly in front of Sam and crossed your arms over your chest, "Orange really is your color, Sammy. I don't think I've ever seen you look so delicious before."

"Can you not flirt with me in a house of worship? It's bad enough that you are here," he hissed. "Do not disrespect my father by flirting with me as well."

"Touchy, touchy. I can see I've struck a nerve, so I'll tell you why I'm here."

Sam's brows raised, and for once, he seemed intrigued by what you had to say. "Oh? It's not to bother me?"

Part of your visit was to bother him, you couldn't deny that, but it was mostly a professional visit. Nat needed to return to Hell and deal with a few demons who were stirring up trouble. The longer Nat stayed on Earth, the more restless they became down below. Some of them even went as far as to say Nat was no longer their queen and wanted to overthrow her. And, of course, she couldn't let that happen, so she left you in charge of any earthly factions trying to rise up while she went down to control the chaos. You hated being left behind, but the company wasn't terrible.

The only way you could really get the demons on Earth under control was if you had Lilith's knife. It was the only knife capable of truly killing a demon, not just send them back to Hell to crawl their way out again. After the war between the angels and demons, the angels took the knife and hid it so no being could ever wield its power again, and you knew Sam was there when Steve hid it.

You suggested a trade: Sam loaned you Lilith's knife in exchange for one of your Souls. No one would ever be willing to give up a soul they took in a deal, but if it meant you'd get your hands on the knife, you would do it.

"Are you out of your mind?" Sam roared, his cool exterior finally cracking at your audacity to ask something of him. "You really think I am going to hand over Lilith's knife to you? You know very well that knife doesn't just kill demons, Y/N."

"I would never use it on you, you drama queen." You paused, and a wicked smile spread across your face. "Unless you asked me to, of course."

He scoffed. You felt the disgust rolling off him, and you tried not to be annoyed that the sheer thought of being with you made him feel sick. You weren't looking for him to love you, or anything like that, but he didn't have to act like sleeping with you was so terrible. It wasn't as if you could get any sort of disease - perks of being a demon, after all.

"I am not giving you the knife, so you might as well leave."

"I can wait," you purred and left your spot on the pew to explore the sanctuary. You knew it would bother Sam if you stayed any longer, so you were going to milk your time there.

The church was one of the oldest in the city. You never fully understood the separate denominations of the church, but you noticed Baptists put less work into their churches than others. The pews were old, the fabric on them was a faded green that was torn in some spots. The white walls were slightly yellowed and peeling in the corners, but you only noticed if you focused long enough. It helped that the lights, which you could see dust hanging from the top of them, were dimmed. The blue carpet on the stage was the only thing that seemed new, and even that didn't seem to be in the best condition.

You walked over to the podium, and from the corner of your eye, you could see Sam tense up. You smirked and continued on. A worn bible sat on top of it; there were tabs sticking out the side, marking several pages for future sermons, you assumed. You grabbed the end of one and flipped it to the marked page, running your fingers across the lines.

You opened your mouth to start reading, but Sam appeared in front of you almost instantly. He slammed the bible closed, barely giving you time to yank your hand back. He knew exactly what you were doing, and he refused to let you speak the words of his father.

Touchy, touchy, you thought.

Sam grabbed your elbow to escort you out, but you whirled around and faced him head on. You pressed your chest against his; you were so close, your nose brushed the tip of his. He hated being this close to you, but he made no sign of backing down. God's favorite was one of the proudest as well. A deadly sin, you chose to remind him.

He watched your eyes flick down to his lips and back to his eyes in a matter of seconds. It happened so quickly, he thought he imagined it, but he knew better. You were shameless.

"I guess I'll get going now, Sammy," you hummed as you trailed your finger down his chest. "Please wear this sweater the next time I see you. Like I said, orange is your color."

You disappeared without another word, and the breath escaped Sam's lips in a cough. Well, it was less of a cough, and more of a strangled gasp. You really had a way of getting under his skin, and he hated admitting that to himself.

He knew one thing was certain, he couldn't let you get Lilith's knife. No matter your intentions.

"What are they doing?"

You jumped at the sound of Sam's voice, thinking you were caught by one of the people you spied on, but instantly relaxed when you saw him standing behind you. You glanced back at the scene in front of you - an altar with fake skulls the group probably bought at Michael's, red fabric thrown carelessly around everything, and three men in black cloaks mumbling to themselves about Lucifer. A woman was tied to the table directly in the middle. She squirmed and screamed for someone to help her, but no one was around these parts for miles, and the group knew it. It was why they picked this spot in the first place.

"Virgin sacrifice," you grumbled. "I could smell the stench of goat's blood miles away, so I popped in to see what they were doing."

"You can't just let them-"

"Relax, Sammy. I'm going to stop them. I actually hate human sacrifices." You turned around and smiled wide when you looked over at Sam. His brows furrowed, confused by your sudden change in mood, but when your eyes looked down at his shirt, he knew what you were about to say. "You're wearing orange."

He rolled his eyes. "I had nothing else to wear."

"You're wearing orange because I said you looked good in it, aren't you? Don't be embarrassed, Sammy, you look absolutely-"

"Don't you have a virgin sacrifice to interrupt?"

Your mouth formed an 'o' as if you just remembered why you were here. You told him to wait one moment before you disappeared behind the red fabric.

Screams filled the abandoned warehouse, but they didn't belong to the woman. The stench of blood and mutilated flesh hung in the air around Sam. It was a smell he was sure you were used to, but he almost lost his lunch thanks to it. When the screaming stopped, Sam thought the worst of it was over until he heard one of the boys beg for their lives. A wretched sob and a plea to be better interrupted by the sound of him choking on his own blood.

You escorted the woman out quietly. The poor thing trembled in your arms, yet it seemed you weren't the thing she was terrified of. You may have been a demon, but the monsters were the men willing to sacrifice her in the name of someone who didn't want human sacrifices to begin with. Well, Nat only liked sacrifices if the one dying was wicked, but that was another story.

The woman thanked you, tears and snot streaming down her face as she clutched onto your torso. You grimaced but did not pull away. Human comfort wasn’t something you fully understood, but you knew she needed a good hug right now, so you let it slide.

"Is there anything I can do to repay you?" She sobbed.

Sam shook his head. He knew what you were about to say - she could offer her soul in exchange for helping her. Demons were all the same. They acted like what they did was for the benefit of others, but it always came at a price. A price the humans could barely afford. And just when he started to believe you did this out of whatever goodness you had in your heart, you were going to prove to him that you were just like every other demon.

"You owe me nothing." He sucked in a sharp breath. That wasn't what he was expecting at all. "Except…maybe don't go on dates with people you meet in cemeteries. This is New Orleans, you can meet better men at the bars."

She nodded and made her way out of the warehouse. You weren't worried about her spreading the tale of what happened today because she could be accused of murder if she did. No one would ever buy the tale that a demon swooped in and killed everyone just to save her. The witches of the French Quarter might, but they weren't lawyers who could bust her out of jail.

You noticed Sam staring at you and huffed. "What? Do you not approve of me killing those bastards?"

"No, I…" He trailed off for a moment, eyes wandering over every inch of your blood covered body. He wasn't looking at you but trying to look through you and understand why you would do something like spare that woman's soul. "I don't understand why you didn't make a deal with that woman."

You shrugged. You felt no need to explain yourself to him.

"Wait, when you offered to exchange a soul for Lilith's knife, did you even have a soul to offer?"

"Several."

"Ones that aren't centuries old."

"Why does it matter how old they are? A soul is a soul, right?"

It hit Sam that you probably haven't made a deal since you first became a demon. There was a time where Nat required every demon to make deals with people, but even she grew bored of the lifestyle. Many demons continued making deals and ruining people's lives, but Sam wondered when you stopped - and why. You spent most of your days following him around just to bother him, which meant you didn't have much time to harvest souls of the innocent. So, why? Why did you stop, and why did you make it seem like it wasn't a big deal?

You turned away to avoid any questions he was inevitably going to throw at you. You walked around the body parts and looked through the trinkets they gathered for the sacrifice. It was a long shot, but you wanted to see if they got their hands on Lilith's knife. A small bubble of excitement burst in you when you saw a black dagger resting on the table, but you knew it wasn't the right one as soon as you touched it. No magic, no power. Just a boring kitchen knife dipped in paint.

He watched you look around in disappointment. Questions bombarded his mind, made him wonder what else he didn't know about you - what else he might have gotten wrong. You were still a demon, though, and he would never be able to look past that.

When your search turned up empty, you focused right back on Sam and the dark orange V-neck he wore. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he wore that shirt for you. And you knew it.

"So," you began with a smile, "I find it adorable that you are wearing more orange for me. Very fall…very romantic, if you ask me."

"I didn't wear it for you," he quipped. "I told you, I had nothing else to wear."

"Mhm, so you said. Well, if you don't like it, you could always just take it off. I wouldn't mind." You ran your finger along his exposed collarbone, and he quickly swatted at your hand.

"There is nothing sexy about you asking me to take off my shirt when it smells like blood."

You giggled, something that should have been adorable yet somehow sounded evil coming from your lips. "You'll get used to it after a while, but I'll let you change the subject for now. I know it's probably not good for God's favorite to be aroused at the idea of taking me on a sacrificial altar."

Sam deadpanned, and you practically howled out a laugh. He made it far too easy to get under his skin. As much as you would have liked for him to ravish you then and there, you were perfectly satisfied knowing you managed to annoy him. It was the second greatest pleasure in your life, next to torturing evil assholes who thought the world belonged to them.

You tried to turn the conversation back to Lilith's knife. You hoped that your display of mercy would make him willing to give up its location, but he stood his ground. He vowed to never let you see the knife, even if you did swear not to use it on the angels. The knife's power was too much for one to handle; he couldn't guarantee that after you used it on the rowdy demon faction, you wouldn't just turn around and use it on him or his brothers. Once the knife got a taste for blood, it always wanted more.

No matter what you told him about the threats of war in Hell and on Earth, he refused you. His stubbornness made your jaw clench, but you knew when to pick your battles. When the precious humans were in danger, he would be willing to give it up. Despite not wanting for it to get that bad, you knew it was the only way.

So, you'd wait, and until then, you'd drive him crazy with your flirtatious comments.

The next few days were…off, to say the least. You spent a lot of your time trying to get a feel for Sam's godly aura - something that had a distinct smell and feel to it most angels didn't even realize - but there was nothing. Every corner you turned, every chapel you visited, was hollow. Cold and empty, much like the feeling in your chest the longer you didn't see him. You knew it was possible he was just avoiding you, but you couldn't help but feel a little dreadful.

If something happened to Sam, you'd unleash Hell on earth. You would rip through every being you had to in order to get to him. The heavens haven't seen true bloodshed until you've put your mind to it, especially if you were going to avenge your non-existent lover.

But as you sat in one of Sam's favorite sanctuaries, you wondered if he had finally grown tired of your games. He was an angel after all, and you were nothing but a demon. Scum of the earth; knight of darkness and destruction. A small voice in the back of your head reminded you that you would never be any more to him. You looked around and realized, he might not have been missing at all, he may have just decided you were no longer worthy of his presence. You weren't sure which idea hurt more, and you didn't really want to take time to analyze it.

The funny thing about sadness is that it eats you from the inside. The harder you try to push it down, the more power you seem to give it. Even as you sat there, staring at the ethereal paintings on the ceiling, you couldn't stop the sadness from burning a hole into your heart. You closed your eyes and exhaled, feeling the heat from all the Bibles burning around you. And you smiled - not fully, but enough to push down the sadness once more.

"Where is my brother?" You opened your eyes and looked over at Steve, who went to work trying to put out the small fires you set. "For the love of dad, did you really have to burn the Bibles? You could have gone for the hymnals, at least!"

You hummed disinterestedly. "Why are you asking me about Sammy? I figured he went back to Heaven by now."

"He hasn't been home in months, but he usually checked in with me. I haven't heard from him in days now."

Okay, so maybe he was missing, and maybe you were too quick to start throwing yourself a pity party, but could anyone blame you? No one had to know you were willing to burn down a church simply because you thought Sam abandoned you.

"The last I saw Sam he was alive and well, I can promise you," you purred just to get under Steve's skin. "If I'm being honest, though, I haven't seen him since then. He usually pops up to scold me when I start trouble, and I did everything I could to get his attention! I even kicked a toddler, and he never came. I should have realized he could never get bored with me; obviously someone has taken him."

Steve blinked several times, trying his best to process your words. He didn't know where to start - the fact that you both tend to end up in each other's company willingly or that you would go so far as to kick a toddler to see him. He shook his head. How Sam managed to put up with your antics was beyond Steve. He always told his brother that a demon like you wasn't worth watching over, but Sam always had one excuse or another. Lately, he claimed it was to make sure you didn't find Lilith's knife, but even that excuse was flimsy at best.

He wanted to be in your company, and it baffled Steve most of all.

"I'm not going to touch any of that," he quickly shook his head and tried to push the disturbing thoughts out of his head. "Nat said there was rebellion going on in Hell. Do you think demons might have taken him to get under her skin?"

"I wouldn't put it past them, but I honestly think if the demon faction on Earth kidnapped him it's because they want Lilith's knife."

"And let me guess you want me to give it to you."

You nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "If demons are behind Sammy's disappearance, they need to be taken out. Lilith's knife can do that, and you know it!"

"You think I'm foolish enough to give a blade that can kill demons and angels to a psychotic demon with stabbing tendencies?" Steve scoffed. "You're off your rocker even more than usual."

A moment passed, and your passive façade finally cracked. You kicked Steve, full force against his abdomen, and sent him flying towards the altar. He caught himself before he landed on the podium, but he didn't have enough time to block your next blow to his side. You knew it was enough to knock the air from his lungs and catch him off guard, so you quickly grabbed his throat and forced him to his knees. His angel strength usually made him an even match, but your rage was the one thing fueling you. It was too much for him to fight off.

You squeezed until he was gasping for air and slapping at your hands. His eyes grew wide when he looked up at you and realized you were in full demon form - eyes black, teeth pointed behind your sinister snarl, and your skin slowly flaking off and turning to ash. He had never seen you like this, and for once, he feared his life despite knowing you couldn't really kill him.

You leaned in close, letting him get a good whiff of the rotted flesh and brimstone. "Let me make something very clear, Michael, you will give me that knife because the longer you wait, the more danger my Sammy may be in. And if he gets hurt, I will tear the world apart until it rains blood for eternity. You and your daddy will have nothing to protect anymore, do you understand me?"

Steve shuddered as you dropped him to the floor. The use of his real name never brought a chill down his spine until it came from your lips. He knew, somewhere deep inside of him, that you no longer wanted the knife for yourself; you wanted it to end those who dared to take Sam away from you.

Realization dawned on him in that moment. You loved him. It was something he never knew a demon could be capable of, but your protectiveness…your anger…it all made sense now. You wouldn't let anything happen to Sam, and he knew giving you the knife wouldn't be the worst idea. The other angels might frown upon it, but they wouldn't question Steve's judgement. He'd make them understand why he had to, and why you were somehow the most trustworthy person to take it.

"I'll get you the knife," he gasped. "You find out where my brother is, and I will meet you there with the knife."

You slowly turned back into your "presentable" self at his words. The relief that you wouldn't have to torture the information out of Steve flooded you. Sam would be incredibly unhappy if he knew you hurt his family, even if it was a little deserved.

"I can find out within the hour, I have someone who owes me a few favors," you replied. "Keep an eye out for my text. I'll give you the coordinates on where to find me once I know."

Without another word, you disappeared, off to cause trouble wherever you needed to. Steve stood there, hands dropped at his side and a deep sigh escaping his lips. There was one problem to your plan: he didn't have a phone.

The moon just started to rise when you stepped through the dilapidated gates of the cemetery. Fog clung to the ground, making everything damp and humid. Bits of leaves stuck to the bottom of your boots as you walked, but you didn't care. You just wanted to get to Sam.

You felt in your element, oddly enough. Surrounded by darkness, Lilith's knife grasped tightly in your hand. You knew the night would end in a blood bath. The demons weren't going to let Sam go willingly, and you mentally prepared yourself for what he was about to witness. If you lost control, even for a split second, your true form would come out again. You knew he would never love you anyways, but once he got a real look at you, whatever tiny amount of hope you clung onto would be squashed.

None of it mattered, though. You only cared for Sam's safety.

The faction waited for you in one of the larger mausoleums. They almost seemed too relaxed as you walked in, as if the party couldn't start until you arrived. You glanced over and saw Sam bound, gagged, and tossed in the corner. You forced yourself to take a deep breath and not let the rage consume you over the sight of him.

Mystique, the leader of the faction, casually hopped down from the top of the stone casket and made her way to you. Her movements reminded you of a lioness, calm and in control as she stalked closer to her prey. She wasn't scared of you, and that was the one thing you were hoping for; you wanted her to underestimate just how cruel you could be.

She walked around you in circles, taking in your presence with a hungry grin on her face. Her eyes lingered on Lilith's knife longer than anywhere else, but she made no advances to take it from you.

"I see you brought the knife," she practically purred in delight. "I'm surprised the angels were so willing to hand it over, but I see kidnapping one of their own was the best way to get their attention."

"You weren't just trying to get their attention," you replied calmly. "You were trying to get mine as well."

"Well, I did have a feeling taking your lover boy would get you here."

You refused to look back at Sam, even though you wanted to. You had to lie your way out of her trap, and you wouldn't be able to contain yourself if you made eye contact with him in this moment. And you wouldn't be able to hide any of your emotions from Mystique.

"He means nothing to me. He was just a means to get Lilith's knife."

As the words left your mouth, your chest started to ache. You silently prayed - something you never thought you could bring yourself to do - that Sam wouldn't believe your words. Whether he ever planned on loving you back or not, you didn't want him to think you only saw him as a means to an end. If he never gave you the knife, you wouldn't have cared because you got to spend time with him. That was more than enough for you.

"For a demon, you're a terrible liar," Mystique sneered. "I've been watching you two. I know the truth, and honestly? I feel a little sad for you, Y/N."

Your lips formed a tight line, and you took a slow breath through your nose. "Why is that?"

"Because you're dumb enough to think he'll fall for you one day. Do you not see the heartbreak you're setting yourself up for? An angel will never see you as anything but the perverted failure of his father, and you are dumb enough to think he could ever see you as anything else." Her words cut into you, and you had nothing to retort. She was right; you came to terms with this before you ever step foot into his life. You weren't meant to fall for him and yet…you did. You tricked yourself. "Even Nat believes she is better than us, it's why we needed to take action! Can't you see? We're your family. We're able to give you what these angels never could - power and belonging. I know you crave both despite all your past protests."

She wrapped her arm around your shoulders and forced you to look at Sam. Her lips were next to your ear, and though you couldn't see it, you knew she was smirking. "All you have to do is kill him. Kill Gabriel and we'll accept you into our group. I can be a fair better leader than Nat ever could."

Sam's eyes grew wide as you stalked towards him. Mystique's words ran through your mind on a constant loop. He would never see you as anything other than a demon; he would never be able to love you the way you so desperately desired. The longer you stared at him, the easier it was to come to terms with that. But it didn't mean he deserved to die.

"There is one thing I think you are forgetting in all of this," you finally said, turning your back on Sam to face Mystique.

"And what is that, my dear?"

You shoved the knife through her throat, ignoring the spray of blood hitting your face. The other demons stood, ready to attack, but they faltered when they realized no one was going to give them an order. Mystique was too busy choking on her own blood.

Just before the light faded from her eyes, you leaned in close and whispered, "You get on my last fucking nerve."

You pulled the knife out and let her body drop to the ground. She was gone for good this time. Wherever the beings went when they were killed with Lilith's knife, you knew it wasn't Hell; she would never be able to crawl her way back to Earth and cause more trouble.

The other demons stood in shock as you stepped over her body. They didn't want to fight in you in fear of losing their own lives, but as you flipped the knife in your hand, they knew they had no choice. You weren't going to let any of them walk out of there alive. They started too much trouble for you and for Nat. This was your way of tying up loose ends.

You gave them props for putting up a good enough fight. They weren't coordinated without Mystique telling them what to do, but they tried their best. Even when bodies started to drop, and the smell of blood lingered heavily in the air, they fought tooth and nail to get away from you. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough. Not a single demon stepped through the mausoleum doors alive. Well, besides you of course, but that was kind of obvious.

Once everyone was taken care of, you made your way over to Sam. You looked him over several times, and a pout began to form on your lips.

"You're not wearing orange today!" You whined as you pulled the rag from his mouth. "I thought we agreed you'd wear orange the rest of your life for me."

He let out an exasperated breath. "You're insane, you know that?"

"Well I heard-"

"If quote Alice in Wonderland and tell me all the best people are crazy, I'm going to shoot you," Sam grumbled, kicking away the ropes from his ankles in a hurry.

You beamed over at him. It was the kind of smile that made you look unhinged, and the blood spattered on your cheeks didn't help. "Ooh, gunplay? Sounds kinky, I'm in! But I'm pretty sure you don't even know how to work a gun, so I'll have to teach you."

"Please don't."

Sam took your hand and allowed you to help him stand. He had been tied up for days, and he caught himself using the wall to keep himself from tipping over again as the blood started to rush to his limbs again. He noticed how you stayed close enough to catch him if he fell over but kept your distance to give him some space. You assumed he needed a break from being surrounded by demons, and you weren't entirely wrong. He just didn't include you in the list of demons he wanted to stay away from.

You quietly let him pull himself together and got to work on piling the demons' bodies on top of each other. Not many groundskeepers entered mausoleums, but you didn't want to risk anyone finding them. You made a mental note to return with some lighter fluid and take care of the remains before the sun rose. It wouldn't please Nat to know you left bodies out in the open for anyone to find.

Sam tried to shift his weight onto one foot, and he grunted in surprise when a sharp pain shot through his ankle. You were by his side instantly, using your shoulder support most of his weight.

"Are you okay?" You asked, searching his face for any signs of discomfort.

He nodded. "I'm not sure how, but I think they might have broken my ankle. It should heal soon, though."

"Let's get you to a safe place to rest. I need to get the knife back to Steve, and we don't really need any other demons stumbling on your injured self."

"You're actually giving the knife back?" His surprise made you wince. You told him the only thing you needed the knife for was the get the demon faction under control, but he never believed you.

Because you're a demon, your thoughts reminded you.

"I told you I only needed the knife for one thing Sammy," you huffed and helped him step out into the cemetery. "I would never lie to you."

Sam said nothing, but he quietly examined the side of your face as you walked together. He wasn't sure what he felt in that moment besides confusion. Deep down, he already knew you weren't one to lie to him, but he didn't understand why. Why you went to great lengths just to save him. Why you hated virgin sacrifices and didn't take souls. Why you spent most of your time around him when you could have been doing anything else. You were supposed to be a typical demon consumed by a lust for blood, sex, and souls, yet you had proven time and time again that you were far from his expectation.

He wondered if Mystique had been right - were you in love in with him? The thought of you being in love with him made him question everything he thought he already knew.

He couldn't bring himself to understand why he liked the way you flirted him, or why he wore orange just to see you smile. He easily could have gone back to Heaven by now, but he always found an excuse to stay. To see you.

As you escorted him through the gates and far away from the stench of blood, he sucked in a sharp breath. Perhaps Mystique wasn't right about everything. She claimed Sam could never see you as anything but a demon, but as he looked up at you now, that was the last thing on his mind. All he saw was the woman he finally admitted to himself he was in love with.

You slipped into the pew beside Sam, who had fully recovered from last night's incident. You were exhausted after spending your night burning bodies and tracking down Steve to return the knife. Even he seemed surprised you gave it up willingly, but you didn't bother to banter with him about it. You were tired of the angels always thinking the worst of you.

You leaned your head against Sam's shoulder, half-expecting him to pull away in disgust, but he didn't. He sat there in silence as you closed your eyes and let yourself relax for a few moments.

The silence between you two wasn't uncomfortable. Both of you felt like you had been to Hell and back, and not much needed to be said about that. You were still covered in blood, and your clothes reeked of burnt flesh. Sam, who was fully healed, rubbed at his wrists to try and get the phantom feeling of the rope away. You almost made a joke about how a fucked up demon sat next to an equally fucked up angel, but the humor died on your tongue before you could get it out. It was just too much effort.

Sam sighed and pressed his cheek against the top of your head. "She was wrong, you know."

"About what?" You murmured so softly, you weren't sure you spoke out loud.

"About my feelings for you."

You sat up and groaned, feeling all of your muscles groan along with you. "Don't tease me, Sam. It actually hurts my feeling for you to lie to me like this."

"I'm not lying!"

"Sure, you're not."

He grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. The sincerity in his eyes made your stomach churn. You knew how this played out because he wasn't supposed to love you; he wasn't supposed to see you as anything but a demon. Not a single celestial being would ever approve of him falling in love with you, and you would never be able to find peace.

"Listen to me," he began with a small, hopeful smile, "I love you. Do I fully understand it? Absolutely not. You're crazy, and I'm pretty sure you kill pedophiles for breakfast. You also willingly kick toddlers, which I don't approve but…I love you."

"No one will approve us being together, you know," you whispered as if someone was already listening in on you. "Not God, not Nat, not Steve. They'll always have something to say about us."

"Then let's get out of here for a bit."

"Where?"

"Anywhere you want to go." You quickly glanced to the side, and he rolled his eyes. "If you make another comment about that confessional booth, I will lose my mind."

You softly laughed and leaned in ever so slightly. You were officially invading his space, but you weren't making the first move yet. You wanted to give him one last chance to change his mind, to come to his senses or whatever it was he needed to do, before he turned his back on everything he knew just to be with you. Would it hurt? Absolutely. But you needed to know that this was going to last between you two. You weren't sure if you could live with the heartbreak of losing Sam.

"I think you've already lost your mind, Sammy," you teased. "You want to be with a demon after all."

He cupped your cheek in his hand, gently stroking your bottom lip with his thumb. It was an act so intimate, it almost caught you off guard. He stared at you silently before his lips finally met yours, and you nearly collapsed into his arms with how ecstatic you were to finally get a taste of him.

The kiss was hungry - full of teeth and breathless groans. You were exploring every inch of each other that you possibly could without tearing each other's clothes off. Sam practically came to life underneath you as his hands roamed up your side. Your name died on his lips - a prayer only you could hear. You thought about pulling back and reminding him that you were in the house of his father, but that would require you to stop kissing him, and you had no intention of stopping any time soon.

When he finally pulled away from, your chests were heaving, and you smiled over at him. He appreciated how gentle your smile seemed now. Even with the dried blood on your skin, there was a warmth in your eye that made your smile fill his chest with joy. A lot less unhinged, he would say.

"So," you pushed his back against the pew and crawled onto his lap, your knees straddling either side of his thighs, "You said we could go anywhere in the world, right?"

"Besides the confessional booth," he retorted with a smile as he caressed the side of your face.

You paused, trying to get used to him looking at you like you were the only woman in the universe. It felt odd but not entirely in a bad way. You spent most of your time denying he could ever look at you this way, and here he was, proving your doubts wrong. You weren't sure if it made you want to cry or kiss him until he caved and pulled you right into the confessional.

He claimed you wouldn't convince him, but you'd get him to crack one day.

"Besides the confessional booth," you laughed. "I spent a lot of time here, pestering you and scaring children in the cemetery. I think it'd be nice to get out of the country, explore the world a little bit."

"You haven't done that already?"

You shook your head. "I spent a lot of time staying close to Nat. She needed a strong right-hand woman, and I was the one who wanted to fill the job. I mean, Maria is great, but she's better at handling souls and all their pesky little contracts."

"Where do you want to go then? We can go anywhere you want, and we can get there for free thanks to my wings."

"Can I convince you to give the confessional booth a whirl?"

Sam sighed dramatically, not in annoyance but enough to make you laugh. "Absolutely not."

"Fine," you pouted. "I guess we can start with Greece, as long as you agree to wear your orange v-neck again."

#buckysknifecollectionchallenge #sam wilson x reader #angel!sam wilson #demon!reader #sam wilson one shot #sam wilson fanfiction #sam wilson fanfic #sam wilson fic #angel au #marvel one shots #marvel imagines #marvel fanfiction #marvel fics #sam wilson x you #angel!sam x demon!reader

204 notes · View notes

adonis-koo · 5 years ago

Text

tease

| 16 |

↳ Summary: You came with the intentions of your best friend landing a job as a stripper. You never meant to catch the eyes of the king stripper of the establishment- Jeon Jungkook, yourself. With what was supposed to be a harmless way of paying off college debt faster you find yourself falling into a very odd and passionate relationship with your new mentor. Between infidelity, passion and jealousy there’s never a dull moment at Cherry Bomb.

↳ Pairing: Stripper!Jungkook/Reader

↳ Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, drama, slice of life, relationship problems without the relationship, reader is such a shy baby protect her, MUTUAL pining, so much sexual frustration,

Word Count: 12k

Previous | Next

Song Mood

Warning: This story touches on both sexual harassment and abuse, please read with caution if any of these things are triggers to you. Additional warnings will be given when a chapter presents them.

TW: There is a lot of implied dubious sex and implied rape/sexual harassment in this chapter, if any of these are triggers please read with caution 🖤

You wouldn’t deny, you felt extremely excited while standing in the large room, vanity lights in classic Vegas style were lit up above the long vanity table, the standing hanging rack had all your costumes on it and while your name wasn’t in plaque it was hastily written on a taped up piece of paper. These people actually considered you a soloist….only by definition considering it was your last week...But still, it was exciting!

Taking a seat in the cushioned chair you got to work on your makeup to begin with, it was Vegas, and considering this was a VIP party you figured it would be okay to really go all out cutcrease makeup, sharp wings and eyelashes that could be mistook for fans, the whole nine yards. You had originally gone to skip a song on your phone, what you hadn’t expected was paragraph long message from the last person on your mind.

Seriously? No seriously…? Annoyance twisted and snapped in your veins like a wildfire, as you continuously reread the text, did Seulgi ever truly know you at all? Where was this message when your relationship was toxic with Jungkook? Where was she when Hanjae broke into your apartment? Where was she when you completely ruined your first ever soloist performance? Where was she when you actually needed her?

You hadn’t even realized your hands were trembling or heard the knock on the door until the familiar voice of Jimin interrupted you, “Y/n! Y/n? Hey, you’re on in ten, why aren’t you dressed?”

Your gaze snapped from your phone to the blonde before you rubbed your forehead, you didn’t have time for her issues right now, it would just have to wait. Standing up you pressed your lips together before sighing, “Sorry, Seulgi just sent me a paragraph text,” You pulled the oversized shirt over your head as you walked over to the costume rack, you already had your lingerie set underneath but it was always more comfortable to get ready in loose clothing, “Out of the blue! Seriously, what is her problem?”

You could hear Jimin snort behind you in amusement as you pushed your shorts down, looking over your shoulder with an ungrateful expression to which he straightened up at, “Ah sorry. Honestly? She’s probably just jealous...I mean, think about it, you were chosen to be trained by the most popular stripper in Cherry Bomb when you had no intention of even becoming a stripper at all, you were chosen to become a temporary soloist and now you made it on the list for Seasonella as a soloist and she didn’t even make the cut at all.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, your fingers still coiled against the black pencil skirt that sat at your hips as you turned to face Jimin, “...She didn’t make the list…?” Yikes... Suddenly her message made a lot more sense...Not so much her message, but the timing of it. You glanced back at the costume rack, suddenly feeling a mix of both pity yet anger, this was your job, not high school cheer tryouts! “I honestly don’t know what to do with her anymore, I mean...Sure I feel bad she didn’t make the list, but is it really that big of a deal?”

“Not really, but strippers are considerably catty,” Jimin leaned against the back of the couch as he shrugged, “Seulgi honestly fits the filler role perfect. It’s a shame really, she has all the potential to become a soloist.”

You couldn’t help but tilt your head at his works, pulling the sheer button up top over your head before semi tucking it in, “Well somebody needs to tell her that so she’ll get off my ass. Don’t get me wrong, I understood at first Jimin, I really did,” Your eyes were semi glossed and pleading before you sighed, gritting your teeth, “But now it’s just petty.”

“Well that’s the thing,” Jimin snorted a laugh as you pulled the brown trench coat over your shoulders, “Don’t you get it Y/n?” You paused at his words, his smile playful as he began laughing, as if he knew a secret you didn’t, “That’s her problem. Seulgi needs to constantly be petted, the only person that’s holding her back from becoming a soloist is herself, if she didn’t need to be groomed and the center of attention constantly, if she’d just shut up and do the work that’s needed without constantly being praised for it. She’d easily make it to the top. But because she can’t, because she’s used to everyone telling her how amazing she is, she’s never going to get there.”

Jimin tucked his tongue into his cheek as he scoffed, “People like that annoy the fuck out of me. That’s what makes you different from her, yeah you were coddled by Jungkook in the beginning, but you never expected that out of him. You never anticipated any of us drowning you in praise and telling you ‘you’d definitely become a soloist;. No, you struggled like most of us did in the beginning, you worked your ass off in the beginning and now it’s paying off. That’s her problem.”

Your lips parted at his words, rather shocked to see Jimin feel so defensive for you. Pressing your lips together as you fiddled with your jacket, you never realized he felt so strongly about your situation with Seulgi, “...Do you think I’ve changed?” That was the one thing that bothered you, this whole time Seulgi kept proclaiming you had changed, was it really that bad?

“Yeah,” Your gaze snapped to Jimin’s figure as he shrugged, pushing his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, presumably what he was wearing for the stage, “But change isn’t always a bad thing Y/n. Don’t let people hold you down just because they want to stay the same.”

Sighing, you wrapped your arms around yourself as you leaned against the wall, thinking on his words. You supposed, Jimin was right, change wasn’t always a bad thing. And looking back, maybe you had changed?

But it’s like he said, it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, you needed that change to happen. Or else things with Jungkook would have exploded and you could have potentially ruined your relationship with him. Your heart trembled at that idea, the memory of him and you both distant but still fresh. Jungkook was so important to you, you couldn’t lose him, and you changed not for him, but for yourself. So had he.

“I didn’t take you for a therapist Jimin.” You glanced up as a mutual smile pulled on both your and his lips as you shared a laugh, shaking your head as you stepped into your heels, “Thanks though,” You furrowed your brows before smiling a little, glancing up at him as you nodded, “I...I think I needed to hear that. I should make my way backstage, good luck!”

Jimin tipped his fedora at you with a wink as he replied, “Too you as well, you’ll need it. Cya Y/n.”

Keeping his words in mind you gave yourself a mini pep talk as you made your way backstage, it was even more crowded here then at a busy day at work and it was more chaotic than you could have ever imagined. You could do this. Being on stage wasn't what made you nervous anymore. It was getting off stage and finding out just what exactly Seasonella was.

The stage manager nodded in acknowledgement as you stood off to the side, peering out from behind the stage where your heart did a little leap at the sight of Jungkook. Swallowing the lump in your throat at how good he looked in a three piece suit and his gelled, styled hair. He must have just started his routine, his music was bassy and slow and the floor he stood on wafted with smoke, presumably from dry ice off stage.

Wrapping your arms around yourself you watched the way he easily swiveled his hips turning away from the audience, popping the jacket off his shoulders, oddly enough despite the large crowd nobody seemed to even be paying attention besides a few whistles here and there. Glancing over his shoulder he offered a sultry smirk, even after all this time he never failed to make your heart race and your face flushed as you dropped your gaze. He wasn’t even looking at you, in fact, he probably didn’t even know you were next in line up. Jungkook’s routine was slow and easy going as he began to shed his clothes, as if he was in no real hurry, soaking up his time on stage.

He really was a natural.

Just the way his hips would slowly roll before snapping, those large calloused hands slowly running up against his chest to pop the first button of his white button up. You could easily see why Jungkook thrived in this environment, now thinking about it. It was easy because it was only skin deep, Jungkook was comfortable in his body and it showed, being a stripper was hard, but it was only skin deep, you didn’t have to get personal or open up to anyone in this business.

But even with all of that in mind, his eyes, it was always his eyes that showed when he wasn’t feeling his performance, when something was on his mind. Nobody ever seemed to notice it but you. No matter how many smirks and teasing smiles Jungkook flashed it was his eyes that seemed...disinterested? Maybe...maybe even upset?

You didn’t like it, it drove your instincts wild with a need to sit on his lap and grab his face to look at you and ask him what was wrong, but then again, did you really need to? Given what had happened this morning? He was upset when you pushed him away, hell he was upset when he left after his shower. Neither of you had spoken when he left either, he just kept looking at you, longingly, as if hoping maybe you’d speak to him, to give him a chance.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to speak to him, it was just...what was there to even talk about? He wasn’t going to convince you this was okay, because it wasn’t. None of this was okay. You didn’t like being on terms like this with him, but what else was there to discuss? It was what it was, all either of you could do was do your job.

It wasn’t like you were mad at him, Jungkook was a stripper, but so were you. Yes it was upsetting and it hurt that he’d be sleeping with other people, but so were you...You sighed, massaging the temple of your head as you watched his hand slip down to squeeze the thick imprint that pressed against his slacks. You couldn’t stop the quirk in your lips at the sight, even when he was upset he still managed to sport a boner, of course he could.

It was odd watching him pop the button of his slacks, usually by this point girls were practically screaming, but instead it was quiet besides the song that played as the slacks fell off his thick muscular thighs that flexed. You were semi perplexed at the sight of Versace strapped against his skin rather than his regular Calvin Kleins, you couldn’t help but grind your teeth at the idea of that girl buying them for him. It had to be her. Eva.

Was she out in the crowd somewhere enjoying the show? Or was she intending on making him strip again just for her in private. The idea made you livid and the intense desire to jab her eyes out for even looking at what was yours. It was hard to imagine you were actually blushing and melting into your chair when you first laid eyes on Jungkook’s figure on stage. Now you just felt a vague sense of depression watching him hook his thumbs to the band of his boxers.

Maybe it was a sense of defeat that you felt watching him proudly flaunt his hardened cock on stage. A part of you couldn’t help but snicker though, it was so typical of him. Exibitionism was one of his biggest kinks after all. His song had come to an end, the stage lights dimming as people rushed past you, a robe in hand for Jungkook as he came off stage.

No words were spoken, your gaze only catching his for a second before you were being ushered on stage. Nodding you hurried out in the blackout. Leaning against the pole you made yourself comfortable, it wasn’t time to think anymore. All you had to do was dance.

The lights immediately flickered on as the intro of your music started out, the smirk immediately pulling on your lips as you turned your head to face the crowd. Most of the crowd wasn’t even paying attention to you, some people seated others standing and talking to one another. What even was Seasonella for? Just connection building for the wealthy?

Letting your hands drag up your body, you slide down the pole letting your legs open naturally before letting your knees drop to let your hands support you on the ground. Your face pressing against the ground as you let your hand circle around your face. Just who were these nameless faces? Just like Jungkook, you weren’t at your best performance. Not that anyone could tell as you rolled to your back letting your legs raise up and set against the pole before letting one slide down as your hands squeezed up your chest, the smile teasing on your lips as you sent a wink out to the crowd.

That's when you saw him though, Jungkook fully dressed once more, hair damp from sweat and still adjusting the buttons of his loose black button up, his gaze not on Eva who was excitedly waiting for him, instead he was watching you as he ran a hand through his hair.

Letting your legs open slightly you sat up with your thighs sandwiched between the pole as you rested your head against it, letting the jacket fall off your shoulders as you sent a flirty gasp at the crowd before letting it drop to the ground.

Making your way to stand up you swayed your hips as you turned to face the crowd, a smug look twisting on to your features at the sight of Eva obviously not happy at your boyfriend checking you out. Keeping a wide stance you dropped slightly to circle your ribs while letting your hands drag up your thighs, teasingly pulling your skirt up higher. Turning to face the wall you curved your spine to highlight your ass as you teased even more, pulling the skirt up to flash the lingerie you wore before tugging the skirt back down.

You noticed whatever position Jungkook was in he must have left, or maybe Eva had dragged him away at the short time span your back was facing the audience, regardless they couldn’t have left already, right? Pulling your shirt from it’s tuck in your skirt you pulled it out farther as you sunk back down to a slut drop, they couldn’t have gotten far.

Just as you stood back up, hooking your thumb beneath the fabric of your top, a smirk flashed towards the audience that only a few eyes watched you curiously with, that’s when your eyes tracked that messy head of hair again. Jungkook was sitting down, his arm wrapped around Eva who was more than happily snuggled against him, chatting away with what appeared to be her friends. The other person who had stuck out to you was Diego who sat at their table, his eyes however, unshockingly were roaming your body.

You decided to pay him no mind as you pulled the shirt over your head, letting your upper body become exposed and the glittery, strappy push up bra become displayed. Maybe you were just imagining it but you could have swore Eva had jumped in Jungkook’s tightening grip. His eyes also on you while occasionally glaring daggers at Diego. God you would kill to be listening to that conversation.

Letting your hips sway softly you strutted further up stage, your arms over head before they groped their way down your body. Turning to face away from the crowd you looked over your shoulder, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you reached for the clasp of your bra. Unhooking it before letting it drop to the ground leaving your bare back on display.

Turning to face the audience you let your hips begin to sink once more as you let them sway hiding your breasts teasingly behind your hands that began to massage them. It was weird, being in a reversed role where it was your eyes that met Jungkooks from the stage, rather than the other way around.

Except rather than squirming in embarrassment Jungkook had zero shame in letting his eyes roam all over your body, his lip catching between his teeth and you were all too familiar with that dark look in his eyes. His chin lifting a little in that standoffish, domineering way it always did when he got turned on.

You however, weren’t yourself at the moment. Rather shy away from his gaze you welcomed it, letting your lips twitch back into a cocky smirk as your hands traveled down your body, your tits perking a little in arousal as your hands slid down your skirt. You could practically see the way Jungkook was eye fucking you, his hand that about been resting on the table curling into a fist and his expression becoming darker by the moment.

You hadn’t said anything, hell you hadn’t even done anything, but you could tell he wanted to put you over his lap. And there was nothing he could do about it. Something about being aware of that practically made your confidence shoot through the roof as you sent him a playful wink. Effortlessly pushing down the skirt that complied, hitting the ground to reveal the almost light golden, sequin g string you wore beneath, the sheer gold stockings and garter belt to match on display. You could even hear a few whistles from the audience only making you that much cockier.

And Jungkook was livid. So livid. Despite sitting far away you could see the way his jaw clenched and his fist uncurled and impatiently tapped against the table, as if itching to get his hands on you. Arousal instantly shot between your legs, his dark, lust filled gaze making your body anxious granted this was the most inconvenient timing ever.

If they saw you wet, then that’s just what was gonna happen, you’d just blame it on Jungkook given he was the reason you were in this state. There was no point in worrying about it now. With that in mind you sunk to the ground, crawling out on your hands and knees, letting your tits bounce a little as you dropped to your forearms. Jungkook leaned back in his seat, the vein on his neck popped and you could even see his chest puffing a little.

The sight made you want to laugh, and for a split second a genuine smile wiggled it’s way onto your lips, before the seductive one quickly took back over as your thighs slid to the ground. Rolling on to your back your vision of him was upside down but that didn’t deter you from letting your hands drag back up your body, letting them squeeze against your breasts as your thighs rubbed together, warm arousal beginning to make your panties stick your folds as you let your body begin to roll as your hips thrusted upwards.

Your hands sliding back down your body as you began to tug your panties off, gaze never breaking away from Jungkook’s figure, that looked close to a starved man ready to sit between your thighs at the moment. Your panties were unshockingly wet as you kicked them off. As if you weren’t aroused before you certainly were now, naked on stage for the whole floor to see. But with your eyes locked with Jungkook’s it wasn’t like that, it was just you and him at the moment. No party, no one else, just you and him.

Pulling yourself to sit up you turned to face the audience once more on your knees, a cocky smile tugging on your lips as you let them slide apart. Your cunt was aching and glistening at being exposed as your hands ran up your body, playing with your hair as you heard another round of whistles.

But this wasn’t about them, this was about Jungkook’s clenched jaw and the way he bounced his knee impatiently, the way his fingers twitched against his glass and his eyes roaming all over your exposed body. You didn’t need to see his lap to know he was hard. Crawling back on your hands and knees one last time you sent a one more wink to the audience before rolling to the side. Sitting upright as you finished your last pose.

The lights went black as you quickly stood up. Walking off stage as best you could in your heels as you grabbed the robe from one of the stage assistants. Wrapping it around your body you let a giggle escape your lips.

Jungkook was turned on, but so were you. You’ll forever have the look on his face stained in your head, maybe something you both could laugh over later and then bang because it would make him horny.

Walking back to your dressing room you closed the door. Kicking off your heels as you pulled your hair up into a bun to focus on getting dressed. Sitting down you unclipped your stockings before walking over to your bag. You supposed your black mini dress would do, and maybe you’d wear a pair of your black fishnet stockings to go with it? Biting against your lip you figured that would do it before getting changed. Fixing the deep v neck that plunged, showing off your cleavage before pulling out a black pair of pumps to match.

You wouldn’t be able to talk to Jungkook...but maybe taking Diego up on his offer meant you could see him more? It was a gamble. Nibbling against your lip you fixed your hair in the mirror, putting your phone in the cup of your bra before adjusting it to not make it look obvious. Would you even want to see him this weekend?

Regardless Diego Friar might as well have been a pile of money sitting at your doorstep, he would be paying you for your company and you knew he’d pay well. This was why you were doing this after all. This was supposed to justify the means. Somehow. Nodding you stood up before heading out. Soloist’s seemed to do more of the entertaining for the guests than actually dancing, although you couldn’t say it was completely true for you. You still had five more dances to get through tonight but at least you had a good hour break before going on back to back.

Did they really only keep you here as prostitutes? You couldn’t help but wonder about that question, hardly anyone even watched you show. Pushing the door open to enter into the main room you let your eyes wash over the crowd. Why not just hire prostitutes?

It was legal here in Nevada, why make the strippers do it under dubious consent? Surely the clients budget wasn’t that tight. You supposed there was no point in making sense of it. While Diego would pay for your company, you wouldn’t lie if you said there weren't any underlying motives here. Diego was the client's son, surely he’d know what was going on...Not that you assumed he’d willingly tell you but...A little investigating wouldn’t hurt, right?

You knew the only thing you needed to focus on was getting to the end of the weekend, but you couldn’t help but wonder, if something illegal was going on here, shouldn’t somebody stop it? Stopping in front of the table you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you to see Diego standing up, as if waiting confidently, knowing you would come to this table.

“That was some performance doll.” He sent you a wink, his lips quirked into a smirk confidently, as if you had completely done that just for him. Had Diego not caught on between you and Jungkook? Or was he really that distracted by your body?

You offered a small smile in return as you wrapped your arms around yourself, “I told you I was saving my energy. So I was thinking,” You stretched your sentence as a playful smile tugged on your lips, “About your deal.”

Diego’s smirk was only reinforced by your words as he confidently strode up to you, “And?” The idea of sleeping with Diego was... less than appealing... but you had a lot of options to weigh here. The first being you were likely to see Jungkook more often, the second being you wouldn’t be passed from creep to creep and the third and last option was the one which wasn’t a good idea.

You wanted to know why the hell Seasonella existed, what was its purpose, who were these people? Diego was the client's son, if somebody knew the ropes of this party, it was him.

‘I’ve heard all kinds of rumors about our strippers coming here and not returning to Korea because of being difficult’

That’s the same words Jungkook told you. He wanted you to just go with the flow so nothing happened to you. Going with Diego was both the safest and most dangerous option, depending on how you played your cards. But you were willing to make a deal with the devil to find out, “I’ll agree to it, with some ground rules,”

Diego chuckled, shifting his weight from one foot to another, running a hand through his hair as he nodded, though it almost seemed vaguely patronizing, “Alright doll, that’s fair enough, what are these rules?”

“Condoms on at all times,” You immediately listed off, attempting to not wrinkle your nose at the idea of feeling him..raw...inside you...it made your stomach churn unpleasantly, “I’m not looking to get knocked up,” You offered a humored smile despite it feeling mildly forced, “And I want my mornings to myself,” You added, remembering Jungkook’s words, him telling you to ask for the mornings so you could at least be together then, “Two rules, and I’m all yours.”

You knew Jungkook wanted nothing more than to make sure you were safe. But you needed answers, you needed to know why this was happening. And furthermore, what part of this was illegal, if any at all.

Diego gave you a smile, his arm immediately wrapping around you as he replied, “Your rules are gold baby. You won’t be disappointed. C’mon, let's get you a drink and sit down.” It felt weird being held by somebody else while sipping on your classic margarita, taking a seat down at the table where Jungkook’s eyes glared at the arm wrapped around your shoulder like it pissed him off. It probably did. You could only hope Jungkook didn’t get the wrong idea about this, you weren’t doing this to spite him.

You did it for multiple reasons, none which even involved him...Well, none that involved him in a bad way. But to see Jungkook so...docile in a situation like this? In a situation “This is Y/n, the lovely doll I’ve been talking about.” Diego introduced you to his friends, mutual friends of Eva as well you assumed. It was coincidental that you and Jungkook just so happened to be sitting on the inside of the table next to one another, a respectful distance between you both given you both were supposed to be closer to each sibling.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You gave a bright smile at the man- Lorenzo who was an italian with a strong accent and didn’t seem incredibly familiar with Koren, but enough that you could hold a steady conversation, he also seemed to be a considerably close friend of Diego’s compared to all of the others, “I hope you’ve been enjoying the show up on stage.”

What you hadn’t expected was a large, wrathful hand to harshly clamp your inner thigh making you nearly choke on your drink, callous fingers digging into your soft skin while roughly massaging closer to your core.

Your eyes sent sharp daggers to Jungkook’s figure, who was innocently on his side of the table, his free arm wrapped around Eva while conversing with her and one of her friends, acting as if he totally wasn’t groping you. This was not the time or place to be doing this!

“Ah yes, you put on quite the show.” You gave a forced smile at Lorenzo as you tried to wiggle your leg from Jungkook's grasp, it was useless though as he squeezed harder, his nails pleasantly digging into your skin as if in warning to stop.

It wasn’t even fair, Jungkook was speaking to Eva and her friends in english which you could only pick bits and pieces of conversation out of while he could hear everything you said. You tried your best, you really did. But Jungkook’s long thick fingers were making it difficult to focus, never quite making it to where you had hoped it would, but just enough to keep you on edge.

Was this some possessive display or reminder to you? You wished you could just ask Jungkook what his problem was. Maybe he was mad you weren’t wearing your collar, but could he really expect you too when...You couldn’t help but shudder. This was going to be a long night.

The night dragged on and admittedly, you couldn’t help but tense at all the pleasantries, you honestly assumed Diego would jump you the moment he got his hands on you but then again, he was from a prestigious family, clearly.

You sighed as you glanced at yourself in the mirror, rubbing the towel over the back of your neck that had broken out in a sweat, you were used to dancing on stage but something about being here had made you nervous. You weren’t sure what it was but the whole vibe of this place put you on edge. Shaking your head you pulled the skirt up to your waist before finishing putting on the rest of your clothes.

Dread filled your stomach but you couldn’t help it, anytime you weren’t dancing you were with Diego, you assumed the moment he got you alone he’d jump you but he had behaved well...But now your night of stripping was over, your body was tired and so were you but...Well you had a feeling the night had only just begun in other ways.

Jungkook had disappeared a while ago with Eva and her friends, he had finished earlier in the night then you but given he was more social it wasn’t a surprise he had stayed to converse with her and her friends. Or maybe it was Eva who wanted to stay longer?

You couldn’t help but feel a simmering anger boil inside you at the idea of someone controlling and dictating the man you loved. You forcibly calmed yourself as you pushed your hair off your shoulder. This wasn’t the time to brood of this, it wasn’t like you could do anything about it. Could you even be mad at Jungkook? No, not when you were with Diego.

Something about the situation made you grit your teeth as you pushed the door to your dressing room open. Why were you so powerless in a situation like this? You had never seen Jungkook let himself be powerless either.

Pausing you glanced at the ground as people rushed past you, the night on stage still very much alive and even busier than you had ever seen before. If Jungkook was too scared to speak up or if he was worried for you, then you’d do it for him. You nodded affirming to yourself.

Whatever the Friar’s were up too....You weren’t just going to sit still and watch your friends get bullied by them. The idea made your lips twitch and your fist coil in anger, why the fuck was nobody saying anything to them!?

Closing your eyes briefly you let your shoulders relax as you began to walk. It’s okay, they have all been there to help you on your feet. Now you’d stand beside them and defend them just as they have you. You didn’t know who these people were but you were going to find out.

Walking out of the back and into the large lounge your eyes scoped Diego who seemed to be talking to two other men...He hadn’t introduced you so they must have been work related contacts.

Walking over you gave a bright smile as Diego’s eyes landed on you, pausing conversation with the two men as he waved you over, “Finished up doll?” You nodded, feigning innocence to the two men’s stares that leered on you as Diego squeezed your chin, “Good. Tell you what baby, how about you head up to my room? I’ll catch up with you soon, I just have some business to take care of.”

You felt an odd shiver down your spine at his words. Business? At three in the morning? You still gave a smile as you nodded, “Of course! I’ll see you soon then.” You winked as you took the passcard from his hand, a charming expression on your face as you nodded to the two men before turning around.

You didn’t like this one bit. You glanced around in hopes of finding a familiar face but everyone seemed foreign to your eyes. Sighing, you shook your head a little, glancing down at the passcard to Diego’s room, number listed on it as you headed for the elevator.

Staying still you intended to enter the elevator only for your eyes to widen at the heated sight as the doors slid open, the familiar head of hair sucking harshly on skin as the woman moaned, Seokjin suddenly straightened up at the sight of you as he coughed harshly.

The girl jumped before turning around as she gave a sheepish smile before glancing up at him with pink cheeks, “Thanks for seeing me down, i’ll see you later.” She winked as she stepped out of the elevator just as you stepped in.

It was quiet for a moment as you and Seokjin awkwardly stood there, “I uh-”

“It’s cool.” You immediately cut him off as you both glanced at each other, unable to keep the awkward tense though as you both let out a small laugh, “She seemed happy.”

“I’d hope so,” Seokjin scoffed, not going into detail but you could tell they obviously had just finished sleeping together, if Seokjin’s sweat drenched and messy hair was anything to go by, his eyes glancing up at the number that ticked up in the elevator, “I’m assuming you’re headed for Diego’s?”

You gave a small nod before sighing, “Yeah...he had ‘business’ to take care of so he’s meeting me later…” You parted your lips for a moment before closing them once more, glancing up at Seokjin’s figure before asking, “...Seokjin…” Gaining his attention he glanced down at you as he raised his brows a little, “What’s going on here?”

You watched his shoulders tense a little as he pressed his lips together, glancing away from you before letting his gaze flicker across the elevator as if searching for something, “...Sometimes...it’s better to be ignorant Y/n,” You frowned at his cryptic words, Seokjin’s gaze on you was like a heavy weight, as if they were drilling through your soul as he continued, “Don’t look for something you’ll regret finding out. I saw Jungkook earlier.” Your frown deepened at his abrupt change of topic.

What was it that they knew that you didn’t? All you had heard were rumors thus far. It was obvious Seokjin and the others knew something was going on, so why weren’t they doing anything about it? Was it really easier to just turn a blind eye to whatever was happening?

Deciding to drop the subject you held in a sigh as you glanced up at the numbers sliding above the door, “Yeah…?” You kept your tone neutral, not wanting to say you didn’t want to hear it, but on the other hand you were a little curious.

“Yeah,” Seokjin clacked his tongue before snorting, “He didn’t look happy. Just kept staring at you on stage like a little puppy before Eva dragged him away.” You didn’t reply to his words for a moment. Were you surprised? No. Did it warm your heart?...Maybe a little...But still, you needed to play your cards carefully. The last thing you needed was Eva catching wind of your relation to Jungkook outside of being his trainee.

“Well he’s just going to have to deal with it.” You replied, not intending to come off as cold as you did making Seokjin turn to face you, his brows raised in somewhat surprise making you sighed as your expression softened a little, “What can I do about it Seokjin? What’s the point in talking about it? It just…” You inhaled sharply before letting it out, “It’s already upsetting, why even talk about it?”

You hadn’t even meant to project onto him, but you couldn’t help it, the early morning of what had happened with Jungkook was still fresh in your mind, what did he want from you? To say it was okay? That it would all be okay? It wasn’t okay! None of this was okay!

Seokjin frowned a little, his own expression softening a little as he nodded solemnly, “I can understand to a degree. But you can’t ignore him forever. What are you gonna do when all of this is over? Pretend like it never happened?”

Glaring down at the floor you didn’t reply for a moment before answering, “I don’t know. And I’m not gonna think about it right now. I have a lot more on my plate to focus on.” The doors slid open with a ding as you glanced ahead. Seokjin frowned at your words, wanting to respond but not having the time as you turned to give him a small smile, “Good luck Seokjin, I’ll see you later.”

Walking out of the elevator you kept a clear head as you walked down the eerily silent hallway, the elevator closed behind you leaving you all by yourself, the corridor was long and if you had gotten too close to a door you could hear soft moans from inside.

Stepping back to keep in center only to jolt at the sound of a loud crash and a muffled scream, “Be quiet you bitch!” Adrenaline shot through your veins at the muffled snarl of a man at the you were about to pass, “I’ll be back soon and you better be fucking prepared to perform again.”

You scrambled away from the door, heart pounding in your chest as the door ripped open, the sounds of sobs inside before the door slammed shut.

Footsteps stomped down the hallway until they could no longer be heard, when you heard the distinct sound of the elevator you timidly turned around...Should you…? Of course you should! Whatever had happened, it didn’t sound good. Nodding to yourself you swallowed thickly as you walked back to the door as you frowned. The sobbing was still muffled but could be heard inside and it was enough to break your heart...It wasn’t your business but…

You gently knocked on the door, no response sounding, just tears. Gently you opened the door, timidly gazing inside only to feel your heart crumble at the familiar sight.

Chan Hee.

Naked yet curled up, not on the bed, but on the ground against it with her knees curled to her chest and tears streaming down her face, an ugly welt on her cheek as her body trembled. Fumbling you closed the door behind you as you rushed up to her figure that seemed so small in comparison to any other time you’ve seen her.

Chan Hee, was the image of confidence, of not caring whether people saw her as bitchy or conceited. To see her so weak, so vulnerable, it crushed you more than you ever thought it would, “Chan Hee?” You weakly called out as you kneeled down, grabbing the throw blanket off the bed as she whimpered, her arms squeezing tightly around her knees, “Y-you should go.” She stammered, tears streaking down her cheeks as you wrapped the blanket around her body, “H-he’ll b-be back soon…”

“I’m not leaving you here by yourself.” You gritted your teeth, brows pinching together in anger as she sniffled, yes you may not have been on the best terms with her but you’d never turn your back to someone in need and right now she needed someone, “For all the differences we might have I would never leave you or anyone else here.”

Her fists coiled around the blanket as she lowered her gaze, trembling as tears dripped down her cheeks, standing up you gathered her clothes that were scattered across the floor before sitting down next to her, “Nobody fucking told me it would be a whore house here.” She sniffed as she gritted her teeth, wiping her eyes once more with trembling hands.

“I was told…” You murmured as you glanced at the floor, Chan Hee glancing at you as she rubbed her eyes, “But I just didn’t listen, didn’t even think about it.” You gave a hurmorless smile at the floor before it dropped, silently berating yourself on how ignorant you chose to be despite the many times Jungkook warned you, “I was so naive and dumb, it didn’t even register in my brain until this morning.

It was quiet for a moment as you both sat in silence before you shuffled, “C’mon, let’s get you dressed. I’d rather not be here when he comes back.” Chan Hee shakily sat herself on the bed, surprisingly letting you help her get dressed.

Her legs were particularly twitchy, her eyes seemed glassy still and her gaze distant, “...I didn’t care at first,” She whispered under her breath, not looking at you as you pulled the top over her head, “...Sex is sex, it was just another tip under my belt...But after the first round...it was just too much,” Her eyes were beginning to water again as she scoffed despite her lips quivering, “...And even when I told him to stop he-” She inhaled, choking back a sob that made your own eyes water.

Kneeling down in front of her you gently grabbed her hands, her gaze was down in her lap as fresh tears trickled down her cheeks, it was odd seeing Chan Hee seem so...ashamed, broken even, “Chan Hee, I know apologizing isn’t going to fix what happened, but I am sorry. It shouldn’t be like this, everything in Seasonella... Come on, where’s your room at? You shouldn’t be subjected to this anymore.”

Chan Hee didn’t reject your movement as you helped her up, your pulse speeding up as you opened the door, timidly glancing around before walking up ahead to the other elevator, only praying you wouldn’t run into the man that did this, “Fifth floor, 32.” She murmured, her body trembling a little as you both got into the elevator.

The strippers floor was quiet, almost all rooms vacant as everyone was out filling client rooms or dancing, you helped Chan Hee into her room as you set her on her bed, feeling a little lost until she weakly laid down, “I’ll be okay,” She murmured, curling up against her covers as she hugged her pillow, “...thank you.” Two words and yet they felt so hopeless and sad, you mustered a small smile as you nodded before reluctantly turning around.

Your thoughts lingered on Chan Hee before flittering to Seokjin’s words, and then briefly they stayed on Jungkook. Sighing you pinched the bridge of your nose as you shook your head, pushing the cardkey into the slot before walking into the large room.

What you didn’t expect was the room to be vacant. You had been gone at least twenty minutes and Diego still wasn’t here? You frowned as you warily stepped into the room, it at first appeared like a lodge of some sort, couches facing each other with a small kitchen at the back wall, up the two steps however was the large king size bed and a desk with a dresser nearby. Despite the room's large size, his main bedroom seemed almost small.

Your eyes honed in on the messy desk, Seokjin’s words replaying in your mind before Chan Hee’s figure reminded you why you were here. Maybe they would pretend like everything was okay and bare it, but you weren’t. Not when stuff like this was happening. Carefully you glanced around the room before looking over your shoulder at the door as you walked up to the desk.

Pushing through some of the paper you frowned as you picked up a document of sorts.

Warehouse 15: Currently full

Shipments will need to be made by the 22nd and deadlines for payments will be cut off by the 25th when the cargo has arrived, we’ll need to gain the last set of the cargo during the weekend of the 18th-

You jumped at the sound of the door closing, hurriedly dropping the document as you swiftly turned around. Diego’s figure was skewered by the corner of the wall, “You’re here.” You welcomed as you painted a smile on your face despite the back of your mind rampantly running at whatever you just read, warehouse 15? What was held in it that was full? And clients? Was this what Seasonella was about? Today was the 18th, the start of the weekend…

“Seems someone is eager to see me.” Diego sent you a wink as he pulled the jacket off as you felt your smile tense a little, he seemed tired as he loosened his tie.

You slowly made your way down the two steps into the main lodge as you sat down on the couch, “Well it was getting a little lonely here...Did you take care of your business?” You asked carefully, keeping your eyes wide and doe like to appear innocent as you folded your hands into your lap.

Diego chuckled a little, unbuttoning his waist coat as he sat down a little closer to you then you would’ve liked but you didn’t move away, “Yes, it’s all finished now. No need to worry about that doll, c’mere.” You squeaked a little at the way his hands grabbed onto your waist, pulling you to straddle his lap.

It felt foreign as you had never slept with a client before and the only man you had slept with in months was...Jungkook...you felt somewhat nauseous thinking about him, thinking about what you were about to do, “You’ve got all my attention now,” Diego licked his lips as he pushed the hair from your face, your body tense as you resisted to pull away from his touch like you wanted.

It wasn’t warm and tender like Jungkook’s, one that made you want to bury further into him. No, this felt somewhat condescending in a way, as if your hand was being twisted behind your back and his grip was lifeless of any sort of care or love, “Relax baby, you seem so tense.” Diego purred as his hands slid to your waist.

You let the smile turn more charismatic as you giggled a little, shrugging as you forced your thoughts into the back of your head, “It’s just been a...long day...but incredible I mean…” You let your smile turn more coy, girlish as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “I’m in Las Vegas, it’s a little overwhelming...I just can’t help but wonder, how did Seasonella begin Diego?” You tilted your head innocently as you let your hands press gently against his chest.

“Curious are we?” He chuckled a little, a smirk coiling on his lips as you rolled your hips a little enticingly, the more you gave the more willing he’d be to speak on this, or so you hoped, “Seasonella was originally just an annual meeting held between my fathers men yearly,” His hands rested on your hips as you swayed them against his, letting them roll along the hardening bulge of his cock,, “It slowly began to grow into his men bringing other references, and those references bring theirs until it grew even more, eventually it became more like an open party to the right people to come and do business with us. It’s what made our wealth skyrocket.”

You were having a difficult time relaxing as he leaned in against your neck, lips trailing along your neck as your breath catched a little as you focused everything onto his words. You’d need more than that to go on. You wiggled your hips a little more as you pulled away, letting your lips tug into a cute pout before letting them twist into a playful smile, “And that’s it? That’s how you started taking strippers from across the globe to attend?”

Diego placed his hands on your hips as you gave them a little sway, pretending as if you totally hadn’t felt his obviously lacking hard on, “When the meeting starting becoming bigger and more akin to a party we started hiring on entertainment,” You could see the way Diego was becoming more pliable, more willing to spill whatever you wanted so you could hurry up, “Of course it ended up benefiting us in the end, we invest they give us girls. It works out.”

What…?

Diego, perhaps realizing how his words sounded didn’t give you a chance to question him further, you squeaked as he pushed you down onto the couch, climbing on top of you as you swallowed thickly, “But enough of that doll. I’m more interested in how tight that little cunt is.” You jumped a little at his lips attaching to your neck, the sharp moan leaving you before you could stop it.

Diego’s hands dragged their way down your waist as you squirmed beneath him, controlling your breaths as adrenaline shot through your veins. Just today and tomorrow, that’s all you needed to get through.

“Kookie, why have you been so quiet?” Eva turned to face him with a pouty frown, shifting the blanket to cover her plump perky breasts as she laid her head against her arms, observing the way Jungkook laid on his back, his expression dimmed and the frown harshly twisted on his lips.

The door had just closed and her friend who had joined them in such an incredible night in bed had taken her leave. Jungkook didn’t reply for a moment, unsure of how to before he finally shrugged, sitting up as the blanket fell off his chest revealing the broad chiseled sight that was making her rub her thighs together all over again, “Eva can I be honest with you?”

It was a dumb question, because while he was sure she was going to say yes despite the likelihood that she’d accept his words was….rather slim.

Eva gave him a wide, excited smile, as if she thought for sure he was slowly beginning to open up to her. Sitting up eagerly, she clutched the sheets against her chest as she gave him a timid smile, “Of course you can Jungkook, I’ll never judge you.” Rather than make him smile though Jungkook’s brows only furthered as he sighed, running a hand through his damp hair, “What do you think we are, relationally speaking?” He wanted to cringe at the question, but it was something he had been thinking about. Eva had continuously gloated to her friends about her ‘boyfriend when Jungkook had made himself clear several times before that he was not her boyfriend..

Eva’s cheeks dusted a light pink as she glanced coyly at the blankets, “Well...I thought I made my point Kook. If it weren’t for my studies I’d be in Korea...with you...I like you....a lot...I have since we met last year.”

Jungkook didn’t mean to let the groan escape him but it was too late, Eva had stiffened somewhat as she glanced at him carefully awaiting his response, “Eva….” His words didn’t sound promising he knew it, but Jungkook wanted to make himself very clear, “You do understand that I’m only here because I have to be here? Right? You’re a nice girl but…” Should he bring you into this conversation? No...he’ll need to make it discreet, “I’ve met someone...Someone I really love...”

Jungkook felt somewhat timid meeting her gaze, it was worse than he had hoped for truthfully. Eva was as stiff as a board and her gaze was darkening by the second before she gave a loud scoff that came out as if she was trying to force it into a laugh, her smile sharper than usual as she replied, “Love…? Maybe it’s just me but if you really loved someone, you wouldn’t be working as a stripper and sleeping with people behind her back.”

Jungkook had parted his lips to object but quickly snapped them shut, remembering he had told himself he was leaving you out of this. He couldn’t help but feel guilty though, did he really love you if he was doing this? He could feel it eating him alive inside as she gave him a snide smile, “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I get it Jungkook I do, we’ve been apart a year, but just give it a shot!”

Eva ignored the way his body tensed as she climbed into his lap, cupping his face as her smile softened a little, “I think we could really work Jungkook...besides...you know I can offer you anything she could and even more,” Jungkook’s jaw clenched against her grip and he refused to meet her eyes, “And you know it, I’ll take care of you, provide for you, my family will keep you safe from KOI and I know how much of a strangle hold they’ve had on you before.”

Letting her forehead rest against his she leaned in, his lips were so soft and addictive. Eva only felt them for a few seconds before she was pushed away, her lips even parted in somewhat offense at the aggressive and cold glare he gave her, “I’ll sleep with you all you want, I’ll play boyfriend while I’m here, I’ll let you have your fun with your friends,” She whined a little as he shoved her against the bed climbing on top of her, “But don’t you ever fucking kiss me like you’re actually apart of my life. You know nothing about me or who I am and it’s going to be kept this way.”

Jungkook roughly rolled her onto her stomach as he growled, “Now I’m gonna spank this ass until it’s bruised and you’re gonna count you disobedient bitch.” He didn’t even wait for her to speak, she was already moaning and whining as his hand slammed against the delicate pale skin of her ass. Jungkook didn’t care how much she knew about him or how much she could dangle his past over his head, there would always be few things off limits and this was one of them.

…

It was morning, you knew it was. Light streamed through the windows and it looked like a beautiful day outside, blue sky with billowing white clouds. If you were back home in Korea you would’ve begged Jungkook to take you to the market where you’d go to look for plants and succulents to add to your collection.

But you weren’t home. No. You were in Diego Friar’s bed with thighs that ached and like they were on fire with your stomach churning for the past thirty minutes. He had left a while ago saying he had work to take care of and that he’d meet you in the cafe for breakfast. That was okay, you didn’t want him to stay anyways. You felt gross, every inch of your body felt disgusting and you knew a shower wouldn’t be enough to make you feel better.

Trying to ignore the dull throb of your stomach you sat up feeling somewhat numb as you carefully dressed yourself. Glancing at Diego’s desk you deflated even more, all the paper that had been thrown across was gathered and most likely taken by him this morning. Standing up you winced as you forced yourself to walk. You weren’t going to break down...you weren’t going to break down crying…

No matter how much you repeated it in your head you still felt tears glossing in your eyes as you punched the bottom floor button, the elevator was making your stomach feel even worse as you groaned silently, the elevator was too small and there were too many people here.

As soon as the doors slid open you pushed your way out, the churn of your stomach becoming too much and you needed to find a bathroom, fast, “Oh hey Y/n-” Jimin’s eyes widened a little as you shoved past him and into the bathroom.

Unable to even lock the stall door as you lurched down onto your knees, the sour taste of alcohol and last night's meal coming up as you coughed rancidly, spitting out bile as tears trickled down your cheeks from the force of your cough as you began to dry heave up any last bits.

Sitting down against the toilet you couldn’t help but let the tears trickle down your face as you let out a sob. God you felt disgusting, would Jungkook even want to be with you today after knowing...After seeing? Your hands trembled as you sobbed into them. Sniffling harshly as you forced yourself up to stand, flushing away the reminder of what had happened before wobbling out to the sink to fix yourself up.

Your eyes still looked bloodshot but it wasn’t notable as long as someone didn’t stare for long, you rinsed your mouth out with the sink water, gurgling a few times as you gagged while spitting it out, the raw burn of your throat a reminder of what had just happened.

Opening the door you jumped a little to see the sight of Jimin leaning against the wall with one foot, arms crossed as his eyes landed on you, a frown quirking onto his lips as he sighed, “...You...look like you’ve seen better days.” He picked his words carefully, “You good?”

You closed your eyes briefly, trying to ignore the churn of your stomach already despite having just thrown up, “As well as I can be, I just...Sorry I didn’t mean to push you, I just uh...threw up.” You gave a weak smile as Jimin examined your figure, “Sorry. It’s just been a long night.”

He nodded understandingly, “Well I’m sure your body is already going through a lot as it is, you should really lay down and rest.” You sighed at his words, glancing away from him as you rubbed your forehead.

“I told Diego i’d be at breakfast in the cafe....What are you doing here?” You pressed your brows together as you tilted your head, why was Jimin here anyways? You had been in too much of a rush to think much of it before.

Jimin snorted, “I was going to breakfast but after you rushed past me I figured I’d stay behind to check on you. Like I said, you look like you’ve seen better days. Who cares about Diego? I’m sure he won’t be hurt if you skip.”

“...Well yeah but…” You trailed off with a frown causing Jimin to peer at you somewhat confused as you sighed, stepping closer to him as you lowered your voice, “...You’re the only one I’m going to tell but...Something is going on here Jimin,” You glanced up at him, your gaze serious and even boarding harsh as you continued, “And I’m going to find out what it is and stop it.”

Jimin’s gaze hardened a little as he frowned, “Y/n…” He shook his head a little in disdain as you scoffed while stepping away from him. Why was it everyone was so fucking scared? This wasn’t right! Whatever it was! “These people are dangerous...Be careful. I need to go get breakfast for myself and Rosé but...just be careful okay? There’s a reason a lot of us just leave it alone.” His gaze was a silent warning as you nodded reservedly before you let Jimin walk past you.

Sighing you pinched the bridge of your nose. Why must everything be so secretive?

Breakfast hour was always Jungkook’s favorite part of Seasonella, free food and he could officially go and sleep off the ache of his body for the rest of the day before rinse repeat in this scenario. It was normal to eat with said client and no matter how annoying it was Jungkook would tolerate it when you were just in eyesight.

No matter how much it pissed him off. You wouldn’t meet his gaze and he knew exactly why, your neck was shamelessly covered in hickies and there was a slight limp in your walk when you showed up, oddly by yourself and it for a moment made every sense in his body tell him to go sit with you and coddle you.

It was like his conversation with Eva the night before hadn’t even existed, either she was truly dense or she was cooking something up.

Jungkook didn’t like the way she smiled and laughed with all of her friends, some passing jokes to each other in hopes of maybe buttering him up about how good he was in bed to get one more round in before he’d call it quits. But no amount of jokes or compliments were getting him to budge. He had managed a few smiles and jokes as well but nothing more than playful banter.

He kept his gaze towards you minimally, but he felt somewhat useless when his gaze met yours, had you been looking at him too?

Jungkook could feel his outer charming mask begin to crumble at the way your lips quivered and your eyes shooting back down to your untouched food. The sudden need to touch you, to hold you filling his veins. His fingers began to thrum against the table in impatience before he checked his phone, he couldn’t wait, it was nearly killing him.

Jungkook swallowed thickly at how sharp and dry your words over text were, were you actually okay. You hadn’t looked at him once when you got up from the table, your food untouched as you left. He could only sigh and endure the rest of breakfast until he was finally free of Eva’s claws the rest of the day.

Jungkook’s body was objecting to every sluggish step he took back to his room, it had been awhile since he actually pulled an all nighter, well into the morning hours without any sleep whatsoever. Rubbing his eyes he yawned as he opened the door, quietly closing it as he felt his once tense muscles relaxed at the familiar sight.

You were curled up against the bed, the large hoody- his as a matter of fact, drowning your body and the hood pulled over your head while you buried in the large pillows. Jungkook felt his lips curve a little into a soft smile as he changed out of his sticky previously sweat stained clothes, feeling relieved to just be comfortable once more as he drew the large thick currents over the window to darken the room before he sat down on the bed. His hand gently stroking your waist.

What he hadn’t expected was the violent jolt from you before jerking away making him frown. Jungkook had anticipated you wanting his touch after such an...intense night but, maybe he was wrong... His jaw clenched slightly at the way your body tensed and didn’t seem to relax at the realization he was in bed with you. He didn’t even want to think about what you went through last night.

Not wanting to push your comfort zone Jungkook sighed as he laid down on his side of the bed, your back was turned to him and you hadn’t even greeted him yet. Oh well, words didn’t need to be spoken. Jungkook could only let his gaze longingly stare against your figure that was curled away from him. God he just wanted to hold you, now he couldn’t even do that.

....

Your mind felt fuzzy, that kind of drowsiness you wake up with when you decide to take a nap at an odd hour and when you wake up you don’t know what time it is and if it’s day or night. You groaned as you rolled over, your muscles gripping at the sight of an empty bed. Where did Jungkook go?

You were aware you hadn’t been...the kindest...but maybe you were just still reeling from last night. That didn’t mean you didn’t want to see him though...You felt yourself relax at the sight of Jungkook appearing from the bathroom, his lips quirking up a little at the sight of your half awake figure.

“I have a bath running, we need to get you cleaned up.” Jungkook sat down on the side of the bed as he let his hand stroke through your hair, your body flinched a little at the contact, your poor scalp was still sore from how much Diego had pulled on your hair. Jungkook frowned before tenderly letting his fingers run along your scalp.

“Thanks.” You replied dryly, a tiny bit of humor detected in your tone while letting your lips tug into a tiny smile, it was hard to keep a straight face when you were around Jungkook, even like this. It was something Jungkook seemed to return so easily, his fingers sliding down to your cheek to gently stroke along it.

“That’s not what I meant,” He clacked his tongue, trying to give you a scolding look but failing as his lips twisted into a smile, “C’mere,” Jungkook internally sighed, his heart broke for you, he could see how much you were struggling to not instinctively push him away as your body tensed and flinched as he picked you up. You really were trying your best to relax in his grip as he carried you to the bathroom, “It’s not about you being dirty, it’s about me not wanting you to get an infection.”

Jungkook already had a fresh set of clothes folded neatly on the closed toilet seat as he set you on the counter, tugging off the sweatshirt that covered your body as he sighed. His lips unable to stay smiling as they twisted into a sad frown at the hickies your body sported and bruises on your hips in the shape of fingers.

“I get it. It was a lot,” He mumbled as he pulled out a hairbrush from his bag that laid on the ground, gently untangling your hair as he refused to meet your gaze, “But I’d never hurt you baby. You know that right? I don’t want you to ever think I’d make you do something you don’t want too. I don’t want to know what happened last night, but I’ll never treat you the way he did.”

Your shoulders kept tensing and relaxing over and over again as Jungkook finished brushing your hair, finally glancing down at you as he sighed, tears were beginning to streak down your face as you closed your eyes, “I feel so fucking gross.” You finally relented, your hands shaking as you pressed them into your eyes, “I...I...Jungkook...I feel so disgusting.”

And you did, you felt ruined. Like you didn’t deserve to even be in the same room as Jungkook at the moment. Why would he even want you now? After...after last night...Jungkook hushed you gently as he wrapped his arms around you tenderly pressing a kiss against your head, his heart lurching and it hurt with every beat at the tears you cried, “Shhh, it’ll be okay baby. Just tonight and we’re done. Shhh, don’t cry baby.”

For the first time you had craved his warmth all over again, letting his arms tighten around you as he cradled you close, peppering kisses against your hair before eventually coaxing you into the nice warm tub.

It felt normal, as if you weren’t at Seasonella or like Diego and Eva never happened. It was just you and Jungkook, his arms still loosely wrapped around you, his fingers dancing along your skin beneath the water soothingly and his lips occasionally pecking softly against the hickies. As if to make them feel better, as if to make them his even if they weren’t.

After a hefty amount of coaxing Jungkook had finally gotten you to give in, your fists clenched as you sucked in a sharp breath, “What happens in this bathtub, stays in this bathtub by the way.” You heard him chuckle as you whined, pressing your forehead against the cold tile of the wall, “Do I need stitches? It feels like I do.”

Jungkook sighed as if him staring at your asshole with cheeks spread open was something he did everyday, “No you don’t need stitches. There’s some blood, yeah but that’s just because he didn’t properly prep you. Poor baby.” He let go of your cheeks before letting his hand gently rub against the bruised surface, “I’ll clean it up, outside of it hurting there’s nothing actually wrong. Luckily we can get you some medicine for that.”

You winced as he spread them back open. You never in your life, thought you’d be in a bathtub with your asscheeks spread just so Jungkook could clean you up. You thought you had gotten past any sort of embarrassment you’d ever feel around Jungkook yet it seemed like he lived to prove you wrong. You sucked in another breath as you felt the soft warm bath cloth rub against the aching puckered ring.

“There, all better.” Jungkook set the bathcloth down before tenderly grabbing your waist, guiding you to sit back down in the nice soothingly hot water as he pressed another kiss against your neck, “Can’t believe he’d actually do that to you.” He gritted his teeth as he muttered under his breath.

You shifted a little, nibbling against your lip, you knew that wasn’t his invitation to getting you to talk about it but… “It was dark….I doubt he realized it was blood…” You mumbled, you could feel his skin tense beneath you as he huffed.

“If there was blood involved you can’t tell me you weren’t crying.” Jungkook tried to keep his voice a steady note but he could feel his anger beginning to rise, just the idea made him sick to his stomach.

You didn’t have the heart to mention he was right, you had cried while mumbling your safeword a fair amount of times when anal got involved, maybe if you had just said something he’d....But did you even want his comfort though? No, you gritted your teeth and dealt with it because you wanted that disgusting human being away from you as soon as he blew his load.

Jungkook pulled you out of the water, wrapping a warm fluffy towel around you as he carefully dried you off, saying no more on the subject as it was clear neither of you really wanted to talk about it. No, you just wanted to enjoy what time you could with him.

Pulling on the fresh pair of panties and Jungkook helped you tug on the comfy gym shorts before pulling the nice warm sweatshirt over your head, it smelt like him, your favorite smell.

Sitting down in bed you patiently waited for Jungkook as he typed in the password on your laptop, intending to put something on for you both to watch as he set in on the bed, a knock on the door making you both alert.

You glanced at Jungkook in confusion as he gave you a weak smile, “I know you said you weren’t hungry but baby...you need to eat something.” You frowned a little as you tugged on a strand of hair. Opening the door he pulled out his wallet, paying for the food before closing the door behind him. Taking a seat on the bed as he opened up the takeout boxes, you wouldn’t deny the glee that entered your body at the sight of Chow Mein and Shrimp.

One bite into your food though immediately made your stomach lurch, your hand squeezing against the wooden chopsticks as you forced yourself to swallow. Jungkook was right, you needed to eat something. It didn’t matter how tasty it was though, it made you sick to your stomach the more you ate.

One more bite and you had to put down your chopsticks, Jungkook frowned as he noticed your hand covering your mouth, “Hey, you okay baby?” He couldn’t even finish his words before you were already scrambling off the bed at your stomach lurching and your throat constricting. You barely made it to the toilet before you were already throwing up what little you had eaten, dry heaving despite nothing coming up.

You couldn’t stand when people tried to comfort you when you were throwing up and Jungkook got a good taste of that when he attempted the first time he witnessed you hungover. Your vision was blurred with tears as you spat up the vile taste that lingered in your mouth, after a few moments Jungkook entered the bathroom as you wiped your mouth with toilet paper, tossing it carelessly in before weakly pulling the handle.

Your body trembled as he sighed, pressing a kiss on top of your head, “You good?” He sat down as he wrapped his arms loosely around you.

“Y-yeah, I just haven’t been able to keep anything down.” Your body trembled once more as you curled against him, letting him pick you up before delicately carrying you back to bed.

Leaned against him you weakly curled up as you sighed, your head was beginning to throb once more and your stomach ached with a lingering aftertaste of vomit, god you felt so weak and Chow Mein was not as good as you remembered it tasting. Closing your eyes once more you relaxed on top of Jungkook’s laid out figure, his hand tenderly stroking your back as you nudged into his neck. You’d be happy when all of this was over.

Note: I got way too impatient and just decided to post this chapter a few hours early, not that y’all are complaining 😂 Let me know what you guys think about everything going on! It’s a lot to take in! 🖤

(Taglist: Due to a bug on my blog nobody will receive notifications from my taglist so I’ve decided to skip it this update, should things return to normal on my blog the taglist will resume!)

#bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #jungkook x y/n #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook au #bts au

638 notes · View notes