#but oh well. if the story and jokes can compensate that might be good enough. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

folkloreguk · 3 years ago

Text

French Class [6]

A/N: You guys might want to whack out your love song playlist for this one…I cried writing this BYE I'm posting this from my grave!!

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), fwb, f2l?, college!au, fuckboy!bias, nerd!reader, ANGST, smut

words: ~ 3.8 k

✽series masterlist✽

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!): @lovely-ateez, @runaway-fics, @mainexiii, @awfullytiredbuthealing, @erikyoong, @etherealuv, @staysuki, @justcuz-ican, @yeostars, @hyuckthangs, @teenloves, @mexious18-blog, @sunghoonied, @mailobjaeyoon

couldn’t tag: @chorizoek

You: can I come over? I kind of need u

H/N: you need me huh…you’re lucky I’m home alone

It always starts differently. Some other question, or a subtle message of telling him you’re bored, or a flat-out confession of being horny. The ending is always the same. You, naked in his bed. You just had to get there, and things were easy when you were already on his dorm’s doorstep.

The moment he had opened the door, you had fistfuls of his hair between your fingers and attacked his mouth in a feverish kiss. He made a noise between a laugh and surprise but reacted quickly. His lips parted right away, letting you in, and you tasted mint from the chewing gum he liked so much.

“Let me- at least- close the door,” he mumbled. “Jeez, what’s gotten into you today?”

You stepped aside and mirrored his grin. He was acting surprised, but the way he instantly locked your lips after he had shut the door told you he was enjoying this as much as you were. You ran your hands down his torso and along the side of his thighs. His happy hum only poured oil into the fire, and you saw no reason as to why you should have kept your clothes on any longer. In minutes, in the middle of heated kisses and clumsy chuckles, your clothes were discarded, and you were left in your underwear. You stumbled into his bedroom in a tangle of arms and legs and heads barely pulling apart.

“Will you tell me about the date you had today or are we skipping over that part?” he asked, as he pushed you down by the shoulders onto his bed. You groaned a little, not even knowing where to start.

“Didn’t go well, huh?” he asked. Only a few nights ago you had consoled him after his failed date, now the roles were reversed.

“That’s one way to put it,” you said. He was climbing on top of you now, and the weight of him between your thighs still did the same things to you it had done the first time. There was one of his random playlists playing quietly from the speakers, but you were both too occupied to even consider switching the music off. You weren’t in the mood for a chat, not when he was biting and sucking bruises into your chest, pushing aside your bra just enough. But you knew he wasn’t going to let it go this easily.

“Tell me about it or I won’t take one more piece of clothing off your body,” he threatened. You shot him an are-you-serious-look while he only blinked at you innocently, like he was awaiting your response.

“Fine,” you groaned. “But hurry, now.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, before unclasping your bra and throwing it to the other side of the room. “Go ahead, I expect a story.”

You had rolled your eyes at him, but when he sucked on your nipple all of a sudden, and his tongue flicked over the sensitive bud ever so perfectly, your eyes moved to the back of your head involuntarily. And, before he could complain, you started to retell today’s events.

“Alright. First of all, he acted all gentleman-y. Pulling back my chair at the restaurant, letting me have a look at the menu first, letting me order first, asking me if I was okay with our seats because they were in the sunshine, or whether he should have requested we get a different in the shade table, blah, blah, blah.”

With the lewd noises he was making, kissing your chest and fumbling with your breasts, you almost wondered whether he was paying attention to you at all.

“I’m waiting for the plot twist,” he chuckled. “If he had been this great, you wouldn’t be in my bed right now, would you?” He was now on his way to your lower regions. Your breaths came out shaky when he gripped your hips with familiar fingertips and placed a few kisses there, right above the material of your underwear. Nonetheless, you had to continue your story.

“Oh, it’s coming,” you said. “Because I suspect, the only reason he was acting that way was to compensate. For the fact that he was an hour late.”

He stifled a laugh, and you slapped his head playfully. “It’s not funny! I stood outside that restaurant on a busy street like an idiot for an hour. During exam season!”

“I wonder, if studying is so special to you- ,” he said. He tugged on your underwear, and you barely cared about his words when you were already imagining his mouth on your pussy. “Why aren’t you at home right now, doing just that?”

“Too frustrated,” you groaned, spreading your legs, practically inviting him in. “You don’t get it. That was only the beginning of the date. It gets worse.”

“Oh, damn,” he laughed, and you were going to slap him again. Harder, this time. But his tongue kitten-licked over your clit and you didn’t dare interrupt him further.

“First of all, he turned out to be boring. An economics major. And look, I’m not generalizing, I’ve met some cool economics majors. But when I said I never really understood the whole thing with inflation and deflation, I wasn’t asking for him to explain it to me. I know what it means, I just meant to say money is the root of all evil,” you said, little moans slipping inbetween your sentences. He laughed whilst sipping on your clit. You couldn’t be mad at his laughing anymore. In fact, at the sound of his chuckles, your own lips curled into a smile, too. God, he was so good with his tongue.

“But turns out he loved money. Like it was the sole reason he was doing anything. When he showed me his gold watch I almost yawned,” you continued.

“Dating a rich guy can have its upsides too, though,” he said, but you knew he was joking. He was running the tips of his fingers over your core, and you whimpered at how badly you wanted him to put them inside of you. You loved watching him, loved feeling his hair tickle the side of your thighs and having his free hand laying on top of your hipbone. The familiarity of it all, his little habits, made your heart heavy, so full of emotion, all of a sudden. But you had to snap out of it.

“Not this guy. He kept saying these lowkey sexist things I won’t repeat now. It’ll only make me mad again. He was one of those who thought money would buy him a girlfriend. And I was really trying to see the good in him…only there was none,” you said.

“Alright, I’m starting to understand why you needed some cheering up,” he said. “Good thing you’re at the right place. I know just the thing.”

At this, he slid his digits into you. You hummed and dropped your head into the plush pillow. Slowly, you exhaled, happy you finally got to relax after being so upset. But of course, he had to interrupt. Again.

“Did I say you could stop? Was that the end of the story?” he said. How did he expect you to form a coherent sentence? He fingered you gently, but the slowness of it all only drove you crazier. You felt every tiny sensation, every new bit of you he touched.

“No,” you sulked. “Fuck, it feels so good.”

“Go on, then,” he encouraged you, grinning because he was proud of your reaction he had caused.

“Fuck- okay. He was super shitty to the waiter. I’m talking about criticizing everything. This man had the audacity to complain about the food. I’m not a food critic, but I swear the food was amazing, there was nothing to fault at all,” you said, and then whined when he switched from licking your clit to sucking it between his teeth. You knew he was doing this on purpose. To make speaking harder for you.

“Oh my god, H/N. Wait, let me finish this. Not only was he horrible to the waiter in person, but he also made fun of the waiter’s appearance behind his back. And all along he expected me to find him funny. I used to think he had a sense of humor but not after today. Blech.”

“At least you got a free dinner?” he said, and without awaiting your answer, went back to work. Your head was spinning in pleasure, and you could only laugh sarcastically at his suggestion.

“Yeah. And after that train wreck of a date, he really thought he’d get to stick his tongue down my throat,” you said.

“Did he at least ask permission?” asked the boy between your legs.

“Mhm…but I told him I don’t do that on the first date,” you said. “Safe to say there won’t be another date, though.”

He looked up now, laughing more than before. You grinned, mainly because the sight of him was so cute. He folded his hands on your belly and put his face down onto your skin to giggle. In no way could you be upset or urge him to keep giving you head. In fact, you had forgotten about all of that for a while, as he seemed to enjoy your misfortune a little too wildly. You should have been hungry, eager to have the half-naked boy inside of you. Yet, you laughed at the way his breaths tickled your stomach and when he finally made eye contact, it was a wholly different sort of hunger which overcame you. Instead of the heat he usually made you feel, it was a comfortable warmth that was in your chest. It reminded you of a bonfire or of drinking your favorite hot drink on a cool autumn day.

“I want to watch you come,” he said, casually. “Were you close?”

You were so lost in his trustworthy, dreamy eyes, you almost forgot to reply. Quickly, you nodded and hummed.

“I would have already come, had you not pestered me to tell you all the details of my date,” you said. The way his cheeks beamed when he smiled made you feel as if your insides were turning into mush.

“I’m sorry. I’m your friend, aren’t I allowed to ask how your day went?” he asked.

“Of course you are,” you said. The word ‘friend’ echoed off every wall in your head until you wished you could have deleted it from the dictionary.

“I’ll make sure it feels extra good now,” he said, kissing your stomach. You shivered as you watched his gentle lips move lower, to your hips and the insides of your thighs. The touch felt like butterfly wings on your skin, and the tardiness of it made you impatient. When his tongue came in contact with your clit again, you sucked in a breath of surprise.

He tried to start slowly, but then you gripped his hair tightly, and carefully pushed him further. It was something you did often, a way to tell him you wanted more without having to use words. After all this time, he understood perfectly. Your clit was between his lips and his tongue flicked over the sensitive bundle of nerves with just the right amount of pleasure. It felt incredible, creating a funny sensation in the pit of your stomach. His fingers grazed over your slit until you were whimpering and shifting your hips, trying to make him hurry.

One of his digits slid into you easily, curling against your sweet spot, and it hit you only now how much you had missed him between your legs since he had stopped a few minutes ago. It made you feel as though you were suddenly overwhelmed with all of him, but you were willing to let the heat crash over you if it meant you could be close to him.

“Am I making it up to you now?” he asked as he pulled away merely for a breath. “I’ll turn your day into a good one after all.”

In a different tone his words would have sounded like the exact thing one would have expected to hear from a fuckboy in the bedroom. He could have boasted and bragged endlessly about how great he was with his tongue and fingers – he would have been right – but he didn’t mean it like that. You could tell from the uprightness and the authenticity in his voice that he really was doing his best because he wanted to make you feel better and turn your day around. Because you were special to him. Or so you desperately hoped.

Your legs wrapped around his shoulders as if you were trapping him between your thighs. But he was right there, and he would gladly stay for so much longer, and to say it puzzled you was an understatement. The boy who belonged to everybody, who was known by all of the campus, was treating you like you were royalty, and not the other way around. You moaned, his name inevitably falling from your lips. He added another finger and the slightest stretch made you lose your mind for a split second.

“That guy could have never made you feel this good, could he?” he suddenly asked. Your initial response was a helpless whine. You had been so close, and his talking had interrupted the otherworldly bliss for a moment.

“No, never,” you then whimpered shortly. ‘No’ was such a tiny word. It could barely encapsule what you truly meant to say. Which was that it would have never even gotten that far. That other guys couldn’t even have you at all. They didn’t get their turn to try and beat him. Not as of lately, at least. That you didn’t so much as dare to think about sleeping with other guys. That even before you had gone on the date, you had known it wouldn’t lead to anything. No guy could let you develop an interest on him in the same way the boy between your legs had done it. No other would be able to kidnap your brain like that. H/N was always there. Even when it was only you and your sex toys, you would automatically pretend it was him getting you off. You were so far gone that it was embarrassing how long it had taken you to admit it to yourself. But it was a colossal thing to confess to him, and you would never do that. Rejection would hurt a billion times more than whatever it was you two had now.

Your heart was racing as you closed your eyes. You had been so lost in thought, it was wondrous you hadn’t fallen yet. But you were right on the edge, making your breaths come out like puffs and a string of moans and swears sound from your lips. He too had stopped talking, concentrating on the task at hand, and judging by the way your back arched he was doing one hell of a good job.

“Oh my god- “ you whimpered. “I’m so close, H/N.”

This time he didn’t reply, which was for the best. Only a few seconds passed until you started to quiver and whine beneath him. You were going to outer space behind your eyelids as your high rushed through you. Your fingers curled and tightened in his locks while your legs clenched around his head. He was quick to pull your thighs apart again, still not being finished. For long seconds you swam in pleasure, with nothing on your mind but bursting stars. He was heaven, knowing precisely how far he could take it until you were too sensitive to take any more.

When you were at that point, he finally pulled away and looked up at your crumpled form. There was a lazy smile playing in the corner of your lips and your vision was hazy after having had your eyes closed for a while. He climbed up your body until his chest was against yours so he could really look at you.

“I get all of this without ever having been on a single date with you? I’m so lucky,” he said. You only smiled at him, at a loss for words. What were you to say? The two of you were clearly past the awkward dating stage already.

“I’m lucky you let me come over all the time,” you said. “I would have expected the campus fuckboy to be busier. To not have an empty spot in his bed every night.”

“Ah, shut up,” he said. “I’d rather have you here than a girl I don’t know at all. Look, I’m really tired so I don’t know how this will go…but can I?” He was on his knees, a tent visible in his boxers. With a questioning look, he was tugging them down his legs now.

“Of course,” you said. As you watched him roll on a condom, your ears perked up. Did that song have to come on shuffle just now? The coziest, most romantic love song you adored so much? You knew if you looked him in the eyes you’d be done for. But there wasn’t anywhere else to look when he settled between your legs and held up his weight with his forearms. His eyes were deep enough for you to get lost within a second. Distracting yourself was impossible. The one last thing you could do was to reach between the two of you and guide his length into you.

The song’s chorus came on, you looked at him once again, and suddenly you were all his. You didn’t need to tell him so. He thrust gently, almost carefully, like he had never done it with you. Your heart hammered against your ribcage so vivaciously, you wondered whether it had turned autonomous and was now trying to jump out of your body, onto his skin and through it, so it could nestle next to his own heart.

Neither of you spoke. Yet, there had never been so much chemistry, such a heavy amount of uncommunicated emotions between the two of you. You were ready to hang on his every word, should he decide to speak up. In your head rampaged a billion sentiments you needed him to know, but there was no option to express them adequately. Perhaps there were simply no words in the English language to declare your feelings for him.

Small whimpers and moans left your lips only for him to hear. Sometimes he moved a little quicker, gifting you with the most perfect sounds he could make. And to know you were the cause for it sent you into overdrive. His mouth was right above yours. If you lifted your head slightly, you could have kissed his sweet, sweet lips. But you were so afraid. What would he think? You had never kissed him during sex. Not softly, like you wanted it so terribly.

Even worse, you craved so much more than that. You wanted to pull him in, envelope his mouth in your own, crawl over the edge of his lips and reside in his chest for safety. Because that’s what he was. Comfort. Reassurance. Home. How foolish you had been, pretending this little fling would lead to nothing more. You really had told yourself this would work. No feelings. Just fun. You couldn’t deny having fun with him. He was the best company you had ever known, and he had become your most precious friend quickly. It was as if you had only been waiting for the silly, flirty boy to sit across from you in the library and make weak advances towards you.

The love song tuned out slowly, replaced by something more sensual and sinful. In accordance with the new background noise, he gripped your hips a little meaner and went faster. You barely noticed how his breathing had sped up as he was getting closer to his orgasm. A trance had overcome you, transfixing you on his godlike features and how much it hurt to know you couldn’t call him yours. In your head you were made for each other. They always said to date your best friend, didn’t they? You could try to turn back time, go back to your first meeting place, at the party. See if things would turn out different. But you knew they wouldn’t. As much as your fear tried to suppress it – you would take the same path again, stumbling head-first into his arms and letting him into your life like a crashing wave of laughter and heart-crushing conversations.

Now you reflected in despair, how he had taken your heart in a storm, without having to try too hard. And worst of all, you were okay with it. Your heart was secure with him, you thought. The feelings yearned to be spoken out loud, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“You feel so good,” he said. “Always, so fucking good.”

He snapped his hips against yours, burying his cock deep inside of you and all you could muster was a hum of agreement. This is what you got for keeping him at arms-length from the beginning. Wasn’t it you who had challenged him to be friends and only that? Perhaps you would be okay, so long as no one else called him theirs either. You could go on like this, letting him use you for sexual relief and making him laugh when he needed it. Gladly, you would take the pain of not being allowed to love him with your whole being if it meant you could see him whenever you wanted. Exposing those silly emotions would wreck your friendship and you wouldn’t let it happen.

He grunted and only then, when he lowered his head into the crook of your neck and moaned your name, you realized he was reaching his high. Softly, you cradled his head in your hands, as if it was the last time you could hold him like this. When he put his forehead against yours, he had his eyes closed and his chest was moving steadier than before.

“You’re the best,” he whispered. “Stay the night?”

Should you have gone home, and missed him all night? Would you have regretted saying no while you curled up in bed with no Cheshire-cat-grin-boy to hold? Or were you to remain in his bed, and pray you would survive the torture of not speaking your mind? His skin radiated the most wonderful warmth and you wanted to trace his lips with your eyes until you fell asleep. That’s how quickly it was decided.

“Okay,” you answered.

460 notes · View notes

lemonjoonah · 5 years ago

Text

Level of Restraint (M)

Pairings: Jimin x Reader, Namjoon x Reader, Taehyung x Reader Word Count: 13K Rating: M Genre: Thriller, smut, office AU, BDSM AU Warnings(contains spoilers): This story contains very dark themes and may not be suited to all readers, protected sex (vag+anal), threesome, double penetration, bondage (including partial suspension), dom/sub roles (reader is a sub), praise kink, mild degration, sensory deprivation, spanking, fingering, cum feeding, mild breathplay, sex toys, exhibitionism, voyeurism, discussion of safe word, Namjoon is a professional dom/sex worker, referenced discrimination of sex workers and those who participate in BDSM, public outing of sexual practices, inappropriate workplace relationships, referenced death of minor character, yandere character, misidentified sexual partner, manipulation, bribery, blackmail, implied stalking, violence.

Summary: As a co-founder of a consulting firm you can’t afford to be caught in a scandal. So flirting with your secretary, Jimin, would be out of the question. Giving your client’s son, Taehyung, a reference for a sexual partner would be reprehensible. And having regular paid BDSM sessions with your dominant, Namjoon? That would be a career ending disgrace. It’s too bad the only restraints in life you approve of are the cuffs that bind you to the bed, because there are those hiding in the dark waiting to take advantage.

A/N: A huge thank you to everyone who supported me while writing this story. It was hard not to question the level of darkness this tale descends to. In the end your assurances and aid are the only reason this fic made it to fruition. Upon reading you might notice several thematic references to the ‘Fall of the House of Usher,’ by Edgar Allan Poe and the Greek myth of Tantalus. They are two of my favourite tales, and together they greatly represent the darkened desires depicted in this oneshot.

...

8:55 am KNJ: Good girl.

Your heart races upon receiving the response you’ve been waiting for all morning. The sender had requested proof that you were wearing his last minute gift, and you were happy to oblige with the lewd photo. Finally seeing his simple praise for your efforts makes you grin from ear to ear, as you enter the front door to your workplace’s building. The message will be enough to get you through the day, high on the thought of his praise while his present is wrapped tightly around your ribs. Though the garment may be confining, you’ll endure anything to receive those two simple words.

Reluctantly glancing up from your phone you look ahead to see the elevator closing.

“Hold the door!” You call out, making a run for it. Mercifully the gap between the doors widens allowing you to climb in before it begins the long haul up. Glancing over to your savoir, you find your secretary standing at the panel. “Thanks Jimin.”

“No problem,” he responds with a warm smile. “What floor do you need?” Joking as he pushes the button labelled 14.

You playfully shove his arm while trying to catch your breath. Had he left you down on the first floor there's no telling how long it would be before the elevator returned. The building in which you work has been down to one lift for a couple days, with no promise of when the other will be fixed. It’s not a surprise really, ever since you moved into this complex three years ago you’ve been plagued with breakdowns and shotty utilities. Considering how opulent the tower is, with it’s gilded elevators and halls adorned in finery you expected better, but people often overlook flaws when they have something pleasant to stare at. Allowing the management to slack on some of the failings of the structure.

“Do you think you could send maintenance another message?” You ask your hand clutching your waist to comfort the stitch in your side, no doubt a result of the corset concealed beneath your clothes.

“Consider it done.” Jimin replies, pulling out his phone. “Are you okay Miss?” He asks, your heavy breathing failing to go unnoticed judging from the concern in his voice.

“Fine.” You quickly change the subject, not wanting to linger on your current state. “What’s on my schedule for today?”

“You have a consultation with Mr. Kim of HOC Industries in an hour-”

“Really?” You cut in, confused about the sudden change. “But I just saw him a few weeks ago. Why is he coming in?”

“He didn’t say, I just got a message last night from him stating he required an appointment immediately.”

“That’s not a good sign...” You groan, wondering what information had dropped to spur a need for such an urgent response.

“Afterwards you have an early lunch with journalist Min. Followed by a one o’clock appointment with Jeon Jungkook to go over the new web layout. And the rest of office hours are slated as admin.”

You cringe over the prospect of bookkeeping. Your accountant’s involvement in a recent accident, placed him on an extended leave of absence. Since you are the only other member of your small staff qualified to balance the books, this leaves you burdened with his duties. “Remind me later to make a posting for a temp position.”

“Noted,” Jimin remarks as he continues to scroll through his phone. “Oh and don’t forget, you also have your monthly massage appointment with Kim Namjoon tonight.”

You smile at the thought, you would never forget a booking with him, especially since he’s the reason for your current state of breathlessness. You’ve been counting down the days until you get to see him, with only a few hours left you can barely contain yourself. To everyone who asks he’s a masseur, but the services he provides are far more aggressively intimate than a standard massage. You force a small cough to cover the involuntary moan starting to escape.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, just tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.” It’s not a complete lie, with the stress from work there have been a lot of restless nights recently, your appointment tonight should help to relieve a bit of that tension. There’s a loud groan as the elevator comes to a stop at your floor. You look up to the top of the lift and over to Jimin with worry, both of you stepping off with haste once the doors open.

Your entire office space consists of only a few rooms. You and Hoseok had started this company only a few years ago, focusing on corporate consultations regarding public image and approval. All things considered you’re doing rather well. With your negotiation tactics, Hoseok's philanthropy efforts, and Yoongi on retainer as your media source, you’ve been able to take on several giant corporations.

As you walk down the hall you find the temperature starting to rise, and upon stepping into your’s and Jimin’s shared office, you’re hit with a wave of heat. You whisper your curses as you check the thermostat which has been jacked to its highest setting and refuses to shift back down.

Giving up on the system you turn to the windows, but even those are a struggle after being neglected for so long. You call out to Jimin for assistance, waiting no more than a second before he is by your side. But even with his help you only manage to open them to the grand extent of a sliver before you’re forced to give in. At least with your office door open there’s now a small draft pervading the space.

“I guess I’ll send maintenance another message,” Jimin chuckles.

“You don’t think he’s trying to push us out do you?” You inquire about the building owner, and one of your own clients. You don’t usually make such bold claims, but with Jimin’s ties to the dubious man, it’s hard not to ask.

“I wouldn’t put it past him. Though I think this is more likely due to his lack of regard for the workmanship going into his properties.”

You nod overlooking the now stuffy room which holds both your desks. It serves its purpose with a sufficient amount of daylight from the large windows, and a partial wall giving you each a bit of privacy. You’d rather not have to leave this building and the status that comes with it, but there seems to be no end with these faulty appliances. “So much for being the height of sophistication.”

While you settle into your workspace you’re already dying from the heat, a sweater and camisole overtop your corset was not the best choice for today, but you didn’t want to risk anyone noticing the garment beneath. As you shuffling through your newsite tabs Jimin readies the coffee maker, returning to you with the first dose of your daily caffeine needs.

“You’re a saint.”

Jimin smiles brightly at your compliment, living for the praise as always. “Do you want some ice on the side?” He laughs as you tug on your sweater to stop it from sticking to your skin.

“Only if I can rub it all over.” You sigh jokingly as you take a sip of the hot beverage.

“I’d be happy to assist.” His smirk and piercing gaze look to be downright serious, his flirtation hitting a new high today.

“Sorry Jimin, I already have a massage appointment later. I think Namjoon would be very upset if you took his job from him.”

“That’s too bad.” He mutters, his lip still curled into a smile before stepping away from your desk. “Let me know if you change your mind. I’d be more than willing to compensate him for his loss.” Jimin has never been shy about his attraction to you, a desire which you most certainly reciprocate, but your own company policies keep the both of you tied to flirtatious word play. With Jimin winning more often than not when it comes to provocative sentiments.

He hangs around on your side of the room, straightening the chairs and stray flies, while you continue your search for whatever prompted the need for your haste meeting. At last you find it, on the featured articles of a prominent celeb news site, with the headline reading, ‘The Dark Desires of the Kim Family Heir.’

Much to your chagrin the issue isn’t regarding your client, but his son. As much as you try to stay out of personal family matters, sometimes they are unavoidable, and this looks to be one of those cases.

‘Kim Taehyung has long been considered one of the most eligible bachelors. He has it all, money, power, and a spot on every top ten most attractive list, but those who have been with him more intimately say he craves something more...’

Your mouth falls open in horror as one of Taehyung's former partners exposes their most intimate moments with him. ‘The Gucci suits and custom cologne are just an expensive mask for the darkness beneath. He would ask to be tied, bound to the bed and struck. He wanted pain and pleasure...’ The further you read the more your chest tightens. You’d rather not jump to conclusions, but you wouldn’t be surprised if it’s true. A fact which must make it all the more painful for Taehyung. You can only imagine what he must be going through, to have such private details exposed and exploited. He’s currently living your worst nightmare, a societal judgement over one's deepest desires. For professional reasons it would probably be best to stay out of this private matter, but you can’t in good consciousness let him suffer alone.

“That bad?” Jimin asks.

“Yeah...” You cover your mouth to hide your shuddering breath, blinking away the tears that threaten to spill on Taehyung's behalf.

Jimin shuffles in behind your desk with you. By lowering himself to read off your screen, his face falls next to yours. His hands come to rest on your shoulders as he leans in to eye the article in question. You should shoo him away, but you can’t help but be curious of his response to those who engage in such practices. As his eyes scan the page his grip on you tightens, his breathing erratic just like yours, with a whispered “‘Fuck,” escaping his lips.

“Are we interrupting something?” A voice calls out from your open door.

Your head snaps over in shock to find your next appointment waiting for you, with his son in tow. You jump up pushing Jimin back so you can greet your guests properly. “Mr. Kim! No not at all, please come in. This must be-”

“Taehyung...” The younger man mutters as he walks in, slumping down in one of the chairs in front of your desk. His sunglasses are still in place, the smell of spirits wafts over you along with the spicy scent of what must be his referenced cologne. He’s a sight to behold, a person of his caliber could make a fortune off his looks alone; he wouldn’t even need a drop of his father's fortune. But of course, that would have been before this public outing of his bedroom tendencies. Now he’s more likely to be seen as a pariah rather than an asset.

Directing the elder to the seat next to him, you take your own once again as Jimin retreats to his desk. You don’t even have the chance to exchange pleasantries before Mr. Kim launches into the purpose of their visit. “I assume you saw the article about my son?”

“I did, but-”

“And? What can we do about it? How can we spin it? Our stocks have already taken a hit.”

“Your son just had a serious breach in personal privacy...” You pause hoping that he’ll have some semblance of a realization that he is not the victim here, instead he simply waits for you to continue. Attempt to hold in your dismay, you give him the only answer you can, “Sue for defamation if you’d like, but whether they are printing fact or fiction the damage is done. The press is still focusing on your family due to your early misdealings in your company. I would argue that if you turn the view of operations around then there is a very good chance that the media will start to back off personal affairs.”

“You can’t expect me to twiddle my thumbs and wait. My shareholders are currently questioning his ability to lead, they might seek to replace him.”

“Good.” Taehyung mutters. “If those prudes have a problem with me, I’d rather not have to work with them.”

You bite your lip to conceal a snort of laughter. Mr. Kim fails to notice but his son seems to have caught your slip, taking off his glasses, he pierces you with a strong gaze.

Kim senior starts up again looking for sympathy and a way out, “Do you know how many of his flings I’ve had to pay off in the past-”

“Maybe you should just stick to your own business.” Taehyung eyes his father darkly.

“They made it my business when they started squealing to the press about what kind of man you are.”

You try to rein the situation in, this battle between father and son having no place in your office. “Mr. Kim! I would actually like to speak to your son for a moment. We can see if there’s a possible remedy for this... exposure.” You stand up, calling over the wall for your secretary "Jimin? Would you mind taking Mr. Kim to see Hoseok?” You turn back to your elder client, practically pushing him out the door into your secretaries’s care. “Jung Hoseok has been continuing his work on your company's philanthropic efforts. I’m sure he would love to show you what he has done with your portfolio.”

“Do you need me to come right back Miss?” Jimin asks with a pleading stare, his eyes flicker over to the young man still slumped in his seat.

“No I think we’ll be okay for a bit.” You mutter to him quietly as Mr. Kim proceeds down the hall. “Just keep him away for a few minutes.”

Once they're both gone you sit back down across from Taehyung with a sigh.

“So are your going to talk some sense into me?” He drawls with disdain.

“Fuck no,” you scoff, rummaging through your drawer. “Can I get you anything coffee, water... advil?” You finally pull out the bottle of pain relievers and offer one to him as you take one yourself, your head ready to explode in frustration over his father.

He tilts his head looking somewhat surprised, “So why did you send him away then?”

“I thought you could use a break. I’ve worked with many people like your father, they all want things done their way, and you’ll never be able to tell them otherwise. He’ll never admit to his faults, and the fact that he’s the real reason the media is all over you. So as long as you don’t tattle on me, we both can make it through this meeting with him thinking that he’s won.”

“Deal,” Taehyung agrees while he chuckles at your ploy.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” You offer once again.

“Actually I’ll take some advil.”

“I thought you might.” You poor him glass from the cooler and offer up the pill. When his sleeve pulls back to reach for the cup you can’t help but notice the glaring red evidence of a rope abrasion on his wrist. While he throws back the pain killer, you take another sip of your coffee rolling the bitterness over your tongue before breaching the difficult subject. “It can’t be easy to have the press prying into every aspect of your private life.”

“It’s not so much that they pry, but...” Taehyung hesitates, his brow furrows as his fingers run through his hair tugging on the strands between his fingers. “People know that they can go to them with a story and make money off any relations I have with them. And the press will gladly pay top dollar for what they have to offer.”

“The story is not a complete fabrication then?” You already know it’s not judging from his father's response and the marks on his arm, you just need to hear him say it.

“No, it’s mostly true.” He admits, watching your reaction.

“Then it would seem that your desires might be thought unconventional by many of your past partners?”

Taehyung nods, taking another sip of his water.

“From one unconventional individual to another,” you pause waiting for your own admission to sink in. To your delight Taehyung immediately perks up listening attentively as you continue. “There are more discreet ways to fill those needs.”

“Are you offering?” He asks, raising a brown along with the corner of his lips.

“No, I doubt that I would be very good at meeting your cravings, since we both hunger the same type of... attention.” You smile back at him, rejoicing in your mutual secret. “But I do have a friend who will take very good care of you. I’m going to give you a name and phone number, it’s up to you if you want to contact them, but I can assure you any conversations or actions between you and them will be kept strictly confidential. It’s not cheap,” you explain, but doubt that’ll be a problem for him. “But I assure you it’s safe and private.”

Taehyung can barely get the information from you fast enough once you jot it down. His hands, reaching for the sheet, accidentally knock over your coffee instead, sending the drink in your direction and staining your sweater. “I’m so sorry, here let me help you.” Taehyung jumps up and runs and grabs napkins from the coffee station.

“It’s fine really.” You assure him, making an attempt to stop him as he starts to blot the saturated material.

Unfortunately it’s at this moment that Jimin walks in to see your precarious state. He stands there for a moment in silence before explaining the reason for his return. “Mr. Kim said he needs to leave soon, Miss. He wanted to see if you two were... finished.” There’s glare set in his eyes for Taehyung's forwardness.

“Yeah, be right there, just one second.” You turn back to Taehyung, exchanging the damp napkin in his hand for the paper you had just written on. “Think about it, I hope you’ll give him a call. I don’t give out his information unless I think it will be of help to someone.”

“Kim Namjoon,” Taehyung mutters quietly while reading the slip. “If I were to go see him, would I find you there too?” He looks back up at you, biting his lip after posing his query.

“Likely not, he keeps his sessions very private, but you can always discuss your...” You glance over to Jimin who is still waiting, and well within earshot. “Preferences with him.”

“Then I’ll consider it, thank you.”

After seeing Mr. Kim and his son off, you're left to deal with the stain on your sweater, with only fifteen minutes before you have to leave for your lunch appointment. “Jimin could you call Yoongi and let him know I’m running a little late? I need to stop by my apartment on the way.”

“No need, I’ve got an extra shirt here.” He pulls out one of his own from his desk. “ I know it’s a men’s fit, but I think we can make it work.”

“Why do you keep that here?” You laugh. He only looks at you and the stain with a raised brow, no words needed to prove his point. “Never mind, stupid question, but I can’t take your shirt Jimin.”

“I insist, go put it on.” He forces it into your hands as you double check your watch, your time constraints leaving you with little choice.

Stepping behind the dividing wall, you strip down to your camisole, breathing a sigh of relief that the beverage hadn’t seeped into the fabric of the corset. Quickly throwing his button up over top and tucking it in, you check to ensure your intimate garment is still hidden relatively beneath the shirt before coming back out for his opinion “Does it look okay?”

Jimin nods, but when he reaches out to touch the shirt you recoil, fearing that he will discover what you wear beneath. He chuckles and persists, “I’m just fixing your collar.” He moves in closer standing just a couple inches away. Pinching the two seams of the fabric together, he considers the change. “I think it would look better like this.” You nod, keeping silent as he follows through. Pulling the fabric tight around your throat, your breathing is forced to pause for a moment as he fastens the top button. “Better?” He asks, while his hands linger around your neck.

“Much.” You whisper, as his fingers drift up to hold your chin, with the tip of his thumb dragging along the edge of your bottom lip. You stand there confused as to why your flirtatious game has taken such a physical turn. Although his actions are prohibited and should be censured, you can’t fully condemn them, deciding instead to remove yourself, rather than reprimand him. “I-I should go. I don’t want to be late meeting Yoongi.”

...

It was a productive lunch to say the least, but that was by no means thanks to you. Your focus was distinctly elsewhere. While you toyed with your bottom lip, thinking of how Jimin had touched it just moments before, Yoongi gave you everything you needed to secure several new clients. Even now as you return, disembarking the elevator on to your floor, you still can’t concentrate on the day ahead.

On the walk back to your office Hoseok catches you, quickly pulling you into his own and closing the door behind. “You need to do something about Jimin.”

“Wh-what do you mean?” You ask, nervous that he had seen you two together before you left for your meeting.

“Your client earlier, Mr. Kim, he said that he caught you two acting rather close, making suggestions that you two are involved in a sexual relationship. Usually I would disregard a comment like his but-”

“It’s not true, you know I wouldn’t!” As much as you might want to act on Jimin’s advances you’ve never crossed that line. You know it must have been bad for Hoseok to bring it up, for him to take this serious tone is evidence of his deep concern.

“I know that, but this isn’t the first time someone has thought you two might be a little too intimate. Some of the staff have also considered the notion. And I can see why, the way he looks at you, talks to you...” Hoseok trails off as his eyes linger on your apparel in confusion. “You weren’t wearing that earlier were you?”

“No, I had some coffee spill on me earlier. Jimin was nice enough to loan me his.”

Hoseok tilts his head as he raises his brow as if this validates his concerns.

“He was just being helpful!” You offer, but Hoseok doesn’t look to be swayed, and he’s right, this is a workplace not a morning after situation. “Fine, I see your point. So what do you suggest?”

“Redistribute him, send him my way if you have to, god knows that I could use the extra hand. You could even play it off as a promotion, just get him out of your office.” Your heart drops at the thought, not wanting to give him up. Hoseok seeing this takes a softer tone. “Listen I can see that you like him too. I’m sure it feels good to have his attention, but you need to get this out of your system. You have to put a stop to it. We can’t afford a scandal and you know it.”

With the assurance that you’ll think on the issue, and giving Hoseok your solution by tomorrow, you return to your office. But the problem is far from easy, though you did not lie about your physical relationship to Hoseok, you have been keeping something from him. From all of them. Jimin will never accept a promotion if it takes him away from you. He’s never worked here for the money, he doesn’t need to when his father owns half of the city, this building included.

...

-3 years ago-

“Mr. Lee, thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me.” You pull out the chair to sit across from him. The massive mahogany desk of his placing a rather large distance between the two of you.

“Yes well, my building manager said you were very persistent.” There’s a small roll in his eyes as he looks from you down to the computer in front of him.

“I wanted to discuss one of your properties, an office space in the Madeline Suites.”

He takes a swift glance at your modest appearance with narrowing eyes. “Forgive me, but I believe that location might be out of your price range.”

“Monetarily yes,” You agree. “But we offer services which might be helpful to you.”

“I do not deal in favours. I can see that this meeting was a waste of time, you may go.” He waves the back of his hand to shoo you out, while his secretary grabs the door from the outside.

“I am not asking for a favour, but offering you my services. I’m the co-founder of a corporate image consulting firm. And come this time tomorrow, I believe you’ll be looking for someone within our realm of dealings.”

“And what makes you say that?” Lee asks, his words laced with cynicism.

You lay out the first page of the article which Yoongi had sent you, stretching it across the wooden surface to place it in Mr. Lee’s view. ‘Real Estate Developer Lee Gungsang Faced Prior Allegations of Unlawful Evictions and Price Hiking.’ “This is slated for tomorrow morning’s front page.”

Mr. Lee is quick to send his secretary off, the door shutting once again. “How do you know about this? These cases were settled before they made it anywhere near the courts.”

“I have my sources.”

“Then stop this! I will pay whomever needs to be paid to prevent this from leaching out. You want the office space, it's yours.” He’s voice is desperate, you have him on the hook, the question now is, how long will he let you drag him for?

“That’s very generous of you, but nothing will stop this from going out tomorrow. My offer is simply to help you get ahead of it and lessen the damage.” You explain, revelling in the fact that money can’t hide everything.

“And how do you propose to do that?”

You pull out a contract for your serves. “I will need you to sign off on my services first. A small fee plus a far more reasonable price for a three year lease of the offices on the 14th floor of the Madeline Suites”

“Without knowing your plan, I think not.”

You give him a bright smile before mimicking his earlier statement. “I do not deal in favours Mr. Lee.”

He grumbles while taking the pen, eyeing you with a dark gaze as he signs on the dotted line.

With the ink still drying you hand over another small document. “Here are a few of my suggestions. Twenty percent of the commercial residences that you have just vacated will be handed over to non-profits for a drastically reduced monthly lease. I’ll even let you pick which you want to support.”

He looks up at you mortified. “This is excessive.”

“No this is necessary. I’ve seen corporations do far more than this when they are not dealing with a scandal. Your accountants will agree with me that this is the best move, it can be seen as a donation and therefore tax deductible. For the evicted private residences, I was thinking of partnering with a refugee resettlement program but we can discuss that more in depth later.”

You carefully tuck away your contract in Lee’s file before dragging another concern to the forefront. “I do have one more request, before I leave today.”

“What more could you possibly want?” He scoffs.

You lean in to deliver your short but important demand. “A heads up.”

“I don’t know what you mean...”

“I mean if there are any other past dealings or actions which might impact your company I need to be aware of them.” There’s always more hidden in the dark, you have one of those secrets on hand now. You need to see if he’s willing to be upfront with you on every dealing of his past, otherwise you might be forced to dig him out from another grave a couple weeks from now.

“There’s nothing else.”

“Nothing?” You ask again as you pull out your phone ready to bring forward more evidence.

“No.”

“So the knowledge of you having and hiding an illegitimate son... you don’t think that’s important? The existence of the only child of the Lee empire, isn’t newsworthy?”

“How did you-” The terror in his face looks to be even greater than the prior accusation.

“You attempted to evict all of the residents who stayed in your residential apartment for over 10 years if they refused to agree with a massive lease hike. Park Jimin was the only one who wasn’t touched. He has no record of a job, living off what must be money given to him by his parents, so I looked into them. His father wasn’t listed but his late mother, Park Haesoon, used to work for your company, and 22 years ago she signed a NDA issued by your lawyer.”

You open to Jimin’s public instagram page turning it around for his father to see. “He may take mostly after his mother, but I can still see a few clues to your family resemblance.”

“When does this one drop?” Lee asks in dismay.

“It’s not going to, at least, not from me or my source. We try not to deal in personal life consulting, but I am going to give you some advice in this matter. Get ahead of it.”

“My wife won’t hear of it.” Mr. Lee mutters through clenched teeth, it’s easy to see that this conversation has him very much on edge.

You nod seeing the crux of his dilemma. “I looked into the approximate date of his conception, you were newly married at the time, were you not?”

“Yes. She knows, but her family does not, they have a large political presence and we cannot afford to lose all support from them. Trust me, the boy is not worth the risk.”

“He’s your child!” You berate the CEO, your anger getting the better of you as you think of the emotional toll on Jimin. Not only did he lose his mother but his father won't even publicly acknowledge him.

“I won’t be swayed on this matter. If you have nothing else to say you may leave.” Mr. Lee rises from his desk and once again gestures towards the door. “I’ll have keys to your new office space delivered to you tomorrow along with the lease. But I should warn you, if there is even a whisper of his name in public in conjunction with mine, I can assure you, your so-called firm won’t last another week.”

...

Less than a month later you and Hoseok have moved your entire enterprise to the new office space. You’re holding an open house for several different staff positions, when the most unlikely of applicants walks in your door, Park Jimin.

He hands you a piece of paper which you can only guess is his resume, because your eyes fail to leave his face, your mouth unable to form words in your state of shock. Closing the door behind him, he gives you a nervous smile. “Judging from your expression, I take it you know who I am?”

You manage a single nod, still confused as to why he’s here, now, with you. It’s lucky you’re conducting the interviews alone, otherwise it would be difficult to explain your shock to Hoseok without exposing Jimin’s lineage.

“I’ve been wanting to meet with you,” Jimin confesses, adding sheepishly, “My father told me of your meeting. He said you took a bit of an interest in me, even found my social media accounts.”

“Oh, oh no.” You finally manage to sputter out, far more anxious with the younger man than his father. You never intended to meet Jimin, let alone have him find out you dug into some very personal aspects of his past and present. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t intend to invade your privacy. I was only trying to figure out what was going on. And when I learned the truth, I wanted him to own up to his mistake of hiding you.”

Jimin chuckles lightly, sitting down in front of you, “I didn’t come here looking for an apology Miss, I know why you did it. I merely wanted to meet one of the few people to ever successfully scare the shit out of my father.”

The wide beaming smile accompanying his statement spurs a laugh from you, while also allowing you to relax in his presence. “Sometimes you have to intimidate these people to get them to do the right thing. But I’m sorry I wasn’t able to convince him to go public regarding everything.”

“That’s not your fault. In the end it was just nice to hear that there's someone who thinks I deserve better.” Jimin adds, with a look of sorrow leaching into his smile.

“Of course you do, but I must ask, why come here now?” You take a moment to confirm that it is in fact his resume that he’s handed you. ”I can’t imagine that you need a job.” He’s appearance alone is enough to tell you he’s buried in wealth, though his father has not given him the family name, it looks as if Jimin has gained some of the assets.

“Actually that’s exactly what I was looking for.”

“Your father didn’t pressure you to come here to keep an eye on me did he?” You ask with scepticism. Keeping watch over possible threats wouldn’t be a completely off brand for those of his status. And with you knowing some of his deepest secrets you could likely be considered one of the biggest risks.

“No.” Jimin chuckles, briefly raising his hands in surrender. “I promise I’m here of my own volition. Money isn’t my biggest concern, I’ve been hoping to build connections. I want to use my time wisely and work with someone who is worthy of my focus, and that just so happens to be you.” He finishes with a suggestive smirk, making you wonder if you’ve won his affection too.

“And what does your focus get me?” You ask, trying to weigh the benefits versus the risk. You doubt that Mr. Lee will respond kindly to you hiring his son, but if he continues to deny his son’s existence then what right does he have to disagree?

“Anything you require. I was interested in the posting for your secretary, but any position beneath you would suit me nicely.”

...

There’s no way you’ll be able to convince Jimin to willingly change roles and work for Hoseok instead. But you can’t deny that your co-founder’s points are valid.

Jimin greets you warmly as you enter your office. “Did you have a nice lunch?”

“Yeah, it was good.” You respond, forcing out a smile.

“Really? Because you look upset.”

You curse Jimin’s ability to read you at a time like this. “I promise, lunch was fine. Yoongi gave me some substantial leads.” You sigh sliding back in your seat. With your values shaken and morals questioned by Hoseok, you are deeply in need of someone to brace yourself on. Wanting to step out of the realm of responsibility and control even if it’s just for a moment, you make a request to Jimin. “Would you go fetch Jungkook for our meeting?”

“I can just call him in.” He makes the case looking reluctant to leave your side.

“Please Jimin just go get him. I need a few minutes for a personal call.”

Jimin looks at you crestfallen before finally leaving. It’s not often you keep things from him, he can scope you out too well for that. But Kim Namjoon’s actual role in your life is the one secret you feel is the most imperative to hide from him.

You pull out your cell, not wanting to use his number on your work phone. After two rings he picks up. “Couldn’t wait a few more hours to hear my voice baby girl?”

You're too embarrassed to admit he’s right, settling on another excuse for your call. “N-no I just wanted to let you know that I’ve sent someone your way... sir.”

“Don’t lie to me I can hear the need in your voice.” He chuckles lightly as he taunts you. “Your reference already reached out to me. I’m excited to play with him, is he just as handsome as he sounds?”

“More so.”

Namjoon hums on the line in gratification. “My babygirl, giving me another pet to play with.”

You blush from the praise. Taehyung makes the sixth person you’ve suggested following the charity ball you met Namjoon at a couple years ago. Where he, much like you, was secretly scoping out potential clients. Every one of those patrons you’ve given him since then has been his pet, but you, you’re his babygirl.

“I was wondering...” Namjoon’s carries on, in a tone far more hesitant than usual. “Tonight would you be willing to try something a little unconventional? Would you like to share him?”

“W-would that be okay?” He’s never suggested adding another to your sessions before, but you can’t deny you’re intrigued by the prospect.

“He mentioned an interest in you, and after discussing his needs I feel that I require someone other than myself to pin his desires on. You’ll be the carrot while I’ll be the stick. Do you think you could do that for me?” Namjoon proposes in a low purr dragging every heated thought and possibility to the forefront of your mind.

“Yes sir.” Your response is instant, with little thought required. Helping Namjoon with Taehyung? You’d be a fool to turn down the opportunity. There’s a small knock on your office door with the return of Jimin and Jungkook trailing behind him. You start to panic while still on the phone with Namjoon. “I’ll see you later then?”

Namjoon can of course detect the change in your tone, but instead of letting you off the hook he pulls you further. “Did someone walk in on you babygirl? I take it they don’t know about this side of you?”

“No they don’t.”

“No sir.” He calls out your lack of decorum, an error which you know you’ll pay for later. “Such a shame they’re missing out. What do you think they would say if they knew of my plans for you tonight? How I intend to hang you like forbidden fruit above another man. Do you think they would approve?”

Your eyes widen as Namjoon continues and Jungkook takes the seat in front of you with Jimin standing behind him. You clear your throat and hold up your finger to them, gesturing for another minute. Turning away to hide your face as you continue to try and end the call. But hanging up on one’s dom is never advisable, condemning you to listen for as long as he wishes to torment.

“I bet you would like them watch, wouldn’t you?” Namjoon asks, egging on your sinful thoughts, transferring them from Taehyung over to your co-workers.

You shift your thighs trying to dispel the building need as you consider the notation of them watching. Imagining Jungkook’s wide eyes taking in the sight, likely with a hand on his cock, he’s an innocent man with strong desires. You’ve known others like him before, they act with naivete but when confronted with an opportunity for more, they don’t hesitate to gorge on what is presented to them.

And Jimin, would he accept your darker needs? You wish he would, desperately wanting him to play along, to help mould you into submission. Your head now filled with thoughts of kneeling before him taking him in your mouth while he christens you a good girl. If only you could be sure that he wouldn’t react like most people, like those who condemned Taehyung. Your eyes flutter back over to your secretary who is looking at you with deep suspicion. You desperately need to end the call or risk giving yourself away. “I should probably-”

“Am I embarrassing you baby girl?” Namjoon teases with an amused laugh. “Does that mean I’m right?”

“Yes...”

“Yes sir.” Namjoon reminds you once again. “I’ll release you for now, but I better see you here at seven o’clock sharp. Is that understood?”

You breathe a sigh of relief at the release. “Yes sir.” After finally hanging up, you offer up an apology. “Sorry about that.”

“Who was it?” Jimin inquires with a soft tone, but a quick lick to his lips shows his intentions to be far from innocent. His clenched fists and hovering nature further pointing towards jealousy.

“No one important.” You smile through the lie, careful in your attempt to comfort him. It’s pointless to keep acting in this way, but you still can’t bear the thought of disheartening his feelings or pushing him away.

...

After your meeting with Jungkook, you're left with a stack of paperwork and your ever persistent lack of concentration as you try to figure out what can be done with Jimin. Should you just tell him the issue, would it help or would it make the situation worse? If he knows how he is perceived then will the affection stop, and if it does, will you struggle with that loss?

“Can I walk you to your car Miss?” Jimin asks with his jacket in hand. You check the time, reading just after five. So lost in thought you had accomplished almost nothing in the last few hours of the day.

“I think I might just stay here until I have to leave for my appointment, I still have a bit more work to do.” You explain rubbing your hands over your face as you pull yourself from your daze.

“Do you want me to stay too then?”

“No, I couldn’t ask that of you. But before you go I’d like to discuss something” You gesture to the seat across from you which he takes with hesitation. You’re usually not so formal and he can clearly spot the difference. You open your mouth and pause trying to find the right words as his eyes shine in your direction. The evening sun pouring into the room bathing his skin in with golden light makes it so much harder to stick to the issue at hand. You eventually resort to staring at the irrelevant papers on your desk as you open with your concern.

“I’m worried that our actions towards each other imply that our relationship is not strictly professional.” You blurt it out quickly, hating every word that crosses your lips.

“Have I been making you uncomfortable Miss?” Jimin’s expression falls along with his question, the heartbreak ringing out clear in his voice.

“No, no. It’s just, I’m concerned about how others see our interactions.”

“Oh, so someone said something to you then?”

“Hoseok mentioned that a few people think we appear to be a bit more than boss and secretary.” You know it cowardly to bring Hoseok into this, but the information is second hand. You can’t be sure what others have said exactly.

“Well you do know more about me than most.” Jimin laughs lightly.

“That’s not what they are implying. They think we are engaged in a sexual relationship.”

“And...” He draws the word out as if the implication is nothing, implying there should be a better reason for your concerns.

“We aren’t Jimin!”

“Well, there's only one way to fix that.” He stands up leaning towards you over your desk. “You can’t say you haven’t thought about it. We could keep it a secret if you’d like, no one has to know.”

You doubt Jimin could keep a relationship between the two of you hidden, with the way he dotes on you already, you’re one passionate night away from finding three dozen roses on your desk. “Someone would find out, and the fall out-”

“Fuck the fall out,” Jimin states with resolve, reaching out his fingers tucking back a strand of your hair before curling beneath your chin. “I’m tired of this charade. Hoseok only said something because he’s jealous. He’s jealous that you want me as much as I want you.”

“Jimin,” You whisper. “Even if that was the case, that still doesn’t make it right.” You pull back from his touch. “You should go. Think about what I said, because if we can’t maintain at least some level of restraint and professionalism... then you might be better off working for someone else in the office.”

“So you’d rather keep your social image than be happy with me?” Jimin accuses, the usual warmth having completely vanished from his face.

“It’s not like that. My standing is my life, it’s my career, any blemish would destroy everything I have.” You attempt to express the fear inside you, the weight that bears on you every day. You already have so many secrets and liabilities, but one as close and extensive as a relationship with him might finally crush you and everything you’ve built. “I like you, I really do, but I can’t take the risk. You have to understand, I’m not like you. I don’t have a secret trust fund to fall back on.”

Jimin looks as though you’ve stabbed him, pulling away he heads to the exit. “I’m sorry I’m not worth the risk. You know, I thought you were better than that, but it would seem you’re just like everyone else.”

The door slamming between you echoes through the office as you sag in your chair. Never in all your years have you ever sunk so low. By taking him on you wanted to ensure Jimin’s happiness, to show him his value despite the lack of acknowledgement from his father, but now it seems you’ve fallen into the same role as those who have hurt him before.

...

You type your code into Namjoon’s door, stepping into his hall quickly and shutting the door behind you. It’s just before seven and usually you find him in his living room already waiting, but today it’s empty. Not wanting to disturb him, you take a seat on the couch and wait patiently for him to join you.

You feel ready to fold in on yourself as you continue to dwell on your argument with Jimin. If you laid out boundaries earlier you likely wouldn’t be where you are now. Hating yourself over his confession, and your inability to accept it.

There’s movement from the bedroom door as Namjoon’s partner Seokjin comes out to greet you. You look up in bewilderment as he takes your hand, pulling you off the couch. “Namjoon has already started with the other client, so he sent me to fetch you.”

You nod understanding Namjoon’s divergence from the norm, it wouldn’t be safe practice for him to leave Taehyung alone in a precarious position. Now looking to the door with curiosity, you’re excited by what lustful visions will greet you on the other side. But when Seokjin presents something to you it’s clear that you won’t get to see those sights.

“You’ve been asked to wear this.” He holds out a wide silken strip, one that Namjoon has used as a blindfold in the past. You allow Seokjin to cover your eyes, with a touch far more gentle than you know Namjoon’s to be. You don’t want kindness, craving instead to be broken in by the man in the other room, especially after the damage you’ve done today. The loss of your vision will have to be punishment enough for the time being.

“Does he want me to undress too?” You ask, touching the silk over your eyes, you're completely blind and already longing for the next step.

“No he wishes to save that pleasure for himself.”

You smirk thinking he might, you’ve been wearing his gift all day it’s only right that he gets to see it first.

There’s a knock and a click of the door before Seokjin takes you in hand again, leading you in. The air is warmer and heavier than that of the living room, making it impossible to draw a fresh breath.

Seokjin pushes down on your shoulder, a wordless order to kneel. The plush carpet meeting your knees as you lower yourself, if only you could reach out to get a better sense of what’s in front of you, but form dictates that you keep your hands on your lap.

The bedroom door closes, signalling Seokjin's departure. Sending one last wave of clean air before you're smothered once again. Locked away for the night with your master and his new pet. There’s a small creek from the mattress and the familiar rattle of restraints against the bedpost. You can just barely make out the tone of Namjoon’s low whisper as he speaks to the current tenant of the bed.

Footsteps land to your left, muffled by the wall to wall but still sending vibrations through the floor. As Namjoon approaches, your heart pounds wondering what his first move against you will be. He takes his sweet time letting the anticipation build as your chest continues to heave in its attempts to take in the thick air. You keep your posture, maintaining your stance with the knowledge that he will inspect you. Head lowered, hands on thighs, perched on your toes as your knees dig into the ground. Your legs soon start to tremble as your feet strain to bear the weight.

Namjoon settles right in front of you, the slow draw of his breath reaches your ears, while the heat of his exhale hits your face. A hand trails up the outside of your thigh stilling the tremor in your legs with a forceful grip. You freeze wondering if your jitters will cost you, you can’t let him find fault not if you want him to reward you with his presence.

But as he takes your chin tightly between his index and his thumb, you know you're in the clear. He tilts your head up as you breathe a sigh of relief. “Such a good girl, setting the perfect example.” His fingers slide down petting the column of your throat with a firm touch. “I was so happy to receive your picture this morning, did you wear the gift all day as ordered?”

“Yes sir.” You pant back, eager for him to see for himself.

“It wasn’t too hard for you then, to go so long in such a confined state?”

“No sir.”

“Good girl,” He purrs in your ear as he starts unfastening your shirt. He hesitates on the buttons for a moment. “Babygirl, would you care to tell me why you're wearing a men’s shirt?”

You swallow not wanting to admit that it’s the fault of the man currently lying in his bed. You plan to take the fall, wanting Namjoon’s undivided attention even if it’s in the form of a punishment. “I spilled something on mine sir.”

“So clumsy.” He has the shirt completely off now revealing the corset for him and likely Taehyung to see. Namjoon helps you to stand, unzipping your skirt he pushes it to the floor. You feel so helpless without your sight but Namjoon doesn’t seem to mind assisting. He uses the soft fabric of the shirt to dab at the sweat beading on your skin. “Who, may I ask, clothed you in theirs? Such an expensive label, he must think highly of you.”

You shift in place, made uncomfortable by your inability to answer. Knowing if you say his name thoughts of him will be summoned to your mind. You don’t deserve to think of him at such a time, not after you led him on and left him dry.

“You don’t wish to tell me?” The feel of Namjoon’s breath leaves you, the sounds of his feet indicating he’s moved to the right of you. Heading to a space you know to be occupied by a table and closet full of his tools. There’s a scrap of metal and what sounds like the jingle of buckles.

“No sir.”

“And why is that?” Fingers trail up your arm as Namjoon signals his return to your side.

“Because I’m not allowed to have him sir.”

“A noble response.” Namjoon reasons while he wraps the leather strap of a familiar collar around your neck. “But I still plan to get that name from you before we’re done.” He buckles it swiftly checking the tightness with two fingers. You thought him finished but he progresses to cuff your wrists in leather too, tethering them together in front of you.

He leans in again with a hushed request, “Still know your safe word?” You nod repeating is back to him before he leads you on towards the bed.

Namjoon stands behind you as he presents you to his new pet. When you gave Taehyung Namjoon’s number you hadn’t been expecting this but you can’t deny enjoying the prospect. But you find the silence and lack of reaction from him unnerving. “I asked him not to make a sound,” Namjoon explains, “And he’s abiding by my rules so well it’s he?”

Namjoon takes your hands helping you to feel the current state in which Taehyung is interned. A Leather cuff just like yours binds one of his wrists with a short chain leading to bedpost. You imagine that his other limbs are restricted to the other corners of the bed, for Namjoon has bound you in the same state before.

“Can he see?” You ask Namjoon wondering if he has been left blind too, or if he’s eyes are watching you now.

“Can he see you? He can babygirl, in fact, he hasn’t looked away once, and why would he?” Namjoon sits you down on the large bed to join Taehyung before pulling down the matching underwear to your corset. “They’re so wet, have you been soaking these all day?”

You nod in response. A delighted Namjoon makes an offer to Taehyung. “Would you like a taste pet? A reward for being so good.” Namjoon revels in his situation with a chuckle, the man beneath you must have nodded. “Then open up.” You know what a taste means for Namjoon, those panties of yours are most certainly shoved into Taehyung's mouth. He lets out a groan of satisfaction at the welcome intrusion.

Namjoon’s hands find your waist dragging you up further on to the bed with your knees now resting on the mattress. “You’re going to straddle him for me babygirl.” He shifts you over pulling up one of your legs to settle them on either side of the man beneath you. Your knees bent with your calves coming to rest against his bare hips. Without his billowy clothes he is far more slight than you expected, but his skin feels firm and toned.

You slowly move to lower yourself knowing what you will come down on top of as you sit, but Namjoon seems to have other plans in mind. He takes your bound wrist, lifting them above your head and latching the cuffs to a chain in the rafters of the canopy bed. Once fixed in place he tests your limitations, a quick tug to show you even with your arms fully extended you are only able to lower yourself to half a kneel. You groan in frustration with the realization you can’t move any closer to the cock that rests below you. It’s just as he promised, hung like forbidden fruit above another man. Your dominant’s flare for the poetic never failing to surprise you.

“Problem babygirl?” Namjoon cooes in your ear. “Do you have something you want to say?”

“No sir.”

“Good, because if I recall you still need to be punished for your lack of formality on the phone earlier today.”

Your stomach drops as you realize he’s going to discipline you right now, in full view of Taehyung. The heat rises to your face at the thought of being demeaned in front of another. Namjoon’s hand cups your bare ass, readying it for the assault. “You failed to call me sir twice, three for each lapse should do it.”

While the first strike eases you in, those that follow are not so gentle. The ring of his index biting your flesh with each impact. The third strike is so strong you pivot forward on your knees, your back arching as you bare forward still confined to the corset and chains. The weight of your body pulls painfully on your shoulders for a brief second, but Namjoon is there to catch you. Stopping you before you can slip and more, and propping you back in place before continuing.

One hand lays firmly on your stomach to prevent the shift from happening again, while the other rubs the curve of your ass mapping where he should strike next. You can feel the warmth in your skin as the blood rises to the surface in reaction to his beating. Your nerves are caught in the struggle between pain and pleasure, even as the sixth and final blow lands.

“Good girl.” Namjoon whispers his touch disappearing, as you ease down against your restraints. You hang completely by your wrists while your legs quake from the shock. Every nerve in your body feels as though it’s been left on fire with nothing to quench the flames. Leaving you to hang there for what seems like eternity.

“Sir?” You whisper in the dark as the heat continues to build inside you. Wondering where he has gone your body reacts, begging for the return of his attention with a dripping cunt. And with Taehyung below that can only mean the steady drip of your arousal is left to fall on him.

“Babygirl you’re making such a mess.” Namjoon confirms along with a groan from the man beneath you. “But he appears to be leaking too. Do you want some?” You nod eager for a taste.

Namjoon obliges, grabbing your throat in one hand, he presses a damp finger to your lips for you to take. Your mouth latches over the offered digit, allowing the bitter fluid to sweep over your tongue. You're forced to let it sit there unable to swallow as the grip on your throat tightens, with the strap of the collar digging into your skin. Your mouth fills with saliva prompting you to close it despite your desperate need for air.

“Does he taste good?” Namjoon wickedly possesses knowing you can barely even nod. It’s when you start to tremble that he finally releases your airway.

You swallow quickly before letting your mouth hang open in a pant. With your lungs still restricted by the corset your breathing comes in short shuddering waves. “Yes sir, so good.”

“I think he likes having you drench him, shall we give him more?”

“Please.” You beg but Namjoon suddenly delivers a staggering blow to your backside, indicating your misstep. You’re left gasping from the sudden impact, swinging in the restraints as you try to recoil. “Please sir.” Your plea comes again this time with the proper decorum.

There’s a crinkle of what sounds like a condom wrapper as Namjoon readies himself behind you. His fingers damp with lubrication find your back entrance, your tight hole giving way to a single finger. “You’ve been training for me like I asked?”

“Yes sir.” You almost come at the thought of it along with pleasure with the swirling digit. You’ve dabbled in anal before testing out a few toys, but a few weeks ago he sent you a plug with a tapered t-shaped end, giving you strict orders to wear it to work the following day. Unfortunately that was the date you had scheduled a meeting with your whole team. You were a flustered mess as you fought through your presentation, Jimin’s presence by your side making it so much more difficult to maintain control of your arousal . But the full day of public and torturous stimulation was worth it, for the reward that night was a call from Namjoon. His orders led you through every action of self pleasure. Telling you when and where to touch before finally directing you to come. You’ve used the item several times on your own since, knowing your practice would help you in this moment. You wanted to make Namjoon proud and take him with little resistance. That desire now intensified with having Taehyung as an audience.

“Then you're ready to take me in front of him?”

You nod gripping chains of the restraints as Namjoon eases into you. “Just relax.” His hands glide down your shoulders and back, coming to rest splayed across your hips, the tips of his finger root under the corset and dig into your stomach. Your grip eases as you lean back into him. “That’s it.” He mutters quietly as you stretch to accommodate him. “Good girl.”

After taking a few inches Namjoon pushes down on the front of your corset bowing the metal latches back to so they release, with a few clicks and swift presses the garment is off allowing you to breathe deeper than you have all day.

“God you should see him babygirl, he’s so ruined by the sight of you. You have him panting for you.” You wish you could curse Namjoon for his choice to blindfold you and silence Taehyung, you would take any punishment that came of it, but all you can muster is a gasp while he continues to fill you more. “I wonder how he’ll react,” One of Namjoon’s hands leaves your hips coming to rest with something soft against your aching clit. “When he sees you come.” With a click the object vibrates, throwing you back completely onto Namjoons cock from the shock.

You catch Namjoon’s lustful groan between your cries. He starts to thrust inside of you one hand gripping your chest while the other holds the vibrate down in place despite your bucking hips. It doesn’t take long for you to completely fold. As the heat inside you finally reaches its peak you shatter, your head falling back on Namjoon’s shoulder as you convulse and moan. With nothing for your cunt to clench your legs grip the trussed man between them. He too lets out a sinful groan as the fluids from your fold continue to drip down your legs meet his adjoining skin.

Namjoon turns the device off and slips out, the bed shifts as he moves in front of you. When his hand cups your face you lean into his touch. “You okay?”

You nod hoping he’ll be lenient with your lack of speech. You hear him whisper as he checks in with Taehyung too. “I’m going to take these now.” Namjoon must finally be freeing him from the waded underwear of yours.

Namjoon’s hands find you again, playing with the arousal dripping down your legs as he drags his fingers up to the source. A finger grazes your folds slipping between without penetrating. You pull desperately against your restraints hoping that it might find its way inside.

“So are you going to tell me who you’re not allowed to have?” Namjoon asks again. “Or do I have to let you hang here all night?”

“My secretary...” You give in with a whisper, hoping that Taehyung won’t hear.

“And what’s his name? Say it and I’ll give you what you want.”

The deal is too good for you to resist, you last only a couple more seconds before finally giving in. Crying out, “Jimin,” as two of Namjoon’s fingers breach you. Your sopping slit squelching as he curls his fingers.

“There it is.” Namjoon sighs, his other hand brushing your cheek. “Is he the reason you’re so worked up tonight babygirl?”

“Y-yes sir.” You stutter as his fingers continue. He gives you another minute of bliss before removing his digits.

“You’re going to do something for me, okay?” Namjoon asks. You nod as he continues to hold your face. “That man between your legs, you are going to fuck him and imagine Jimin as you do so, is that clear?”

“Yes sir.”

“Is that okay with you pet?” He asks the other occupant, who still remains silent with his answers. The sound of another condom wrapper, comes as your confirmation. Taehyung lets out an unexpected high pitched whine, likely due to the pressure that comes with the latex being rubbed down his shaft. You’re already so invested in the lie that he’s even starting to sound like Jimin.

Namjoon is once again behind you. You can hear the rattle of the length of chain that holds you up and as he sinks back into you, his cock slipping in far easier this time, your body gladly welcomes the fullness of his intrusion. He then lowers you inch by inch, with little strength left in your legs you are relying only on the restraints and Namjoon to hold you up. After gaining a bit more freedom you can feel the tip of a cock brushing up against you. Namjoon’s arm comes to rest on your thigh as he lines the erection up for you to take it inside. It’s a slow descent, as you stretch to accommodate both of them. Your thankful Namjoon’s mercy for easing you down gradually.

When you bottom out Namjoon pulls the chain down from the rafters he releases the length from your cuffs, but rather than discarding it he attaches it to your collar, tugging on it as if it’s a leash. Though your hands are still bound together you have the freedom to rest them on the man laying down in front of you. You take pleasure in dragging the tips of your fingers across his skin, feeling his abs flex and his cock twitch inside you as you do so.

Namjoon starts to thrust, keeping a close hold on your collar. While he pushes you are sent up and down on what you desperately want to be Jimin’s thick cock. After a few thrusts you are shoved forward entirely by Namjoon, colliding with the man beneath you. Your chest is pushed into his, as your bound hands are pinned between the two of you. While your head is left to rest on his shoulder, the tip of your nose is able to graze his neck. As you breathe in your mind continues to play tricks, the smell coming off him mimics that of the cologne your secretary wears, rather than the scent of Taehyung.

Namjoon must have unbound his legs as they bend up to cradle your own from behind his hips bucking into yours, with both men taking you at a steady pace.

You move in closer to his neck, with a lick you taste the salt of his skin showing your intentions. Biting down on the spot, you suck in deeply as your teeth dig in even harder. The carnal groans you receive from him sending shivers to your spine. There’s the sound of a soft slap, Namjoon didn’t hit you, but the man beneath you returns to his ordered silence.

Namjoon thrusts even harder, pushing you into his chest repeatedly. The thought of being fucked into Jimin’s embrace is too much to bear. Your cunt clenches as you continue envisioning your secretary, and how you're grinding your clit against his pelvis.

You cry out over the swelling girths inside you, knowing their both likely to come soon. Clenching down one last time you dissolve in the pleasure and contentment. Namjoon finishes first remaining inside while his pet comes too. He leaves you there laying upon your imagined Jimin, in your daze you can barely move let alone focus on reality. With a wave of exhaustion you start to slip from consciousness, but not before one last praise reaches your ears. Your delirium grants you the satisfaction of hearing the voice of Jimin whisper, “Good girl.”

...

You can’t remember the last time you slept so well. You woke early to find Namjoon had taken care of you in the night, he released your wrist cuffs, and removed your blindfold, after you had passed out from the physical exertion. The only restraint to remain was your collar which he asked you to wear today. Taehyung was sadly already gone, but you can’t deny it was nice to have Namjoon to yourself before you left.

Now as you head off to work, showered and freshly dressed, with a turtleneck hiding your gift, you check your phone for the first time. Finding a string of apologetic messages sent from Jimin in the early hours of the morning. You reply apologizing too and asking to revisit the subject as soon as you get into work. Thankfully he agrees, the smiling emoji he ends his text on sends a wave of relief through you.

You step in the front entrance of your building ready to handle and objectively listen to Jimin’s thoughts and concerns. While you wait for the elevator your phone vibrates listing a call from an unknown number. “Hello?”

“Hey it’s Taehyung. Hope you don’t mind, I stole your personal number from my father.”

“Taehyung...” Heat starts to rise in your face at the thought of last night. The elevator arrives and you quickly step in. “No, not at all, to what do I owe the honour of this call.”

“No need to be so formal,” He giggles at you.

“Sorry, habit,” You respond. “What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to thank you for yesterday...” Taehyung starts off.

But his words are soon interrupted by someone shouting, “Hold the door.” You comply, pushing the button to keep them open, while trying to keep your focus on your conversation with Taehyung.

“...It’s not often that I meet someone who I can be so open with. I called the man you recommended and I’ve scheduled my first session with him tomorrow.”

You freeze, unable to fully comprehend what he’s saying, surely he misspoke. It can’t be his first session. “W-what do you mean your first session is tomorrow? You were there-” The collar hidden beneath your turtleneck feels as though it’s tightening around your throat. “Last night, I saw you-” The line goes dead as the elevator closes and starts to ascend. It was Taehyung in the bed with you and Namjoon last night. You saw... nothing you saw nothing because of the blindfolded that you were asked to wear.

“Everything okay?” You jump at the sound of the other voice, forgetting that some else had gotten into the elevator. Looking up you find Jimin there beaming at you, his head tilted from his query.

“Namjoon,” You flutter with your phone, too panicked to even greet your secretary properly. “I need to call Namjoon.” But the line won’t connect, not with you in the elevator. “Fuck...” You try again your patience not willing to wait the minute it’ll take to disembark on your floor.

You are almost there when the elevator shudders and stops. The sudden halt sends you off balance, but Jimin’s there to grab hold of you before you can fall. You thank him before stepping back and putting a bit of distance between the two of you again.

Jimin turns his attention to the panel, pushing the call button, he waits for someone to answer, but the call remains silent.

While he continues in his attempt to make contact, every scene of the night before floods back to your memory as you try to piece everything together. It was Taehyung, it had to be. He must just be playing a stupid joke. He was surely going to shout ‘gotcha’ before the phone disconnected, but you won’t know for certain until someone can get you off this blasted lift. You sink to the floor and Jimin follows, unable to reach anyone on the outside.

Despite your best efforts to rationalize what happened, your panicked breaths fail to slow, Spots start appearing in your vision as the elevator sways around you. Your breakfast threatens to make another appearance on the polished marble floor.

“It’ll be fine. Someone will notice soon.” Jimin attempts to comfort you but even that won’t quash the fear raging inside you.

“It’s not just that...” You whisper. “Something happened last night. I need to call Namjoon, I need to figure out...” Who was actually in that bed with you. Your confusion and panic break free sending you into a fit of tears as you hug your knees to your chest.

“Hush, it’s okay.” Jimin readjusts, moving in front of you and taking your hands in his. He leans towards you as he whispers in your ear. “Don’t cry babygirl.”

Your eyes snap to look at Jimin in alarm. Your prior worries are nothing compared to the terror which takes hold now. “H-how do you know that name?” Your stuttered words barely make their way past your lips.

“I think you know the answer to that question.” He pulls at the collar of his shirt allowing you to spot a large red mark on his neck, right where you had bitten the man you once thought to be Taehyung. “I wanted to wait a bit longer, I wanted more moments like we had last night but it would seem that someone had to go and ruin it.” You pull back but Jimin’s hands shift to take hold of your wrists, mimicking the manacles that embraced you the night before. “Are you not happy babygirl? You got your wish. And I... I got what I’ve always wanted.”

“This is so wrong Jimin! You knew I thought you were someone else! You knew that I wouldn’t have done that last night if I knew the truth.”

“Even though I was the one you really wanted babygirl?”

“Stop calling me that! Just because of what happened last night does not make me yours. You lied to Namjoon. You said that I sent you. You told him you were Taehyung!”

Jimin gives a wicked laugh in response to your accusations. “Oh, but you are mine. Namjoon is the one who’s been keeping things from you. He’s been in my employ far longer than yours.” He coos as his fingers tighten their grip on you. “I was the reason you were introduced to him, and I was the one who bestowed you with that name shortly after.”

“No, that’s not possible, Namjoon and I, we met at a charity event.”

“Hosted by my father. Where I told him to make himself known to you, to entice you to become one of his pets. I may have acted the sub last night but I am the one who holds Namjoon’s reins, I always have.”

“No he would never do that! He’s considerate and-”

“Had so much to gain by dominating you on my behalf. Money, power, and an assurance of safety, he would’ve been a fool to turn my offer down. Especially since you were so willing to play along with him. I dare say he enjoyed his time with you, but I was the one who permitted him to touch you. I was there to listen, to read, and to direct every conversation. Those gifts he told you to wear to the office, they were all from me.” He lets go of one of your wrists to pull down the neck of your shirt. Revealing the leather band strapped around your neck. “Today it’s the collar, yesterday it was the corset, and a few weeks ago...” Jimin smirks as he recalls the memory to your mind. “You barely made it through that meeting thanks to my gift.”

It’s impossible to swallow the admissions coming from him, but regardless of what may be true or false, you won’t stand for any of it. “You’ve had your fun, but this ends now.” You reach up attempting to remove the collar but Jimin pushes you to the floor pinning your arms above you as he straddles you. The elevator wavers from the struggle, teetering as you lay captive beneath him.

“I don’t think you understand the situation you’ve placed yourself in. I hold in my possession your darkest secrets. One’s that will ruin you if they make their way out. Your illegal activity with a sex worker, your inappropriate sexual conduct with your secretary. Not to mention the names and dubious activities of every client you’ve recommended to Namjoon’s services.”

“Why... why are you doing this?”

“Because you found me. I worked so hard to exploit my father from the outside, getting everything I wanted without the threat of public exposure. I couldn’t let you ruin it all. When we first met I considered you a threat, but then I saw how easy and enjoyable it was to mould to my will. The more intimate you become with someone the more power you give them over you. Simply being your secretary isn’t enough, not if I want you in a more pliable state.” Jimin hushed whisper mixes with a haunting giggle as his lips come to your ear. “I plan to bend you to fit every one of my needs.”

“You’re psychotic!” You lash out trying to throw him off but he stems your revolt by planting himself further down on to you, sitting on your chest as the elevator sways.

“Psychotic? No, I am simply a man who found his passion amidst his revenge. I know what I desire, and vengeance has taught me how best to take it. So if you want to keep yourself and everything else around you from falling, I suggest you play along like a good girl. Or I promise you, my punishments won’t be as kind as what you’ve experienced before.”

“What is it that you want?” You ask, already fearing his answer. He has you trapped in a gilded cage with him, where one misstep will send you plummeting to meet your end. Nothing that comes accompanied by such threats can be palatable.

“At work? To keep the status quo, I’ll remain your secretary, only so I can keep a better hold on you.”

“Hoseok won’t agree to that. He already thinks I should ditch you. I should have listened to him.”

“Then you will make him agree or he might have an accident, much like your accountant did. He too thought we were too close, even threatened to say something. Don’t worry I saved us from him, just as I’ll save us from Hoseok if you can’t convince him to back off. Do you think you can get him to agree now?”

You give a solemn nod, with Hoseok on the line you have no choice.

“After hours, we’ll drop the middleman.” Jimin lowers himself further on to you, laying down on top, his weight flattening you to the floor. With his head coming to rest on your restrained arm as he whispers further plans. “Every night you’ll come to me instead, and every morning you’ll have a new gift to wear. When we step off this elevator you’ll act as if nothing is wrong. You will go about business as usual, is that clear babygirl?”

You stifle a sob staring directly up and away from his eyes, not daring to give him the satisfaction of your fear. With little else to cling to, all you can do is agree for the time being, as much as it pains you, you choke out your compliance. “Yes...”

“Yes what?” Jimin purrs, his lips faintly touching your ear. “Address me properly, or I will find ways to discipline you right here on this lift.” His fingers tighten and nails bite into your skin.

“Yes sir,” you whine as a plea for him to stop.

Jimin mercifully lessens his hold on your wrists, hitting you instead with a smirk and befouled praise. “Good girl. I knew you’d finally see that I’m worth the risk.”

...

4K notes · View notes

writingwithcolor · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! My main character is a Korean girl who will be away from her family over Korean New Year. How would she celebrate this holiday when she's not able to be around family? Has anyone had any experience of this when you were away at school/college for the holiday? Or is it a holiday that absolutely necessitates going home and being around family? Thanks in advance :)

Celebrating Korean New Year with no family around

Oh, this is a great question. This isn’t an uncommon experience, and it’s only become more likely because of the pandemic.

National Holidays in general

Seol (Korean New Year) and Chuseok (Korean Harvest) are the National Holidays in Korea; they’re the only holidays where we are guaranteed at least three consecutive days off - the day itself, the day before, and the day after. If any of the days coincide with the weekend, then the government also compensates for it with the same number of additional days off. This is at least in part to make sure that people whose families live far apart get at least one day to travel to their families, a day to relax and enjoy, and a day to get back home. Because of this, most people do manage to see their family for Seol and Chuseok.

I’ve seen plenty of college students who just decide to study or do part-time work instead, and this goes the same for working adults. More women might choose to not go home, because Confusianist expectations mean women are far more likely to be put to work with cooking traditional dishes and whatnot, especially if they’re married.

Seol (Korean New Year)

Now, what do Koreans do on Seol?

Four things come to mind immediately:

we eat tteokguk

have charye

give sebae

play yut

Between these, charye and sebae are impossible to do without your family, but I’ll mention them anyways.

1) Charye

I’ll keep charye brief because this is also done on Chuseok, so this doesn’t quite define Seol the way Sebae does. Charye is the most commonly performed memorial ceremony for our deceased ancestors, up to and including your own parents and your spouse if they’ve died. The actual ceremony varies by region and family, but most usually include setting up a ceremonial table with a selection of food according to both tradition and the deceased’s personal preferences, lighting up incense, and pouring spirits. Once the ceremony is done, the prepared food is eaten by the participants, and many families often tell stories of what the deceased were like in life.

Because charye has its roots in both Confucianism and ancestor worship, both of which are losing influence in the modern day, there is a growing number of families who choose to skip or simplify the ceremony, and the food is more often bought or replaced with mockups. A lot of Christian families also don’t perform charye as they feel it’s too close to idolatry.

2) Sebae

Sebae is when people give deep, formal bows to the elders in their family, and by bow, I mean something like the picture below. The hanbok (traditional Korean clothes) isn’t necessary, and most teens and above skip wearing it, but parents love to dress up younger children if they can afford it.

Image of two people bowing, wearing traditional Korean clothing

When you bow, you usually say “Saehae bok mani baduseyo (새해 복 많이 받으세요)” which means “Have lots of luck/good fortune in this new year!” In response, the one who receives the sebae gives deokdam (words of blessing), and in case of minors, some pocket money as well. This is called sebae money and is usually given via a white envelope (it can be other colors too, but red is characteristic of China, not Korea). As sebae is given to all the elder generation of the family (grandparents, parents, aunts and uncles, etc.) children can usually receive quite the tidy sum in return, which is why it’s the favorite holiday of many children. But even if you aren’t a minor, you still give sebae to the older generation and receive deokdam.

While your Korean character might not be able to do sebae in person, it’s highly likely she will at least call or maybe video call her parents to do a sebae, or at least say the traditional greeting and receive deokdam.

3) Tteokguk

Now, if there is one tradition your Korean girl is likely to keep, it’s preparing and eating tteokguk. Tteokguk, also known as rice cake soup, is easy enough to make and eat by yourself. While there’s a great variation of recipes, the basics is adding slices of rice cake into meat broth, then add what you like and looks good. There’s an old saying in Korea that you don’t grow another year older until you’ve had a bowl of tteokguk. This usually leads to children eating more than one bowl while those in their late twenties to early thirties tend to joke about not eating it to stay young.

4) Playing yut

Playing yut might be something your character may or may not do, depending on whether she has the yuts lying around. A game of yut is played with a board and four yuts, which are uneven sticks that serve the roll of dice, depending on how many of them fall face upwards. It’s a traditional Korean game that has been around since before the 10th century at least and probably well before that. It’s almost always played around Seol because it has its roots in wishing that the new year will bring with it a bountiful harvest. Your character may not know that last bit, though, just that it’s usually played around Seol. Your character could convince some of her friends to play yut with her, as the rules are easy and the game is near addictive if I say so myself.

I hope this gives you some ideas for what your Korean character might do!

- Mod Rune

WWC Follower Additions

@phen0l said:Speaking specifically to celebrating New Year away from home (e.g. at college): in my experience, people who can’t go home to their families will get together with their friends and do it instead. I’m Chinese and my best friend is Korean - in our school years we’d celebrate Lunar New Year together and combine respective practices. When we were very young, she’d come over to mine and my parents would even give her New Year money.

So maybe anon can consider whether their character has any friends that would be down for celebrating with them!

@sylvrn said:My family doesn’t really celebrate holidays as intensely, but we still eat 떡국 because it’s food and it’s chill. We did do everything else at a relative’s house in a big family gathering when we lived in Korea but in Canada we don’t do much except for a happy new years phone call to our grandma and sometimes our uncle :)

#redshoesdancingblues #Korean #Holidays #Culture #Korean woman #Family #language #tradition #Asks

832 notes · View notes

prose-for-hire · 3 years ago

Text

Shared Affection

Pairing: Willow x fem!reader; Xander x fem!reader [Bi reader !!]

Request: Hey! can you please write a Willow/Xander x fem reader story where they both have crushes on the reader and they're trying to figure out if she likes boys or girls only to find out shes bi?

Requested by: Anon

A/N: I feel like I’m still a little rusty but I did like writing a little something for this request !! Hope it’s what you wanted and I’m sorry about the wait 💖

You were a new transfer to UC Sunnydale. You could sense that you were on a Hellmouth as soon as you set foot in this new place you would call home. You could sense things, energies and what some may call magic. It just hadn’t occurred to you that this was any different to how other people felt and experienced the world. This would all change, however, once you met who would be your new group of friends. They would show you new possibilities as well as showing you just how powerful you truly are.

You met Buffy in a class you had both taken and subsequently bonded over how much you regretted it. From that first day you both vowed to help each other get through the year. It was as if you just clicked, she was an instant best friend, you could feel it. She then introduced you to her other friends, Willow, Anya and Xander. The latter didn’t actually go to college but he would sneak onto the campus so often and he was good company so you were pleased at this. You got on with everyone so well, it was clear that they had become fond of you almost instantly. Some, more than others.

Over the next five months, Xander and Willow had found themselves adoring you. Neither realising that the other held feelings for you. Xander and you both loved films. You would watch them together all of the time and it became a weekly tradition. You would either go to his basement or he would spend time in your dorm. Sometimes you would forget that the film was on and laugh until you cried at the comments he would make. He was so funny and you couldn’t help but feel so comfortable in his presence.

Willow and you spent time together, she had shown you some small spells for you to practice and you described to her the energy you felt especially now you were in Sunnydale. You could spend hours through the night, just talking. Laughing and sharing your deepest thoughts. She was so sweet to you and you really valued all of the time she spent with you.

Both of them had made you feel so welcome and you enjoyed the attention you had been getting more and more of from them both. You couldn’t lie and say you didn’t suspect that one or both of them may have feelings for you. Although, whenever you thought this you berated yourself for assuming more from their friendly natures.

You couldn’t help loving them, they were so kind and they both looked after you in their own ways. Willow and her magic, Xander and his courage. They were truly now extremely important people in your life. You were thinking of this as you saw Buffy saving your usual seat in your class.

She smile and got you up to speed on all of the latest news you might have missed since you saw her last night on patrol. She was now your closest friend and you basically told each other everything. She had finished telling you all about Riley and what she had found out after the Gentlemen had finally been taken care of. Although, she suddenly changed the topic with a smile and a glint in her eye. She wouldn’t go into detail although she happened to hint about you having a ‘secret admirer’.

Your mind went to Xander and then to willow in almost the same second. Who you suppose you wished it to be. But then, would you want to choose between them? Hurt one at the expense of the other? Would you even be able to choose? Or could you share them both, forget about monogamy, or would that put a strain on their friendship?

Stop. You had to halt all of the scenarios spinning around your head. It was possible it was nobody in your new little friendship group. Perhaps it was a pretty demon that Anya used to know from the olden days that had seen you from afar.

Willow and Xander were sat in the college canteen while you and Buffy were finishing your lecture. Xander had slid in with a group of guys that had finished a game of football so that nobody would question him. They sat and talked for a little but both of their minds had been on you. On their feelings for you. Neither knew that they had never felt this strongly for another person before. They just didn’t know how you could take it.

Willow had been thinking though. She had told Buffy she was gay. She had finally done it. She was a lesbian. She liked girls and only wanted to date girls now. Specifically, you. God, she adored you. Buffy had been surprised at her coming out but after a few months found herself being Will’s biggest supporter. It was easier to accept as Buffy already knew about your sexuality. You had always been open with her about being bi, you just hadn’t gotten around to telling anyone else.

“So, what do you think?” she asked after her usual rambling as she tried to broach the subject with Xander. She needed to see what he would say. She had realised instead that he had zoned out. His eyes watching for someone who was supposed to be here soon.

“Hm?”

“About y/n. I was thinking of asking her out-”

“You can’t!” Xander said, his voice had gone high-pitched at the suggestion. He then coughed and deepened his voice more than he would usually speak it to compensate, “…She’s not gay, Will”

“You don’t know! What are you th-the king of gay people now?”

“No!” Xander said quickly but his heart wasn’t really in their conversation. All he could ever do now was think of you. There was a pause for a while as both of them thought of the other, knowing now that they both felt the same for you. Then they thought of you. Of how close you had become. How kind and affectionate you could be with them. You cared for each of them but neither of them could help but wish for more. Xander suddenly spoke up again, still staring into the distance, “I know, of course I know. Do you, uh, really think… you know?”

“Sometimes she looks at me and I forget to do the breath-y thing” Willow admitted, now rubbing her hands together in her anxiety.

“Well, yeah she does. She’s- Y/n!” He suddenly said, his voice announcing you as he saw you walk towards them. You smiled and waved a little as you weaved between the tables to get to your friends.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she’s-” Willow replied, not realising you had been standing behind

“Hey, Y/n! Our Y/n, uh, Y/n our friend!” Xander said a little more urgently, over whatever Willow had been trying to say about your sexuality.

You smile and slide into a seat beside them. Both of them made you so comfortable to be around, you had this sense of home around both of them.

“Buffy caught up to Riley in the corridor, so it’s just me today,”

“That’s good!” Willow said, “Well, n-not good that she isn’t here but good that you are and that they have time together”

“Yeah, I think they’ll be okay. I hope so anyway, he could be good for Buffy right? I don’t know much about Angel but she looks so sad every time someone talks about him”

Willow nodded but Xander wasn’t quite listening. He was trying to think of a way to subtly change the subject from Buffy’s love life to yours. He ended up throwing subtlety out of the window an blurt it out.

“So, Y/n, how would you describe your type. What would your ideal man-”

“O-or woman! Or anybody else!”

“Oh, uh, well I’m not sure I have one type. I fall for people for more than their looks I guess. It just depends on the person!” You smiled but faltered slightly as their brows furrowed at your answer. It wasn’t specific enough for them to gauge who you might be interested in.

However, Willow loved your answer, as did Xander. He was usually a little insecure that he wasn’t the best looking guy or that he made too many jokes to be taken seriously by anyone. But of course, with you, it was different. You could sense goodness from them. You could sense love and promise and potential and you adored spending time with them so much.

But you could feel there was a slight tension. As if they were competing where usually they wouldn’t. Or that they were in some kind of unresolved discussion.

“Why do you ask?”

“Curiosity! We are, um, curious cats”

“If for example, Willow asked you on a date and uh, for the sake of this totally hypothetical situation, I also asked you out too – who would you pick?”

“Well, I think that I would be happy with either of you” You shrugged. And their mouths both widened in surprise at the same time. Neither of them had even considered you might like men and women. Even after you said this as you had to elaborate, “I’m bisexual”

They smiled at you, somewhat satisfied with this answer and both hugged you tightly at you admittance. You couldn’t help grinning so wide at their warmth. Then they caught each other’s eye and saw that they mirrored each other’s expression. That they saw that they had a chance with you. At your love. As you got up and excused yourself that you had to get to another class, there was a silent agreement. Both of them were set on competing for your attention. Especially now that they knew they definitely could have a chance to be by your side.

You weren’t really sure what to make of their question, you told yourself not to think too much into it. Just in case your mind began to spit out unrealistic scenarios that would disappoint you. You left them, not aware that they were both intently watching you leave. Your form dancing away from them in that way that they loved. Their eyes never left you and their thoughts lingered even longer.

One day, you would probably have to make some kind of decision. For now, you were just pleased that they accepted you for who you were. That you couldn’t sense even the smallest change in their fondness for you when you told them. For now, you could enjoy their love, whether platonic or otherwise and keep spending as much free time as you could with them.

#Willow rosenberg x reader #xander harris x reader #xander harris #willow rosenberg #willow x reader #xander x reader #willow rosenberg imagine #xander harris imagine #willow rosenberg x you #xander harris x you #btvs #btvs x reader #btvs imagine #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines

81 notes · View notes

tiredb0igivemesugars · 4 years ago

Text

The struggles that come with being a Stark

Summary: Y/n has been very down lately and feels completely alone even if the tower is buzzing with Avengers every day. On one particular morning y/n is forced to come out of his room and he heads down to his father’s lab, y/n feels very ignored and storms out crying. Peter goes after y/n and gets him to open up. Can something deemed “broken” be fixed?

Words: 2.4k

⚠️Warnings:⚠️ Mentions of depression and suicidal thoughts, some light swear words

Pairing: Tony Stark!dad and reader!son

Note: the timeline is all funky to my understanding but please just roll with it... again

It had been good for a while, really good, but in the back of your mind, you knew it was only a matter of time until things got bad again.

And eventually, they did. Like always

It started with the little things. When you didn’t have the energy to put the freshly washed clothes you thought nothing of it. It started with feeling the need to sleep all the time, you tried to blame it on stress, not wanting to admit how bad things truly were.

Getting up in the morning was harder, showering was suddenly too time-consuming. Before you had the time to realise what was truly going on, you were laying in your own filth. Surrounded by stuff you couldn’t remember ever bringing into your room, the blinds were closed. Sometimes you opened the one closest to your bed, it was nice to watch the outside world from time to time. You saw how your friends ran and played outside, ever since Peter joined the Avengers it was like they just got more and more childish, but it was nice. All of the Avengers had rough lives and seeing them so happy made you feel a sense of relief. This was all Peter’s doing, he was keeping the atmosphere good, it didn’t necessarily matter if you weren’t there, they’d be fine.

That’s what you told yourself, ending it all wasn’t something you necessarily thought about, but it was a game in your head. A fantasy really, a game you noticed yourself playing more often than not. The game kept you busy, sometimes for an entire day.

But there were days when the game wasn’t as fun, on those days you went outside of your room, you tried to do it so that no one would see you, sometimes you’d run into Steve or even to your dad, but not often. Your dad, Tony, made jokes of how you had ”emerged from your cave” and if you were too unfortunate enough to walk out of your room when a lot of them were in the kitchen or in the living room, you’d get an ”oh how nice of you to join us”. You knew that he didn’t do that to hurt you, but it ended up doing exactly that. His words stung, they haunted you even when you were alone, like an echo in your head.

You woke up when the sun hit your eyes, you had forgotten to close the blinds, again. ”Jarvis, close the blinds,” you said, voice groggy. No answer. ”Jarvis?” You asked again, receiving no answer. You groaned as you realised that you had to go down to your dad’s workshop, to tell your dad that Jarvis wasn’t working in your room. You sat up on your bed, feeling hazy. You slowly stood up to walk towards the elevator.

Your dad was working with Peter in his workshop. ”Dad?” You called out from the door, no answer. ”Dad?” You tried again, louder this time. Peter noticed you as you stood by the door. ”Mr Stark,” Peter said, immediately catching your dad’s attention. Peter pointed in your direction. ”Oh, what’s up?” Tony asked, quickly looking at you before turning back to his work. It frustrated you to see your dad ignoring you in such an obvious matter, it annoyed you that he didn’t hear you but he heard Peter.

Frustration turned into sadness as tears prickled by your waterline, you tried to blink them away as you cleared your throat, catching your dad’s attention. ”What is it?” He asked, sounding annoyed in your opinion. ”Nothing, just that J-Jarvis isn’t working in my room,” you said as you walked away. You didn’t want your dad or Peter to see when you cried. ”What’s up with y/n?” You heard Peter’s voice ask as you walked away from your father and him. ”I don’t know, maybe y/n’s feeling a little upset,” you heard your father say, clearly trying to say it in a way so that you wouldn’t hear. ”Should someone check up on y/n then?” You heard Peter ask. You didn’t hear what your father said due to the fact that the elevator doors had closed.

As the doors closed, your tears began travelling down. You weren’t jealous of Peter, you couldn’t be, he brought so much happiness to everyone. It kind of pissed you off how smart he was, you had your fair share of skills which your dad used to take interest in, he tried to get you interested in anything that might involve your skills, thus making you develop. But since Peter came along, it was all about him, it was good that your dad had someone to share things with, since you weren’t really interested in his field, but it still hurt to not get even nearly as much attention from him as you used to.

You weren’t really feeling your nest today, just in case your dad came by to fix Jarvis, which you highly doubted, you wanted to be somewhere else. Maybe the vents, there you could spy on people, you used to love being in there as a child, but abandoned that when you turned older.

You climbed inside the vent and were surprised by how spacious it still was, even for a young adult like you. You had no idea which way you should go but decided to follow the noise that reached the vent, Natasha and Steve in the training area. They were fighting each other while having a rather loud conversation. ”I don’t know what’s wrong with y/n, but I also don’t think that it’s okay for Tony to just ignore it all. He’s not doing anything to make y/n feel better,” Natasha said as he swung Steve’s legs from under him. Steve’s back hit the ground, getting his air lightly knocked out. ”But young people get sad all the time, why should he jump at y/n’s every whim?” Steve asked as he slowly got up from the floor. ”Y/n isn’t just sad, something is wrong and we should help,” Natasha said and kicked Steve in the chest. Steve grabbed her leg and sent her flying across the room.

You didn’t bother listening to their conversation anymore, was everybody suddenly talking about you? Why was suddenly everyone on your case? Why did they care?

”Hey y/n,” you suddenly heard from behind you, making you yelp loudly. ”Hey sorry it’s just me,” Peter apologised. You fell against the wall of the vent but decided to stay there in a sitting position. ”What are you doing here?” You finally asked after calming down a bit. ”I came to check up on you, you seemed a bit off,” Peter explained. You groaned loudly, ”Why is everyone talking about me today!” You complained.

Peter settled to sit next to you, but still giving you space.

”Everyone is just worried, you look sad and we barely even see you anymore. You’re hard to even recognise nowadays.” Peter said, stealing glances at you. You groaned slightly, trying to decide how to possibly end the conversation.

”I do realise that I might be the last person you want to talk to, yet I’d beg to argue that I’m the one to understand you the best.” Peter was right, and you hated it. You banged your head against the wall of the vent in frustration, ”I hate that you’re right.” You finally admitted. You took a deep breath before opening your mouth, might as well. ”I don’t know, it started out small. I was a child and some bad stuff was going down and I really didn’t know how to deal, people are more likely to notice a depressed child than a depressed young adult I guess.” ”Dad got me some help. Talked to a real nice lady, gave me blocks to play with and all. Yeah well anyway, I thought I was better. A lot of years went by that I was completely okay, until recently.” You explained as you pulled on any loose cuticle or nail you could find on your fingers. ”It just crept up all of a sudden, I didn’t have the energy to fold my laundry or make my bed. And then I just started sleeping a lot, like a lot. And before you know it, I’m awake at three in the morning, on the roof, and I’m looking at an at least 20 story drop. And I have no idea what the hell I’m doing there.”

It felt like some weight was coming off of your shoulders, you silently shook, eyes getting a little teary - that was good, right? "And then there's the fact that I'm a Stark. I'm Tony Stark's son and expectations are laid on me every day, if not by him then the world. I don't know if I have what it takes. I mean, I am smart but I'll never be able to fill his shoes." You continued, drawing the curtain open a bit more.

”Did you ever think about telling Mr Stark?” Peter asked, curious.

”Well I mean, at first I didn’t even notice anything that alarming, and when I finally did notice, it felt like it was too late, you know? Like how would I even bring that up? Hey, dad, I kind of want to jump off of a building because I’m sad!” You said, the last part overly cheery to compensate the tears that currently were cascading down your cheeks.

Peter moved a little closer to you, ”You know, it’s never too late, Mr Stark loves you very dearly and he wants to help you.” When you didn’t answer Peter he took the chance to do his own monologue. ”You know, he never shuts up about you. To him, you’re his most successful invention, he always talks about you, never fails to mention your achievements, no matter how small. You’re the best son Mr Stark could have. He’s genuinely so proud of you and he loves you more than anything, it breaks him to see you like this because he’s so lost he doesn’t know what to do to help you.”

After that Peter let the silence sizzle in the air, he waited for you to say something. You needed a moment, what Peter said opened your eyes, you had never thought that your dad even could be proud of you and to hear that he was the proudest of you and he loved you that much just put things into perspective.

”To be completely honest, I was kind of jealous of you and the bond you have with my dad.” You admitted when you felt strong enough to talk again. Peter laughed a little, ”why on earth would you think that?”

”You build stuff together, the two of you as a duo looks like the most normal thing this tower has seen in years. It feels good to know that dad has someone to share his passions with since I’m not all that talented or interested in whatever the hell it is that you two do, yet I sometimes feel jealous. It’s not your fault and you shouldn’t feel bad, it’s just my brain. I’ll get over it.”

”Do you want to go talk to Mr Stark?” Peter asked after a while. The moment was over, but you still wanted to thank him. ”I think I have to. By the way, thank you. Thank you for finding me and talking to me, it really means a lot.” You said and offered Peter a smile, a smile that was for the first time in months, genuine.

Peter returned the smile, ”It was nothing really, you would’ve done the same for me.”

”Mr Stark!” Peter called out once you entered the workshop, the dishevelled head of your precious dad shot up from somewhere admits all of the ”junk”.

”Y/n wants to talk to you!” Peter said before turning to you. ”It’ll be alright,” he reassured you and gave you a thumbs-up as he walked out, giving the two of you some privacy.

”Son! What’s up?” He asked when you approached him. He climbed out of a machine he was building. You took a deep breath as you sat down on something you felt would hold your weight. You felt your dad’s burning gaze, yet, you decided to not return it. You stared at your shaking hands as you slowly began. ”D-dad, I think I need help.” Silence. ”I don’t know, I’ve been feeling pretty bad lately and I feel like I should talk to someone about it.”

You heard your dad pull out something with wheels on it, he seemed to sit on it and roll towards you. His feet quickly came into your view. His hands slowly grabbed yours. ”Look at me,” he said, his voice shook just the tiniest amount. You slowly found his eyes and took the sight in. There was no disappointment or anger in his voice, just worry. ”I want to help you, and I will. But I need to know what’s going on.”

You sniffled a little, breaking the eye contact to collect yourself.

”I didn’t even notice it at first. I just didn’t have the energy to do the everyday things, I was exhausted all of the time. The next thing you know I’m having a staring contest with the concrete from the roof in the middle of the night. I don't even know why. I guess I'm just not happy anymore. It's not that my life sucks or something like that. I'm a Stark, people expect things and I don't know if I can amount to that greatness. I'm not like you, I'll never be." You said, trailing off at the end.

"Y/n, I'll never want you to be like me. You are perfect just the way you are, you are my son - best one anyone could ever ask for. I'll always love you and you're the most important thing to me in this whole world. I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you when you needed me the most. I promise I'll get you all the help you need and I promise to never leave your side." Tony said all of those things with ease, his voice shook but there was so much meaning in his voice. It was gentle and loving, like the hug he offered you. You accepted the hug since your dad was the best hugger in the world.

His arms wrapped themselves around your shoulders as you laid your head on his shoulder. "Y/n, I love you 3000, don't you ever forget that." He whispered into your hair.

#marvel #The Avengers #irondad #tony stark x male!reader #peter parker #x male reader #angst #comfort #oneshot #tony stark #iron man #spiderman #captain america #black widow

217 notes · View notes

dreamcatcherjiah · 3 years ago

Text

JAMAIS VU | TEASER 2

Namjoon & A-Young

Kim Moon-Jae - Two years old

He was born in September, just like his dad and Jungkook

Namjoon had wanted to become a dad so bad, he seamlessly welcomed his role and made it look easy, the way he took care of his little boy

Ever since he was a newborn, Namjoon would take him to the studio and put him to sleep in his little Moses basket while he worked

it wasn't long before Joon discovered he liked Mono and he tended to leave his phone next to his song with the playlist playing while he worked on something else

Jungkook dotes on the boy

literally won’t put him down

from the day he was born, JK would just look at him while he slept with his big doe eyes, he sometimes sings to the baby too

Moon-Jae is a very calm baby, even in his terrible twos

he’s happy with just sitting with his toys and looking at his mom while she moves around the house

he started babbling when he was barely six months old

when he said his first word, A-Young was busy with Jimin and Tae’s sons and he screamed EOMMA at the top of his little lungs

we could say he is a bit of a mom and dad boy

he loves laying in Namjoon’s chest while he reads his bedtime story

(most of the time they both fall asleep together and A-Young finds them in the nursery chair knocked out)

He’s the closest in age to Chimae and Sangwoo, but he’s a little jealous that his cousins can do things that he is not allowed because he’s younger

he can drink from a glass, the baby cup is for BABIES

so he just gravitates towards Nabi, Sangwoo’s older sister

Jin & Yura

Kim Yoojin & Kim Yoosun (Twins) - Seven years old

after saying time and time again that they were okay with only one child twins came along

Jin would be lying if he said he wasn't thrilled but it was scary at first

he was the first one of the seven to become a dad, to twins no less, might scare everyone

but when his baby girl Yoojin was born and, ten minutes later, he held his boy Yoosun, he just knew he would do anything for them

they were born in the middle of August, much to Yura’s relief, if she had had to carry them for longer she would have cried

the boys loved how, since it was so hot that summer, Jin had them in their crib in diapers

Yoongi adored looking at them cuddle together and caress their little arms and tummies

he loved their smooth baby skin

as they grew up, Yoosun became a really bright bean, a people’s little person while his sister became more like her mom, calm and with very intelligent eyes

they both love their parents equally but each one gravitates towards either Jin (Yoojin) or Yura (Yoosun)

since they’re the oldest of the bangtan babies, they like to take care of their small cousins

in their seven years of life, they have spent a total of a week apart and they don't want to try that again

like EVER

NEVER EVER AGAIN

Yoongi & Hyejin

Min Ara - Six months old

Yoongi and Hyejin waited a few years to try for a baby after they got married

then baby Are came along

when they told the boys and their families they were pregnant a lot of people cried

they had seen how deeply Yoongi loved all his nephews and nieces, how his face filled with adoration when he held them

they respected his and Hyejin’s wish to wait to start a family, but everyone wanted him to become a father deep down

Ara was born in January and his uncles Jimin, Hoseok and Namjoon, who only had boys, bought her the pinkiest fluffiest coats they could find

for a couple of months, the baby looked like she was drowning in pink furs

now that she’s six months old, she sleeps through the night and she is just at that age where she doesn't understand when she has a sleepover with her cousins

Jin absolutely adores Ara

after his little-not-so-little Yoojin, Ara is the apple of his eye, and it is strange the day he doesn't visit Genius Lab too see his little niece

either that or he calls Hyejin non-stop when they have a schedule to coo at the baby

you would think Namjoon is not allowed to hold the baby, but nothing further from the truth

Yoongi trust him with his life when it comes to his daughter

the first time she smiled, Joon was holding her to his chest and moving her little hand to say hi to her dad

Yoongi cried a little that day

Hoseok & Haneul

Jung Hyuk-Jae - Four years old

are we even surprised this boy is the happiest little boy on earth

he was born in November, a year after his parents got married

he was the first boy to be born after Yoosun and his cousin was so happy to finally be a hyung

his eyes were always open, inquisitive and taking everything in the world in

his mom loved strapping him to her chest and dance around the house while the two were alone, the baby moving his little legs and waving his little fists around

Hoseok would return home most days to a similar picture, feeling energised after a long day only by looking at them

Hyuk-Jae can't fall asleep without his parents caressing his chest and arms

(are we reminded of someone else)

when he feels tired, he nests into Hoseok’s chest and caresses his lips with his little finger, that’s how his dad knows he’s ready for bed

he loves drawing with his cousins, and loves teaching Moon-Jae all the letters that he has learnt in kindergarten

when he grows up he wants Uncle Yoongi to show him how to make music and become a rapper just like his dad

when he comes from kinder, he doesn't let go of his mom for a little while, needing to spend a little quiet time so he’s ready to play with his dad when he comes home

Jimin & Kae-Hwa

Park Chimae - Three years old

Chimae was born two weeks before Sangwoo, Tae’s son, in May

their wives tease them constantly about this, asking if they were so sneaky they planned to have children at the same time so they could be vmin 2.0

they deny it (even if they were so happy when they told each other they were having babies at the same time oooops)

Chimae is the sweetest little boy

he is just like his dad, all fluffy cheeks, smily eyes and the happiest giggle in the world

even if him and Sangwoo are not blood brothers, Jin likes to tease their fathers telling them that the babies are even closer than his twins

good luck separating them, boys

Chim ADORES his parents and his uncle Joon, always gravitating to them in a loud room, seeking comfort and warmth to cuddle

oh yeah, he’s a cuddle bug, doing that little thing, rubbing his cheek against his uncle Joon’s chest and nesting against him

he loves falling asleep between his mom and dad, holding one of their fingers in each tiny fist and feeling them close

his mom loves to buy diminutive versions of Jimin’s outfits to have Chim dress like him

they would both enter the studio hand in hand, sporting identical Chanel jumpers, jeans and Gucci sunglasses and no one would bat an eyelid

the poor thing has two left feet, but that doesn't stop him copying his dad’s moves to the best of his abilities

Taehyung & Iseul

Kim Nabi - Five years old

now, when Tae said he wanted a big family he wasn't joking

he and his wife were pregnant within a month of their wedding

Nabi was born in February, a few days after her uncle Hobi, which guaranteed huge birthday parties when she got old enough

she wanted a princesses-themed birthday party, uncle Hobi got her the dresses and was the first one there, dressed as Elsa from Frozen

she was a fussy baby, which didn't sit well with her mom, but her dad was there at all times

his insomnia actually got better once he matched his sleeping schedule with his baby’s

in a good night she would wake up maybe a couple of times, and there was Tae, bottle at the ready, singing lullabies for his little girl in his deep voice

in a bad night, well, let’s just say Tae was used to functioning on little to no sleep

even if she is the closest with Yoojin, her best friend is her cousin Nari

she insists it was fate (not her mom’s intentional choosing) that their names match so well

she has always had a soft spot for Moon-Jae and you can often find them both playing together when Chimae and Sangwoo run off somewhere to stir trouble

Kim Sangwoo - Three years old

two years after Nabi was born, just when she was starting to pick up a normal sleeping schedule, Iseul found out she was pregnant with Sangwoo

she was expecting another difficult baby and she couldn't be happier to have been wrong (at the beginning, lol)

he was quiet and happy

he loved just lying there between his sister and Chimae, babbling away

The two boys seemed stuck at the hip, if you so much as lifted one to change his diaper, the other would scream his little lungs out

then he started crawling and OH BOY

he found out that he could see Chimae from his dad phone in the screen so he started sneakily trying to find it to call his best friend... he was only eighteen months old

where Chimae was calm, Sangwoo compensated being an active little firecracker

if you wanted to know where the two were, you just had to wait until Chimae pulled your jean leg because he thought Sangwoo was doing something dangerous

most times those dangerous things were stealing cookies from the kitchen cabinet, but our Chimae here is an innocent little angel

Jungkook & Mi-Hi

Jeon Jina - newborn

Jungkook and Mi-Hi were still young when they got married, so it made sense to wait

besides, if an occasional burst of baby fever struck, either one of them could just call any of the other parents and offer to babysit

it stayed like that for almost six years, both Kookie and Mi-Hi being the fun aunt and uncle who bought the children candy, took them on fun rides to the park or to the beach

they were each child’s first time on Disneyland

well, it lasted until Namjoon and A-Young had Moon-Jae

Jungkook went mental for the child, he wouldn't know how to explain what went through him, but he just couldn't put the baby down

he loved all his nieces and nephews equally, but just looking at his hyung’s baby moon...

he would come home only talking about babies, showing Mi-Hi the countless pictures he had taken of Moon-Jae

she would sense that characteristic baby smell in his clothes when she hugged him

it reached a point when both of them sat down and admitted to each other how badly they wanted to start a family

it took them a while, but after nearly a year and a half, they were happily announcing they were expecting a little girl

Jina, being the youngest of the family, has everyone wrapped around her little finger

it would be difficult to tell which of her uncles is more whipped for her, Hoseok going so far as to admitting to JK that after spending so much time with the little girl, he wanted to talk to Haneul about trying for a girl

it is still way too soon to tell who she takes after, but what’s for sure is that she got her dad’s doe eyes

Permanent taglist: @preciouschimine @forget-me-notforever @annywaa @alpacaparkaseok @bangtan-madi

#castlebangtan #bangtanarmynet #hyunglinenetwork #bangtan dad au #bts dad au #bts headcanons #bts dad headcanons #jamais vu teaser 2 #dreamcatcherjiah #namjoon headcanons #jin headcanons #yoongi headcanons #hoseok headcanons #jimin headcanons #taehyung headcanons #jungkook headcanons

56 notes · View notes

miserablesme · 3 years ago

Text

The Les Miserables Changelog Part 2: 1985-1986 West End

Hello, everyone! This is the latest edition in my attempt to chronicle all of the musical and lyrical changes which the show Les Miserables has undergone over the years. Today, we look at the differences between the later of the two available Barbican preview audios (more on that in Part 1) and the West End variant of the musical as it existed in 1986. Only one rather poor quality audio is available of the show's pre-Broadway, post-Barbican form (though a friend of a friend has multiple masters from the era that she apparently keeps meaning to digitize). It is known to come from 1986, but the exact date remains a mystery. As such we cannot know when exactly most of the changes might have been made.

Reportedly (according to The Complete Book of Les Miserables) the majority of these refinements were made between the closing of the Barbican show and the opening of the West End one. However, some further refinements were doubtless made during the Barbican previews, and some likely were made between the opening of the West End production and whenever the audio was recorded. With all that cleared up, let's get started!

As I mentioned in Part 1, the very early Barbican previews of the opening "Work Song" featured this chain of lyrics (no pun intended):

I’ve done no wrong

Sweet Jesus, hear my prayer

Look down, look down

Sweet Jesus doesn’t care

I killed a man

He tried to steal my wife

Look down, look down

She wasn’t worth your life

I know she’ll wait

I know that she’ll be true

Look down, look down

She’s long forgotten you

As has also been established, later previews removed one sequence of lines to create the following exchange:

I’ve done no wrong

Sweet Jesus, hear my prayer

Look down, look down

Sweet Jesus doesn’t care

I killed a man

He tried to steal my wife

Look down, look down

She wasn’t worth your life

However, by 1986 another sequence was removed and the originally removed one was added back then. Thus, the still-current lyrics as of today are as follows:

I’ve done no wrong

Sweet Jesus, hear my prayer

Look down, look down

Sweet Jesus doesn’t care

I know she’ll wait

I know that she’ll be true

Look down, look down

She’s long forgotten you

A much better choice of cuts in my opinion. The point of the opening scene is to present the prisoners sympathetically, as comparatively innocent victims of an overly brutal and elitist police system. Establishing a member of the chain gang as literally being a murderer doesn't really help send that message!

Everything stays the same until "Fantine's Arrest". The Barbican previews feature this sequence:

(FANTINE)

There's a child who sorely needs me

Please monsieur, she's but that high

Holy God! Is there no mercy?

If I go to jail she'll die

(TOWNSPEOPLE[?])

Take this harlot now this minute

Let there be a full report

Let her go back in the morning

Let her answer to the court

(FANTINE)

Gentle Jesus! Won't you save me?

Are there tears enough to cry?

(JAVERT)

It's the same pathetic story

Please monsieur, my child will die!

I have heard such protestations...

By the 1986 recording, everything between "Take this harlot" and "Please monsieur, my child will die!" has been totally removed. I have a bit of a soft spot for that sequence, though I can't earnestly say the musical lost anything by removing it. Indeed Javert comes across as unbelievably heartless there!

As Part 1 pointed out, the earlier Barbican preview had Valjean shout "You know where to find me!" at the end of "Who Am I?", while the later preview did not. The 1986 recording interestingly reinserts that line, but now Valjean speaks it much more casually, without the slightly cheesy passion of the first recording. This makes me wonder whether or not it was initially removed because it was hard to take seriously, and a calmer rendition was reinstated as a compromise? Who knows.

A subtle change occurs at the beginning of the "Confrontation" sequence. During the Barbican previews, the number opens with a few notes being played and then repeated. However, by the 1986 recording the notes do not repeat. It goes straight into Javert's announcement (which Roger Allam has now learned to sing on time!) after the notes play the first time. The sequence would stay this way for quite awhile before being further shortened - more on that in a later edition!

We now go to the subsequent number, Little Cosette's famous "Castle on a Cloud" song. The Barbican previews give her a few lines before the main number starts (sung in a similar tune to her remarks about Mme. Thenardier's arrival at the end of the song):

They’ll come back any minute

And I’m nowhere near finished

Sweeping and scrubbing and polishing the floor

It’s the same every day, oh please!

Don’t let Madame hit me again

I should be used to it, but then

I know a place where nobody has to work too hard

And where I won’t be lonely again

These lines, taken closely from the original French concept album, don't really add much to the number plot-wise that won't be stated later except for more explicit confirmation that Mme. Thenardier is abusive. Perhaps partly for this reason, by the 1986 recording these lines are removed, and after the opening instrumentals it goes straight into the number we all know.

As I previously mentioned in Part 1, the later recording I have of the Barbican previews cut out the following lines during the preamble to Master of the House. I originally mistakenly claimed that the cuts occured after Thenardier's verse, but in actuality that verse too is removed.

(THENARDIER)

My band of soaks, my den of disollutes

My dirty jokes, my always pissed as newts

My sons of whores spend their lives in my inn

Homing pigeons homing in

They fly through my doors

And their money's good as yours

(CUSTOMERS)

Ain’t got a clue what he put into his stew

Must’ve scraped it off the street

Hell, what a wine

Châteauneuf de Turpentine

Must’ve pressed it with his feet

Landlord over here

Where’s the bloody man

One more for the road

One more slug of gin

Just one more or my old man is gonna do me in

By the 1986 recording, they are back in all their glory. Indeed, as you can read in Part 1 of this series Trevor Nunn himself has confirmed that the crew decided the number didn't work as well without the full preamble (an exception being, shockingly enough, Cameron Mackintosh).

During the Barbican previews, "Master of the House" was followed by a beautiful Well Scene between Valjean and Little Cosette:

(LITTLE COSETTE)

There is a castle on a cloud

I like to go there in my sleep

Aren’t any floors for me to sweep

(A FEW SECONDS OF INSTRUMENTALS)

(VALJEAN)

Don’t be afraid of me, my dear

Tell me your name and have no fear

How cold it grows when the sun has set

(LITTLE COSETTE)

I’m not afraid

Monsieur, my name’s Cosette

(VALJEAN)

Nor will you be afraid again

I come to take you from this place

There is a better world, you’ll see

(LITTLE COSETTE)

Give me your hand, and walk with me.

This leads into the humming duet between Valjean and Cosette. However, in what I consider the biggest mistake of this era's adjustments, the Well Scene was totally excised from the West End version and "Master of the House" is following directly by the humming duet. Trevor Nunn remarked a degree of regret about this in 1990's The Complete Book of Les Miserables. I don't have the book on hand right now, but I'll put down the exact quote later.

Of course, the Well Scene would later return in a much different form, but let's not get ahead of ourselves.

Perhaps to compensate for the deleted scene, another scene is added after the "Waltz of Treachery" number. During the Barbican previews, Valjean's "It won't take you too long to forget" is followed by a lot of vamping and eventually a reprise of Valjean and Cosette's humming duet. The West End production slightly reduces the vamping from about one minute to about forty-five seconds, and adds a scene (sung in the tune of "Castle on a Cloud", specifically the "there is a lady all in white" part at first and the main chorus for "Nor will you be afraid again" onwards):

(LITTLE COSETTE)

We're going home right now, monsieur

What is your name

(VALJEAN)

Now my dear

I've names enough, I've got names to spare

But where I go, you always will be there

Nor will you be afraid again

There is a sun that's shining yet

(LITTLE COSETTE)

I'm going to call you my Papa

(VALJEAN)

I'm going to call you my Cosette

The normal humming duet follows. This is a fascinating scene which seems to be exclusive to the brief era after the Barbican previews but before Broadway. It's interesting how it incorporates elements both of the opening Well Scene and of the more well-known later closing scene to the "Waltz of Treachery". It's also intriguing how it incorporates elements not really touched upon this directly in any other version of the musical, specifically just how mysterious and secretive Valjean is to the world in general as well as the fact that Cosette, in fact, is not truly Cosette's given name.

Everything seems to be the same from this point until "The Attack on Rue Plumet". In the Barbican previews, this is how the opening goes:

(EPONINE)

'Parnasse, what are you doing

So far out of our patch?

(MONTPARNASSE)

This house, we're gonna do it!

Rich man, plenty of scratch

You remember he's the bloke wot got away the other day

Got a number on his chest, perhaps a fortune put away

Took off like a guilty man, why would he want to disappear?

Now we're gonna do him right, this time no one will interfere

Everything from "Took off like a guilty man" onwards is removed from the West End version. Later in the number, we hear approximately the following exchange in the Barbican show. Fans have debated what exactly some of the lyrics are, but this is how I hear them:

(CLAQUESOUS)

What a palaver, what an absolute treat

To watch a cat and his father pick a bone in the street

(THENARDIER)

Not a sound out of you

(EPONINE)

What do you care if things scare me

(THENARDIER)

Listen 'Ponine, there might be jewels inside

There could be something for all

There could be bruises enough

You will have your share

(EPONINE)

Well I told you I'd do it, I told you I'd do it

The West End production reduces the vamping prior to this scene. Additionally, everything between "What do you care" and "You will have your share" is removed, meaning the "I told you I'd do it" is a direct remark to "Not a sound out of you". This is a much more linear and succinct way of moving the plot in my humble opinion!

That's it for act one! Act two begins largely the same, up until the scene where Gavroche reveals Javert to be a traitor. First off, Javert's original claim that they will "play their games" is changed to "spoil their games".

Next is probably this version's biggest change in the entire musical up to this point. Originally Gavroche sung approximately the following lines (once again, the recordings aren't as clear as would be desirable) in a unique tune heard nowhere else in the musical:

Good evening, dear inspector, lovely evening my dear!

A charlie for a copper who pays a call

I know who you’re supposed to be, Inspector Javert

Who never showed no mercy to no one at all

So don’t believe a word, none of it will wash

This time you’re reckoned without Gavroche!

The West End version scrapped this sequence and replaced it with "Little People" (which originally appeared in a much longer form later in the musical). This is how it went:

Good evening dear inspector, lovely evening my dear

I know this man, my friends, his name's Inspector Javert

So don't believe a word he says 'cause none of it's true

It only goes to show what little people can do

And little people know, when little people fight

We may look easy picking but we've got some bite

So never kick a dog because he's just a pup

You'd better run for cover when the pup grows up!

This edited placement of "Little People" is often attributed to the original Broadway production, but in fact it made its debut in the West End show. I'm not sure when exactly this was, given that the original cast album uses the long version. However, by the 1986 recording this is how it goes. It should be noted that it's not quite in its Broadway form, however; most notably, "We'll fight like twenty armies and we won't give up!" is not present.

A minor difference occurs during the First Attack sequence. In the Barbican production, this is how the students respond to their victory:

(GRANTAIRE)

By God, we've won the day

(LESGLES)

See how they run away

The West End production swaps the two students' lines, allowing Grantaire's slightly incredulous spirit to have a more poignant and/or amusing effect depending on your perspective.

Consequently given the new placement of the song, the show obviously had to be edited to remove the original "Little People" number. Originally, this is the way the show transitioned between the First Attack and "Little People":

(ENJOLRAS)

Courfeyrac, you take the watch

They won't attack until it's light

Everybody stay awake

We must be ready for the fight

For the final fight

Let no one sleep tonight

(GRANTAIRE)

Only little boys may sleep

For little people need their rest

Little tucks are quickly drained

And little grapes are quickly pressed

Come on little mite

It's time to say goodnight

Cue the original "Little People" number in all of its long, silly glory (in case you somehow don't know it, here are the lyrics). The West End production (and everything afterwards) cuts Grantaire's verse, so that the scene transitions straight from Enjolras' announcement to "Drink with Me". As much as I love the full-length "Little People" number (and I really do love it), I admit removing it was definitely the right choice. It's just so sweet and optimistic, it feels out of place in a musical as tragic and cynical as Les Miserables. It doesn't help that its placement is between a high-stakes action scene and a somber, slightly drunk reflection on the nature of friendships, sex, and romance. It's a wonderful song but a terrible Les Mis song. I do love it, though, and I also love how Grantaire manages to make his pre-song metaphors alcohol-related.

In the sewers, the Barbican recordings feature a unique tune not heard anywhere elsewhere in the musical (it can be heard here) before transitioning to the final Valjean-Javert confrontation. Apparently, this music was accompanied by a short chase scene. However, by the time of the 1986 recording there is instead what is essentially one repeated note which then transitions into an instrumental version of "Look Down". This is followed by the same Valjean-Javert confrontation as before.

And that just about sums this part up! If I missed anything feel free to let me know, as my goal is to create a changelog as thorough and complete as possible. I plan on making more parts in the near future covering all the changes that have been made in the show up until this day (discounting concerts). Any feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated.

As a side note, both for this project and my own enjoyment, I want as complete a collection of Les Miserables audios as possible. I already have most of what’s commonly circulated, but if you have any audios or videos you know are rare, I’d love it if you DMed me!

Until the turntable puts me at the forefront again, good-bye…

#les mierables #les mis #les miz #barbican #west end #changelog #history #1985 #1986 #comparison #the les miserables changelog #changes #theatre #musical #part 2

35 notes · View notes

journalxxx · 3 years ago

Text

By Hook or by Crook (2)

May 1st, 2270

“Hello, Izuku.” “Hi, dad.” Izuku hadn’t exactly been dreading this conversation, but he hadn’t been looking forward to it either. He’d hoped his mom would do all the talking, having to break the news to his friends had been hard enough. For him. Most of them seemed to have gotten quite the kick out of it. “How are you? Your mother told me you’ve been having a rough couple of weeks.” “Mh.” “Still upset over that visit?” “Mh.” “Speak, son. Sulking doesn’t translate well over the phone.” His father chided gently.

Izuku sighed. “The doctor said I’m never going to get a quirk. I’m sorry.” “Whatever for? It’s not like you have any choice in the matter. Quirks are innate, surely you know that.” “Yes, I do.” Izuku said, staring at the paused frame of All Might’s debut video on the computer screen. The reflection of his own miserable face was superimposed with the triumphant silhouette of the hero. “But I’m sorry anyway. You have such a cool quirk… and mom’s useful too. I could become a great hero with one of them, but I’m never going to get any.” “Again, that’s none of your fault. And I wouldn’t be so sure of that anyway.” “Uh?” Izuku gulped, gripping the phone tightly. “Y-you don’t think I’d make a good hero?” “No, that’s not what I mean.” His father chuckled. “I mean that I wouldn’t lose hope just yet. You’re very young, there’s still plenty of time for your quirk to manifest.” “But the doctor said that all quirks appear before one is four years old. And I’m four. And I have the extra toe joint-” “Tsk! Some doctor they assigned you. As if one could unerringly guess the nature and development of something as unpredictable as a quirk with a single test. An x-ray, of all things. Ancient technology.” “The doctor said there was a study...” “I have an extra toe joint too, you know.” Izuku’s father laughed hearing his son’s surprised gasp. “Studies like the one your doctor mentioned draw conclusions based on the analysis of hundreds, thousands of cases. Those conclusions may hold true for the majority of them, but there are always outliers. Having that oh-so-precious joint and a quirk is indeed rare, but not unheard of.” “B-But…” Izuku’s eyes burned with the feeling of impending tears. He hadn’t expected his father’s reaction to be like this. No one had even remotely doubted the validity of the doctor’s opinion. No one. It almost hurt to hope. “I’m also too old…” “My own quirk didn’t show until I was… fifteen? Maybe sixteen. Way older than you are, anyway. Another important point to consider, don’t you think?” Izuku sniffled. Then cried, quietly. His father remained silent as the boy let the tears flow freely, wiping them on his arm now and then. There was a tangled ball of emotions deep in his chest, that he couldn’t quite unravel. After a couple of minutes though, the sobs abated and he felt better. Better than he had been feeling before his mom handed him the phone. “...Do you really think the doctor was wrong?” “You shouldn’t believe everything doctors tell you. My personal physician keeps calling me ‘the peak of biological and anthropological evolution’, but that’s because he’s been fishing for a raise for years. Clearly you’d expect a Darwinian champion to be able to walk under the sun without protection for more than five minutes without turning into a peeling tomato.” “Uh? Does that really happen to you?” “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that I’m albino? My skin is very sensitive to sunlight, and it burns easily. I have atrocious eyesight too.” “I didn’t know that.” Izuku winced in sympathy. “I’m sorry. That sounds terrible.” “Not nearly as much as you think. I have plenty of skills and tools at my disposal to compensate. It isn’t an inconvenience at all these days, although it did cause me some grief when I was a child.” His father’s tone got softer. “Sometimes it does feel like our bodies are our own worst enemies, doesn’t it?” Izuku hummed in assent, very much agreeing with the sentiment. “I’m happy it doesn’t hurt you any more.” “And I’m glad you didn’t inherit this nuisance from me.” A sudden thought made its unwelcome way in Izuku’s head. “If… If I didn’t inherit your skin and eyes… maybe I won’t inherit your quirk either…” “Izuku.” His father’s tone was kind but firm. There were times when his presence, even just through his voice, felt way more real and solid than that of many people Izuku habitually shared a room with. “Your ability will emerge one day, I’m positive of that. Just give it time and don’t agonize over it.” Izuku nodded, even though he realized that wouldn’t translate well over the phone either. “...Okay.” “Now, what else have you been up to in this past month, other than brooding over a criminally incompetent diagnosis?” Not much, honestly, but Izuku told him anyway. As he kept chatting, his heart grew lighter than it had been in weeks. Mom did always say that his father was a good listener.

July 1st, 2272 “They were talking about it on TV yesterday. It’s an old incident from some years ago, before All Might met Nighteye!” “I see...” “Not many people know about it, because there’s no villain involved, and villains make all the stories more interesting! But it’s a great story nonetheless!” Izuku rattled on enthusiastically, taking advantage of his father’s unresponsive compliance. “Uh-huh...” “So this boy was having some big troubles, I think, and he jumped into a river because he didn’t know what to do about them. But luckily All Might was around! Do you know what he did?” “He offered to cover all the expenses for the years of therapy the boy would need afterwards?” “Uh… They didn’t say that on TV. I don’t know. I think he just rescued him from the river.” “That doesn’t seem to address the underlying problem.” His father commented icily. “Daaad, you’re ruining the story.” Izuku chided him. “Anyway, the funny part is that this boy had a quirk that could turn water into vinegar, and he activated it in a panic while he was drowning.” “Mh. A peculiar quirk...” “So All Might got all drenched in vinegar when he dove in to save him. He made this very silly face in front of the cameras, it was great! And when the boy apologized for causing trouble, guess what All Might told him?” “I’m sorry I’m the living embodiment of this unfair, hypocritical society that has driven you to the brink of despair?” “No. He said,” Izuku continued, breezing past his father’s petty remarks with practiced ease, “It is I who should thank you. My skin’s looking ten years younger now.” “Oh my God…” The man groaned, and a loud thunk-crash noise accompanied his words. “Oh, come on!” Izuku giggled, covering his mouth with his free hand. “It’s so funny!” “Just because they’re called ‘dad jokes’ doesn’t mean I’m legally obligated to laugh at them.” “But it is funny! All Might’s the funniest! Did you know that he just wrote a joke book? It’s called All Might’s Gags and Jokes: A Compendium. It already has amazing reviews! They say it’s warm and relatable and cy.. cyclical…” “He wrote a joke book. A veritable Renaissance man, this one...” His father muttered. Izuku heard something clink in the background. Probably the pieces of whatever his father dropped. “Mom says she’ll buy it for my birthday!” Izuku added, swinging his whole body on his chair in sheer excitement. “That is such a poor use of your remittance. I’ll need to have a couple of words with her…” “It’s for my education!” Izuku enunciated with solemnity, straightening his posture. “There’s a whole chapter of American puns and word plays! It will help me learn English!” “If you want to learn English on your own so soon, please choose a decent source. Start with basic grammar and alphabet books, watch some subtitled shows and movies to get the hang of the correct pronunciation-” “I’m learning a lot from All Might already! The catchphrase he used when he was in college in California was I am here! When he’s surprised, he says Oh my goodness! When he doesn’t believe something, he says Nonsense!” Izuku parroted, taking great care of imitating All Might’s confident, surprised and disbelieving expressions respectively. They would be lost on his father, but he needed to practice them anyway. “If that’s a good American accent, I’m the next Symbol of Peace.” “Dad.” Izuku said, suddenly very serious. He had a very important question to ask, and it had been a long time coming. “Why do you always make fun of him? It’s like… It’s almost like you don’t like him at all.” The words sounded so wrong he almost wasn’t brave enough to say them. Izuku would have been mortified if anyone had moved such an accusation on him. “I suppose he has a sort of… charisma about him.” His father admitted ruefully. “I can’t say it strikes any chords with me though.” “Are you just jealous of him?” Izuku asked shrewdly. “Kacchan also talks a lot of trash about All Might, but it’s obvious he’s just jealous. It’s all right if you are, though, I mean, he’s so-” “I’m this close to hanging up, Izuku.” “But- but how can you not like All Might?! Everyone likes All Might! Boys and girls, children and grown-ups! From age 0 to 100!” “...I guess I just don’t fit the target demographic then.” Izuku huffed. “You’re so boring, dad.” “Says the one who’s been talking my ear off about the same topic for the last forty minutes.” The boy frowned, nibbling at his lip. “...Sorry. Am I annoying you?” “I’ll admit I may have hit my monthly tolerance limit of All Might trivia. Don’t worry about it though.” Izuku did in fact stop worrying, his father’s amusement clearly detectable in his voice. “I think I’ll be able to bear with your unabashed enthusiasm until you hit your mandatory disillusioned teenage phase. Then we’ll see if that obnoxiously cheery act of his will still resonate with you.”

June 2nd, 2274 “His normal body temperature is about two degrees higher than the average. Around 38-39 °C.” “And what can you deduce from that?” Izuku’s father goaded. The boy stared at the scribbles in his notebook in deep thought. “Uhm… that it’s difficult to tell if he has a fever or not?” His father laughed, but not unkindly. “I wouldn’t think so. You just said yourself that that is his normal temperature. Therefore, I wouldn’t call Endeavor’s doctor unless his thermometer read more than 39.5 °C, probably.” “Right.” Izuku nodded. That was obvious, wasn’t it? Why hadn’t he understood that on his own? His father didn’t seem to mind his blunder though. “Try again.” “I think…” Izuku’s eyes were just about to bore a hole into his rough sketch of the hero’s costume. He gave up after the silence started to make him uncomfortable though. “...I don’t know. What can I deduce from that?” “Hm… You did bring up an interesting point. Do you know how fever works, Izuku?” “Yeah. Your body temperature rises when you’re sick. If it rises too much, you can get in serious trouble, you could even die. It never really gets that bad though.” “But why does it rise? What does your body accomplish by doing that?” “Uh…” Izuku frowned. He was sure he’d read or heard something about that, but the details escaped him at the moment. “To help you fight off the sickness, right? You feel worse at first, but it actually helps you get better.” “Exactly. Most bacteria and viruses that infect men thrive and multiply optimally at around 37 °C, which is the average person’s normal body temperature. But the growth of these microorganisms is hindered when the environment gets too hot. That is the principle that makes fever useful for humans. As your body gets hotter, it debilitates the invasors, so that your immune system can remove them more easily.” “..Oh.” It was a pity that his father called him only once a month, Izuku could have easily listened to him for hours every day. He always had so many interesting things to say about so many different subjects, and he always exposed them so neatly. “So. Can you deduce anything new now?” “Uh, uhm… He… I guess he...” Izuku snapped out of his reverie. Right, this was a conversation, not a lesson. He went over the new information in his head as quickly as he could. Higher temperature than normal... Fever... Microorganisms... Immune syst- Oh! “He heals quicker than- no, wait! He doesn’t get sick at all! Because he’s always too hot for the microorganisms! They can’t grow in his body!” “Excellent reasoning!” His father’s warm praise made Izuku’s chest swell with pride. “Obviously he isn’t completely immune to any and all infections, there are lots of exceptions to the mechanism I just explained to you. But yes, I do believe it’s safe to assume that our esteemed Flame Hero suffers from the occasional seasonal maladies far less often than the general population, if at all.” “That’s so cool…” Izuku immediately added the new data to his notes, almost breaking the tip of the pencil in his enthusiasm. “Is that what you wanted me to deduce? Or did you explain that just because I brought up the fever thing?” “I was actually thinking of something else. But, on second thought, it may be too technical a topic for an eight-year-old.” “...Can you tell me about it anyway?” “Of course.” Izuku would never not be grateful for the patience his father had, never denying him any clarification on anything. He was just about the only adult who never got tired of his questions. Even his mom sometimes hid her fatigue behind a mildly insincere I don’t know. “High heat isn’t exactly conductive to the activity of human cells either. That’s one of the reasons why you feel exhausted and achy when you have a fever, your body struggles to keep doing what it’s supposed to do above its normal temperature range. But Endeavor not only is at peak condition at 39 °C, he can also withstand open flames with a much higher temperature. This suggests that his cells must be fundamentally different from the average person’s on a biochemical level, that his quirk must provide some particularly efficient cellular mechanism to prevent heat damage. One example might be some dedicated enzymes to protect proteins from denaturation, but now I’m entering mere speculation.” A pause. “Did you follow me?” “...Kind of.” Izuku said, kind of lying but not entirely. He had followed most of that. He scrawled and circled a couple of terms he hadn’t grasped - Biochemical - Enzymes - Denaturation - on the page. He didn’t want to waste his father’s time by asking him to explain the meaning of words he could easily look up later on his own. “The gist of it is that Endeavor’s Hellflame has at least two facets. Not only ‘creating fire’, but also ‘not incinerating himself’. The first trait would be a fatal liability without the second.” “Got it!” Izuku cheered. Now that he had understood completely. “You sure know a lot about quirks, dad! Like, a lot! About anything, really!” “For the sake of intellectual honesty, it must be said that it isn’t difficult to impress a primary schooler.” His father laughed. “I’m just older than you.” “How much older?” Izuku asked, realizing for the first time that no one had ever told him his father’s age. “Oh, by a lot. Centuries.” Izuku cackled. “You can’t be that old. You still go to work. Our neighbors are 80 and they’re already retired.” “I do try to keep a youthful outlook on life. But yes, quirks fascinate me quite a bit. And they make for the perfect topic to distract you from your incessant yapping about All Might.” “Speaking of All Might-” “No, I-” His father sighed theatrically. “I just walked into this one, didn’t I?” “Yep.” Izuku grinned. “What about his quirk? Do you know anything about it? He never gives straight answers when people ask him about it…” “That may be the single sign of intelligence he’s ever displayed. The more your enemies know about your quirk, the easier it is for them to find your weaknesses. I’m surprised the other pro heroes aren’t as reserved.” “I wonder why All Might does that, though. His quirk is… pretty obvious.” Izuku pondered. “It just makes him strong. Very strong. Like, the strongest ever. But that’s it.” “Allegedly, yes. But as you noticed yourself, if raw power was all there was to it, there would be no reason to skirt around the issue in interviews, no?” “So there must be something else… What do you think it might be?” “I think it would be no less than cruel to deprive you of the thrill of carrying out your own research.” Izuku let out a dissatisfied moan, and his father chuckled. “You are already so very proficient at it. Your mother told me you’ve already filled a whole notebook with hero and quirk analyses.” “Oh, ehr… It’s just stuff I read here and there…” “Mh, I’ve heard enough of your ‘stuff’ to know that there’s more than random factoids in that head of yours. In fact…” Izuku felt his cheeks warm for the compliment. “I think you’ve gotten old and judicious enough to be trusted with my emergency number.” “Uh? What emergency number?” “It’s a phone number I’ll always answer to, on any day and at any hour, in case you may find yourself in a bad situation. Hopefully you’ll never need it, but better safe than sorry. Now…” His father’s voice raised slightly, drowning out Izuku’s impending interruption. “Can I rely on the fact that you are aware that desperately wanting to tell me that All Might saved a kitten from a meteor does not qualify as an emergency?” Izuku pouted. “I know what an emergency is, dad.” “Good. Ask your mother to give you the number then. Don’t save it on your phone or write it anywhere. Memorize it, and be responsible with it.”

December 3rd, 2275 Sorry for the long silence. I had an accident on the job and I won’t be able to speak clearly for a while. We can talk with the included devices. Use your ring finger to activate them. Usual days, usual hours. Hisashi That short note held the first words Izuku had received from his father in the last five months. The first month he hadn’t phoned, Izuku had felt slightly disappointed, but understanding. His father was a busy man, surely something very important must have been requiring his full-time attention. It was fine, Izuku was confident he could manage to sweet-talk him into a double-length call the following month to make up for that. The second month, he had started to worry. His mother hadn’t heard from his father either. It was unprecedented not to hear from him for such a long time. Since Izuku could remember, his father had never skipped one of their monthly calls. They often talked on the first day of every month, and he kept trying to contact them exactly once each following day if his calls were missed. He never failed to reach them past the third day. He always called from a hidden number, so trying to get hold of him was not an option. The third month, Izuku’s mother had decided to use the emergency number. She hadn’t been able to get through to her husband, but the polite colleague of his who had picked up had reassured her that he was indisposed but overall fine, and would get in touch with them as soon as possible… which could still take a while. Curiously, the coworker had also instructed them to collect a sample of their fingerprints and send them to a specific address. Izuku had been mystified by the request, but his mother had readily agreed, commenting that it was “not the strangest thing Hisashi’s ever asked for”. The silent wait that followed had been a little uneasy, but not harrowing. Izuku and his mother reread the message a couple of times before opening the box they’d just been delivered. Inside were only the two mentioned devices with their respective chargers, snuggled among waterproof packaging and stuffing. They looked very much like ordinary mobile phones, except they had no buttons or ports on any side. Some quick experimentation proved that they could be turned on simply by pressing the indicated finger on the touchscreen. The display showed a very minimalistic chat interface, with a fixed red dot on the top left corner. No amount of tapping on the screen could bring up the virtual keyboard though, which was puzzling. There was no way to access the rest of the phone’s functions, if it even had any. It was the third day of the month, so technically still within the familiar communication window. Izuku kept poking and prodding at the buttonless phone for the whole afternoon until eventually, shortly after dinner, the red dot at the top of the chat became green. A minute later, a message popped up. Hello, Izuku. Izuku almost dropped his cup of hot chocolate in excitement, which was quickly replaced by frustration because he still couldn’t type anything in any way. How was he supposed to- Speak. I can hear you. “...Oh! Nice!” Izuku exclaimed. “Hi, dad! How are you? What happened?” I’ve been better. I got decked by a hysterical ape. Izuku frowned. “That’s not funny. Mom and I were very worried.” That wasn’t really a joke. What? What even- “...How? Did you break into a zoo or something…?” Sorry, you’re right. Let me rephrase. I had a violent disagreement with a brute. “Oh…” Izuku was about to ask for further explanations but he waited. The three bouncing dots at the bottom of the screen signalled that his father was still writing. We will have to communicate like this for a while. I hope it isn’t too much of an inconvenience for you. Judging by how long it took him to type even the shortest messages, Izuku thought it was going to be much more of an inconvenience for his father. He felt sorry for him. “No, not all. Is it… is it really bad? Shouldn’t you come home so we can help you get better? It sounds like you won’t be able to work anyway…” I’ll receive better medical treatment here, and I can still get some work done while I recuperate. Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll recover fully sooner or later. Izuku picked at the lint of his blanket, choosing his words carefully. “You could… come home anyway. Even if you could work. When you’re feeling a little better. So we could spend some time together.” The three bouncing dots reappeared, but Izuku kept talking. He already knew what his father’s answer was going to be, but he wanted to take advantage of the delay to get a few more words in. “Some of my friends have parents that work far from home too. They’re away a lot, but… they do come back to visit sometimes. Usually for the holidays. At least… At least once.” At least his friends had actually met their fathers once in their whole lives, Izuku completed only in his head. You know how things stand. My job doesn’t afford me this kind of free time. “...What do you even do that won’t let you ever do anything?” Izuku muttered, out of sheer petulance. That was another familiar point of contention, to which his father replied with the same, word-for-word justification he always used. Every detail concerning my activities is classified by the government. We’ve been over this. Don’t be childish. And that was usually the end of it. Any further questioning after the ‘classified’ thing invariably turned Izuku’s father into a slippery wall of smooth deflections. But, considering the current situation, Izuku felt like he could get away with a little more nagging, if he played his cards right. “I know you can’t say anything. But how about…” He physically leaned forwards, trying not to let his tension seep through his voice. “How about I try to deduce something? About your job. Just… for fun.” No new message showed up, not even the typing dots. Izuku decided that it was as much of an approval as he was going to get, so he started to voice his thoughts as they formed. “...Your job is classified by the government. So it’s important, very important, so important that other people can’t know about it.” When he was very young, Izuku had obviously interpreted it as irrefutable proof that his father must be some sort of secret agent. He had exposed his conclusion to Kacchan and his gang once. They had… not-so-respectfully disagreed. Izuku had never brought up the matter with them afterwards. “Your note said that you got hurt on the job. So someone you know from work punched you so hard that, even after five months, you still can’t talk well.” Izuku paused. That was… a scary idea. It dawned on him, for the first time since the beginning of this whole ordeal, that his father may have really dodged a bullet there. What kind of a brute could possibly want to injure someone that much…? Surely a criminal… A villain, maybe…? “Your job is dangerous, and it leaves you almost no free time. It also pays well.” That last item was admittedly a shot in the dark, Izuku didn’t really know much about money handling. But he had noticed that his mother never denied him a gift or a treat on the grounds of its cost (his vast collection of All Might memorabilia was a testament to that), like so many of his friends’ relatives were wont to do. She didn’t need a job herself, and Izuku remembered overhearing a conversation she had with Kacchan’s mom where she had said that they were ‘well provided for’. “You know a lot about a lot of stuff, especially about quirks and heroes. You know a lot of things about quirks and heroes that I couldn’t find anywhere on the internet.” Izuku paused, racking his brain for anything else that stuck out. Before he could come up with more points to make, his father finally wrote back. You sure put some thought into this. I’m impressed. The lack of reprimands was an encouragement in its own right. Now came the hard part. These were all facts that he already knew, now he had to put them together… and no matter how much he tried to come up with different possibilities, there was only one explanation that rang true in Izuku’s mind. “Dad… are you some sort of… undercover hero?” Izuku waited with baited breath for the dancing dots to turn into a complete message. Definitely not. ...Aw, shoot. Although I guess I do happen to deal with heroes quite often in my line of work. Izuku gasped. That was the first real piece of information his father had ever shared with him about his job! And wow, he worked with heroes! And whatever support he lent them had to be pretty vital if he was always so busy and tight-lipped. “So you’re like… a policeman? An informant that tracks down villains for the heroes to catch? Or an engineer bound by trade secret? Or-” Enough, Izuku. I’m supposed to be resting. I don’t think being given the third degree by my own son counts as such. Izuku deflated. So close to the truth, and yet so far… Maybe he could manage to get some other clue out of his father later. But… there was one more thing he simply had to ask. “...Have you ever met All Might?” I’m just going to ignore you after this. Well, it had been worth a try. Izuku finally relented, reasonably satisfied with the result of his investigation. “Okay, okay. Sorry. No more questions. And no All Might stuff. Not that I have much to tell you about him. He hasn’t really been around lately.” Hasn’t he, now? Uh, odd. It wasn’t like his father to miss an opportunity to dodge All Might gossip. Izuku supposed there’d be no harm in taking advantage of this atypical spark of curiosity. “Yeah. It’s been like this for a few months. Rumors say he’s abroad, working on some large scale mission. Something very secret, that’s why there are no articles on him in newspapers from other countries either.” I wasn’t aware of this. That’s very interesting. Although I couldn’t imagine anyone less suited to hushed-up operations. Izuku couldn’t help but snort. In light of the recent revelation, he wondered if his father was so unapologetically critical of All Might because he had worked with him and they hadn’t gotten along… which seemed kind of impossible. How could All Might be the unpleasant type of coworker? Or maybe his father really was just jealous because he couldn’t work with All Might often enough. A sudden thought occurred to the boy. “...Sorry, I guess you don’t want to hear about hero stuff now that you’re, uh… on forced vacation.” Actually, I’d love to. I’ve been a little out of the loop lately, I need to catch up with the news anyway. Fire away all the information you have. Izuku smiled. “Even about All Might?” Especially about All Might.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #izuku midoriya #deku #all for one

19 notes · View notes

shipmistress9 · 4 years ago

Text

Sex Toy Advent Calendar: Day 5: Clearly Weird Lube

Fandom: HTTYD

Rating: M

Pairing: Hiccup/Astrid

Words: 2325

Read on AO3

Summary: Day 5 of the Sex Toy Advent Calendar. Today's gift leaves a lot to be desired. Just good that Hiccup is good at improvising.

AN: This one... I don't even know. *scratches head* They did most of it on their own?

. o O o .

With curiosity and anticipation tingling in her belly, Astrid waited for Hiccup to pull out the box of the day from their calendar. It was yet again a black box with the golden number ‘5’ printed on the side. What made this one exciting, though, was the fact that it was the biggest box they’d had so far. And even though she knew that size didn’t matter… much… she was still burning with excitement. Initially, she’d thought little of this calendar, had only seen it as an expensive joke. But after the last few days, her expectations were rather high. She only had to work a few hours in the morning today, and then they were both free to enjoy today’s gift for hours.

“Come on, Hiccup, don’t keep me in suspense here,” she demanded, bouncing impatiently. “What is it?”

“Oh, now I’m not supposed to do that?” He had a teasing glint in his eyes, and Astrid groaned.

“You know exactly what I mean! You can suspend me like that whenever you want. As long as you finally open this box and show me what's inside!”

Chuckling, he complied. “All right, all right, let’s have a look. It’s pretty heavy in comparison. I wonder… Oh.” A slight frown appeared on his forehead.

“Hiccup!”

“Yeah, I know, I know. No suspense.” He let the box’s content roll into his large hand, a plastic bottle with some clear gel inside. “It’s… it looks like… lube?”

“Lube?” Puzzled, Astrid took the bottle and inspected it. “You’re right. It’s really lube. Heh… I wouldn’t have thought lube counts as a sex toy, though. More like… essential equipment for comfortable sex?”

Thoughtfully, Hiccup nodded. “Agreed. Although, this seems to be some special lube. What does it say on the label?”

Astrid took another look at the bottle, and couldn’t hold back a snort. “Oh, yeah. Special lube, all right…” She held the bottle out for him to read the label, too. “Special fragrance, fitting for the season. Backed Apple.”

Hiccup’s nose twitched. “For real? Okay… erm. Weird! But, hey. It’s free lube. What are we going to do with it?”

Throwing him a bemused glance, Astrid opened the bottle and raised it to her nose. “Well, I can always peg you if you feel up to—Ew!” Grimacing, she held the bottle away from her. “Yeah, no, not when you smell like that though. Esh, that’s some penetrative stench.”

With a slight frown, Hiccup took the bottle and sniffed it, too, but only to grimace and firmly close the lid a moment later. “Oh, that’s horrible,” he agreed, shuddering. “Have these people ever smelled baked apples? How… how…” He looked baffled, and honestly, Astrid felt the same.

“Can lube turn bad?”

Hiccup shrugged. “Possible? That would at least be an explanation.” He placed the bottle onto a sideboard and threw it a disdainful look.

“Yeah… Disappointing, though.” Astrid’s shoulders slumped. “Not that we can’t entertain ourselves without these toys, but…”

“I know what you mean. It’s not quite the same.”

After throwing the bottle of awfully smelling lube into the waste bin, they ate breakfast. Sulking, Astrid shovelled porridge into her mouth, and the fact that it was poorly flavoured as apple and cinnamon didn’t exactly help to improve her mood. “It’s ridiculous,” she exclaimed a few minutes later. “Even this porridge is out to annoy me now.”

Cocking his head, Hiccup’s eyes brightened. ”I might have an idea.”

. o O o .

By the time Astrid had finished her work for that day, her mood had calmed down—but not yet improved. It was ridiculous. It shouldn’t matter. She and Hiccup were together for so long now, not knowing what to do with a free afternoon definitely was not a disaster. They could make a video game contest, or maybe there even was some interesting film in the cinema. Or, if it truly was the sex she’d expected, then they had enough toys and options to choose from. They could simply use their usual lube instead and see where it led them.

But that just wasn’t the same… Damn anticipation!

Sighing in annoyance at herself, she let herself into their flat—and paused right there in the doorway. That scent… was that…?

“Ah, perfect timing.” Hiccup greeted her with a warm smile and a peck to the corner of her mouth. “It should be done in a matter of minutes now.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, but didn’t really need an answer. The scent that wafted to her nose the moment she left the entrance room was telling enough and made her mouth water. “Did you seriously make baked apples?”

With a small smile, Hiccup shook his head. “Not quite. I was thinking about it, but since I had enough time today…” He trailed off as they entered the kitchen, just as the oven made a demanding beep.

Astrid’s eyes went wide, her lips splitting into a huge grin. “You made apple pie?”

“My Grandma’s recipe,” he confirmed. “I thought it would be a good way to make up for the disappointment this morning.”

“Mmm, perfect!” She stretched to give him a quick kiss. “And you are, too.”

The cake was indeed perfect, but Astrid had no genuine doubts about that, anyway. Hiccup’s cooking skills were amazing, and he was passionate about his baking as well; which was something Astrid happily and regularly indulged in.

After eating a couple of slices each, they were both too full to even think about eating dinner anytime soon. Or doing anything else, really.

With a satisfied groan, Astrid leaned back in her chair. “That truly was a fantastic compensation for the Baked Apple disaster this morning. Kudos to you for coming up with an equally pleasant alternative.”

Hiccup snorted. “What? Are you trying to say that my cake is just as bad as that lube? Wow… and here I thought, you’d enjoyed the cake.”

“Noooo!” She threw a small piece of leftover cake at him; barely more than a crumb, really, and it didn’t even reach him. “Muttonhead. I meant that I’m too full for sex now. And I don’t even regret it. Much.”

“So, you’re saying that my cake was as good as sex?” He took a moment to exaggeratedly think about her words, bis long finger tipping against his chin almost comically. “Okay, that’s something I can live with.”

Laughing at her dorky, wonderful boyfriend, she stood up to carry their dishes to the kitchen, stealing a kiss from him on her way.

“How about we get comfortable on the couch and watch a movie or two?” she called back to him. “I think that would be a great way to wrap this day up.”

Hiccup agreed, and they moved to settle comfortably on the couch.

“Do you want to take your prosthetic off?” Astrid asked before she sat down.

Hiccup looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded. “Yeah, I think that would be better. Could you get my crutches from the bedroom?”

She did as asked and placed the crutches in their usual spot next to the couch, within easy reach. There was no need for her to offer that she would help him, too, if he needed to get up. Hiccup knew and appreciated that, and regularly relied on her help already if his amputation site acted up on a bad day. But he preferred to be independent if possible, and Astrid respected that.

A little while later, they both sat on their couch, comfortable side by side and wrapped in a soft blanket. They'd put glasses, a bottle of water, and even a bag of chocolate-covered nuts on the low table in front of them—in case they got hungry later. But for the moment, they were both happy to just let the cake settle.

Even though the film, Pirates of the Caribbean, was one of her favourites, it didn’t take long until her full stomach made Astrid sleepy. At first, she only leaned against Hiccup's shoulder and enjoyed the cosy comfort of his arm around her shoulders. Too often, life got so hectic lately, so moments like these were precious to her. However, even sitting became too demanding after a while, and she shifted until her head rested in his lap, humming as he absentmindedly caressed her hair.

She must have fallen asleep like this. The next thing she remembered, the film had jumped to a point much later in the story, and outside, the sky had turned from dull grey to black. Groaning, she shifted into another position, intent on making herself comfortable again, when a familiar hand on her shoulder shook her awake again.

“Astrid? I’m sorry, but I need to get up.”

Accepting the inevitable, she let him move. She cracked one eye open to make sure he could reach his crutches, but then quickly drifted off again, the low noises coming from the TV lulling her in quickly. She barely noticed how Hiccup came back, only heard his quiet chuckling before he crawled onto the couch behind her.

The next time she awoke, it was to Captain Jack Sparrow and Bootstrap Bill talking to each other. Had Hiccup put on the second movie? Had she slept through the first one entirely?

With a sleepy moan, she shifted around until she could look up at Hiccup. He lay behind her, propped up on one arm and the other loosely around her waist. He was watching her now, eyes soft with fatigue.

“Hey, there. Had a good nap?”

She nodded, humming. “Looks like I needed that.”

He accepted her words without comment. In fact, he didn’t react at all and simply watched her, his gaze so intense as if he was looking deep inside her, not just at her eyes but at her soul as well. It made her feel warm, cradled, cherished, as if there was nothing in the entire world that mattered except being here at this moment, together. She acted without thinking, turned her head and stretched a little, breached the small distance between them until their lips met.

It was a slow kiss. Just lips moving together, melting, searching. It was simple but so good, sensual and meaningful. When she reached for him to pull him closer, the stubble on his jaw were rough against her palm, making her shiver. He wa so… so real. Everything about him, his warmth seeping into her body, his hand on her waist drawing her toward him, his breath ghosting across her skin, it was so intense. Irresistible. She wanted for this moment to never end, to keep kissing Hiccup and feeling him so close for the rest of eternity.

And for a while, her wish was granted. Time lost all meaning as they kissed, their bodies moving as one. Shifting, turning, grinding; even sleepy as they were, they always knew what the other wanted and followed their motions. Hiccup's fingers combed through her long golden tresses, his fingernails dragging across her scalp and making her tremble. Her own hands wandered over his back beneath his shirt, exploring his shoulders, the scars from his accident, and every single ridge of his spine down to his rear.

She loved how he ground against her, the motions so strong and natural and reaching so deep despite the clothes that still separated them. It was wonderful, knowing bodies nearly working on their own to bring each other to completion.

Her orgasm was building slowly, and when she came, it surprised even herself. Her muscles seizing deep inside her belly made her spasm beneath him. She mewled, and her fingers dug deep into his flesh as her grip on his backside grew firmer, holding him close. Her still sleepy mind went blissfully empty as pleasure surged through her in one powerful wave, and she barely registered how Hiccup’s arms shook at her side or how he muffled his groan against her neck.

When he rolled off her to lie next to her again, Astrid shifted too until she faced him. “Mmm, I liked that,” she murmured, then chuckled. “But so much for a day without sex.”

Hiccup snorted. He sounded as tired as she felt, his eyes closed and a lazy smile on his face. “Is that a complaint I’m hearing there? About too much sex? From you?”

Now, she laughed for real, low but true. “No, definitely no complaints here.” She burrowed against his chest and deeply inhaled his scent, leather, fire, and sandalwood. Home.

“Aye. I didn’t think so.”

His arms closed around her, holding her, and they both basked in this moment of sleepy closeness, vulnerable but safe. Astrid was close to drifting off into sleep again when Hiccup stirred once more.

“Mh? What’s up, babe?” she asked sleepily.

“I need the bathroom.”

“Again?” She lifted her head, again reflexively looking for his walking aids.

He chuckled. “Yeah, well… I made a bit of a mess of my boxers, and I need to clean that up before I fall asleep.”

Astrid blinked, then giggled. “Ah, right.” She sat up and rubbed at her eyes. “Do you need my help?”

He paused, considering her offer, but then shook his head. “No, I’m good. But we should move over to the bed, it’s more comfortable than spending the entire night here on the couch.”

Grudgingly, she had to admit that Hiccup was right. She waited until she heard him leave the bathroom, then went there herself to use the loo and brush her teeth. After retrieving Hiccup’s prosthetic from the living room for the next morning, she happily crawled into bed next to him. And as she was about to fall asleep for real, she thought that maybe today’s gift from their advent calendar hadn’t been that much of a failure after all. If nothing else, it at least had served as a reminder that they didn’t need extravagant toys or accessories to be happy.

* - . - * - . o O o . - * - . - *

If you want to support me you can buy me a coffee. I love coffee 😊 (Ko-Fi)

#Hiccstrid #fanfiction #httyd #Modern AU #Sex Toy Advent Calendar #not for children #nsft #romance #fluff

25 notes · View notes

scienceoftheidiot · 4 years ago

Text

So you know what it’s wednesday you’re getting an infodump on Desden’s blindness.

Beware. I’m a biologist. I’m a nerd. And I’m a teacher. You know what’s coming, right ?

I just reblogged an extremely interesting and great post about writing blind characters that I advise you to go and read now (I haven't finished yet) because it's just full of info and contrary to usual posts like that it's not guilt tripping or anything. I love this post and OP for this. However I've noticed there's a bunch of advices I don't follow myself and I felt like I could expand and why and how I think it's not a bad thing. Here's the first one : don’t make your character blind through an accident. Because drama.

So yeah. Desden lost his sight due to some kind of accident. Which is thoroughly described by a mysterious bystander’s flashback in chap.3. So that’s not a spoiler. But how can a brick through the head make you blind ?

Brain. Brains are evil. You know I got a PhD in biology : I am sad to admit I couldn’t go through with my love of neurology because it was competing with my love for bacteria and parasites that can kill you and happily live everywhere. Life’s though. No neuro for me, welcome to viral ecology (viruses are obligatory parasites, sue me). But not only can’t I help being a nerd... I have an uncle in my family who lost part of his vision from a brain haematoma (not due to trauma, but the result and how it works is the same). Who’s also a nerd. (And a PhD in physics cause like that’s what nerds do, right ?) And he explained in details how he lost his vision (and gained back some of it over time) to us.

If you cut blood supply to parts of the brain for long enough, this part will die. Logic. Head trauma can do that and more. So, what happened is that Desden’s visual cortex got cut from blood supply for a relatively long amount of time (he can thank the extremely cold weather of the day it happened, which makes your body turn into “low survival mode”, when the “accident” happened for 1) being still alive and 2) not losing more than most of his sight, some balance, and a bunch of memories). But the brain is a funny little thing and some times it does stuff (not going into the haematoma part, I’m not a doc, it’s long and not very relevant, but it has to be taken into account cause it’s what can make part of the lost sight reappear). So Desden was totally blind for a while, then his brain managed to get some of his sight back. Very little.

But what and how does he see ?

See, the brain is constructed so that the visual cortex’s position reflects the visual field you have, except in reverse. Sorry. I’m a teacher. I’m going to add a schema. But in French because I actually work with this (well. Nope. They changed the program but I have old program lessons lying around just in case) and I’m lazy today. Just look at the pretty colours. It shows you what I just explained very badly because I’m used to use schemas, but here’s what you need to understand.

SOOOO. Basically make most of the colour disappear except for a very small part of blue at the far right of the visual cortex. Meaning that in the end, what Desden can see is an extremely reduced part of peripheral vision. Try to fix your eyes on a point in front of you and describe what is at the far corner of your left eye. Good luck. (and let me tell you I know I have extremely good peripheral vision myself, it’s still composed by what your brain KNOWS is around. From seeing it with the other parts of your field of vision. Because your brain is constantly MAKING UP what you’re seeing from a lot of information including past ones when you didn’t even think about it but your eyes brushed that part. Your senses are fucked up. Deal with it. Your brain is playing tricks on you right now.)

This is why, btw, he’s often described tilting his head on the right. He doesn’t have much control on his eye movement so he tries to get some info on people (mostly light and colours but since his visual memory is fucked up, it’s not very useful)

His eyes move. He just doesn’t really control them. In fact they’re often if not constantly moving because head trauma is often linked to the apparition of a nystagmus, which is a rapid eye movement to the side or up and down - my brother has that, vertical, did you know it existed ? well I do. A friend of my parents has a horizontal one that is a lot more visible. Constantly. She’s not blind, her brain compensates this. Brains are both evil and awesome. Deal with it.

Oh and his eyes are perfectly normal. Even quite pretty, as he describes them himself. He still wears sunglasses because his brain doesn’t like strong light which give him migraines, because it has a hard time processing visual info.

His eyes also work perfectly (well as perfectly as they did before his accident, which is okay but a little nearsighted) which leads to the only thing that sounds like a superpower that isn’t one : blindsight. If you research it you’ll learn about people who can do absolutely crazy things like catch stuff that’s thrown at them or avoid most obstacles on a path while being totally blind, because BRAINS, AGAIN. Your brain doesn’t only process visual cues through the visual cortex; there’s a slight part in the “primitive brain” or “lizard brain” that does, too. So basically Desden’s body can see stuff but he’s not aware of it consciously. He’s NOT using it and he’s NOT as good as the people I cited above. But for example he has insights he souldn’t have on people’s moods, because his lizard brain picks their faces up. Not always, and it’s often more when someone’s in a VERY bad mood that SHOWS. And since he’s not aware of it he takes that as hints from his other senses. It’s NOT compensating for his blindness - if anything, it’s a silly trick. BUT I AM A NERD, REMEMBER ?

Anyway. Now you know. Desden still lost his vision through an accident which, as said in the reference post i’m refering to (haha) would be bad if it was used for drama but, in fact, I try to avoid most of it because apart from the accident, which is witnessed by someone else who is important to the later plot, nothing from Desden’s life before or after it is described in details. My novel starts 9 years after the accident. He’s got time to get used to being blind.

*I* know everything that happened in his life, or most of the important things anyway, that lead to the opening of the book, but you will only get scraps of it because it’s not what’s relevant. It’s important for the construction of the character, but what I want to show here is not Desden’s journey through being used to being blind. It’s his journey through accepting his family heritage, which has nothing to do with being blind, and sharing it with the rest of his family while it stayed hidden to them until then because the person who kept this before him was an arsehole. There are a lot of plot points that are linked to Desden’s blindness, including said arsehole arseholery (I be good with words), but it’s not the point of the book.

Y’all know I’m a Daredevil fan. That’s where I got the idea of a blind character (not only), but now erase that from your mind. Desden doesn’t have any superpower that compensate his blindness. He’s got pretty good hearing because he’s used to use it a lot more than when he was sighted. It’s not better. He loves music, but he’s absolutely tone deaf so forget the blind piano tuner/musician cliché (this is a joke in one of my AUs, in fact)(explanation : in France, which is the country I research for because I’m French and my story takes place in France, the most prominent school for the blind used to primarily teach people to become piano tuners during the 20th century). He’s got a very good nose, but that’s just how it is, and since I’m using my own experience of rediscovering my sense of smell after years of living with smoking people (don’t smoke) (yeah, even you, Desden) I know it’s not superhuman. In fact my own nose is pretty shitty compared to my mom’s. Who is a fucking hunting hound. Anwyay I digress.

Desden often chases any comment that restrict him to being “the blind guy” by stating stuff he does or likes to do, like “I’m also a good tarot player but no one ever mentions that” or “my brownies are the best ones and I don’t even need to add pot to it”. This is how he feels about it. He’s blind. It’s okay, it’s part of him. But it’s not his sole characteristic.

I think I’m done here. I haven’t touched on other people’s reaction to him that much, and if you’re interested you can ask questions. Basically remember he’s a 1,98m guy, with broad shoulders, and that’s the first thing you see from him. Also there’s his guide dog Kalinka.

Lot more things to talk about, not that much time. So if you’re interested in knowing more, poke me, and I might write more about my character.

Lastly and more importantly : if you see things that you can correct in this post, please do so. As I said, I’m a nerd, but I’m not a neurologist. I’m going the vulgarized version. And I like to be taught things. So if you see mistakes, tell me.

Peace !

#original character #blind character #desden #long post #very long post #also i'm writing as ideas come so hum bear with me

9 notes · View notes

thedistrictsleepsalonetonight · 4 years ago

Text

Better with you

This is the way of things:

Riley falls in love with Harper. Harper breaks her heart. Harper falls in love with Abby. Harper marries Abby. Abby has a friend. Riley falls in love.

In retrospect it both annoys and amazes her how Harper conditions so much of her life. If she imagined her life in the form of roads as complex, as confused and as diverging as the lines on her palm, there are probably multiple signboards that have Harper’s face on them, with some strange quote written beside them along the lines of “Hey! Been a while since you thought of me, the girl who ruined most of your life hasn’t it?”.

Riley hates it.

Okay, so in all honesty, she hates it until she crashes into Maya.

*****

Here’s the thing about Riley: She’s stupid around the people she loves.

How else does one explain all her major life decisions? She stays quiet when Austin Thomas spray-paints “Dike” all over her locker (even through the shaking, and the trembling and the huddling in a bathroom cubicle in the morning, what has her more concerned is what it’s probably doing to Harper. Well, that, and the fact that dyke is hilariously misspelled). She watches Harper from across the corridor, biting her lip, holding onto her left arm with her right hand, and hates that she still wants her so badly that she can’t breathe. She hates herself for loving Harper, hates her heart for betraying her in this very fundamental way, hates it for not being able to think rationally enough.

(The thought makes her laugh. What brand of love was ever rational?)

Even after she’s adequately moved on, has fallen in love a second time, the third, the fourth, she can never really bring herself to do that. The thought of Harper will evoke all forms of insufferable feelings ranging from sorrow to nostalgia. Not fury, though. Never fury.

She walks out of high school with excellent grades, graduates med school top of her class, gets into the one of the best residency programs in her state, all in a misguided attempt to compensate for this huge cosmic failing she’s somehow been saddled with. If life handed out academic report cards, chits of paper with affirmations engraved on them, then the ones she would give her parents would read Your child is doing great; She’s sorry she’s gay. Your child is trying her very best. A tiny PS at the bottom right corner would say – Love her. Please.

And she comes back, every year, to those stupid White Elephant parties, combats side-glances with polite smiles, off-hand comments about how her peers are heterosexually married to their heterosexual partners with grimaces. Brevity helps, and so does a glass of wine on her at all times.

And then Harper brings Abby, one Christmas.

*****

She’s not going to deny that she has a little bit of a crush on Abby.

Come on. It’s Abby. She’s a lesbian dreamboat with some serious hair-game and the gayest sense of dressing she’s ever seen on anyone. How is a girl supposed to not like that earnest smile and deep, soulful eyes?

(But Abby’s earnest smile unfurls like a ribbon when it falls on Harper, and her eyes tell stories that seem to end at Harper, and Riley knows that in some rudimentary way, Abby has always, and will be always belong to her girlfriend.)

“Dude, we have to stay in touch,” Abby says, the morning after the party, when they run into each other. “I’m gonna need support at the White Christmas party next year. So, I don’t accidentally use the wrong fork and then embarrass myself.”

She laughs, enters her number into Abby’s phone. “I can’t promise I’ll be able to text all the time, because, well — hospital hours. But I will try.”

Harper, standing beside Abby, shoots her a tiny, strained smile. Things will never be great between them; there’s too much spilled blood, and angry tears that lie in this chasm, but this is maybe a tiny start to bring matters back to the way they were when it all started. Polite. Nice.

Abby texts her — “I can’t believe I survived the Caldwells” five days later, and Riley has no idea at the time, but good things are on their way.

*****

“Please, please, please, please, pleeeeease,” Abby begs her over the phone. Riley is pretty sure she’s actually holding her hand out in supplication.

“Can’t you just give her flowers and chocolate like a normal person?”

A dog barks on the other end, and Riley imagines her walking dogs on the streets. “But I know this is something she really, really wants!”

“An obsolete book that’s only found in a bookstore in New York?”

“Yes!” Abby replies. “Wait, hang on. John, tell her how important it is.”

Some muffled noises, then John’s clear, deadpan voice is audible. “Hey Riley,” he says, sounding disinterested as always, “How are — wait, lemme at least ask her how she’s been, how life in New York has been, if there are any cute guys in her hospital—”

Riley stifles a laugh.

“—yeah, yeah, okay. Fine. Riley, this woman really wants it, God knows why. So I’ll be in New York this weekend. I’ll come with you to that store and then bring that book back.”

“So why do I have to come?”

“Because,” Abby sighs, like it should be obvious, “I don’t trust John.”

Weekend. Sleeping in. Riley closes her eyes, whispers a Rest in peace to a previously perfect weekend.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

*****

The woman nearly scares her out of her wits.

She’s split up with a still-woozy-from-his-flight John as he’s set off to find the book, and thumbing through the random paperbacks on the Fiction shelf, when a voice interrupts her musing.

“I wouldn’t recommend that one,” Riley hears, and whirls around, wide-eyed.

A woman steps out of the dark corner, hands held up as if in warning, an apologetic smile on her face. “I’m sorry,” she says, awkwardly, “that I — I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Riley shakes her head, waves a hand to tell her it’s alright. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Oh, you know, the usual. Pretentious. Definitely sat with a thesaurus. Too many men.”

The tiny detective that sits at the back of head, the one that registers women, and says “It’s elementary, Watson” every time it sees behavior that might be not-heterosexual, goes off with a ding.

“Too many men is a problem,” she admits, wryly, broadcasting her own message in case there was a willing audience. I’m gay I’m gay I’m gay. “What would you suggest?”

The woman steps into the light, slow enough so Riley knows she’s going to enter her personal space. She picks out a book from the top shelf easily, holds it out in front of her.

This close, Riley can’t help but stare. She’s taller, with dark hair that falls just past her shoulders. She’s wearing thick glasses, and behind that, her eyes are tiny and smiling. Riley smiles back, a little awkwardly. Looks at the book, then laughs.

“Sorry,” the woman chuckles, pointing to the copy of Midnight Sun that she’s just handed over, “Little joke.”

They’re still smiling at each other, when John ruins it all by exclaiming “Maya!” from behind her. And that’s when Riley discovers how easy it is to manufacture meet-cutes. And that she really, really hates Abby Holland.

*****

“How dare you?”

Abby sighs on the other end. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

John, who is currently scarfing down a hotdog, mumbles his apologies into the speaker.

“I tried.”

“You didn’t even try,” Abby retorts. “What was the one thing I told you? Don’t let her on to the fact that you know Maya. And what did you do?”

“My best.”

Riley snatches it from him. “Don’t you think it’s a little weird of you to be setting up your girlfriend’s ex-girlfriend with your friend?”

(Just saying the whole thing aloud makes her head hurt)

“Harper doesn’t mind,” Harper’s reserved yet slightly amused voice comes, a little muffled. “Because Harper thinks it’s hilarious.”

There had been three rules, three rules that she had laid out for Abby at the very beginning, when their friendship was still in its tentative stages. One, no weird conversations about Harper. Two, no weird medical questions about fingers. And three, no setting Riley up on blind dates.

Riley had dodged Abby’s attempts to break rule number three about five times already.

(Who knew one could have so many single, willing and Sapphic friends in New York city? Part of Riley was annoyed; the other part was impressed)

“It’s not going to happen, you hear me?” she enunciates. “Absolutely not.”

*****

Riley doesn’t know why she’s back at the bookstore.

Well, she does. Officially, that is. As she had told John already, she hated the idea of things being so awkward, and that Maya must’ve felt that she was rude for clamming up after the whole story came to light, and that she definitely ought to go clear things up with her, let her know very politely that it wasn’t in the cards. John had uh-huh-ed and mm-hmm-ed and nodded until she got annoyed at herself for overexplaining. It was simply a courtesy call, that’s all. Nothing more, nothing else.

(If part of the reason she wants to go back is because, after a long, long time, she went to sleep with someone’s face in the back of her mind that night, kept replaying that certain someone’s voice over and over, it is none of John’s business. Or Abby’s, for that matter.)

It was crazy. Crazy. They’d had one conversation, and part of it had been after Riley had found out she was supposed to be set up, and thus had been filled with Maya trying to ease things over. There was no reason she needed to be thinking this much about someone.

(Not that she was. Thinking that much. About a woman. Just a regular amount)

“So wait, let me get this straight,” Maya looks right at her, “You came all this way to tell me that you don’t want to go on a date with me?”

Well now Riley just feels stupid. “Yes.”

Maya tilts her head a little. “Okay,” she says, “Just out of curiosity, what’s your problem with being set up with people?”

Oh, this she can answer. “One, the general awkwardness with your friends if it doesn’t work out,” she ticks off on her fingers. “Two, too much pressure to make it work. Three, I’m not—”

“—yes?”

Lovable. Bearable. Worth it.

“—looking to date?”

“What qualifies as a date to you, though?”

“A meal shared with romantic intent. Holding doors open, pulling chairs out. You know, the drill.”

Maya seems to be mulling it over. “Alright,” she says, nodding slowly. “What if.... what if two people were to spend time together with no food, no holding doors open or pulling chairs out? Technically that wouldn’t be a date, would it?”

Riley has to bite at the inside of her cheek to smother the smile that’s threatening to set up home on her lips.

“No,” she replies, “It wouldn’t.”

*****

This is what not-dating Maya is like.

It’s tired half-hour phone conversations at odd hours of the day. Riley doesn’t have a lot of time free, but she doesn’t go to sleep without talking to her at least once. She falls asleep to Maya nerding out about the books she’s read, about how she wants to own a gay café, about how she saw the ugliest shirt on a discount store window, bought it, and couldn’t wait to put it on. Wakes up to texts that read “Okay I know you fell asleep but I can’t, so I’m just gonna rant about random shit you can read about when you’re up, okay?” followed by some inane discussion on whether her pillow would be a salad or a sandwich if it could be eaten. It’s stumbling on the streets, half-carrying a drunk Maya as she navigates the confusing maze of New York avenues, and insists on having pizza wherever she goes. It’s bright smiles shot across coffee shops, tired rants before bed. It’s easy.

It’s so easy that Riley has no idea what to do.

“Can you keep a secret?” she asks John on the phone, right before she tells him what’s been happening the past month.

To his credit, he listens to the whole thing before he says something monumentally stupid.

“A whole month and you haven’t had sex? I thought you had game.”

“Oh, fuck off. It’s not like that.”

“You don’t want to have sex with her?”

She’s blushing. “I — I do,” she says, feeling hot all over at the very thought. “I just — it’s not — not what’s important.”

“No, I mean, seriously” he says. “What do you guys even do? Stare at each other’s faces all day?”

“I wish I could stare at her face all day,” she says, before she’s even thinking about it. “Her face is all.... nice. Pretty. Oh God.”

“Oh God is right, darling,” he sounds amused. “You got it bad.”

“I do not — got it bad.”

“You do.”

“I do not — ugh fine.”

“Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that you do got it,” he proposes. “What are you going to do about it?”

Riley takes a deep breath, lets it out. She has no answer to that.

*****

The next day, Maya says, sheepishly — “I guess you finally told Abby, huh?”

“Wait, what?” she’s confused. “Told her what?”

Maya blinks, awkwardly, waves a hand between them. Realization dawns.

“I told John!” Riley tells her, furiously. “That asshole must have told her.”

Maya shrugs a shrug that seems to convey how stupid it was to trust John with keeping secrets from Abby of all people.

“But also,” Riley frowns, “I thought you must have told her already.”

“Nah, I hadn’t.”

“Why not?”

Maya shrugs again, hands in her pockets. “I didn’t know if you wanted her to know.”

And see, it’s this consideration that leaves her lacking for words. Maya is effortlessly considerate, to the point where she wouldn’t say something even if it was bothering her. She’s constantly putting Riley’s needs in front of her own, constantly worried about how she feels and Riley is just. She’s just—

(The word grateful, smitten pops into her head. Refuses to exit)

“You’re nice,” she says, because other adjectives would be too revealing. You’re amazing. You’re beautiful. You’re probably the light of my life.

“I’m only nice to you, Riley,” Maya admits, very frankly. Riley kind of wants to ask her why that is. She’s kind of scared to ask her why that is.

*****

“Just ask her out, already, jeez.”

“I — I can’t,” she tells Abby, sitting at the park, phone in her hand.

“You like her,” Abby states. “She likes you. I don’t see what the problem is.”

“She likes me?” Riley asks, knowing that she’s probably giving away all her hope in her voice.

(Okay, in some weird, convoluted way, she knows Maya likes her already. She’s not completely useless, contrary to popular lesbian stereotype. Just an—

“-Idiot,” she hears, a deadpan chastisement that she rolls her eyes at, “What are you even waiting for?”

“I — I’m not — I don’t know, okay? I’m not—”

The ghosts of her ex-girlfriends in the background, go — Good at being emotionally available. Good at being committed. Good at loving people. Good.

Abby stays quiet.

“I don’t think I can make her happy,” Riley says, finally.

There’s the sound of a sigh on the other end. “What if you already do?”

*****

“Again,” she says, as she’s walking backwards, “I am so, so sorry.”

Maya, who has been waiting for her to get done with her surgeries since two hours now, and will probably have to wait another couple of them, waves her phone in the air, laughs. “I’ll read a book until you get back, okay? Go do your thing.”

She’s on an ob-gyn rotation, but thankfully, the delivery goes smoothly. And a good thing it is, because her head is all over the place. Two warring factions are on a rampage — one that’s raring to go tell the girl of Riley’s dreams that she is, in fact, that girl of Riley’s dreams, and the other equally strong battalion that is standing there with flags raised, flags that read – But what if it goes wrong?

Here’s the second thing about Riley: Love barely ever goes right around her.

Oh, she’s dated people before. Loved them, adored them. And yet, things always start falling apart after a while, start shattering into pieces. Honestly, she doesn’t even blame them. Who wants someone who barely has time to talk for an hour because she’s almost always busy, who is ridiculously tired most days, and barely has the time or energy to grow a relationship?

(So it will happen when it happens, but also, when it happens, Riley has a tendency of scrambling for cover)

She walks into the main hall with the paperwork, and stands at the nurses’ station, lets out a deep breath.

“Your girl tuckered out an hour ago,” Shaqueel tells her, leaning against the table, casually interested. She can see the rest of the nurses leaning in for better quality audio.

“Not my girl,” she tells him, fighting to keep a straight face.

“Really?” Julie asks, face resting on her elbow, an expression Riley can only describe as sappy on her face. “Because she would like to be, that’s for sure.”

Riley turns to Danny. “I told you to make sure none of these,” she waves a hand towards all of them, “busybodies talk to her!”

He shrugs. “What can I say? They were determined.”

“Useless,” she says, already walking away. There’s so much damage control to be done.

Danny texts her a “She’s a keeper”, as she’s walking, and even though she’s mad at all of them, part of her is inclined to agree.

*****

Maya is sleeping.

Riley knows the tone in which she’s thinking this is certainly not the one two strictly platonic buddies would take while referring to each other and yet the tenderness seeps in, anyways. She looks at the hair falling over her askew glasses and wants to brush it off; looks at her dozing with her mouth open and the sight is such a perfect mixture to utterly absurd and adorable that she wants to wake up to it in the morning. Every day.

She takes a deep breath, presses at all of her wants and urges until they’re packed, once again, in the already filled box related to all things Maya in her head. Kneels so she’s almost at her level, and gently taps Maya on the shoulder.

(Waking up comes as beautifully to Maya as do all things, and Riley is most definitely an idiot in love)

“I’m sorry I fell asleep,” she says, softly, her eyes still squinty from the last remnants of her nap.

“Don’t apologize,” Riley replies, equally as soft. “I fall asleep all the time on the phone.”

“Eh, you save babies. It’s alright.”

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting so long.”

“Riley,” Maya tells her, very seriously. “I would wait a lot longer for you.”

(And because being stupid is a fundamental quality of Riley being in love, there’s absolutely no way she isn’t swooning at that, inside)

She’s sleepy and tired and stupid right now, so it’s probably coloring her judgement, but she’s done caring. Riley Johnson is not letting this one get away.

“Would you,” she starts, slowly, “consider waiting two more days so you can take me out to a fancy restaurant on Saturday?”

There’s a light in Maya’s eyes that she can only classify as hope. “Depends. Would you open the door for me and pull my chair out?”

Riley’s smiling so wide her cheeks hurt. “Absolutely.”

“Well, then,” Maya says, leaning in, “It’s about fucking time.”

#happiest season #fanfiction #riley owns my heart #okay so this comes out of my intense need to give riley her own happy ending because the woman was a freaking angel #and its kinda all over the place so there #also im convinced john and riley would be the best of friends #and maya just looks like elizabeth olsen to me idky

9 notes · View notes

yoonjinkooked · 5 years ago

Text

Daddy Day Care | Chapter 1

pairing; jungkook/female OC genre; fluff, romcom, smutty in the future, Dad!Jungkook rating; explicit (IN FUTURE CHAPTERS ONLY, not yet) words; total so far (4752)

— synopsis; Jeongguk is your average 25-year-old - job, work, friends - everything regular. Except, he has a 5 year old daughter. And he’s single. Until a “princess” waltzes into his life.

warnings for this chapter: You will want to have Jungkook’s children. Eunmi is adorkable. SlutJin. Banter. Cursing. Oh and I borrowed two Mamamoo members for this story too.

CHAPTER 1

words; 3503

“Your hair looks weird, dad.”

I open my eyes, only to find Eunmi just a few inches away from me, eyes glued to the top of my head. Her cheeks are puffy, telling me she woke up minutes ago. Of course she did – she can’t sit still for minutes. I look behind her, at the clock and sigh, confirming my suspicions.

“It’s 6:30AM Eunmi. Why?” I grunt.

“I was bored,” she shrugs. “Your hair really looks weird, dad. Can we have bacon for breakfast?”

“Breakfast can wait a little bit,” I reach for her and snuggle her on top of me. “Now you’re gonna cuddle with dad for a while.”

“You just want to sleep more, not cuddle,” she laughs at me.

“No,” I laugh, squishing her closer to my chest. “But I always want to cuddle with my little girl.”

“No, you just want to sleep.”

“You’re five, you shouldn’t be this smart.”

“That’s your and mom’s fault,” I can feel her shrugging her tiny shoulders. “Are we going to see Uncle Jin today? Will he come over?”

“I’m pretty sure Uncle Jin is busy today honey, it’s a Sunday,” I sigh, knowing damn well that Jin is most definitely recovering from the night before. Almost six years ago, around the time when I found out that Eunmi was on her way into my world, I have accepted that Jin and I have changed our roles completely.

I’m the younger brother – I should be the one partying and fucking random girls while Jin should be the one who’s spending his nights looking up Youtube tutorials on how to make different kinds of braids, because he was working like an idiot all day to be able to pay for pre-school.

“Uncle Jin is never busy enough for me,” Eunmi concludes and honestly, she isn’t wrong. At this point in Jin’s life, Eunmi might just be the only other female apart from our mom that Jin actually cares for. Much like every adult in her near vicinity, she has him wrapped around her tiny pinky.

“You’re really not gonna let me sleep, are you?” I ask, ruffling her hair a little bit.

“Nope,” she announces. “I love you.”

“I love you too honey,” I laugh, already accepting that I’m really going to have to get up at 6:30. “So what is it that you wanna eat? Bacon? And what else?”

“Just bacon is good.”

She resembles me too much.

With a grunt, I get up and let her drag me to the kitchen. It took her less time to eat the bacon than it took me to prepare it. I smile as I focus on the cup in my hands, watching her run over to the living room and plant herself in front of the TV.

Cartoons and coffee can save any dad’s life. I get to have my caffeine medicine while Eunmi’s eyes are glued to the screen, watching a cartoon she’s probably already seen 10 times before.

I remember I used to be like that too. It didn’t matter how many times I’ve watched it – I would always laugh at the same scenes, same jokes. I don’t think that’s a trait special to me and her – I’m pretty sure every other five year old acts the same. But I only have one attached by the hip, thank god.

Cartoon time also is a good time for parent conversations – the kid is too focused on an animated cat to listen to grown up stuff. Which is exactly why my phone rang at the perfect moment.

“Morning,” I answer the call, pausing to drink my coffee. “Everything okay?”

“Yep,” she answers, and I can her she’s running around, doing something around her house. “Did you pick Eunmi up from the birthday party?”

“No, I left her there,” I deadpan. “See, I knew I was missing something but like always, sleep was simply more important.”

“Not funny, jackass,” she still laughs. “Did Jinyoung’s mom bug you again?”

“Why did I even tell you about that?” I sigh, regretting it again, for the hundredth time. More often than not, I say things without thinking and again, more often than not, I end up regretting it greatly.

“Because you were too scared to pick Eunmi up from a play date and you asked me to do it,” she laughs at me. “But seriously, if that woman keeps bugging you, you need to do something about it.”

“I sent in Namjoon to pick her up along with Jiyoo while I waited outside,” I admit.

“How very grown up and mature of you Jungkook.”

“I’d like to see you if Jinyoung’s dad offered to-“

“Okay, okay, enough,” she laughs. “Did she have fun?”

“I spent 30 minutes trying to get the face paint off of her face, you tell me,” I sigh, remembering that I have to wash half of the bathroom today before it remains colored.

“Yep, I know enough. I was going to ask you something. Can you take care of her for the next for days straight? I’ll be in Taiwan until Wednesday, my boss called me last night, he needs a translator and the bastard is too cheap to pay for one, so he just assumes I’d volunteer to do it. If you can’t do it, I’ll drop her off at mom and dad’s.”

“No, it’s okay,” I tell her, mentally going over my plans for this week. “I don’t have anything other than work this week so it’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” she checks.

“Yuki, she’s my kid too,” I laugh. “Not a plant that’s a nuisance to water.”

“I know but we planned it differently and I don’t want to be unfair,” she sighs.

“Yuki, don’t worry about it, okay?” I interrupt her, not wanting her to feel bad about this. “We have joint custody for a reason. It’s not the first time we’ve changed plans. If I couldn’t do it, I’d tell you.”

“Thanks,” she sighs in relief. “It’s just so annoying. I’m still trying to find a better company.”

“I know you are,” I mumble. “But don’t worry about it. We could co-parent for five years without any major issues. So just relax, do your trip and you can pick her up when you come back.”

“Can I talk to her? What’s she’s doing?”

“Well, I’m not sure – Tom and Jerry might be more interesting than you are, but I’ll check,” I can hear her cursing me. “Eunmi, come on, Mom wants to talk to you.”

Of course, she runs and drops the cartoon instantly. I laugh at her as she starts talking about everything that she wants us to do while Mom is away on a business trip. It might be bitter-sweet for Yuki to listen to, since she’ll be stuck in business meetings for four whole days, but what can she do?

As long as Eunmi doesn’t suffer, I’m okay with everything. She wasn’t even a year old when Yuki and I called it quits, so she can’t remember – if she can’t remember, she can’t miss it. Despite that, both Yuki and I have been bending over backwards to try and compensate for the fact that she’s growing up with separated parents.

That’s what I admire about Yuki. Our love died a very long time ago, but not once did she let it stop her from being a good mom and just a decent human being. If I was the only one being like that, I don’t even want to imagine how that would feel like.

There are horrible parents left and right. Dads that don’t care about their kids, don’t pay alimony, don’t spend enough time with them. Moms that don’t let dads see their kids, moms more focused on themselves and not their kid. I’ve seen a lot of that from the nuts parents I sometimes have to socialize with – the only normal group are Namjoon and Yoongi hyung and their wives. And while Yuki and I are not exactly the ideal example, we’re doing a damn good job.

Both of us managed to graduate while having a baby and not being together. Both of us have decent jobs. Both of us can put differences aside and work together for our little girl.

Would it be easier if we were together? Surely. But love died. We weren’t for each other and we were absolutely not ready for being parents. But we managed. Somehow, we managed. Maybe our relationship was the price we paid for that but hell, I’d pay it again.

As long as Eunmi doesn’t suffer in any way, I’m good.

“And then we’re going to watch ‘Frozen’,” Eunmi rolls her eyes. “Yes, again. Okay. Okay. I love you too mom. Here’s dad,” she gives me the phone back, not pausing for a second before running off to the TV.

“All good?” I ask Yuki.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna miss her,” she sighs.

“It’s four days, not four years. You’ll live.”

“You cried the first time I took her with me after a weekend with you,” Yuki points out.

“We do not talk about that,” I remind her.

“You’re a pain in the ass but you’re one hell of a dad,” she chuckles. “Take care of her, call me if you need anything and don’t forget to give her vitamins. Two in-“

“In the morning,” I laugh. “Again, I’m her father, not her babysitter. Relax, deep breaths and have a safe trip. You can call whenever, facetime her.”

“Thanks Kook, I’ll call you guys tonight.”

“Talk to you then,” I end the call, finishing the rest of my coffee in one gulp. “Come on Eunmi, we need to get you dressed,” I announce.

“Where are we going?” her tiny little face lights up. No wonder, the kid is a firecracker. A type of kid that likes pirates more than princesses, but still asks to watch Frozen. A kid that will try to climb a tree but then run to me in tears if she scrapes her knee. She loves an adventure but often regrets it.

“We’re going to wake Uncle Jin up,” I laugh when I see how big her smile became. She loves Uncle Jin just as much as she loves me, if not more. “He might be hungover, but Uncle duties are calling him.”

“Okay,” she grabs my hand and I take her to her room, to find some clothes for today. “Dad?”

“Hmm?”

“What does hungover mean?”

Shit.

...

I check once again, leaning over to look at her sleepy face. Sure enough, her lips are parted as she snuggles into the pillow that’s almost as big as her.

Slowly, I close the door, careful not to rouse her awake – if she doesn’t get her afternoon nap, Eunmi gets cranky. Uber cranky. Super, mega, ultra uber cranky. She’s a true angel for 95% of the time but the 5%? Good lord have mercy on my soul.

So yeah, she needs to nap and we need to be quiet.

“She’s out,” I tell Seokjin in a low voice as I join him back in the living room, laughing when I see him looking as if he’s going to fall asleep at any given second. He is one step away from turning into that Tom&Jerry gif where the cat is putting toothpicks between his eyelids to keep his eyes open. “Your night was rougher than usual, I see?”

“Yes indeed,” he grunts as he sinks deeper down the couch. “I had to do my strut of shame halfway from across the town.”

“Why didn’t you just sleep over?” I ask as I make a place for myself on the armchair, also known as the most uncomfortable armchair in the history of mankind. Jin has a thing for fancy, modern furniture, which means that every surface in his apartment is sharp and black, including said armchair.

“Because I’ve found out a bit too late that she has a boyfriend.”

“Ouch.”

“Not really,” he shrugs. “She’s the one who cheated, not me. I didn’t know. I just didn’t want to stick around and get my ass kicked because she’s a cheater.”

“How long do you think you’ll be able to keep up with this, huh?” I ask, out of pure curiosity. I have no right to judge him but I have the right to try to understand. “You’re 28 and you can’t settle down.”

“Why should I?” he asks, and honestly, his question is as good as mine.

“I’m just wondering how you’re not tired of that?” I shrug. “I mean, your life is always the same. It’s been the same for years. Random girls every weekend. I get that it can be fun every now and then but all the time? Don’t you just get tired of it?”

“I do get tired. And when I get tired, I don’t go out,” he shrugs his shoulders, closing his eyes and sighing as he makes himself more comfortable on the couch. “Settling down isn’t always ideal. Look at you.”

“What’s wrong with me?” I ask and judging by the snort Jin lets out, a lot of things are wrong with me. “Say what you want to say about my life but Eunmi is the best possible thing that could have happened to me.”

“I never said anything about Eunmi,” Jin sits up suddenly, glaring at me. “That little girl is the best thing that happened to me and she’s only my niece. Plus she’s way cooler than you are.”

“She’s five,” I roll my eyes. “And if you didn’t refer to her, what did you refer to?”

“Settling down didn’t really work out for you, did it?” he lets a chuckle. “You have the sweetest kid on the entire planet and you’re a good dad – but what about you? You had Yuki and you wanted to settle down, now you’ve been single for 4 years. Your amazing dad skills have absolutely nothing to do with your inability to get your dick wet.”

“Okay, you’re exaggerating,” I deadpan. “I did go on a few dates and I did have sex with-“

“It was two years ago!” he yells at me and I shush him, not wanting him to wake Eunmi up. He rolls his eyes but when he continues talking, his voice is lowered. “It was two years ago Kookie. I get it, I really do. Eunmi has been your priority since day one, as she should be. But you’re 25 years old Jungkook. 25. You should have a life. I get that co-parenting with an ex isn’t easy and I know you have better things to do most of the time, but when will you ever think about yourself? What are you gonna do, be alone until Eunmi goes to college?”

“If that’s what happens, I’m okay with it,” I confirm it, causing Jin to shake his head in what appears to be disappointment. “It’s just not happening Jin. It’s not happening. I don’t have time to go and meet people. I work and I get home and I’m tired and I do have hobbies. And whenever I have a day off, I am with my daughter because no matter what happens, she comes first. There’s no time to go out and date and be a regular 25-year-old because regular 25-year-olds don’t have daycare to pay for and a college fund to save for and tea parties to have on weekends with stuffed and fuzzy rabbits!”

“It’s that way because you want it to be that way.”

“No, it’s that way because it happened that way,” I tell him. “None of this was planned. We never planned on having Eunmi but when we got her, god, I was the happiest man alive. I never planned of doing this whole co-parenting shit – but it happened. I didn’t think I’d ever break it off with Yuki, especially not after we had a kid but it happened. It’s the way it is and I’m fine with it because no matter what I do in life, Eunmi will always be the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“I’m not saying that she isn’t,” Jin rolls his eyes. “I’m saying that every now and then, you need to remind yourself that you’re not just a dad, but also a guy. A regular guy.”

“I don’t have time to be a regular guy!”

“Then make it!” Jin all but yells at me again, earning another glare. “This Friday. Yuki will be back from the trip, she’ll want to be with Eunmi, you don’t work weekends. You have no excuse. This weekend, you and I are going out, you’re going to get laid and come Saturday morning, back to being a Dad you go.”

“Hyung-“

“Don’t hyung me,” Jin glares at me. “Or yes, hyung me. I’m you’re hyung and you will listen. You will go out and have fun and find a random girl and remember that you’re more than just a dad.”

I know that he has a point, I truly do. Just that when I say I don’t have time, I really don’t have time. Not the time, nor the energy and not even the opportunity to meet someone.

But he has me now. Eunmi will be with Yuki this weekend and I have no good excuse up my sleeve.

“Fine.”

…

“But dad!”

I laugh at her whining – she even went the extra length and stomped her little foot on the ground.

We’re having a cranky morning, that’s for sure – when I did her hair, I thought she might just bite my hand off. She was sulky during the drive and now she doesn’t want to go to go into the kindergarten.

“Don’t but me,” I warn her, feeling fatherly pride when she doesn’t react in any way – I have zero authority in me so it’s nice to see that at least my five year old is buying it. “You have to go to kindergarten, sweetie. And I have to go to work. You know I’d much rather spend time with you but kindergarten is non-negotiable.”

“What does non-negotble mean?”

I do my best to hide my smile at her mispronunciation, not wanting to hurt her feelings. “It means you do what I say.”

“But dad!”

“But Eunmi!” I whine, laughing when her frown turns into a scolding one. “We’ll do something super fun when we get home. I promise. Now run along.”

“You’re very mean today but I still love you,” she announces before turning around and running into the building.

“I love you too!” I yell after her. I’m mean. Wow. I suppose I’d better get used to it, I’m pretty sure she’s going to hate me when she gets to her teens. The joy of parenthood no one warns you about.

“She isn’t feeling you today, is she?” I turn around, startled for a second, only to realize it’s Hyejin, waving at her daughter as she follows Eunmi into the school.

“Nope, she isn’t,” I laugh. “I honestly don’t know how you and Namjoon plan to handle two,” I chuckle, remembering how both of them told me that they’re planning on at least two.

“Ah, step by step my sweet, summer child,” she laughs as she gets on her tiptoes to ruffle my hair. “Leave your Saturday free, you’re coming over to our place. We’re celebrating me getting older yet again.”

“I still have to see if Eunmi will be with Yuki all weekend or if-“

“Bring her too,” Hyejin laughs. “The kids can have a sleepover while the few of us drink, eat and complain about anything and everything.”

“You sure? I have a lot to complain about.”

“We all do, my sweet summer child,” she does it again, ruffles my hair as if I’m an actual kid. Well, compared to her I just might be. They’re only a few years older than I am but she and Namjoon have their life under complete control. Control that I can only hope to have one day.

“Fine,” I agree, knowing that this outing won’t be as wild as whatever Jin has planned. “What should I bring you? Any special birthday wishes?”

“Nothing, anything,” she shrugs and walks away, before stopping suddenly after just two steps. “Just don’t get me anything with my age written on it. We’re not talking about that.”

“Deal,” I laugh and wave at her as I get into my car.

I brace myself for the work day ahead. I brace myself for the afternoon of watching Frozen or something I have already seen 20 times before. I brace myself for Friday, despite knowing absolutely nothing can prepare me for Jin’s antics. And now I even have to brace myself for Saturday, when I’m expected to socialize with grown adults and act like I belong there.

I don’t. I might have a job, I might have a kid and yeah, my age is there but nope.

I just have no idea what I’m doing. I’m stuck in the permanent state of ‘winging it’.

What a life.

#bts scenarios #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook scenarios #jungkook series #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook smut #bts parent #single dad jungkook #bts #bts jungkook #bangtan #bangtan smut #bts jjk #jjk

922 notes · View notes

jovialyouthmusic · 5 years ago

Text

Silver Service

At last Bastien has Anton in his sights

Word Count 3352

A/N There is a lot of action in this chapter - firearms are used and some are injured, but there are no graphic descriptions. Whole series is not suitable for under 18s

12 Just Desserts?

‘So as you see, we need to know numbers so we can accommodate the Court’ Gladys said as she lead him along the corridors of the first floor, swinging wide door after door to various guest rooms. ‘His Majesty can have the master suite, which has been thoroughly cleaned and renovated since the Duchess passed away’. Eventually she came to a door at the end of a corridor and turned to him.

‘This part is closed off, I’m afraid’ Her tone was apologetic ‘It may look sound from the outside, but dry rot has been found in the supporting timbers so it’s out of bounds until it can be repaired.’ Damien made a mental note – perhaps this was a ruse and she had something to hide.

‘Well it’s certainly an impressive building’ he said admiringly. ‘The walls are thick – are there any secret passages I should know about?’ He pitched his voice to make it appear a joke, but he saw Gladys blanch slightly before laughing.

‘Oh no, nothing like that, although there is a priest hole in the part that’s blocked off. It’s the oldest part of the building’ She turned and they made their way back along the corridor.

‘So I hear the Duchess was quite a character’ He saw her shoulders tense slightly

‘She certainly was a taskmaster’ she replied ‘To be frank, I’m relieved she’s gone, it was very challenging trying to keep her happy. She had mental health issues, but she refused to take medical advice’

‘I’ve not worked with Royalty before’ Damien replied ‘King Liam seems a nice enough person, but those born into wealth and privilege can’t understand things the way most ordinary folk do’ he probed gently, attempting to sound out her loyalties. She gave a hollow laugh

‘And don’t I know it’ she replied ‘Honestly, she genuinely thought we’d been born specifically to serve her and not question her eccentricity’ He made a sympathetic noise.

‘A lot of rich and famous folk in the States are exactly the same. I worked with a few celebrities who’d be right at home in the Court’ he said ‘But I’m not here to complain about the folk who pay me’ he grinned, satisfied that she might be easily influenced by the Sons of the Earth.

‘Well, I must admit the pay cheque is some compensation, she was oddly generous. I think she didn’t really understand the value of money and I’m glad she wasn’t a skinflint.’ Gladys replied as she lead him into her office. They perused some schematics of the grounds to work out parking arrangements and staging for the lantern release. There wasn’t enough time to bring in any heavy duty staging, so they had to work with what they had available.

‘I’m afraid I have to ask about your security arrangements too’ he said ‘the King’s Guard need to know what’s in place before they bring his Majesty in. I have full authorisation to evaluate any weak spots and work out what might be needed to make sure he is safe, though that of course will be up to Captain Lykel’ He saw a shadow cross her face

‘Of course. We didn’t need anything elaborate, despite the Duchess’s dislike of visitors. She relied on keeping the walls and fences well maintained, and the only technology she agreed to was the intercom at the gate.’

‘That’s fine Gladys. If you would email schematics of the house and grounds to Captain Lykel, he’ll make an evaluation’ She nodded uncertainly

‘I’ll do what I can’ she said.

-----

Later on, Damien bid her farewell. He had charmed her and they were on good terms.

‘Are you sure you won’t stay?’ she asked ‘As you saw, we have plenty of room’

‘Thankyou, but I promised to visit some family friends. It’s been a long time since my parents left the country and I’ve a slew of relatives to reconnect with’ He’d thought long and hard about staying, but on balance thought that leaving would bring Anton out of hiding – presuming he was at the manor. The bugs on the luggage could just be sitting in the old locked off wing of the castle and he might have gone elsewhere, but he judged that going back and reporting to Bastien would be a more effective use of his time.

‘She should have emailed plans of the castle to you by now’ he explained to the Captain of the Guard. ‘If you let me look them over I’ll tell you if I think they’re accurate. I think it most likely that if they’re still here, Anton and his men are hiding out in the old wing and plan to stay undetected until the Court arrive. The grounds are extensive but there aren’t any outbuildings they could use that I could see. There’s a stable block that’s unused but it’s not big enough to house anything of any use’

‘I have some plans from a couple of decades ago’ Bastien mused ‘Let’s compare them for any discrepancies. If you go back you could check with her for any additions or renovations – but I think we’re ready to go in. The sooner we move the more advantage we have’

‘Gladys told me that the Duchess relied on keeping the perimeter sound, but it looks like there’s an old entrance that’s not been used for years’

‘We’ve already done a sweep, it’s an old wooden door in the walls, locked and bolted, but the hinges are rotten. The vegetation is challenging, she appears to have only cared about the portion of the grounds she could see from the Manor. Our neighbour Monterisso have some excellent stealth tech that they loaned us for this operation, and we sent a spy drone in as low as we dared. It shouldn’t have been noticed on the ground, it’s whisper quiet and damn near invisible.’ He sat up and straightened his jacket.

‘Time to brief everyone. We move at midnight’

------

‘So the whole damn court is coming here in less than 48 hours’ Anton mused ‘I was planning on striking at Applewood, but this is too good to miss. All we have to do is sit and wait for them to come to us’

‘It does seem too good to be true. Are we sure it’s not a trap?’ Claudius asked cautiously, but Anton waved his hand.

‘They have no idea of this little bolthole, they don’t even know we’re in the country’

‘But that American that snuck around this afternoon saying his parents were Cordonian…’

‘I thought the same, but the accent tied in with his story’ Anton said dismissively. ‘The lantern festival is a fixed date so it’s to be expected they’ll be scrambling to get the place ready, and the Americans have little or no interest in who runs Cordonia as long as they continue to trade with them’

‘As long as the housekeeper kept her mouth shut’ Claudius glowered

‘Of course she did, she’s right in my pocket. I spun her a sob story about how cruel Constantine was to my parents – which is exactly the case, I just threw in the hearts and flowers. She’ll cooperate with us, and I can deal with Lykel when the boy King’s been disposed of.’

‘There’s not many of us though’ Claudius cautioned ‘The Guard will be on full alert’

‘You forget the secret passageways. We can get hold of the King anytime we like with a full guard right outside his door. As soon as he’s dealt with we can invoke the clause of succession and I’ll be on the throne along with the Nevrakis woman. She’s a bit skinny for my liking, but she has spirit. My lawyer has the papers and is ready to make the announcement as soon as I call him’ He yawned and stretched. ‘I’d better get some sleep. Tomorrow we make our plans, and then Liam will walk right into our grasp.’

------

On the stroke of midnight, the Guard entered the grounds of the manor through the old oak door, quickly and quietly. They moved cautiously, using the drone with infra red sensors to check for security patrols. None had been in evidence when Damien had visited, but that was to be expected. Only one man was detected, and was swiftly captured and silenced. Next, two groups infiltrated the Manor, one through the staff entrance which had been left unlocked for night staff, and another through the conservatory. Frightened staff were rounded up and corralled in the staff dining room with a man to guard them in case anyone not loyal to the Crown decided to warn Anton, if indeed he was still there.

Bastien monitored it all from the surveillance van which had been moved to the perimeter of the Manor grounds, as they didn’t expect to meet much resistance. Although the manor was a good size, Damien had been able to ascertain that the bedrooms he had been shown were all unused, and the part that was closed off could not house more than half a dozen men. It was risky not knowing if Anton was there and how many men he had, but that was outweighed by the advantage of surprise.

Damien confronted Gladys, tight lipped and angry at the intrusion. He explained the situation and reluctantly she revealed that the manor did indeed house a number of Anton’s sympathisers. The Duchess had allowed him space for his operations, but she swore it was only a resting place for him – there was another bigger location, though she did not know its whereabouts. It appeared he and the other two men had arrived from Monaco and had planned to move on before he had learned of the charity tour coming to the manor. There were three other men resident at the manor, one of which Damien knew they had already neutralised on their way in. That left Anton, Claudius and three others to track down.

The numbers and the element of surprise were all with them, and Damien lead a team to the first floor of the blocked off section of the manor, which Gladys admitted was not damaged. Another group went in at ground level. He took a deep breath before he carefully opened the door to the corridor beyond.

-------

Anton woke to a rough shake and a cautioning hand on his mouth, and he sat bolt upright without a sound. Claudius stood by his bedside, picking up a torch from the bedside where he had left it to wake him.

‘Get dressed fast, we have company’ he hissed in a low tone.

‘Shit’ he swore ‘How the fuck…’

‘Never mind how, just get some clothes on. Preston and Parks will hold them off, we need to move’

‘We should stand and fight’ he blustered as he grabbed some clothes.

‘We don’t know how many there are. They must have taken out at least one of us to get into the house.’ He went to the door to listen while Anton struggled into pants, sweater, socks and shoes, thanking his lucky stars he slept naked. It had given him valuable seconds. He heard a noise in the corridor outside – voices and a scuffle.

‘For the King! Severus, come out with your hands up.’ was the loud proclamation.

‘Shit, if it’s the Guard they’ll have more than one team.’ He snarled in anger, but Claudius was opening the window and beckoning him over. Swiftly he went across, now hearing gunshots outside. Claudius was scrambling down the vine that grew up the wall to gutter height, and he followed, cursing. He looked out across the lawn and saw a glint in the moonlight in mid air.

‘Fuck, they’ve got a drone’ Claudius swore. ‘I’ll shoot it down and we can run for it. Make for the stables, there’s a car there’ He hit the ground and aimed into the air. A shot rang out, followed by a curse, then another shot. Anton looked toward the stables and they ran together, hearing the whir of the drone’s rotors. Claudius had hit it but it stayed aloft, no longer silent. Anton heard shouts from the manor and looked back to see someone following them, hitting the lawn and racing toward them at breakneck speed.

‘Interpol, stop or I’ll shoot’ he heard the figure shout as he ran. By this time they were at the stables and Claudius turned to fire at their pursuer. Anton fumbled with the door latch and heard a shot and a grunt close by as the door swung open. He saw Claudius stumble and fall, before regaining his feet and lunging after him. A third man was making his way to the car from the house, obviously one of his men, firing at the Interpol man, who threw himself to the ground and rolled toward a bush.

‘Keys - glove compartment’ Claudius gasped. Anton flung himself into the car and rummaged for the key before locating it in the ignition and turning it. Claudius got into the passenger side, blood staining his shirt in the dim light of the dashboard, the other man getting into the back seat. Claudius and he wound down the windows ready to shoot as the engine roared into life. Anton turned the headlights on full to dazzle anyone trying to get to them, and burst out of the stables to barrel off down the drive. He heard shots hitting the car from the Interpol operative – and maybe more.

‘The gates’ grunted Claudius, pain in his voice ‘We’ll have to ram them. They’ll have them closed and covered’

‘Interpol?’ growled Anton ‘Lykel must have called them in, damn him’ They careered along the driveway toward the presumably locked gates. There were no other vehicles blocking the way and no obvious presence, but armed men could be hidden nearby. There was no choice – this was the only exit. Anton rammed the gates and Claudius gasped in pain at the impact, the third man bracing himself so he could shoot if needed. The gates didn’t budge. He tried again without success, and screamed with frustration. He flung the door open and dropped out of the car, hugging the ground.

‘Cover me, damn you’ he snarled as he moved toward the gate, and they crouched with their firearms out, using the car doors as shelter. More shots rang out, but Anton had lost a sense of where they came from in his drive to escape. Cursing his lack of a firearm he climbed onto the top of the car and scaled the gates, feeling a sharp stinging pain in his lower leg.

He dropped over onto the road outside - his ankle blossomed into pain and he realised he’d caught a bullet. He ran for his life as best as he could, adrenalin spurring him on. Shouts and more shots rang out followed by a cry of distress, and he crossed the road alone to make for the forest in the hope of shaking his followers. He had almost made it when lights suddenly dazzled him. Just ahead of him was a van, dark in the shadow of the trees on the verge of the road. The headlights had suddenly snapped on full and he stumbled, arm across his eyes against the light. A figure appeared in the harsh blue white light, broad and tall, and he heard a familiar voice. He also heard the cocking of a firearm behind him.

‘Stop, Severus, there’s no place to go’ came Bastien’s voice. He screamed in rage and threw himself at the Captain of the Guard, barrelling into him with all his weight, judging that the gunman behind him wouldn’t shoot for fear of hitting the Captain. It was sheer luck that he caught Bastien’s injured leg and made him stumble, but that was where his luck ran out. Bastien stepped to the side, regaining his balance and sending Anton to the ground. He swiftly followed him down, knee in his back with his full weight. He heard the breath wheeze out of him and twisted his arm up behind him.

‘Let me go’ he panted when he could get his breath ‘You’ll regret this – I should be king - you’ll see. I’ll have you – executed - when I’m crowned’

‘I think not, Severus’ he replied. By now, others were arriving, and he was cuffed and dragged to his feet. ‘It all ends here, you’ll not escape this time’ Bastien assured him. Damien appeared, breathing heavily, Lewis behind him.

‘Mission accomplished, Captain’ Lewis said ‘We’re double checking for any stragglers, but if our information’s right, we have them all. We’ve a couple of gunshot wounds on both sides but everyone’s alive. One of the men by the gate needs an ambulance, he could bleed out’ Bastien frowned at Damien as Anton was lead away.

‘Looks like you were one of the unlucky ones’ he said, pointing at his upper arm. Dazedly, he turned his head to look at his bloodied sleeve.

‘Just a flesh wound’ he said ‘Are you okay?’

‘Not a scratch, Nazario. Thanks for your help, you made our job much easier’

‘That’s what I do’ he grinned ‘Now, do you think Gladys would break out the brandy?’

‘You can go and find out’ Bastien said ‘I have a phone call to make.’

-------

Bastien settled into the seat in the back of the security van. He called up Sophia’s number and barely heard the ring tone before she answered.

‘Bas! Is that you?’ her voice showed no sign of sleepiness despite the fact that it was some time after midnight.

‘Yes theá mou, it’s all over and I’m fine’

‘Are you? Are you really? No gunshot wound, no knife injury, burns, broken bones?’ Her voice was becoming shrill.

‘Perhaps a bruise or two’

‘A bruise? How could you get a bruise in the surveillance van?’ she scolded, frantic with worry. He sighed.

‘Really Sophia, I’m unscathed. I had the pleasure of capturing Anton myself, but only because he came to me’

‘He came to you? Why didn’t you have a lookout?’ she asked incredulously.

‘Theá mou, be calm’ he said soothingly. ‘Breathe, my goddess. Listen to my voice. All is well. Anton scaled the gates to escape and ran in front of the van. He had no weapons, so I stepped out and apprehended him myself. I had armed support, and all is well’ There was a hiccup on the other end, and he realised she was crying, hopefully with relief, though it was hard to tell just by listening.

‘Come back to me, agápe mou’ she pleaded ‘I need to see you – hold you’ He took a deep breath.

‘Sophia, I love you more than life itself’ he pledged ‘I will be with you as soon as I can. Please, try to sleep, you need rest’

‘It was – it was Anton’ she sobbed ‘I was so afraid he’d take you from me’

‘He’ll not escape this time, I promise’ he said ‘Rest, théa mou. I still have tasks to perform’

‘Let Lewis do it’ she said faintly ‘Please. All I can think of is when Anton had me in the dungeon. I need you’

‘Call Drake’ He replied ‘Remember the techniques I taught you. Breathe’ He wondered at what had triggered her, feeling a pang of guilt at the probability that it was his departure. His normally calm and self possessed lover was in distress at the other end of the line. ‘I have to ring off’ he said soothingly. ‘Promise me you’ll call someone to sit with you until I return’

‘O – okay’ she sniffled ‘I’m sorry Bastien. I don’t know why I’m like this’

‘I broke my promise’ he said regretfully ‘I went into the field. This was important, I know you understand in your logical mind, but your emotions are not so easily soothed. I’ll tell Lewis that I’m coming back. Hold on Sophia, I know you’re strong. Be strong for me, my love’

‘Drive carefully’ she said, her voice a little calmer.

Next Chapter 13 Home and Dry?

#silver service #bastien lykel #damien nazario #anton severus #protect and serve #sophia x bastien

35 notes · View notes