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darknessx08 · 10 months ago

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The Specter Context: Michael Savik is a 25-year-old Multi-billionaire owning a Company using machines that can create a synthetic material by just being based on the user's thought. He is engaged to a woman named Lisa and is liked and disliked in his company. This is all about to change in this story.

Prologue: A Disengagement Ring

It was a rainy but, peaceful Friday night. Michael Savik was about to leave Biosmith Industries and was excited to think about how marrying the woman he loved was just 2 weeks away. This would unfortunately change after he left.

Jim: Hey Mike, do you want those Biodroids tested by next week or the week after?

Michael: It doesn’t matter. Those will take time so I'm not worried about when they are finished.

Jim: Sounds good! Also, what’s up with the ring?

Michael: Oh, has nobody told you?

Jim: Tell me what?

Michael: Lisa and I got engaged.

Jim: That’s awesome man! When’s the wedding?

Michael: It's in a few weeks. It’s funny you bring it up cause we were planning on sending the invitations out this week.

Jim: I’ll be sure to come!

They walked to their cars as they continued to discuss.

Michael: Sounds great. I’ll make sure to send yours out first!

Jim: Alright well have a good weekend.

Michael drove home with a happiness he had never felt before. He arrived around 11:30 to see all the lights still on in his house. He was confused because his Fiancee usually goes to sleep an hour earlier. He knocked on the door but, there was not an answer.

Michael: Lisa?

Without an answer, he used the key under the rug to open the door. He was shocked to find his Fiancee half naked and another man hiding under sheets.

Michael: Who the heck is this?!

Lisa: Michael! It’s not what it looks like!

Michael: What do you mean it’s not who it looks like? Who even is he and why is he in my house?!

Lisa: He’s a friend. He stopped by town recently and I just wanted to say hi.

Michael: So you say hello by sleeping with the guy?!

The man stood up with a 6’4 stature against Michael’s 5’11

Stranger: Dude relax. We were just having a nice conversation.

Michael: Get out now!

Lisa: Michael quit overreacting!

Stranger: Hey man, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.

Michael grabbed a glass off the counter and smashed it on the guy's head.

Lisa: What are you doing?

Michael: Leave. And take him with you. I never want to see you again.

Lisa got dressed and helped the man to her car. Michael watched them drive away in disbelief as the woman he loved had cheated on him and hid this act of selfishness behind her fiance's back the entire time.

Chapter 1: Wisdom of the Old

Shortly after this disheartening incident, Michael decided it would be best for him to start working again to ease his mind about the situation. Before this, he decided to stop by his parents' house to say hello. He stepped into his parent's home happy to see them but, the look of dismay was still plain on his face.

Michael: How are y’all doing?

Mom: We are doing great honey. You really do need to visit more.

Michael: Heh, I suppose I do.

Dad: Who cares! Let the boy do whatever he wants! You look tired, did you and Lisa have a couple of premarital drinks last night?

Michael: No, I came to talk to y'all about her.

Mom: Are you trying to get help with getting a venue? If that's the case I know someone who can---

Michael: Mom, no I don’t need your help.

Dad: Oh c’mon your mother has been wanting to help since the wedding was announced!

Michael: Trust me I would but, some things have happened and I need your advice.

Dad: Like with what, how to dance cause during your mother and I’s wedding---

Michael: Dad there is no wedding!

A silence filled the room

Dad: Mike, what are you talking about?

Michael: I got home last night and Lisa was in bed with another guy, the reason I look like this is because I have been up all night wondering what went wrong! Are you happy now?

His parents turned to him with the utmost shock on their faces.

Dad: Sit down. It’s time I told you about my High School life.

Michael: How does that relate at all to this? The woman I loved just betrayed me and you are trying to tell me this is like High School for you?

Dad: Because it is!

Michael: How?

Dad: For 3 years of High School I dated someone who I thought was the perfect woman. Good personality, looked good, and best of all, she was the only person who ever cared for me! That all came crashing down my Senior year. I remember getting back from fishing one night with your Uncle to find her making out with a guy in my living room. I, like you are now, was heartbroken. It took me a while to get over but, you wanna know the one thing I learned? It's better that happened because I wouldn’t have wanted to marry somebody who could do that at any time. I almost thanked her for doing it because it helped me see the value of people and how I would never want to betray someone that harshly. With that in mind, that is how I have been married to your mother for so many years. Does that help?

Michael stood up and let out a sigh of relief

Michael: I guess you're right. I just don’t understand because we had rarely argued about anything so why would she even consider this?

Dad: People want more than they can get. Sometimes way too much which will always leave them with less than before.

Michael: I see. Thanks for the advice.

Dad: No problem man. Also, if you want to get back at her, start working harder than you ever have, and eventually success will take root and she will even try to get you back.

Michael: Guess I better start working then.

Chapter 2 The work of a thousand men

Michael decided to drive to work right after this with one thought on his mind. The Biodroids.

He arrived at the lab and called Jim to talk and explain what happened.

Jim: Mike, I'm so sorry. You seemed so happy when you left yesterday.

Michael: I was. But on the other hand, I am happy I'm not marrying someone willing to do that at any time.

Jim: Yeah, I guess that's true. Anyway, how come you wanted to see me?

Michael: I think it’s time to put the Biodroids to use.

Jim: Sounds good. We can do the tests in an hour.

The hour passed and they were starting the first phase of testing.

Michael: You said that the material is almost like it's alive. How so?

Jim: We found the material in South America. We say it’s alive since it can create random objects but will be different around different temperatures, materials, and people. The ship it was on could barely hold it for long and long-term exposure has unknown effects. The goal is to make machines capable of harnessing the full power of the material and for us to use it to create any item we want. It’s unstable under certain conditions, but if we can focus it on a certain data board, it can regenerate and hopefully, we can even harness it!

Michael: It better work then.

Jim: Oh trust me, the data scientists have run through every variable and this is the closest to perfect we have.

Michael: Like I said. It better work.

Jim: Alright moody. Test beginning in 3-2-1

The test went underway and Michael and Jim were watching behind bulletproof glass, despite this. The machine started going faster and faster which was not predicted.

Michael: Uh is it supposed to do that?

Jim: It’s probably because it's getting hot. That’s normal.

Jim lowered the temperature of the room.

Jim: Alright we are going to focus on the machines.

Michael: How do you plan on having the machines harness the material?

Jim: Those lasers will scatter the material and hopefully it leaches onto the actual droids.

Michael: Very well

Jim: Focusing in 3-2-1

The lasers focused on the material but the temperature simply rose.

Computer: System Critical. Please lower the temperature.

Michael: Jim this isn’t normal. Turn it down.

Jim: I'm trying! I can’t cool it.

Computer: System failure imminent. Please shut down the system.

Jim: I'm going in

Michael: Are you crazy! Thats suicide!

Jim: I can’t shut it down out here. I have to disable them manually!

Michael: Are you sure?

Jim nodded.

Michael: Fine. Please don’t die man.

Jim: I’ll try.

Michael told the facility to evacuate while Jim was busy disabling the lasers.

Michael ran back to see if he was ok but was only greeted with an explosion sending him flying into the wall and getting knocked out in the process.

Chapter 3: Potential Energy

Scientist: Someone get a medic!

Strangers: Is he ok?

Michael was barely awake but heard that chatter around him as he faded in and out of consciousness.

Mom: Michael, Michael, Michael wake up!

Michael: I hear ya, I hear ya.

Mom: What happened?

Michael: We were experimenting with new tech and it went haywire. Sorry for scaring you.

Dad: We are just happy you are safe.

Mom: You need to stay away from there for a while ok?

Michael: I can’t we have been working on this for weeks.

Dad: When I said break a leg I didn’t think you would actually break one.

Michael: Wait my leg’s broken?

Dad: How can you not tell?

Michael moved his leg back and forth but still felt no pain.

Michael: Did the nurse give me painkillers?

Dad: No?

Michael: I'm telling you it’s fine. I could probably stand just on that one if I wanted.

The nurse arrived shortly after.

Nurse: Well we got your X-ray back and I have never seen anything like this before.

Michael: What do you mean?

Nurse: Every bone in your body is completely healed now. Do you feel any pain?

Michael: I feel great.

Nurse: If that’s the case then you are free to go.

Mom: Wait. Why is his IV blue?

Nurse: The blood is not getting oxygen. Mr Savik I need you to follow me now. Both of your parents should stay here.

Michael: Not until I figure out why that is blue.

Nurse: That’s what we are going to figure out.

Michael: OK.

They walked down to the main doctor with worry visible in his eyes.

Michael: I need to get out of here.

Nurse: What was that?

Michael: Nothing.

Nurse: Wait here. The doctor should be here soon.

As soon as she left, Michael ran as fast as he could out of the hospital and into the forest.

Michael: Hey I need an Uber now!

Employee: Boss! Are you ok?

Michael: I'm fine! I need a car!

As he said this, he felt a surge of energy that needed to be released. He stretched his arm out and miraculously, he made a car.

Michael: What is happening to me? How did I?

Employee: I’ll be there soon.

Michael: Actually, take the day off. I just found a ride of my own. Well, Jim. Looks like those human trials are beginning sooner than expected.

Chapter 4: The Cost of Pride

The context for how the material works: The user will be able to think of different types of matter that will be generated along with being able to use plasma beams.

As he drove home, Michael was less concerned about his health and what else the material could be used for. This curiosity turned to horror as he turned on the TV

News Anchor: Ladies and gentlemen we come to you tonight after our very own Biosmith Industries had an explosion that injured many workers. One of which was Michael Savik whose location has been unknown since his disappearance earlier this evening.

Michael: More people are affected. Does that mean Jim is alive?

News Anchor: Everyone please stay off the streets. 3 robots are killing everyone they see. The police are on their way so please leave the area!

Michael rushed to his phone to try and call Jim

Michael: Pick up, pick up!

Jim: Mike are you seeing this?

Michael: You're alive!

Jim: Somehow. Again are you watching the news right now?

Michael: Yeah. How are the droids being controlled?

Jim: Remember when I told you the material was alive?

Michael: Yeah?

Jim: Turns out the metal has a negative effect.

Michael: That makes no sense!

Jim: And you think three conscious droids do?

Michael: Well how do we stop them?

Jim: Were you in the hospital by any chance?

Michael: Yeah, my drip was blue.

Jim: The material must have gotten into your blood. Did anything else happen?

Michael: All my bones are healed and I made a car!

Jim: Perfect! Looks like we don’t need to test on rats now.

Michael: That doesn’t matter! What is happening to me?

Jim: You have powers. Correction. We have powers. Look in your backyard.

Michael went outside to see Jim jumping down from the sky and his skin illuminated with trails of smoke following.

Michael: What the?

Jim: You get used to it. Just think what you need and your body will do the rest.

Michael started flying as well.

Michael: So we just have to think and we can do it.

Jim: Pretty much.

Michael: Well let's go get the droids back.

Jim: Put a mask on. If the public knows who we are then we are going to be arrested.

Michael: Fine.

As they did this they went over to the droids and prepared to take them apart.

They flew in and saved the last civilians but ended up getting hit by the droids. Michael imagined different items but few left even a dent in the droids. During this, Jim was thrown into a wall and was about to be stabbed.

Michael: No!

Michael took out his hands and felt a surge of energy go through his body and blew the head off the droid.

Jim: How did you do that?

Michael: Why are you asking me?

With this new ability, they made short work of the other 2 droids and returned to the lab. Jim reassembled the droids but kept them off.

Jim: Plasma rays. And I thought I knew everything about how to use those powers!

Michael: I’m full of surprises.

Jim: You should stay here and we can run some more tests.

Michael: Do you not remember what happened the last time we did a test?

Jim: Ha. I do suppose we could take the night off. Besides we just saved the city.

Michael: That sounds like a good day. Looks like my Dad was right about getting back at her.

Jim: What do you mean?

Michael: My dad told me the best way to get revenge was to work as hard as possible then once you reap all the benefits, you get to say no to them once they come crawling back.

Jim: So the only reason you wanted to do this project was to get revenge on Lisa?

Michael: Sweet indeed!

Jim: I'm sorry but you mean to tell me that I nearly died so that you could simply brag to your ex about how happy you are!

Michael: Man you are taking it too far! I never wanted you to do that!

Jim: What amazes me is that you said you worked hard when I am the one who did all of this. I'm the one who conducted the experiment, I am the one who nearly died for your fantasy, and I am the one who even taught you how to use the powers!

Michael: Man I'm sorry. I’ll make sure you get all the money from this.

Jim: I would agree if it weren’t for one thing. If this becomes a revolutionary invention then you are the one the world remembers while I’m just another step on your pedestal!

Michael: Now you are just being crazy.

Michael tried to shake his hand but Jim slapped it away.

Jim: Biodroid, on.

The Biodroids awoke grabbing Mike and throwing him in a containment cell.

Michael: Jim, you can’t do this!

Jim: Who says I can’t? I sabotaged the invention on purpose, I know how to use every single ounce of that material, Heck if you cared enough then you would know that I'm the one who even found it! I knew you would try to get credit and this is what you deserve! Droids, lock the cell, and make sure he doesn’t get out. Jim proceeded to walk away and make a press conference.

Michael: Jim please, Jim, Jim!

Chapter 5: Hell on Earth

One night passed Mike was left confused as he heard a in the other room.

Jim: Good afternoon everyone. I'm sure you are aware of the incident that took place yesterday. I’m also aware of how our Biodroids went loose onto the city. To the families of those who lost their lives, I understand if you have bitterness towards us and we will do our best to help you all recover from this unfortunate event. One of the ones lost was our very own Michael Savik.

Michael screamed in his cell

Michael: Lies!

Jim: He loved this company very much and we will do our best to improve upon what he built. From now on I Jim Gallagher will guide this company into a bright future. Any questions?

Reporter: You mentioned the 3 droids loose on the streets but what about the 2 people that stopped them?

Jim: Ah yes! The explosion yesterday was based on an experiment that was meant to channel the droids. The material gave them a conscience and the blast must have triggered a hostility. The other 2 you saw were what we call the Specter Protocol. We had control of those. Thank you for your time.

Michael: I have to get out!

He felt around trying to find a way to escape.

Michael: Glass, I can break this.

He tried to use a sledgehammer but to no avail.

Michael: C’mon!

Droid: Quit it!

Michael: What did Jim say about the powers?

He then tried to fly through the glass but broke his arm.

Michael: Ah!

Droid: Last warning! Quit it!

Michael then felt a surge of energy in his body as he stood. With one last option, he was finally able to blast through the glass and the droids. He ran out of the building and went to his house.

When he turned down his street, he saw 5 cop cars outside. He couldn’t go to his house and didn’t want to worry his parents. He realized there was only one way to confront Jim. Face-to-face for one final time. He managed to hack the broadcast systems to relay a message to everyone.

Michael: To everyone who is listening in, this is Michael Savik. I am alive and I need your help. My company has been hijacked and Jim Gallagher tried to kill me. When the experiment happened what “killed me” gave me and everyone in that area of the building powers. Even Jim. We were the ones who destroyed the droids. Specters as he calls them. I need everyone affected to stay away. Jim is too powerful and he will stop at nothing to get what he wants. Jim if you are listening, meet me at the farmland. You are the monster I created so I will stop you.

Chapter 6: War of Many Swords

Michael went to the farmland and waited for him. All of a sudden, something rushed down to the ground like a missile. Jim arose with red energy emitting from him.

Michael: What happened to you?

Jim: You know I was almost impressed you managed to use your power. Or wait. Did I teach you or did you learn how to use your brain for once?

Michael: Jim. I am sorry. I never wanted you to risk your life for me.

Jim: That is what a friend does. You know I always wanted to become the head of the company but I never imagined it would be this perfect.

Michael: We can still turn back. Whatever you want I will give it to you. I will even step down if that’s really what you want!

Jim: It’s like you said. I'm the monster you created.

So go ahead and stop me.

Jim flew at Mike sending them both into the sky. They went back and forth trying to think of different ways to hit the other. As they fought in the clouds, they eventually came across the city. Jim managed to get a hit that sent Michael flying down to the ground. Once on the ground, Jim went for the killing blow but Michael put up a shield still not wanting to injure his friend.

Jim: For someone about to die, you are persistent!

Michael: Jim. Please.

Jim: If you cared that much about me then let me kill you!

Michael stretched out his hands waiting for the killing blow. Just before this, a blast came through throwing Jim into a building. It was the other Specters. They came rushing in and held Jim down as Michael arose.

Specter: Finish him off!

Michael: I can’t.

Specter: What do you mean you can’t?

Michael: He is beaten. Let him up.

Jim: Why do you spare me?

Michael: You wanted too much and ended with less than before. If I killed you then it would mean nothing.

Jim: Sigh Just let me up.

Jim stood up with shock on his face.

Michael: I know you can’t forgive me. But we can make things better.

Michael stuck out his hand in front of him. They shook hands.

Jim: I forgive you.

Jim then created a knife in Michael's hand forcing it into his neck.

Michael: No!

Jim collapsed with blood spilling out.

Epilogue: Cleaning Dirty Wounds

New Anchor: Here is a shocking story for you all tonight. Superpowered billionaire and murderer?

Michael Savik and Jim Gallagher went to the sky in a supernatural fight for the ages. After the accident, many people are starting to wonder: how many people have powers and what will a real-life superhero look like? Savik ended up stabbing Gallagher in the neck but witnesses are saying it was assisted suicide. Coming up next: New York mobs dead after catastrophic warehouse fire.

Michael was able to drive back to his house and was greeted by his parents.

Mom: Are you insane? You left the hospital and nearly died!

Dad: And why is everyone calling us saying you killed someone?

Michael: Slow down. Watch this, they are going to stream my press conference in a moment.

‘Good evening everyone. I am sure you are confused about the events of the past few days so let me explain. Jim Gallagher experimented on the material we found in South America. He purposefully sabotaged it so he could be the hero by staging the Biodroid attack. As he said, no amount of apologies can make up for the lives lost. He tried to take the reigns of the company and nearly killed me. For those of you calling me a murderer, ask anyone who was there and they will tell you he killed himself. And one last thing. When Jim called the people affected by the incident Specters, that comes from what means ghost. Fitting because I doubt anyone who is a Specter wants to even have those powers. Neither do I. Despite this, we still have them and we must choose to use them for good. If you are a Specter then please come to our facilities and we will help you manage them for good. And one more thing. I no longer wish to help this city simply as Michael Savik. I have a higher calling. I am the Specter and I am here to serve.’

#action #superhero #writing

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lauvra · 4 months ago

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I don't know how to talk about this, and have backspaced entire paragraphs. How do I convey what this man has done for me over the twelve years since I first heard his voice? A radio station had either played a clip of D.D. or the entire song, the presenters were talking about an artist with a voice in the league of Michael Jackson's, I remember thinking he sounded far better. My memory is hazy, I think I searched online for artists who sounded like Michael -- all I knew was that that voice was one I needed to hear again and somehow came upon the Youtube video for House of Balloons / Glass Table Girls and was won entirely over. Nobody sounded like him, I'd never heard records produced the way those songs were; with credit to Illangelo, they were darker than typical pop songs, more lyrically and structurally interesting while emotionally compelling and carnally unparallel to anything I'd heard. Plus: that voice and its range. I bought Trilogy not long after it was released in 2012, by then I was nineteen with Manic Panic red hair living in a city two hours from my hometown and I fucking thrashed that triple-disk compilation on drives from day through dusk 'til dawn in my beat up Mazda 121. I've religiously awaited each release since, considering every new video, single and album an event. There are no bands, no artists -- none -- that I trust so much as Abel Tesfaye. Of me he has made a true loyalist. He expanded, experimented yet that signature sound remained, and I remain in awe. Each album punctuates a specific time in my life and brings up all those old emotional ailments he'd sung me through. I wont run through each album, but After Hours and Dawn FM in particular came precisely when I needed them and could feel aligned most strongly. Very few musicians compel me to listen from start to finish but he is one (I have to insist you lay in a dark room and listen to Dawn FM all the way through, allow Jim Carrey's poetic interludes to send you to space). Two songs into this evening my eyes welled but I stopped myself, the desire to rush to a bathroom stall to cry came on because for so long this music had remained a sacredly intimate experience best enjoyed alone and looking around the stadium, I couldn't see a single person who looked devasted enough to stand beside. I decided to enjoy myself, grateful to be there especially with my most cherished friend, one of two who've known me as long as I've known this artist. He bought these tickets to surprise me a few weeks ago, I'd been cooking lasagna in the kitchen when he came home and looked at me astounded. This lasagna was kinda my specialty, takes hours to make and I hadn't cooked it in years. He seemed suspicious, asked me why I was making it, why today? He'd bought the tickets earlier and told me he was going to wait to tell me until I was nice to him (a joke, but probably not wholly). It sounds stupid, but I thanked God, because I really had done it as a gesture of good will; knowing I hadn't really done anything particularly nice in a while. I'd totally resigned myself to missing this show, felt OK with it, knowing I'd be devastated either way but I am so fucking grateful that I didn't have to. The people in my life are ridiculously wonderful, like, I know, WTF.

#me #word #music

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catkin-morgs-kookaburralover · 9 months ago

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day fifteen: memory loss

a Vaniah story. word count 1,152.

Something was wrong.

What had they done to him? He remembered Jim telling him that he was going to—something…. It slipped from his memory. He fell asleep, that much he knew, but what next? Why was he like this?

Who was he? He stared at his hands, turned them over and over as if trying to find answers in their lines. He asked for a mirror, and stared long at the man who looked back out at him. He looked old, older than he expected; a dark-eyed man with an intense gaze and a sardonic smile. This wasn’t him. There was an imposter in the mirror. Jim. The name swam across his consciousness. Jim was someone—someone good, someone kind. Someone who had his best interests at heart. Someone else was cruel, but it wasn’t Jim. Perhaps it was he himself.

He remembered a conversation in low tones, Jim telling someone that he was special and would never budge from his convictions. The person had disagreed. He remembered watching them: there was tension. Who was the man Jim had told that? He couldn’t remember. Someone said a name and he knew it was his, but the next moment it was gone again. He was… confused. This was fine. It was normal to forget his own name. Someone said it again and this time he looked over.

“What is it?” His voice was deeper than he expected, a man’s and not a boy’s. He thought he was young once upon a time. Now he was old. “Speak to me.”

“I am speaking to you.”

“What’s your name?”

He shook his head as if it would dislodge the information faster. “I don’t know.” A moment later, “Maybe it’s Jim?” Wait. No. Jim was someone else. Jim was his friend, not him. He put his hand over his eyes. “Give me a moment.”

They gave him a moment. He still didn’t remember.

“Do you know where you are?”

“In the hospital.” Given the white room he was in, it was a reasonable guess.

“Which hospital?”

“The one attached to the compound.” What was the compound? Simply a name that had presented itself at the moment of his speaking.

The person seemed satisfied. “Do you know why you’re here?”

“I’m not well.” Logical. He looked at the man whose name he did not know, smiled and tried to act normally. “Except I am, really,” he explained, and smiled again. “I’m sorry if I bothered you; but I am perfectly fine and you ought to let me out today. I’m so well. I’m not seeing or hearing anything abnormal.”

(In the corner, something he didn’t want to look at chittered. It was singing in a language he had once known.)

“I remember everything a normal person would be expected to remember.”

(Except his name.)

“I’m so incredibly normal you should let me out of here right now.”

The other looked skeptical. “And you’ll then do what?”

“Go home, of course.” He glanced out the window. “It’s getting on dark; Mum will be wondering where I am for dinner.”

“Go on.”

“Since I was ten she allowed me to play outside our house, but only a couple of blocks away. She’ll be terribly mad that I’ve gone so far.”

“I’m sure she won’t. We had to bring you in, you know.”

“Why did you do that? I was busy playing with Timmy.”

“Who is Timmy?”

“My little brother. He’s too young though; he’s not allowed in the neighbourhood on his own unless I’m with him. Did you bring him in? Is he okay?”

“I’m sure he’s okay.”

He got up and began to pace. He was dizzy but that wasn’t going to stop him. “I need to see him. Mum trusted me with him. I need to make sure he’s okay.” Darkness was closing in. “I—I—” His voice sounded awfully far away. “—I need help—”

Someone grabbed his arm and pulled him forcefully to the floor. He put his head between his knees and felt the crashing waves recede a little. “I don’t know what I was saying,” he said, and laughed. It must have been a joke—it was so funny he could scarcely breathe, and he laughed and wheezed and laughed until he coughed. He took a moment to recover himself and realised he had no idea why he was in this situation. What was going on?

“How are you feeling now?” asked the stranger, and he got up carefully and shifted to the chair. It was more comfortable than the floor.

“Fine,” he said. He wanted to go home. “Absolutely fine. There’s nothing wrong with me.”

The thing in the corner crooned his name, or someone’s name. He wanted to look at it, but knew terrible things would happen if he did. Something else was swinging from the ceiling, and he wondered how long it had been there before he realised it.

“Are you sure?”

“‘Course I’m sure.” He watched the thing on the ceiling out of the corner of his eye. It reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t remember who. “Never been sick a day in my life, I haven’t. You don’t need to worry about me.” He smiled, then turned to look at the thing on the ceiling. He recognised it suddenly, and horror gripped him in a way that was almost physical. He turned to the man and said suddenly, “Maria. Where’s Maria? Is she okay?” Because if she wasn’t, that was some aspect of her that was swinging slowly on the ceiling, face frozen in a rictus of pure terror. Some part of her was in the hell in front of him.

“Maria is fine. What do you remember about her?”

I remember that I care about her. I remember that she was hurt and that it was my fault. But I don’t remember who either of us are. I don’t think we exist. “She’s my friend. She got hurt.”

“You saw her being hurt in virtual reality. She herself is fine. How does that make you feel?”

“Are you a psychologist?”

A smile. “You’ve found me out. Good job. How are you feeling now?”

“Less dizzy. I’m fine. Just drop me off back home and I’ll be fine. Otherwise I’ll miss dinner.” He caught sight of his reflection in the mirror; no, that wasn’t his reflection. That was somebody else looking out at him. He was younger than that.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. I hope this is a temporary issue, because you’re not well right now.”

“I’m completely fine!” He got up suddenly. He was taller than the man in front of him, and felt dangerous.

The other got up to face him, but slowly. “Breathe. Stay calm.”

He swung; the man ducked, and hit a buzzer.

The last thing he remembered was being grabbed from behind, and a stabbing pain. Then his world relaxed.

#I don't know where I"m going in subsequent chatpers but WHO CARES THIS WAS FUN #vaniah #whump

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grand-taire · 3 years ago

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being a mormor shipper is amazing because, due to there being no source material, there are so many different dynamics you can choose from. and they’re all so good. for example, my favorites

jim and sebastian who are both fucked up people, who drive each other to higher and higher heights of violence, who don’t have a definable relationship beyond the neon burst of adrenaline the other brings. it is what it is, which is to say, something bright and sharp that can’t possibly last long before one or both of them burn up.

alternatively, jim and sebastian who come to understand each other deeply, despite not having made any other meaningful human relationships in their lives. they’ve both always felt seperate and disconnected from others, but for the first time, they’ve found a person who feels real. they’re not the same, not in the way jim always thought would be required for him to connect with someone, but they don’t have to be. they aren’t alone anymore.

intimacy issues TM: jim who doesn’t really think of himself as a human being, who has gone through life believing he’s a sociopath with no weak spots and no real emotions to speak of, who is suddenly confronted with the fact that he is not only incapable of killing sebastian anymore, but that he does care for another person. and he does not fucking handle it well. maybe he lashes out to prove to himself that it isn’t true, tries to push sebastian away or hurt him.

or maybe it’s about power, about nobody ever gets to me; maybe jim equates caring with weakness, and does everything he can to assert his dominance, stay aloof. keep sebastian in his proper place.

seb who is devoted, little better than a dog- he’ll admit it- but only for one man; he’ll stop at nothing to keep following jim, keep this going just a little while longer. he’ll be whatever jim needs, a warm body, a weapon, a soft voice or a whipping boy.

maybe jim isn’t able to love; maybe seb is just a toy or a distraction or a morbid experiment to see if he can build a shrine to himself in someone else’s chest. maybe jim uses him and gives nothing back; sometimes seb knows, and it’s fine. sometimes he never stops reaching for any shred of jim he can take for himself, and he never really can.

maybe sebastian is a revelation. he isn’t like jim but he isn’t like anyone else, either; they certainly aren’t going to fix each other but that doesn’t mean seb won’t always guide him, hollow eyed, back home; doesn’t mean jim won’t give sebastian a home to come back to, and every piece of himself he can spare.

speaking of seb as a revelation; maybe jim finally finds in him someone he trusts enough to fully hand himself over. sebastian doesn’t have to be the only one collared like a dog, on his knees.

seb who is cunning, capable and sarcastic, stubbornly refusing to be cowed by the most dangerous man he’ll ever meet, because he wasn’t built that way. who respects jim and would give his life for him; that doesn’t change the fact that he’s going to fucking push back. and jim. jim finds his match. jim’s fingers leave bruises around his throat; that’s fine, because jim has a matching set on his hips. reminders of ownership and respect and debts to be paid.

#sherlock #mormor #jim moriarty #sebastian moran #god they're all so good #(screaming noises)

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freaky-munson · 2 years ago

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Rude p.5

navigation

Summary: Eddie Munson really wants to marry Y/n Hopper but her dad strongly refuses; based on song “rude” by MAGIC!

fic is kinda au

Warnings: a little bit of angst, mostly fluff

Words: 1,322

introduction part one part two part three part four part five here epilogue

„Did I reach Joyce Byers? It’s Eddie. Eddie Munson.”

“Oh hi Eddie, not that I’m not pleased to talk to you but you certainly have surprised me. How can I help you?”

Eddie knew Joyce was lovely woman; every time he was spending his day with Y/n’s at her house, when she also was there, she always invited him to stay for dinner, not caring about Jim’s loud and obvious unhappiness and disagreements. He clearly saw that Y/n too was really glad for having her in their lives.

Since her own mum turned her back on her and her now ex-husband, Jim’s dates weren’t exactly good mom role models and the girl herself always wanted one - one that will love her unconditionally unlike her own mother. So having Joyce close was a literal blessing.

“As you probably already know, last week I personally spoke to Mr Hopper about his blessing. To marry Y/N obviously. And you are aware that it was kind of a big disaster.”

Joyce sighed. Of course she knew. It lead them to have some silent treatment of her doing. She thought it might be petty to some people, but Y/n was almost like her daughter. She really loved the girl and wanted her to be happy - and clearly her boyfriend was doing that job perfectly.

“Yes Eddie, I know. And we already kind of argued because of that.”

“Oh, I’m really sorry. It wasn’t my intention to make a mess to such extent.”

“Don’t worry about it. Jim is stubborn, but he is not dumb. He just has to think about this whole situation. Give him time. You have to understand it is quite a change for him. His little daughter is about to start adult life.”

“I know, and I really respect that. But I’m afraid that not the change is the problem. I am. I am the problem. A-and I really need your help Mrs Byers. I’m so lost that I think that I’m losing Y/n. She started to worry and I’m afraid she suspects the worst. And that she will get tired of me being always stressed and quiet, not really myself and finally leave me.”

“Eddie, don’t be ridiculous, Y/n would never leave you at your lowest. I think the best solution in your scenario is to talk to Y/n, heart to heart. I know you wanted approval from her dad, but as I already said he is a stubborn man. And if you love someone don’t let them go. Propose to her cause you are in relationship with her, not her and the dad. Tell her you tried your best to win your dad over, she knows that he gives you hard time and she will understand everything. Love overcomes everything. And Jim might actually finally see everything as it is and come around.”

“No, she can’t know about this. It’s better that way, it will save her from disappointment. Of me, of her dad. I don’t want to step in dirty shoes into their dynamic.”

“I’m sure that nothing will change. Jim loves his daughters too much to be mad at them forever. Believe me, the only person who will bring Jim Hopper to his senses is Y/n Hopper herself.”

Did it help Eddie? Not much. But for sure it gave him some hope and motivation. And reminded him that the two of them were the most important. They and their pure, beautiful love.

Meanwhile Y/n didn’t want to go straight home. The bloodshot, puffy eyes, stuffy nose from all the crying she did sitting in her trustful car parked on some abandoned parking lot were really making her driving harder than usual.

She tried deep breathing, counting to 10s and another not-so-successful calming methods but she only stopped weeping when she felt dehydrated, like she couldn’t produce even one another single tear.

And her head? Such a mess. She felt lost. Confused. Angry. Disappointed. Embarrassed. And it wasn’t even with Eddie; she mainly hated herself. Why? She knew that jumping to some stupid assumptions and heavy overthinking wasn’t good. But she was a teenage girl, that’s what teenagers do when something wrong happens, especially in relationships.

The thought of the worst really tired the girl but coming back home, to her dad with evident signs of crying after spending the day with Eddie was not an option; he didn’t need any more reasons to dislike her boyfriend.

Going back to trailer park would only probably lead to some unnecessary argument what was the last thing the girl wanted right now.

She needed some advice from someone close to her heart and most importantly someone with clear mind and objective approach. Leaving the parking spot she knew where to go. Her girl best friend, Nancy Wheeler, was obvious choice. She was always the calm and responsible one in their pair, balancing crazy actions Y/n usually put them through.

Nancy was surprised seeing Hopper girl standing in front of her when she opened the door. She was well aware of her Saturday rituals with Munson, which usually ended up in the late evening, but right now was only 6 pm.

But what was the most concerning was the look on her friend’s face.

“Y/n, what the hell happened? Have you been crying? Is someone hurt?”

“Eddie cheated on me” loud sob broke out of nowhere, really scaring Nancy.

How could he? Wasn’t he supposed to propose to Y/n? She couldn’t believe it, especially after discovering Eddie’s plans. And clearly everybody saw the love in curly haired boy’s eyes - and for her, eyes were direct window to the human’s soul.

“At least I think that it happened. It’s just… Eddie wasn’t himself since last weekend. He said it was some stress. But we always talked about it! We supported each other and always have done everything to lessen the stress.” the warm hands on her shoulders immediately stopped the quite unclear rambling full of tears and sniffing.

“Do you have any proof? You know how are boys; sometimes their pride doesn’t let them to speak freely about their feelings.”

“But Nance, I heard him on the phone. He was saying something about some woman not knowing something cause it will only disappoint her. And as you know Eddie doesn’t know many hers!”

Taking deep breath, Wheeler girl invited the girl inside and brought straight to her room. It would be quite a challenge to calm the girl without ruining the surprise engagement.

“Y/n I assure you that you got everything wrong. Eddie fucking loves you! He looks at you like you are his sun, moon and stars. I don’t believe that that man could ever intentionally hurt you. You have to talk with him. But not today. Today, you call your dad and we have a small slumber party. Just the two of us, like we used to in middle school.”

That seemed to slightly help the girl. She only nodded and went downstairs stairs to call her home. Nancy used this moment to get her walkie-talkie. She had to act fast, she felt like the whole relationship depended on her.

“Eddie. It’s no good. You have to propose. Preferably tomorrow. Y/n is extremly overthing at this point. Act fast and smart.”

Eddie Munson almost fainted when he heard the Wheeler girl. Y/n had to go to her and speak about their problems. Which were born in Y/n head just because he was a freaking coward.

The only thing he was sure of now was that it was time to finally be brave. Be selfish and be like he was back in high school - not caring about anyone, just listening to this heart. And what was his heart saying? Right now his heart only wanted to love and cherish Y/n Hopper forever, till the day he dies.

taglist

rude

@offical-bee @bakugouswh0r3 @nightthou @angelina0191 @brxkenartt @screambih @this--is--music @waiting-for-cas-to-save-me @floriscus

#stranger things imagine #eddie munson series #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x hopper!reader #eddie munson x reader

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trivialbob · 2 years ago

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This weekend I’m home alone. I asked my brother about going out to dinner tonight, just the two of us. He invited me to his place downtown where we could walk to any number of restaurants.

Depending who you listen to, downtown Minneapolis could be one of two things: A place where you shout so your friends hear you over all the gunfire and screams of shooting victims. Or a vibrant place, thriving like no city has ever thrived before.

Obviously the truth is somewhere in the middle of all that.

Today has been nice, so I rode the scooter (Suzuki Burgman) over there. Jim and I had a beer on his 20th floor patio and looked at the city. I kept my back firmly against the wall, never trusting that railing.

We then walked to a restaurant. An Irish pub was our second choice, after trying a new sports bar and restaurant I’d never heard of. The Timberwolves had a home game, so some places were full before the game started. Streets were also busy with fans. There’s safety in numbers--even one of the most problematic bus stops downtown was trouble free as we strolled past it.

The last time I walked around downtown Minneapolis was in the summer of 2020, in the middle of a Thursday. The place was a ghost town.

Tonight I liked seeing businesses running again. I miss when I could sometimes go to the office, for a change of pace from working at home. My office building never reopened after COVID hit. It’s been sold to a developer, to be torn down. Apartments, condos, and some street level businesses will take its place.

The ride home was fun too. It was only 50°F, but I have good cool weather riding gear. Now home, I have three dogs happy to see me. Sulley the puppy was really good. I didn’t kennel him for the few hours I was gone. He didn’t mess up anything. Maybe I’ll bring him to the Minnehaha dog park again tomorrow as a reward.

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tlexx · 3 years ago

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When Sam Met Danny

Summary: Short Blurb on how Sam found out he got his twin flame.

The boy from the alley had been asleep on the couch for more than sixteen hours. It made sense though, he was pretty badly beaten. Josh and I knew what Jake had planned the moment he shooed us away. He never let me watch him turn anyone before, I’m not really sure why it was just them drinking his blood, but it seemed like some type of intimate moment. I remember the pain I felt when he changed me, so maybe Jake was trying to be considerate of their privacy more than his own.

Josh was yelling at Jake in the other room for bringing one of his offspring home. He never really has done this before, he will send them away to his little camp of newborns he had up near the Great Lakes. But, for some reason he brought this one home. Jake knew something that the rest of us didn’t, so I had to trust him. Trusting Jake was easier than trusting myself, he knew what I needed more than I did. He looked out for me more than I looked out for myself. Sometimes I wonder if Jake cared more about if I was alive than I did myself.

But, in all honesty, what is there to really live for? I mean I love my brothers, they are my family. However, I am left out. They are twin flames, they have conversations I never get to hear. The twins will have a connection together that I will never understand, and it simply just gets lonely.

Jake asked me to watch this stranger, just in case he woke up before Josh was done berating him. So, now I am twirling my hair around my fingers staring at Jim Morrison on the wall when I could be out on the boardwalk finding a group of broads that would keep me company.

“We don’t have room for another! What if he says something? Outs us?”

“Who are you to question me? I’m the one that always is protecting the family, Josh! I know what’s best!”

One day those two will get into a fight that ends all fights, and if I’m honest it’s probably going to be about some chick. I laugh to myself, a little too loudly, and the stranger on the couch stirs. I freeze in hopes that he doesn’t wake up, not wanting to deal with his shit. However, my leather pants are slippery and my foot slides off my thigh with a loud bang on the concrete floor.

“Shit.”

His eyes flutter open and instantly land on me, for a moment he was serene but quickly was pushed into full panic.

“Who are you? Where the fuck am I?” His eyes darted around the room, obviously taken aback by his heightened senses. “What the fuck is happening to me?”

“You’re a vampire.” The shrug I gave him may have been a little too nonchalant, but he really does need to calm down.

“Stop joking around, this is serious! I need a hospital!”

“No you don’t.” He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could I showed my fangs to him to prove my last statement. He cowers back into the couch, whole body shaking from fear and Jake’s blood. “I’m not going to hurt you. You’re fine, this is really no big deal.”

“No big deal? Vampires are real? You’re a fucking thing out of Twilight!”

“That’s rude, the Cullens have nothing on us.” He sticks his pointer finger in his mouth, feeling the sharpness of his own fangs. “Your name is Danny, right?”

“Yeah, and you’re Josh?”

“You offend me Danny. No, I am Sam.”

‘The curly one must be Josh.’

“Yeah, he is the one with curly hair.”

“I-How-What just happened?” Danny stopped hiding in the couch and sat like a civilized being, elbows on his knees as he leaned forward.

“You said Josh had curly hair?”

“No, I thought it.”

“No man, you said it.”

“Wait, can all vampires read minds?”

“No, well kinda, but not really. It’s complicated.”

“Tell me what I’m thinking!”

“I can’t, only twin fla-“

‘Tiger Woods is overrated.’

“You golf? Isn’t that kinda boring?”

“See you can read my mind! Wait, can I read yours?”

“Um.” I run my palms on the red leather, weirdly nervous about all of this. Have I found my twin flame? My best friend? I doubt it, but there really was only one way to find out.

‘I said maybe, You're gonna be the one that saves me’

“AND AFTER ALL” Danny screamed at the top of his lungs. Both of us stood straight up from our seats in a rapid excited movement.

Together we finish the lyrics, “YOU’RE MY WONDERWALL!”

“What are you screaming about?” Josh looked like a pissed off mother with his arms crossed and tapping his foot. Jake wasn’t far behind him, leaning on the wall with a cocky smirk he wore so often.

“I, uh, found my twin flame.”

#greta van fleet #lost boys #Sam kiszka #vamp!sam speaks #lost canons #Sam kiszka au

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televisionboy · 4 years ago

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this gif is everything skdjdjfn and this is my first alphabet! so give me love and constructive criticism.

taglist: @punkgeekchic @visionsofsweettea @adoresobs @am4sawa @reblogsfandom @evarolines @somethingstuffy

Timothee Chalamet Fluff Alphabet

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Dates with Timothee are very very comforting and new at the same time. He LOVES getting out of the house and going to a city where shops are lining every corner and small cafes with coffee to die for. But he also loves to cook you dinner and rehash your days. He’s quite a domestic person.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Timothee finds all of you attractive. But his favorite thing to do is whenever you’re reading a book or the two of you are watching TV, and you’re at one end of the couch and he’s at the other end, he loves to run his hands up and down your legs while they rest in his lap. Drumming his fingers against your knees is like a calming thing

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

He doesn’t talk, at all. He’s an incredibly patient boyfriend who will sit there with you and sync your breathing while hugging you. He will listen for hours and hours to you talk about it. And if not, he makes tea for you and offers cuddles and comfortable silences. I mean, either way he always makes tea.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

He would love a family with you, he knows you’d be an incredible parent to his children. But he’s content being young, having new experiences and getting to be spontaneous. If he had to think about it, he’d like one or two children and maybe a dog. Living in a cozy but spacious home, of course there’s a pool in the back.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

well, when he’s in the mood, jealous/mad he definitely will be dominant (and especially in bed) but he’s in no way so dominant that you will feel like his maid or a child. But he really doesn’t want to consider your relationship to be that way. Both of you are just you and treat each other equally.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

He gets cold when he’s fighting with you. Timothee’s a bit like a younger sibling while fighting, he knows how to push your buttons and won’t stop until he see’s a reaction. But he has that guilty feeling wash over him so fast. He’s very very easy to forgive you because how could he say no to someone like you??

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

SO GRATEFUL. He spoils like no other. If you point out that you like a pair of earrings, they’re yours (it doesn’t matter that they’re pure diamonds) you mentioned that you want to see Italy? Tickets booked. And a great thing about him, on top of being a good listener is that he has a great eye. And he picks up on things and is quick to notice them. Which is a big reason he’s so successful in acting. Even if it’s something as simple as washing the dishes so he can relax, to something as kind as making him your very own fan gift.. he melts every time.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Mmm, he certainly tries not to but everyone keeps secrets. There are things that both of you prefer to keep private but he wouldn’t keep something like him kissing another woman a secret.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

You’ve inspired him and fueled him to become a stronger actor even if you’re not one yourself. Some of your advice is seriously helpful, and some are unhelpful but hilarious. No matter what you will tell him, he knows you’re waiting at home or even at his set with open arms, waiting for him to win an award and fangirl online to other Timmy fans. It makes him blush and cause a billion butterflies to erupt in his stomach.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

He trusts you 100% that you would never leave him, and he doesn’t want to be one of those boyfriends who restricts their partner. But there’s a part of him that’s incredibly insecure and is convinced you can do better. There are some parts that WANT you to leave him and do better. He would never ever show it in public, but you can read him well. You’ll put a hand on his bouncing knee and kiss his jaw.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

He knows he’s a damn good kisser as well as charmer. You had been on a couple of dates with him, on one you mentioned that it was on your bucket list to be kissed in the rain. He made sure to schedule a date when there would be rain and he took you on a picnic. Towards the end, it had started to pour and you were trying to run back to the car but he grabbed your face and kissed you so hard but so passionately. His curls were dripping and the sandwiches were ruined but the feeling was incredible.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Rightttt after that kiss, in the car you were drying off and laughing with him while the radio was on in the background. The car was on but he wasn’t driving. Instead, he turned to you and told you he was in love with you. Both of you had said “love you” but never “i’m in love with you”

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

He’s on the fence about babies but he knows for certain that he wants to marry you. You know that scene in The Office where Jim shows the engagement ring for Pam and is like “I got it 3 weeks into dating”? That’s Timmy.

He brings you to a premire of one of his movies and at the end when all the credit’s are rolling, it says “y/n will you marry me?” and when you turn back around, Timmy is on one knee and Armie is most likely behind him crying his eyes out.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

“Babe” “Baby” “Mon cherie” When you two are married, he’ll join you in the kitchen while cooking dinner and call you “Mrs Chalamet” before kissing your shoulder and beginning to chop veggies. It’s just incredibly domestic

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

so so so obvious and so in love. He shows you off as much as possible and talks about you on talk shows until he’s sure that the audience is annoyed and SNL mocks him (and even then, he’ll continue)

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

he brags but he does know when to dial it back for your own privacy and humility. BUT that doesn’t mean he won’t hold your hand in public, or banter with you on a twitter thread even if you both are right next to each other on the couch playing footsie

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

He has a great eye and is quick to pick up on things. It’s almost as if he has certain senses and can tell when you’re having a bad day or upset. He just knows. It’s incredible. He’ll run you a bath and order cake to indulge yourself in before you even get home.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

The most sickley, fluffy, romantic, boyfriend that it makes me sick. Timothee would dye his hair rainbow and cut of his toes if it meant you would smile. On a more romantic note, he pulls out all the stops but it’s a bit more subtle?? Like he is very romantic but it’s not overwhelming. There’s no string quartet and private dining room but there will be jazz and dancing at midnight or a homemade “restaurant” with Timothee as a one man (messy) staff but it’s the best thing you could have ever come home to

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

He’s your head cheerleader and the most selfless human ever. Will cheer for you until his voice goes mute and even then, he’s the one clapping the loudest and crying the most.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

both! Timothee is like a dog in some ways. He’s energetic and needs new things, to be outside, to be social. But he craves hugs and cuddling, he adores late night talks with you or watching you make him breakfast while he scrolls through Instagram. Like I said, a very domestic guy.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

He know’s you like the back of his hand and he could spot you with his eyes closed and only by feeling your face. He knows your habits, and the food you hate, your terrible cooking skills, and the kind of dad jokes you tell, the anxiety ticks, and what shows you’ll watch over and over again.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

He’d go insane without you. You’re addictive because you have a pure heart and a dirty mind and he falls in love the more you show that. He brings you back the weirdest things that remind him of you. Stationary cards with odd quotes, an antique necklace from the 40′s, peach earrings (because he enables your teasing)

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

He’s like the real version of “JOEY DOESN’T SHARE FOOD” but a little more loving lol “I love you, but I’m willing to defend my fries”

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

I said that he’s like a puppy! he needs kisses and scratches to his head (free scalp massage) and he’s a clingy puppy too. i mean, look at his eyes for the love of god.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

he aches so bad. He is your cheerleader but he can’t function without you. You’re his cup of coffee, an antidepressant. He’s fangirling inside for your new project but when he sees your mug or reaches to bring you close to his chest and you’re not there, he’s unable to fall asleep or make a cup of coffee.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

He’d travel to Mars and back if you asked him to. Just ask him, and he does it. One time, he was working on a movie with an actress who was quite snippy to you and he quit immediately, feeling incredibly guilty and nauseous. He got you very expensive lox and bagels one morning because you were whining about it the previous night. He doesn’t want to close his eyes at night because there’s so many things he wants to do before he goes on to the next day. But when he closes his eyes at night, it’s all you, you, you, you, you and how much he’s overwhelmed with total adoration for you

#timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet icons #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet smut #fluff #fluff alphabet #x reader #x you

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falloutjay · 3 years ago

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UR REQS ARE OPEN WOO!! PLS GIMME ANYTHING FOR JIMMY OR KENNY!!!!! MAYBE W LIKE A RLLY ATHLETIC/SPORTY READER IDK

KENNY MY BELOVED! AND JIMMY!

I wrote something for both since Jimmy content is rare and I liked the short drabbles I wrote. I hope you enjoy them too, dear Anon! <3

____________________

Kenny/Jimmy x Athletic!Reader

Kenny:

“Ahh Kiiiiinny come on! Kyle will bring the day only for todaaayy!” Cartman kept whining and the blond just rolled his eyes.

“Cartman, I said no. I’m picking someone up and I don’t care if you only managed to convince Kyle to bring the new Call of Duty for a day. Not my problem.” Kenny mumbled into his parka.

“Fine, whatever. You’re the one missing out, Kiiiinnnny.”

“Stop calling me that.” Cartman pretended to not hear him and turned on his heels to walk out of school. Annoyed that Cartman bothered him for so long, Kenny slammed his locker shut and walked in the opposite direction towards the track field.

His backpack hung loosely over his shoulder, and he stumbled his way over the stands until he sat down in the second row. He scanned the athletes that just now took their positions to sprint along the track. He finally spotted his object of desire and he waited patiently. It was their turn to run, and he kept his blue eyes always on them.

Once the loud noise signaled that the race started, the runners took off and Kenny watched his beloved (Y/N) swiftly lead the race. He smiled brightly, cheering quietly for his partner as they ran past the line for the finish. Feeling no shame or embarrassment, Kenny loudly cheered and got up from his seat.

“WOOO! Y/N, you did great!” The person he called out for smiled brightly and after they picked up their towel and water bottle, they swiftly jogged over to the blond. “Never knew you were this fast babe.” Kenny complimented them and quickly pressed a kiss onto Kenny’s lips.

“Well, maybe you should have come to see my practice.” “Well, I am here now. And trust me, the whole day I got bullied by the guys because I won’t come and play COD with them.” Kenny laughed. Y/N shook their head and giggled.

“Well, I hope it was worth it.” “Seeing you make your opponents eat your dust and seeing that beautiful smile of yours? One hundred percent worth it.” Y/N loved how smooth Kenny was. “Hey, Y/N, get over here and quit flirting!” One of their teammates called out.

“Welp, gotta go back.” “Yeah, I’ll be here though and wait for when we can walk to your place.” Y/N nodded, kissed the blond one more time before they jogged back to their sports team. Kenny watched after them, a dreamy expression painted on his face.

Jimmy:

You casually strolled into the gym, wanting to visit a certain someone. You had just finished your own workout for the school fitness competition, and you knew your boyfriend was training for his won competition.

Near the entrance, you were greeted by a close friend of yours. “TIMMY!” Timmy loudly exclaimed as he spotted you. You walked over and gave him a high five.

Timmy was also in his gym gear, training hard just like you. The gym that the town built specifically for the handicapped was equipped rather nicely and you were happy that the people close to you could work on themselves here. “Hey TimTim, is Jimmy here?”

“Timmy!” He proclaimed and drove off, with you trailing behind. In the distance, you could spot the brown-haired boy lifting weights and you quickly thanked Timmy, who replied with the usual and then went to continue his workout. “S-S-s-Sixty Ei-Eight.” He breathed out as he lifted the weight once more and you casually leaned over him.

“Hey there!” You sang and Jimmy immediately smiled. He paused his workout and sat on the bench. “He-Hey there bi-bi-beautiful.” He smiled warmly as you leaned down to press a kiss on his lips. He smelled like sweat, as he was working out, so it really was no surprise to you. You adjusted the gym bag on your back as you straightened yourself again.

“How’s the training for the Paralympics going?” You asked. “Its good. I’m making re-re-real progress.” He flexed his muscles and you laughed with him.

“Looking good Jim.” You said as you touched his biceps. “A-and what about you?” He asked, knowing how hard you were training too so you could steal everyone the show at the big school competition.

“Super good. That’s why I finished early today to visit you, hun.” You grinned and pointed at your gym bag. “S-Sounds great. You-You want to go out for dinner to-tonight?” Jimmy asked as he laid back down on the bench and got in position to lift the weights again.

“Sounds amazing. I’ll pick you up at your home later, okay? I really need a shower first. And I think so do you.” You both laughed and before you went on your way to leave, you leaned down to give Jimmy another kiss.

“See you tonight, my be-beloved.” He whispered against your lips. “See you tonight, Jim.” You waved towards Timmy, who happily returned the gesture and strolled out of the training area.

You spotted Nathan and Mimsy near the entrance and also waved at them, but only Mimsy returned the wave before he got scolded by Nathan.

You smiled, feeling hyped up for your first real date with your boyfriend in a long time since you were both very busy with training for your events.

But tonight, sports would not be a topic, it would only be you, Jimmy, his comedy, and some nice dinner.

#south park x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #jimmy valmer x reader

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grxtsch · 4 years ago

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lyin’ eyes

[jimmy page x reader]

summary: after relationship troubles, (y/n) decides to leave and hopefully forget all that’s happened. but when she reaches a place that holds many memories, a certain old friend who she shared those memories with was waiting for her to return.

notes: i don’t know what that summary is but i made it up on the spot so don’t even complain abt it :P

also i personally think that this is my best fic so far so yeah enjoy ig 😩🤚

edit: LMAO this was supposed to be based off of the song by the eagles but my brain had other ideas rip

warnings: cheating (idk if i need to warn u abt that but i’m being safe), swearing, fluff

“(y/n) please wait!” a voice sounded from behind you as you dragged a suitcase filled with your clothes and other possessions to the front door.

“no chris, i’ve waited long enough at the damn restaurant and where were you?” you said, throwing your free hand up in the air. “you were fucking this bitch in our— no, your house.” you seethed back at your now ex-boyfriend, who stood with an expression of grief.

“in fact, i don’t want to wait at anymore restaurants for your stupid ass.” his grief soon turned into anger as you spun around on your heels and walked out the front door.

you could hear him shouting some profanities out of the open door, but you managed to block out his voice and instead focus on the sound of your shoes on pavement as you walked with your suitcase to wherever your feet would lead you.

you were completely done with his bullshit. coming home late claiming he was “working”, flirting with other girls when you two were out shopping, and, just like this night, leaving you stranded at some restaurant for some other chick. it wasn’t even the first time he’s done that. you were ready to leave him before this day had even started; you had spent a few days secretly putting all of your possessions into your handy suitcase, only putting away a couple things at a time so he wouldn’t notice the lack of your items in the house.

before you knew it, you were standing in front of a bar that you used to always go to with one of your dearest friends. “maybe he still comes here.” you thought as you made your way through the bar door and straight to a small booth in the far corner of the building. the same small booth that your friend and yourself had always sat at when you both would come here.

his name was james page, which he preferred jimmy, but you just used james instead to pick some fun at him. the two of you were the closest of friends, ever since your childhood where you fell off of your bike and he ran over to check to see if you were okay. he even went with you to your house just to make sure that you weren’t hurt. even as you both had gotten older, you would both help each other out with homework, watch movies together, and he even taught you some guitar chords and tricks.

the downfall of your friendship happened a while after he joined one of his first bands; the yardbirds. he would always be traveling, performing at different concert venues around the country, and even the world. at first you would just call him or he would call you on these tours, which worked well for awhile, until he got so busy with the band that he didn’t have any time to return your many missed calls.

you missed him dearly, thinking of him from time to time during the day. you often wondered what he was doing at the time when you thought of him, whether it was playing his guitar or just relaxing at wherever he may call home.

you stood up to go grab a beer, hoping to wash your thoughts away, when a very familiar sound reached your ears. it was his laughter. the same sweet laughter you grew fond of whenever you’d be around him. you didn’t know how much you longed to hear that sound again until that very moment, it almost held you in a trance until the beautiful sound melted away and the song that the jukebox was playing had replaced it.

“i was probably just imagining it.” you thought. running a hand through your hair to try and focus back on reality, you continued to the bar, a fairly large opening right in front of you that you could get to quickly. when you reached the bar, you heard a familiar voice say, “(y/n)! long time no see!” you looked up to see the bartender, florence. she has been the same bartender since you and jimmy started coming to this bar, usually just to hang out and talk about different things. you were still surprised that she still worked here, she’s not as young as she used to be, but you were glad that she was here and not some other new bartender.

“hey flo! how’s everything been recently?” you smiled lightly, not really in the mood to talk a lot, but willing to make small conversation with your old friend. “quite good dear! it’s been boring without yourself and jimmy constantly making a ruckus in here though, i kind of miss having to tell the manager about how you two broke the jukebox again!” florence joked, causing you to let out a small laugh. “yeah, those were the good old days, weren’t they?” she smiled. “they really were. anyway! how about a drink for you aye?”

“whiskey. any kind will do.” you replied, which flo nodded and went off to get your drink, coming back in record time with a glass about half way filled with the golden-brown alcohol. you smiled and said a quick “thank you” and carefully took the glass, bidding flo a farewell and she returning it.

you walked back over to your seat, the chat with florence clearing your mind of the earlier events and bringing your mood up a bit. she always had that effect on people, making them crack even a slight smile when they’re feeling blue. right as you were about to sit down, the voice that you never thought you’d hear again called out, “(y/n)? is that you?”

you set your glass down, mentally preparing to see him for the first time in a long, long time. holding your breath, you turn around and see him, the jimmy page, your old best friend. “james?” his hair was longer, barely reaching to his shoulder, and it was slicked back slightly, showing his beautiful green eyes. his smile was still the same, and you swore your heart did a backflip when he smiled at you and said “oh (y/n) i knew it was you! i couldn’t miss that gorgeous hair of yours anywhere.”

you were pretty sure that your face was bright red as you smiled bashfully. “oh thank you jim. and i see you grew yours out hm?” he chuckled, running his hand through his hair softly and said “yeah, i just thought why the hell not you know?” “mhm! i like it a lot, it suits you.” you said back, nudging his shoulder with your knuckle.

he grins and mumbles a quick “thanks”. he then looks back up at you and says “wanna sit and chat for awhile? catch up on all the times we missed?” you nod, motioning for him to sit at the opposite side of where your drink is, and he sat, you following his actions and sitting down as well. you grabbed your glass of whiskey and took a long sip of it, leaving only a small amount left in the bottom of the cup. jimmy’s eyes followed your hand as you set it back on the table, then his eyes flicked back up to meet yours, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“is everything alright? i haven’t seen you drink like that in, well, i’ve never seen you drink like that.” you sighed, drawing your finger around the rim of the cup gently. “if i’m being honest, no. a year after we, y’know, stopped talking, i found a guy and we got along quite well and started dating.” you noticed jimmy’s hand clenched into a fist, so you continued.

“everything was fine between us, until recently. he started going after other girls, even with me around him. he even asked me on a date just so i would stay, because i told him that if he doesn’t get his shit together then i’m just going to leave. we were supposed to meet at a restaurant, but of course he didn’t show up even when he’s the one who wanted me to go with him and not the other way around. so i went back to our former shared house and found him fucking some random chick that i’ve seen him flirt with before.” you stared at your drink, before grabbing it and finishing it off. as soon as you set the glass back, jimmy’s hand softly reached for yours and held it, caressing his thumb over your knuckles.

you rose your eyes up to meet jimmy’s, his eyes holding a soft, caring look, the same look that you’ve longed to see for many years. “it’s fine though, really. it’s not like i really loved him anyway..” you lied, thinking of when you first met chris, how happy he made you. but you realized that a certain someone, perhaps the someone sitting across from you, had made you happier than chris could’ve.

“(y/n) love, your lying eyes really give away that you did love him at one point, and it’ll take a while to try and un-love him, trust me.” a soft hand came in contact with your cheek, gently wiping a stray tear away that you didn’t notice had fallen. looking back up at jimmy, you smiled at him and brought your hand that wasn’t occupied and rested it against his. “i know jimmy, but i think i’ve already moved on from that asshole.”

his eyes flashed with a glimmer of hope, and he softly nodded, a small smile painting his face. he paused, then cautiously asked; “i know we’ve only talked for a few minutes, and you can refuse this offer, but how about we ditch this bar and go somewhere else?” you brought jimmy’s hand down to rest on the table, holding them both with your warm hands and nodded. “yeah, i’d like that.” he stood up from the seat, pulling you up with him.

“well then, what are we waiting for?”

tag list: @rebel-without-a-zeppelin @asetcrowley @reincarnated70sbaby @thebeatlesuniverse @princesspagey @jonesyjonesyjonesy

#jimmy page x reader #jimmy page fanfic #led zeppelin #jimmy page #john paul jones #john bonham #robert plant #classic rock #classic rock fanfic #i’m so proud of this HELP

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heavenbarnes · 5 years ago

Text

when it’s that time of night

Jim Hopper x Reader

Warnings/Contains: swearing, dirty talk, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, mentions of masturbation, fully clothed sex, implied age gap, canon-typical spookiness

Word Count: 3.4k

i finally finished stranger things and i’m just as hot for hawkins chief of police as i was when i started, so here we are x

Gathered around Joyce Byers' kitchen table, your gaze flickered between the comotion unfolding in front of you, and Hopper. Things had undeniably changed since that evening, and those same things had only seemed to get, well, stranger. A silly part of you hoped that if you glared at him hard enough, things would start to become clear.

"I wouldn't normally do this, but you're about one of the only people I can trust."

Jim stood on your doorstep with three of the neighborhood kids, and one young girl you'd not seen before. This was not something you anticipated when you started seeing Hopper, but nevertheless, you stepped aside and let them in.

Maybe that was why he had brought them hear, because it was in your nature to care more about their safety than what made sense. You let the kids have your TV remote and flick through your records, before you turned back to Hopper with a kind of expression that said "you do this with all the girls that let you sleepover?"

And after that, in all hushed tones in your very small kitchen, Jim divulged tales of disappearing children and ones that could move things with their mind.

"I just need you to keep them safe for a few hours, then I'll explain even more."

As much as he did explain, you felt like the more you saw and heard, the less you knew. Listening to these kids, try to tell you that Joyce's son had been kidnapped by the monster from their boardgame? You felt like you needed to lay down a while.

Your skills ranged from serving diner meals on rollerskates, and driving the neighborhood boys crazy in the process. You weren't sure how you'd fear as a monster hunter. Young Jonathan Byers snapped you from your thoughts by throwing a theory out to the group.

"So for us to strike whilst the iron is hottest, we'd just need to know when it will all start happening again?"

Everyone murmured in agreement but Hopper wasn't having it.

"Ok, so when exactly would that be? Are you going to tell me there is just a time that these things are all going to kick off?"

Your ears pricked up and suddenly your mouth was opening before your brain could catch it.

"Three in the morning." That had everyone's eyes on you.

Not used to hearing you join in on these things, Hopper prompted you to carry on.

You pushed up off the wall you were leaning against and spoke again. "Three in the morning, the witching hour."

"What is the witching hour?" Jonathan pressed you further.

"My Grandmother used to tell me about it, in folklore they say that three in the morning is the witching hour." You stepped further towards the table where they had all congregated.

"It's when the veil between this part of the world," One of your hands lay flat beneath your chin, whilst the other lay palm turned up in line with your belly "And this part of the world,"

"Like Australia?" Dustin questioned, receiving a smack in the arm from Mike.

"No, like the underworld or what you guys call the upside down, it's when the veil between the two is at it's thinnest allowing the unforgiving to travel through."

They all looked from each other and back to you, beginning to fear that you might be onto something.

"Believe me, I work in a 24-hour diner, if things are going to get strange it's going to be at three in the morning."

"What kind of strange?" Joyce spun round at that comment, a sort of pleading in her eyes.

"The lights will pulse, and the machines will start to get these electricity surges, I hate working the nights in there." The look she gave you began to prick the hairs on the back of your neck. "Why are you looking like I've just laid the last piece in your puzzle?"

"Because I think you just have."

Ever since you spoke the witching hour theory into existence, you hadn't been able to get it off your mind. That very next day, your boss called the house and told you that you'd be on the night shift, and Veronica's kid had mono so you'd be doing it alone.

Something told you that you'd made a mistake speaking it outloud, that now this- well whatever this was, but now that it knew you knew it's secrets, it was onto you. However that could've all been crazy, and maybe Hawkins was getting lazy with it's electrical and it just got screwy when they thought everyone was sleeping.

Regardless, it was now 1.41am and there wasn't a customer in sight. It was just you, the empty diner, and the fast approaching witching hour. For the first time in your life, you actually wished one of the town's teenage boys would come in and hound your for a date, just so you had some company.

You resorted to wiping down the counter for about the 30th time that night, a spot of mess at the one of the back booths catching your eye. Leaving the counter, you roller-skated down the back of the store and cleaned up the leftover baskets and napkins. You were bent over the table, flicking the the cloth over the surface when you heard it. The bell on the door.

Your blood rain cold and just about every hair on your body stood on end. An unexplainable feeling drifted over you, that feeling when you know it's all gone wrong, but there just isn't anything you can do about it. That feeling enveloped you and it took over you, you couldn't even bring yourself to turn your head.

Heavy, heavy steps were heading your way and you knew it was do or die. You could try shoot the gap to the backroom, that or beat whatever it was with your bare hands. As it got closer you geared up all your strength and spun around on your skate in an instant.

"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU STUPID FUCKING-"

"GOD, PUT YOUR ARMS DOWN WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"

Hopper gripped your wrists and stilled you moments before you lay your fists in his eye sockets. Your breathing slowly came back down to a normal pace, but you could still feel your pulse rattling around in your body. Of course it was just Hopper, of course it wasn't a boardgame monster stopping by for a snack.

"What are you doing here?" You still sounded exasperated as you pulled your arms from his grip and threw yourself into his chest.

He brought both his arms around your shoulders and pulled you further into him, giving you a moment to calm yourself down. "I came in to keep you company, I know you've been a little on edge since you brought up that shit at the Byers' house."

"God, thank you so much, I'm sorry for trying to beat you to death." Voice muffled by his chest, your sentiments were still appreciated.

He brought you back down to the front of the shop and you took one side of the counter each. Fixing him a coffee as a half-hearted apology for the near miss, you slid it across the counter to take place of an olive branch. He accepted with a grin, unable to stay mad at you, even when you're trying to knock his teeth out.

"I am actually so sorry, I really have been on edge, I don't know why." Your head fell into your hands, gently tugging at your own hair.

"Hey, hey come here." He called you around the counter, turning around in his stool as you got closer.

Pulling you between his spread legs, you settled back into his hold, allowing those big hands to rub down the spanse of your back. Even his touch alone could soothe you, even when you were still a little terrified of a time on the clock. His hands moved to your lower back, gently rubbing away all the tensions you'd held inside you for sometime.

There was something about Hopper, from the moment you finally let him drive you home after a shift, giving in to his multitudes of compliments about your roller-skates and your coffee pouring and your little uniform. He was warm and he was kind, he made you laugh and he felt good when he wrapped himself around you. Oh, and it couldn't be forgotten that the Hawkins Chief of Police was unbelievable in the sack.

"You got any customers tonight?" His voice rumbled against your whole body, sounding from deep insdie his chest.

You pushed back from him, letting his hands fall to your waist and your eyes meet, your fingers played with the buttons of his uniform.

"Not since 11.30, and I won't see anymore, I never do." You sighed, tipping your head back with a petty groan. "I still don't know why they have me here so late."

Hopper's hands drifted lower, ever so slightly, until his fingers were toying with the hem of your dress. The gentle touch pricked your skin up, understanding from a touch alone exactly what his intentions were. You kept your gaze fixed on his, a look in your eye that almost seemed to say "go for it."

One of his hands took yours, long fingers slotting between yours as he pulled you out from between his legs. Your roller-skates glided you easily along the linoleum floor, putting you out in front of him.

"Do a twirl for me?" His mouth quirked up into a smirk, making a heat rise up your neck and settle at your cheeks.

You didn't so much agree as he did it for you, lifting your arm and twirling you around on the wheels of your skates. If your dress wasn't so tight, it would've spun around you, but your apron did it for you. An unmissable grin spread across Jim's face, watching your little pose at the end as you both giggled.

"I believe they have you here so late to keep you in this little uniform just a bit longer." His voice was gruff, pulling you towards him again.

"Oh is that what it is?"

"That is what it is," His hands went back to the hem and seemed to sneak under it. "It's to make life harder for me."

"So, this is about you?"

"All about me, it's so I have to sit at home and just think about your pretty ass skating around in this tiny fucking dress, and there isn't anything I can do about it."

It got hotter in the diner, right in that very moment, you could feel it spreading across your body as you lent into him. Your lips ghosted just moments above his, so close he could feel your breath on his skin.

"Well you aren't at home now," You whispered, very nearly placing your lips on his. "What are you 'gonna do about it?"

He didn't have to tell you, it was rather a display to show you what he'd do. His lips came to yours, his signature was a domineering kiss that left you reeling an unable to think of anything else afterwards. His kisses left a hold over you, the way his tongue felt against yours, the way his hands moved against you. This man had you good.

Standing up from the stool, he wrapped one hand around your waist, pulling you flush against him in one swift movement. Your hands went up to his jaw, feeling his coarse beard under your fingers as you pulled his face closer to yours. One of your hands took his hat from the top of his head and hung it off the register beside you.

Hopper kept his hand on your waist, and left the other go beneath your thigh. In one swift motion he lifted you, placing you down on the counter before pushing the skirt of your dress up your legs. With a hand on each knee, he spread them apart and pulled you right to the edge, pushing himself between them to get even closer.

You moaned into his mouth, the feeling of him handling you like his brought a wave over you, making your legs shake around him. One of his hands traveled higher up your thigh, making it's way past the bunched fabric and between your legs. Two fingers pressed firmly against the seat of your underwear and it was made apparent, just how wet he'd gotten you.

"Fuck, little lady you are always so good for me, aren't you?" His voice was nearly a bark, lips moving down your jaw and to your throat.

"I try my best, chief."

His motions stopped at the sound of that name, and within in instant he was pulling your underwear down your legs. It hung around one of your roller-skates as he pushed both your legs over his broad shoulders, leaning you back till you were perched up on your elbows.

Hopper's mouth found the meeting of your thighs, his tongue coming out to lick a fine stripe along your heat. Your mouth fell open and your hands flew to his head, fingers threading into his hair as he began to move his tongue against you.

Gasps and nearly pathetic whimpers fell from your lips as he worked against your clit, rolling it against his tongue with unreal precision. The only word leaving your lips was his title, the sound of chief filled the diner and bounced off the windows.

His hands gripped your thighs, holding them apart as your body willed you to clamp them around his head. Your hips rolled forward, pressing you further into his mouth as his tongue moved down further before coming back up to that one spot.

So quickly, you could already feel that tension building inside you, a fine line of pleasure that was ready to snap. His eyes rose up to you, locking with you and making about every muscle inside you tighten. That look in his eye, it could've killed you the way you knew exactly what it meant.

He had a sweet tooth only you were pretty enough to sate.

One of his hands left your thigh and moved below the counter, you listened to the sound of his belt buckle as he haphazardly undid it one-handed. You heard his fly next and it was incredibly apparent that he was palming himself as his tongue still moved against you.

The thought, the image in your mind, the sounds he made as he moaned against your wetness it was all too much. Your head tipped back, fingers tightened in his hair as you cried out for him. You felt that line snap as your release washed over you.

Hopper never let up, lips still pursed around your clit as you rode out your high, nearly overtaking you. He never went to far, always new the line and he pulled back as he stood to full height. Your legs fell to his sides and you looked up to see him grasping himself in his hand.

His other hand trailed against your sensitive heat, two fingers dragging through the wetness that remained there.

"You have the sweetest fucking pussy I've ever got my hands on." He growled as he dove in for a kiss, the taste of you ever present on his lips.

He took that hand from between your legs and used it to slick up his cock, twisting your wetness around himself as he lay his head at your entrance. He dragged it along your sensitive cunt, before slowly pushing his way in.

The gasp that fell from you was iminent, Jim had a stretch like nothing else. Your body relaxed into this kiss and into him until he was hip-deep within you.

"And your pussy is so fucking tight, I can't believe how lucky I got."

"It's all for you, chief, fuck me like you mean it."

So he did, his hands slid to the other side of the counter and gripped the edge before he delivered the first incredible blow. Your back arched up and a cry was ripped from within you as he pumped his hips quickly against your own.

Your hands shot up to grip his arms, feeling the muscles tensing beneath the cotton of his work shirt. Legs tensing up around his hips, moans and whimpers still steadily coming from you, it only seemed to spur him on like he was listening for the way you fell apart for him.

"You look so good taking my cock, pretty girl." He huffed, one hand leaving the counter to come and grip your hip.

He pulled you back against him with every thrust, striking deep inside you and rolling your eyes back in your head. Still on edge from the flood of pleasure he had just dipped you in, you felt like you were right there, teetering on the edge and waiting to be pushed over.

Always knowing exactly what he was doing, exactly what would drive you crazy and have you falling apart around him. Maybe this is what it had all been about, that talk about being with an older man, you'd heard the stories and he'd proven them all right.

From the moment you'd started sleeping over with each other, Hopper had changed your life. You didn't know if you could go back to nights without getting your back blown out by Jim Hopper. He would always talk about how he couldn't believe he got a pretty young thing like yourself, but you didn't know how you'd lucked out on someone that made you feel the way he did.

Gripping onto his uniform and crying out for him, you felt that hand on your hip slip down to your clit, rubbing furious circles against it. Another moan of that name, that title that until you had said it, was nothing more than a work give name. Now, the way that you said it gave it a whole new meaning.

It had gotten so bad that he had to stop asking you to call him that in front of people, after he'd pitched a tent the day you visited him at the station. Now that was reserved for teasing.

The way he touched you, how he knew your body, it had you dangerously close to coming undone for him once again that evening. Your heat clenched around him, dragging him in with a raw cry ripping out of your throat and rising above the both of you.

That line snapped once more and you couldn't help the way your hips rose from the counter and your body twitched under the mountain of pleasure. Over the sound of your own blood rushing in your ears, you could hear the words of encouragement coming from Hopper.

He rode out your high with you again, pulling you back against him and refusing to let up as you felt him faltering slightly. "That's my good girl, 'gonna make me come."

You reached your hands up his chest, pulling against his shirt as you arched your back for him again. Your lips pursed as you mustered the strength to call out to him.

"Come for me, chief."

And that was enough to do it for him, his hips stilling tight against you as he came deep in you. Grunts and chopped cries of your name could be heard as he pulled you flush towards his chest, arms wrapped under your back as his heart hammered against both of your chests.

He let you back down from the counter, fixing himself as you pulled up your underwear and smoothed out your uniform. You placed his hat back on his head as he sat back on the stool, before you slotted back between his thighs.

As he wrapped his arms back around you, you heard, and then you saw it. That electrical pulsing, that buzzing that seemed to come from the lightbulbs. Right as your heart-rates had just come back as they should, you physically felt yours pick up again.

"Baby, what'd you call that damn time again?"

Your eyes moved from the flickering lights to the big clock on the wall, the one you usually focused on for your breaks. The hands were pointing clear as day, three in the morning.

"The witching hour."

#jim hopper smut #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x female reader #david harbour smut #david harbour x reader #david harbour x female reader

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make-me-imagine · 4 years ago

Text

Prompts: “Don’t push me away” + ‘First realization of love’

Pairing: James “Jim” Moriarty x GN!Reader

Requested by: Anonymous

Warnings: Kissing towards the end.

Words: 2.1k

Note: It’s been a while since I’ve watched Sherlock; sooo sorry if the characterization of Moriarty is a bit off.

This went in a bit of a different direction than I originally intended, but it came out better I think. And pretty damn long lol.

*Flashback*

“Ohh, and who are you?” his voice asks in curiosity, with a hint of a mocking tone in his voice as he eyed you, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Don’t think I’m stupid enough to think you don’t know that” You said confidently, not wanting him to sense your unease.

Your comment seemed to almost catch him by surprise as he cocked is eyebrow before a smirk spread across his face.

“Y/n L/n”. Your name fell easily from his lips.

You showed no emotion as he said your name, you knew he knew your name. He probably knew everything about you by now. You suspected he might, ever since you started to work with Sherlock.

Jim’s eyes moved from yours, though almost reluctantly as he looked at Sherlock “Shall we get to business then?”

“Why don’t you tell us why we are here first?” Sherlock asked.

“Oh please, as if you don’t know” Jim chuckled, almost exasperated by Sherlock playing dumb.

Sherlock remained quiet for a moment “There is a new player in town. Someone getting in your way. You want to offer us something in return for getting them out of your way.”

A slow smile spread across Jim’s face “Oh I don’t want to offer you anything. I want us to work together.”

This comment surprised you, John, and even Sherlock. All of you knew there had to be something else. Nothing was straight forward with Moriarty. But, this “new player” was causing trouble for all of you. So, none of you really had a choice it seemed.

Moriarty’s gaze moved from Sherlock and landed on you; he seemed to study you for a moment before he smirked “This is going to be fun”.

*Now*

The memory of your first meeting with Jim ran through your mind as Sherlock paced around the flat. It had been a couple months now, and the newest criminal in town was reeking havoc. Apparently even for Moriarty, which seemed to just piss him off.

You still believed that Moriarty could easily have gotten rid of him, but by now you figured he just wanted to terrorize Sherlock by bringing him into it. And unfortunately, with Sherlock, came you and John.

Jim seemed to have a soft spot for you. At least, that’s how it seemed on the surface. He was a good actor. So you never trusted it. No matter how much his gaze made you shiver, or how attractive you thought he was. You could not fall for him. That would be the stupidest thing you could do. You could never trust someone like Jim Moriarty, and you knew it. But if you knew it, why couldn’t you stop the way you felt?

Letting out a sigh you stood from the chair, earning a look from John, but nothing from Sherlock.

“I’m going home. I’ll bring you the information Sherlock requested tomorrow” you told John, knowing full well Sherlock wasn’t listening.

John nodded “Be careful on your way home.”

As you began walking down the street towards your flat, only a few blocks away, your mind ran over the case again. You and John often had no idea what was happening, as Sherlock and Moriarty rarely shared the more important information. It just seemed that you and John were along for the ride.

Continuing down the empty street, your eyes landed on a figure in the shadows. Your heart began to pound as a gut feeling that began to grow.

As you studied the figure, you seemed almost relieved as you recognized the stature of the figure, the familiar way they were leaning against the wall telling you who it was.

Stopping under the light of a lamp-post, you called out to the figure, still shrouded in darkness, but clearly looking at you. “What are you doing here, Jim?”

As he stepped into the light, his grin became clear “Recognized me did you?” He walked up to you, stopping right in front of you. “I just wanted to make sure you made it home alright, these streets are dangerous at night” he said playfully.

You rolled your eyes as you stepped past him, continuing up the street as you spoke back to him. “The only dangerous thing on this street is you”

“I’ll take that as a compliment” he commented, now following you.

“What do you really want?” you asked bluntly.

You heard a chuckle from behind you as he almost skipped to catch up to you. Now as he was walking right next to you, his shoulder brushing yours, you had to resist looking over at him, even as you felt his gaze burning into the side of your face.

“I have a proposition for you” he finally said.

You let out a dry chuckled “There it is” you spared a glance at him, seeing that though there was still a small smile on his face, his eyes were intense “What kind of proposition would that be then?” you were curious as to what he wanted from you, though you knew you would reject it no matter what it was.

“I want you to join me.”

You stopped in your steps, turning to him “Join you? In doing what?”

“I need someone to be my partner”

“In crime?”

“Not necessarily. In business, I know you are too....good, to do the crime part” he smiled as he continued “I was originally going to ask Sherlock but he hates me too much, and I’m over that.”

You scoffed as you began to walk again, approaching your apartment building “So I’m second choice then?” you asked playfully “What makes you think I don’t hate you?”

It startled you when Jim suddenly grabbed your arm, stopping you. He spun you around, your face now close to his, noses almost touching. “I can see it. That you don’t hate me. You want too, oohh, you really want to. But.You.Don’t”

He stared at you as you remained silent, his eye boring into yours.

After a moment you spoke, “You’ve done too many horrible things for me not to hate you” you countered, rejecting the thought of not hating him.

Jim smirked, shaking his head “And that’s why you try to reject the feelings you get around me, isn’t it?” you opened your mouth to speak, but he moved closer, his face not even an inch from yours, causing you to falter in your words as he stared into your eyes before, his eyes flicked around your face, studying you.

When he spoke again, his voice was quiet, his breath against your face “I know you don’t want to feel this. But you can’t stop it now. Neither can I. So I’m telling you. Asking you. Don’t push it away. Don’t push me away.”

You hated the doubt you felt rising in your body. Not doubt towards him, but doubt towards yourself. Deep down you knew you had feelings for him. You shouldn’t. And you did hate that you did. But how could you stop it?

“I can’t- I don’t-” you hesitated, unsure of what to say “You’re the bad guy” you finished, as if trying to convince yourself.

Your heart pounded in your chest as Jim raised his hand, gently placing it against your face “But that excites you doesn’t it?” he asked, his voice low.

For just a moment, just long enough, you felt your senses come back to you. Jim Moriarty is a good actor. And he doesn’t feel. Or does he? He’s tested you enough. You figure it’s time to test him.

“It does. And you are right. I do...feel, something for you” you admitted, seeing a spark appear in his eyes “But I can resist that” you added, making the spark fade as quickly as it appeared. You pulled way from him, taking a step back. “You’re a good actor Jim. You’re a good manipulator.” you repeated the words Sherlock seemed to embed in you. “You don’t feel, remember? You’ve said it enough. So, it doesn’t matter what I feel. I refuse to feel anything for someone who would feel nothing for me. Someone who would manipulate the goodness in me, take it from me. So, you may be right. I do have feelings for you, but I can resist them as long as it takes for me to learn what you feel, or, if you feel anything at all.”

*Jims POV*

Jim’s face fell as you spoke. He wasn’t angry, but somewhat resigned at your words. Mostly, because you were wrong. But how could he convince you?

He thought back on all the times he was with you. All the times he studied you, watched you. And all the ways you made him feel.

Originally you were just supposed to be a pawn, along with John. Pawns he and Sherlock could use when necessary. But the longer he was around you, the less he wanted to use you.

You were brave, smart, resilient, and you saw right through him, even being bold enough to call him out on his bullshit. Something you did the first time you ever met. Even from the first moment, you seemed to spark something in him. Something new. Something that frightened him, and intrigued him.

He tried to resist the growing feelings for you, it was not a good idea. You were Sherlock’s friend and colleague. You would never betray them by being with him. Maybe he could convince you. But why should he? When one of the things he so admired about you has how good you were. He did not want to corrupt that light, that made you so wonderful.

But try as he might to resist, he couldn’t. So he decided that instead, he would try to convince you to give in. To see what would happen. If you fully rejected him, that would be fine. It’s not as though he loved you. Right?

Wrong.

He realized as he placed his open hand against your face, looking into your eyes as he stood so close to you. He wanted to be closer. He wanted to hold you closer. Because that feeling that frightened him, intrigued him, confused him. Was love.

He felt it stronger as you spoke your true feelings, as you challenged his. As you pulled away from him, he felt his heart sink. He had convinced you he had no feelings, that he was acting. When all the time he was being himself, that he was feeling, for the first time, strongly, and for you.

He needed to convince you, you were wrong. He did feel. He was not acting. Both of you were scared, and angry. This should not be happening. The good falling for the bad, and the bad falling for the good. How cliché. How poetic.

*You’re POV*

As you pulled away from him, he seemed to retreat into himself. Did you finally catch him in a lie that he couldn’t cover up? Or was this resignation real?

You were almost taken aback when his face seemed to harden, he met your eyes with an intense gaze. Stepping towards you, you were unsure of what to do. So you stepped back. He stepped forward, you stepped back, your back pressing against the brick wall of a building.

As Jim took one final step towards you, you were unsure of what to expect. Was he going to yell, threaten you, hurt you?

Your thoughts and fear were erased when lips were suddenly pressed against yours, roughly, almost passionately. You were unsure of what to do as Jim’s hand gripped your waist, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss.

Just as you came to your senses, he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours “I feel.” His voice was quiet, almost hopeless, making you freeze. “And I hate it” he continued “I should not feel. But I do. But only for you” His eyes met yours as he rose his hand and pressed it against your face gently just as he had before “I’m not acting around you. I never have. I...want you”

Your breath caught in your throat as he said this, his eyes flicked back down to your lips, as he moved his hand, gently running his thumb against your bottom lip “I am falling in love with you against what I would say is my own will.” his eyes met yours again “And I think you’ve done the same.” He paused for a moment “Right?”.

Unsure of where any of this would go, you gave in, and nodded your head, causing a small smile to cross Jim’s face.

“We’re both doomed then aren’t we?”

“It would seem that way” you finally spoke, your voice quiet.

Jim smiled, his hand moving to cup your chin “At least it’s for a good reason” he smirked before quickly kissing you again. “And, no matter, how it ends, it will be exciting” he smirked.

xx End xx

Yes. I did just end it there. Because I’m horrible at endings and had no idea where to go from there lmao.

Please consider reblogging, as it is the best way to share creators work’s past their own followers. Feedback/Comments, and likes are appreciated as well~

If you’d like to be added to a fandom or character taglist, let me know!~

*Fic edited a bit on July 30, 2022

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childrenofthenightt · 4 years ago

Text

That’s The Way (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 5.7k

Warning(s): Jimmy and Y/N falling in love at first sight🥺, nsfw insinuations in the beginning but nothing bad, language

Author’s notes: It’s Jimmy time, mates! I’m so sorry for making you wait so long! Slow burns can suck like that sometimes. I hope you’re enjoying the plot so far, and that it wasn’t what you expected! There’s so much more drama to come, though, so I hope you’re excited for that😂 As usual, please enjoy, happy reading, and send us messages if you have theories, comments, music recommendations for the playlist, or if you want to be added to the tag list :)

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3

------

Y/N’s train ride home from The Yardbirds’ hotel was a constant swirl of what the fucks booming in her mind: what the fuck just happened, what the fuck does this mean, what the fuck am I doing, what the fuck is Jim doing, what the fuck will this become?

Out of all the things on God’s good, green earth he could have wanted, he wanted her to kiss him. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Y/N thought when she initially heard the request. Then, when she questioned it, he escalated it to a blowjob since she thought a kiss was “too tame.” Y/N eventually did kiss Jim, as he wished. She was pretty sure that he still wanted her to kiss him after his little upgrade, and boy, was she right. ‘He called me a princess’, she remembered...what the hell was that supposed to mean?

As contradictory as it was, her mind was racing with so many thoughts, yet, at the same time, none at all. She was in overdrive, unable to think straight. Y/N forced herself to come to her senses as the train neared her stop, since her parents could not see the sheer bewilderment in her eyes and facial expression as she walked into her home. They would ask question after question, interrogating her as if she had committed a crime they had to get to the bottom of. She had to admit, reluctantly, that this was exciting. The star-studded aspect of it, the secrecy… It was a rollercoaster ride, yet Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to get off anytime soon. In the back of her mind, though, she knew this little dalliance wasn’t going to lead to anything serious.

Jim, however, currently sitting at the foot of his bed in an empty hotel room, was in a complete daze. He couldn’t comprehend that this was reality. The most beautiful girl in the whole world had just sucked him off, and then kissed him! She was completely obedient yet willing, and adorably shy, blushing every two seconds. But the kiss. It was dizzyingly soft, sweet, and passionate on her part. To Jim, this meeting of lips was perfect. Addictive. Devastatingly addictive, like a drug. He wanted more. Her lips were something else to taste and feel. He wondered if she would ever come back to him with intimate intentions. Perhaps even to spend the night, or something even more serious. By the way she so often smiled in a bright and enthusiastic way, Jim thought she just might. He had come to the conclusion, after continuously replaying what had happened just minutes ago in his head, that he was falling hopelessly in love with this girl. His Y/N.

Jim had never felt like this before.

And he didn’t know what to do about it.

~~~~~~~~

A few weeks later...

Y/N’s mum had sent her and her brother Charlie by train into London to go grocery shopping, and perhaps to visit Carnaby Street, Portobello Market, and the Oxfam charity shops to get some new clothes for themselves. Pushing the cart around the supermarket, Y/N and Charlie looked intently at the handwritten list their mum had given them.

“Alright, what do we need next?” Y/N asked, her head tilted to see the small piece of paper.

“Uh, we still have to get oatmeal, eggs, and some fruits and vegetables,” Charlie replied, mirroring Y/N’s position as he gazed down at the list in his hands, which was slowly being painted with black ink. They were making good time, all things considered.

“Let’s go to the produce section then, so we can get everything all in one go,” Y/N decided, starting to push the cart in that direction.

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Charlie’s nod served as confirmation, and the two walked on, gazes captured every-so-often by the gaggle of people passing by.

Once the two siblings reached their desired destination, Y/N began inspecting the clear clamshell containers of assorted berries as Charlie went to fetch a bag of broccoli florets and a variety of potatoes. As Y/N began placing the fruit in the cart, she heard a familiar voice calling her name.

She turned around to see a very domestic-looking Jeff Beck, pushing around a grocery cart, just like she was. It was odd to see him going about his life as though he was just an ordinary working-class man, especially being the revered guitar god he was. Y/N laughed at the sight as he came over towards her.

“Hi Jeff,” Y/N greeted, walking over to give him a hug.

“Hello darling,” he responded, tilting the girl back and forth in the hug, long arms cradling her against his chest. “How are you doing?”

Y/N looked at him with a small grin after pulling away. An exhale passes through pursed lips as she replies. “As well as I can be, I guess. How ‘bout you?”

“Can’t complain,” he smiled, which then turned a little more solemn. He reached out a hand to place on her upper arm in solace. “I’m still really sorry about Sam, love. I wish I could’ve told you, but he swore me to secrecy… and I don’t want to lose my job just yet.”

“Don’t worry about it, I completely understand. It’s not your fault.” Y/N’s chuckle chimed through the air, much like the birdsongs that seemed to fill the space around them, and she paused, “I’ve done quite a bit of soul-searching recently, and I don’t think I truly loved him...the situation was all so new and exciting, that it made me believe I did. But now, I realize I didn’t.”

“I’m glad you found the light at the end of the tunnel, kid. But that’s life, Y/N. You win some and you lose some.”

“Thank you, Jeff. Really. For being so supportive,” Y/N said in gratitude, as Jeff flashed her a toothy smile.

“Ah, don’t mention it...actually, it’s funny I ran into you because I was actually going to call you, but I… may have lost your number.” A sheepish hand ran through the short hair at the nape of his neck, and Y/N giggles at the man’s hesitancy.

“That’s okay. Here, I’ll write it down for you,” Y/N grinned as she took out a spare piece of paper and a pen from her bag, “what did you need to call me for?”

Jeff watched Y/N’s hands as she scribbled down her number. Her handwriting was neat, soft spirals decorating the ends of her letters. Playful, yet full of grace. Just like her, Jeff thought. “There’s a May Ball at Queen’s College in Oxford on the 18th, and I was wondering if you’d like to come. It’s outdoors, and it should be a nice day.”

As Y/N handed Jeff the piece of paper, he continued. “More importantly, a good friend of mine is attending, and I thought you would like to meet him. You two are pretty similar, so I think you’ll hit it off really well.”

“Do you mean that this meeting is supposed to be a sort of… romantic proposition?” Y/N tilted her head in playful confusion.

Jeff smirked. “Not necessarily. He’s friends with the rest of the guys, so it’s only fair that you meet him, since we consider you a part of our inner circle.”

Y/N grinned at his statement, shaking her head, a chuckle tumbling past her lips. “Well, for the record, Jeff, I’m retired from dating for a while,” she admitted, “the whole thing with Paul shook me up a bit, and I need time to trust again, y’know?”

“Yeah, I understand. But my friend is a nice bloke, so I don’t think you’ll have to worry too much, or put up a front. If you’re uncomfortable, of course we can—”

Charlie came running up to Y/N’s cart and placed the bags of broccoli and potatoes inside. He then stood next to Y/N to see this stranger that she was talking to. Jeff noticed the little boy who suddenly appeared next to Y/N, and smiled warmly. Pointing to the boy, and changing his voice to be a bit gentler than usual, he asked, “Who’s this, Y/N?”

“This is my little brother Charlie,” Y/N said, softly putting her hand on her brother’s back, bringing him to the forefront. Charlie widely smiled at Jeff, baring his childish grin that was missing a couple teeth. Charlie couldn't wait until they grew in, because it would “finally make him look like a real man”, as he exclaimed so often at home.

Jeff crouched down to Charlie’s level and stuck out his hand to shake Charlie’s. “Nice to meet ya, mate. I’m Jeff, a friend of your sister’s.”

Charlie’s eyes widened as he recognized who this man was. “Jeff Beck?” Charlie asked hopefully, “as in the guitar god, Jeff Beck?”

Jeff chuckled as he looked up at Y/N. “Is this the shit you’ve been feeding him?” Y/N nodded and laughed.

“There’s an ounce of truth in that statement, isn't there, Beck?”

“Yes, I’m Jeff Beck, but I’m just the lead guitarist for The Yardbirds. The guitar god title goes to Hendrix, or Scotty Moore,” Jeff explained. What a humble change of pace for Jeff, Y/N thought.

Jeff stood back up and walked with Y/N and her brother throughout the store, pushing their carts in sync and grabbing food as they went. He asked her about what she was up to musically, and she talked about how she was polishing up some Debussy and Rachmaninoff pieces, as well as fiddling around with some old Fats Domino and Everly Brothers records. Charlie and Jeff bonded over their love of cars, which made Y/N very happy.

~~~~~~~~

18th June 1966

The day of the May Ball came. Y/N was excited for the show, but she didn’t want a sour encounter with Paul to ruin her good time. Jeff had called her earlier in the week to give her instructions on what to do upon arrival, and how to access the backstage area safely.

The backstage area was a white tent with the sides covered. Inside, there were multiple long tables of different distinguished people, such as Mama Cass and Graham Nash. Alcohol and little finger foods littered the tables, served in such abundance that it seemed no one was going to see tomorrow.

Y/N walked over to where she saw her friends, and upon spotting the girl, they all waved and said their cheerful hellos. Y/N walked over to sit with them, and ended up taking a seat between Chris and Jeff, crossing her legs and folding her hands in a sophisticated manner, always the lady she was taught to be. She chose her seat at the table very carefully, sitting very far away from Paul Samwell-Smith.

As everyone chatted away, she noticed there was a tall, thin young man with short, dark wavy hair who sat down in a seat between Jeff and Keith, delicately holding a flute of champagne. He was looped back into the conversation immediately, as if he had known the band his whole life. When Y/N saw him, her heart stopped.

This new boy was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He looked like an English James Dean; with the kind of attractiveness that anyone, male or female, completely swooned over with a single glance. This stranger could get anything he wanted at the drop of a hat, with his gorgeous looks and his graceful countenance. He had a sullen, mysterious edge to him, but he also looked gentle and sweet at the same time. He had eyes as green as a forest full of lush deciduous trees, flawlessly framed by dark, bushy eyebrows and accented by long, thick eyelashes. His nose was adorable, petite as it was, and his lips were full and pouty. His smile and laugh made Y/N melt on the inside, his perfectly straight teeth illuminating his porcelain face.

For a moment, Y/N thought she was in love. She was pulled back from her daydream quickly, though, because Jeff realized that now was the perfect opportunity to introduce his two friends.

“Y/N, this is my friend Jimmy, who I was telling you about,” Jeff said, getting Y/N’s attention. Y/N grinned as she refocused on the situation.

Jimmy turned towards Jeff when he heard his name, and that’s when he saw the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, sitting right next to Jeff. Lucky bastard.

His breath hitched in his throat upon sight of this girl. She was perfect; she looked like an actual angel. The way her hair, soft-looking and slightly wispy in the light summer wind, cascaded down her shoulders; her doe-eyes seemed to twinkle in the dimming light of day, pulling him in like the strongest of currents. Her pillowy, supple lips encased a perfect smile, slightly crooked. It was, like the rest of her, completely endearing.

It was then, looking at this beautiful woman, (Y/N… Jeff had said her name, hadn't he?) that Jimmy remembers he was taken. His girlfriend, Jackie DeShannon, was waiting for him at home, but he only had eyes for the girl in front of him, and it would stay that way, it seemed.. He had to get to know her.

Jimmy snapped out of his hypnosis in the nick of time. He softly smiled at Y/N, a smile that made Y/N’s insides lurch, holding out his hand for her to shake as he turned on the charm. “Jimmy Page,” he initiated, his voice being softer and more calming than Y/N expected.

Y/N shyly smiled at him, a dark pink flush gracing her natural complexion, as she reached out to grasp his hand. “Y/N Y/L/N. It’s so nice to finally meet you. Jeff has told me about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” Jimmy chuckled.

“Yeah, I’d say so,” Y/N beamed, a feigned contemplative look on her face.

“How do you know Jeff?” Jimmy asked, turning his body towards her, now fully invested in getting to know Y/N.

“I met him...a year ago I wanna say? Is that right, Jeff? At a Yardbirds gig at the Marquee,” Y/N asked for clarification. The last thing she wanted to do is lie about Jeff to Jimmy, even if it was something as insignificant as this. In addition, she wanted to use Jeff as a temporary crutch in the conversation. Jimmy’s beauty was making her feel shyer than she already was; she felt as if she was curling into herself.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Jeff intervened, “but she didn’t just meet me, she met the whole band.”

Jeff immediately noticed that the band was leaving the table to get ready to go on stage. Jimmy and Y/N didn’t even notice the table’s departure because they were so wrapped up in each other’s presence and words. Jimmy even moved a seat over to get closer to Y/N, although he said it was an attempt to “hear her better since the room was so loud of drunken buffoons”. Y/N had giggled at that, and it had sounded like music to the man’s ears. Jimmy was completely taken with her, as easy as it was to see.

“Wait, so how do you know Jeff?” Y/N asked curiously.

“I've known him since I was… gosh… thirteen or fourteen? We bonded over the guitar and blues. Indian music, too,” Jimmy grinned, taking a sip of his warming champagne.

“You play the guitar too?” Y/N gasped. Jimmy nodded his head enthusiastically.

“Oh jeez, I should’ve known! No wonder you’re tight with the Yardbirds,” she giggled.

Jimmy’s eyes twinkled at her now-flustered demeanor. “You’re okay, Y/N,” he chuckled, placing a hand gently on her forearm. Y/N felt her entire body break out into chills.

“I’m a session musician, actually,” he began, his hand lingering on the girl’s arm, for what seemed like a millennium to Y/N. “I’d hate to simplistically explain what a session musician is to someone like you if you already know what it is.” It sounded like he was holding back a bout of embarrassed laughter. “You must be quite intelligent, especially in matters of music, if Jeff has stuck by you for all this time.”

Y/N smiled bashfully. He’s so sensitive, she thought dreamily. “Yes, I know what a session musician is,” she giggled, “I’ve been a piano player all my life, so I know a thing or two about what you blokes are talking about when it comes to music.”

Jimmy’s heart began to thump a little faster as his smile widened. “Wow! That’s brilliant. Are you classically trained then?”

“Yes, but I do know quite a bit of blues numbers.”

“Oh, so you really know what you’re talking about! I have to admit, although I am a session musician, I’m not particularly good at reading music. Maybe you could teach me a few things about sight reading and we can jam some time?”

Y/N blushed as her lips pursed together in a grin. “I would love that. We’d have so much fun!” The way that Y/N’s full lips twisted together in a smile looked so damn kissable to Jimmy.

“My girlfriend was actually supposed to teach me music theory, but we never got around to it, unfortunately,” Jimmy continued.

“Ah, okay. Well, if you give me a time, date, and place, we can definitely make it work,” Y/N beamed.

“Wonderful!” An awkward, pregnant pause filled the space, and Y/N cleared her throat, unconsciously sliding closer to Jimmy. There was almost a magnetic pull to him, and Y/N was caught up in it.

“So, what’s it like being a session musician? I’m sure you get asked that all the time,” Y/N laughed.

Jimmy smiled. “It’s quite grueling, brutal at times, but I find it fulfilling. One mistake, and you’re fired, so it’s a lot of pressure.”

“Oh wow! That must be horrible to deal with.”

“Yeah, sometimes the pressure can really settle into you, but for me it dissipates once I’m in the booth. There’s three sessions a day, five days a week, so I don’t have much time for leisure. It’s been getting really dry lately since all I’m playing is rhythm guitar. I love experimentation and stretching out on lead guitar, so constant rhythm is getting quite annoying.”

“I understand where you’re coming from then, from a creative standpoint. How long have you been a session player?”

“Four years, roughly.”

“You must be quite dedicated then!” Y/N exclaimed, “who have you played with?”

“Oh gosh,” Jimmy exhaled deeply, calloused fingers raising to land on his chin. Slight stubble shadows it, and the sharp scent of aftershave wafted towards the girl. Lost in the scent, Y/N nearly missed his reply. “The Rolling Stones, The Kinks, Donovan, The Who, Petula Clark, Jackie DeShannon, Carter Lewis and the Southerners, Neil Christian and the Crusaders, Herman’s Hermits, Marianne Faithfull… just to name a few.”

“Wow! What a resumé!” she gushed, “That’s incredible. You should be so proud, Jimmy.”

“Thank you very much, love, I appreciate it.”

Suddenly, an announcer’s booming voice cut through Jimmy and Y/N’s conversation as he introduced the Yardbirds to the stage. As the five men walked on, Jimmy stood up from his chair.

“Come with me to the wings so we can see and hear them better,” he smiled, holding out his arm for Y/N to take. Y/N agreed, standing up and linking her arm with Jimmy’s as they walked in sync to the side of the stage.

The first few numbers were played perfectly, and it was clear that the audience (and even the road crew) were enchanted by the spectacle. Y/N knew from past shows that the next song would be “Train Kept A-Rollin’,” and she knew that they always knocked that one out of the park. It was always stimulating and explosive.

Jeff and Chris began the opening riff, the low E, G, and A notes thundering out of the monitors melodically. Just as Keith sang “got a train” on his cue, he fell straight backward and hit his head off Jim’s bass drum. Jimmy and Y/N’s jaws dropped in shock as a loud gasp echoed through the air from the audience. The music abruptly stopped as the rest of the band crowded around Keith’s fallen figure to see if he was alright. Murmurings of “fucking hells” were all that were spoken from the road crew as they tried to redeem the concert.

“He was drunk,” Jimmy whispered to Y/N giddily, “he was completely out to lunch and wobbling as he walked onstage.”

“I didn’t even notice,” Y/N replied quietly with a grin, “that definitely explains all the empty bottles and glasses on the table.”

Momentarily, Keith got back up and motioned for the band to restart “Train Kept A-Rollin’” and they finished the song without another mishap. The rest of the set was completed smoothly, and everything sounded sonically incredible. Jimmy and Y/N stood close together the entire time, Jimmy sneaking glances at Y/N from time to time. He lost his breath with the way her eyes were almost aglow in the fading light, and her soft-looking lips parted in childlike wonder as she watched the live music.

The Yardbirds came off the stage, begrudgingly making their way into the backstage tent, where Jimmy and Y/N had situated themselves. No one looked happy, especially Paul. Jeff had his usual stoic look, but he was rushing around for any alcoholic beverage he could find to ease his nerves after what could have been the worst possible scenario.

Everyone took a seat at the table where they were before the show. Jimmy and Y/N sat next to each other as they took in the distressed expressions of the five other men. Jeff was slumped in his chair, next to Jimmy, taking swigs of a beer he’d found. Jim and Chris just stared at the ground, drink in hand. Paul just looked royally pissed off, to the point that it almost scared Y/N. Keith, however, was still totally out of it in his drunken stupor.

“Hey, Jim,” Jeff said quietly to Jimmy, “look, you know, I’m really sorry about the gig. I’m sure you aren’t interested in joining the band now…”

“Oh no,” Jimmy chuckled, “that was amazing! Absolutely brilliant! I loved it.”

Y/N’s interest piqued as she heard their whispers of new information. “Wait! Jimmy’s joining the band? I thought there were only supposed to be five live Yardbirds,” she whispered.

Jeff leaned over Jimmy to whisper back to Y/N. “Oh yeah! I can’t believe I didn’t tell you this already. Paul is probably going to leave the group...and I think it might be sooner than we thought, especially after the whole Keith fiasco...Jimmy is going to take his place on bass, and hopefully he’ll take on dual lead guitar at some point. Then Chris will do bass,” Jeff’s eyes diverted to Paul, who was sitting with his arms crossed and face angry, staring off into space. Jimmy and Y/N followed Jeff’s line of sight mischievously.

“Oooh! Great plan,” Y/N smiled.

A little smirk creeped across Jeff’s face as he quietly counted down, “3...2...1…”

At the very prompt “1,” Paul abruptly stood up from his chair very loudly, capturing everyone’s attention.

“You know what? I’m done,” Paul exclaimed, stepping away from the chair as he pushed it in under the table.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Jim began, standing up from his own chair, “what do you mean ‘you’re done’? What the hell does that mean?”

Paul sneered at Jim. “What do you think I mean? I mean I’m done with this bullshit. I’ve had enough of the horrid travelling, not being noticed, and this drunk-off-his-ass bastard,” he exclaimed angrily, pointing at Keith.

“You need to relax, Sam,” Chris said gently, “look at everything we’ve accomplished over the last three years. You want to give that up? You’re losing your shit over one bad performance.”

“It’s been on my mind for a long time now, Chris. I fucking hate it,” Paul continued, anxiously running his hands through his hair, “and you know what? Y/N hanging around all the time has made it worse. She’s just here to be our fucking groupie. She’s only eating off our clout to be friends with famous people.” The entire table went silent, looking around nervously.

Y/N’s eyes widened at Paul’s awful accusation. “Are you serious?” she shot back coldly, “I knew you were an asshole, but I didn’t know it was this bad.”

“Oh what, you think I don’t recognize that that’s your motive?” Paul said condescendingly.

“If you think that being absolutely obsessed with you all is my sole hobby, my motive, whatever that means... you are sadly mistaken,” Y/N responded, her eyes closing to slits and her lips pressed together in disgust.

“You’re probably sleeping with Jim or Chris now for all I know!” he shouted, arms flailing in the air.

Y/N was fuming now, standing up from her own chair facing Paul. “How dare you make me seem like I’m a whore for the Yardbirds! Even if I was sleeping with Jim or Chris, that would be none of your business because you pursued me when you were fucking married, you dipshit.”

Paul’s maddening countenance grew. “You’re just an insecure little girl who needs famous musicians around her to validate her and make feel better about herself. You’re a fucking nuisance, like a gnat that just won’t fly away even when you swat at it again and again.”

Y/N gasped, the sound drowned out by the screech of metal against tile, as Jimmy stood up from his chair. He was distraught, upset at the antics between the two bitter exes, and stepped in front of Y/N to protect her from the horrible verbal blows served by Paul Samwell-Smith. Jeff beat him by a second, as he started to berate Sam for his little episode.

“You listen up, you wanker,” Jeff started, wagging his index finger in front of Sam’s face, “you’re just being a butthurt little bitch because Y/N found out that you were married. If anyone’s the whore here, it’s you. Y/N is our friend, even Jimmy’s now, and she takes care of us and makes us happy. She’s not just some whimsy, disposable groupie like the way you used her; she’s an intelligent, sweet, pretty girl who has our best interest at heart. And we have hers. You have to be a fucking idiot not to see that.”

Paul was taken aback. “I write, produce, and play bass for this group. All you do is play lead guitar. Trust me, Beck, I’m not the idiot here.”

“Well, your goddamn head isn’t screwed on straight, then,” Jimmy added, “I’ll be taking your place, thank you very much. And you will never mistreat Y/N on my watch. Ever. I’ve known her for about an hour, and she’s already absolutely magnificent.”

Y/N’s throat felt clenched, but some of the tension was relieved when she realized how protective Jimmy was being over her. As mad as she was, butterflies filled her stomach at his warm ways.

“I’m out of here! You all suck anyway. Have a nice trip to hell, all of you,” Paul said as he walked away to the road crew to get his belongings, flipping the people at the table off.

Y/N sat back down in her chair once Paul was out of sight, slouching and holding her cheeks with her hands as she blankly stared at the edge of the table. Jimmy and the four Yardbirds dragged their chairs closer to a saddened Y/N, who was determined to fight off the tears that threatened to roll down her fury-flush cheeks.

Jeff frowned at the state of his friend, starting to softly rub her cardigan-clothed back to console her. “I’m so sorry about Sam, Y/N. His behaviour was absolutely horrendous, and I can assure you, none of the things he said about you were even close to being true.”

Keith, still a bit drunk, stood up and walked over to Y/N, planting a peck on her cheek. “We’re so glad you’re here, dear. Truly. That belligerent little asshole can suck a fat one.”

A close-lipped smile found its way on Y/N’s lips. “Thanks Keith,” she chuckled.

“I’m going to go get you a cup of water, alright love?” Chris said as he stood up to walk over towards the bar.

“Thank you so much Chris,” she called after him. Chris flashed her a kind smile as he walked away.

I guess Mum and Dad were wrong...they really do care about me, Y/N thought happily, they really, truly do.

~~~~~~~~

After the May Ball was over, and the sky was growing darker with the coming evening, Jimmy and Y/N walked around the grounds of the venue together, talking about anything and everything and sharing laughs.

The lighthearted mood took a drastic shift at one of Jimmy’s followup questions.

“So, Y/N, if you don’t mind me asking, what was the whole row between you and Sam about?”

Y/N flashed a sad smile, but it quickly faded as she took a deep exhale. “Well—”

Panicked, Jimmy took this as a cue that she didn’t want to talk about it. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I get it because of how heated it was. I’m just worried about you, is all,” he interrupted.

“No, it’s okay. Really. I trust you,” she replied with a pursed lip-smile. Jimmy returned the sentiment, internally relieved that Y/N had already seemed to take a liking to him.

“Alright, so about a year or so ago, I went to a Yardbirds gig at the Crawdaddy Club, a few months after I met the band for the first time. Paul asked me out after that show, and nobody told me he was married, so naturally, I accepted.”

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, love. What a shitty thing to do, especially to someone as wonderful as you,” Jimmy replied with a little flush, giving the girl a little rub on the small of her back.

Heat rippled throughout Y/N’s body at his touch. Regaining her composure, she sighed. “Thank you Jimmy. That means a lot. More than you know, actually.”

After a short silence, Y/N continued. “We went out for about eight months...and in retrospect, it now makes sense why I could never go over to his place. But anyway, I found out about it before the band played on Ready, Steady, Go in February. Keith, Jeff, Jim, and I were all talking at the front of the stage before rehearsals and it slipped.”

“Who ended up telling you?”

“Jim, but it was purely an accident.” Suddenly, all of the events that had happened between her and Jim guiltily flooded her mind. Now with Jimmy beginning to infiltrate her mind and cloud her vision, how was she supposed to genuinely enjoy the secrecy? Ah shit, she thought, here we go again.

“After the show, I confronted him about it,” Y/N continued, “and he was blaming me for our time together, a-and for ‘tempting’ him into asking me out just by being… me?”

“He seems like a right wanker, I can tell you that for sure,” Jimmy muttered, sliding his hand from its resting place on her back, to her shoulder, squeezing it lightly in solidarity. Y/N met his eyes then, tears filling her gaze, and Jimmy frowns. No one as lovely as her should be feeling this way. He smiles at her, and to Y/N, it is filled with comfort and appreciation. Some emotion… something akin to love, perhaps, lit a fire in her chest, and she looks away. The evening ambience does nothing to hide the traitorous blush that painted her cheeks.

“It’s getting quite dark out, love. How did you get here?” Jimmy asked, stealing another glance at a girl as she looked down at her ballet flats once more.

“I took the train, actually,” Y/N replied.

“Oh, so did I! Here, I’ll walk with you over to the station then.”

Y/N grinned at him. “That’s so kind of you, Jimmy. Thank you.”

“No problem, love. What’s your stop?” Jimmy asked as they began to make their way over to the station.

“St. Alban’s. How about you?”

“Epsom. I still live with my parents, I’m afraid,” he chuckled sheepishly.

“Oh, it’s okay!” she laughed with him, “so do I. It’s nice though, to still live with your parents… home-cooked meals and laundry and all. Plus sleeping in your own bed, and using your own bathroom, of course.”

“Those are very good points,” Jimmy agreed with a chuckle.

The two boarded the train once they got to the station, only waiting on the platform for a few minutes. They continued to talk all the way to St. Albans, where Y/N got off to walk home.

“Say you’ll see me again sometime soon, Y/N,” Jimmy half-asked, half-declared as she stood up to get off the train.

Y/N grinned at him. “I definitely will, Jimmy. It was so nice meeting you tonight...I loved getting to know you.”

“The feeling is mutual, love. Please stay safe and take care of yourself, okay?” he reached out his hand to grab Y/N’s, shaking it a little and smiling at her. Y/N nearly swooned at the gesture.

“I’ll try my best. You do the same as well. Have a good night!”

“Thank you, you too!” Jimmy waved as Y/N walked out the train’s doors. Her scent, a delicious mixture of vanilla with a hint of laundry detergent, lingered in the air as she passed by, weakening him both physically and his rational judgment.

He had a lot of thinking to do on the ride home.

————

Taglist: @blood-on-blood @reincarnated70sbaby

#that's the way #jimmy page #the yardbirds #led zeppelin #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #led zeppelin fanfic #classic rock fanfic

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yournameyn · 3 years ago

Text

Feeling Deeply Chapter 5

Genre: Arranged Marriage Fic. Fluff turning into angst?

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

Summary: The story of two deeply feeling nerds who find themselves in an arranged marriage. (Details here). Our OC is called Brishti. It’s a Bengali name meaning rain. Namjoon calls her Rim (short for her pet name, RimJhim which means the pitter-patter of rain). She calls him Joon.

Warnings: NOT THE NAMJOON OF OUR DREAMS. Argument. Fight over tiny discrepancies that turn out to be a huge problem. Domestic violence. Not a happy chapter.

A/N: Have you ever felt this, reader? When you watch something and realise exactly what you need to realise in that moment? I’ve had that so many times - seeing my feelings mirrored in a show. That’s something that I’ve tried to have Brishti feel here. Also, this is how I see the natural progression of this Namjoon, the one who obliged to duty rather than his dreams. It took me a long time to write this but I love what’s come out. Let me know what you think!

Current Chapter: London, late 1963. Love fully blooms between Namjoon and Brishti. And yet, something’s not right. A visit to the ballet and a conversation brings forth realisations. The inklings that Brishti was trying to avoid transform into writing on the wall.

Previously in Feeling Deeply: Preface Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5

The magic about new love isn’t really in romance or even in true intimacy. It’s in how violent new love is… and just how much time it takes us to feel it’s impact.

In the new love between Namjoon and Brishti, everything had been roses and honey, overflowing, swaying in a gentle breeze. They spent every second possible in each other’s arms. They had to tear themselves away from each other when they had to leave home. And even then, it hurt as though they were part of the same cloth.

Brishti had thought about how they had become woven, their souls an ornate tapestry. Namjoon had told her then about a Japanese tradition of weaving that was a sort of meditation and a kind of worship to a god called ‘Musubi’. The disciples say it is like being part of the cosmic tapestry. Being tied to each other.

“Just like we are… I felt a pull toward you and I followed it. I was scared… so full of doubts about who you were and how this was all going to go… I had promised myself that I would fulfil my duty… whatever happened ” Namjoon had said, petting Brishti’s hand gently, “And I… I still can’t believe it… It… you make me feel like I can… trust myself.” Brishti had looked at her genius then and wondered what a strange world it must be that made a man like Namjoon doubt himself, “Always, always trust yourself, Namjoon-ah.” and settled into the crook of his neck.

It was indeed a strange world that caused Namjoon to build an armour around himself. Because ‘London’ and ‘Lonely’ sounded just the same to him. His years alone in this strange place had been unkind, unrelenting. Brishti had been the only softness he had felt in a long long time. Armours built over years can break in an instant, though. For him, it was the moment when he and his wife had crossed the threshold to becoming lovers. High on the magic of new love, he had not realised it.

Sitting across from each other after that fateful evening, Namjoon and Brishti were both wide awake in the early hours of the next morning. Brishti buttoned up the shirt they never fully took off. Namjoon had tickled her with his toes. They propped their feet against the other’s to see just how vast the difference was (he melted seeing how small her feet were and hadn’t stopped playing with them since). Caressing each toe, he remembered something he wanted to ask -

“How did you know what Saranghae is?”

“Mm…” she stretched her arms, “I know what it means…” Brishti said.

“I know you know… from the way you… after I said it… You asked Yoongi about it?” Namjoon cautiously asked about the only other Korean Brishti knew. To his surprise, she nodded no, still denying him any information. Namjoon had to tickle her foot for the answer.

“Okay! Okay! Wait! Pleeeease!” Namjoon stopped and Brishti bent down to the bureau next to her bed and pulled out a textbook - LEARN HANGUL THROUGH ENGLISH. Namjoon looked more shocked than she had expected. “I asked Yoongi about the book-”

“You don’t need to Rim… I’m not learning Bangla, am I?” Namjoon said. He was touched but he didn’t want his love to do anything he couldn’t reciprocate.

“I would have asked you to learn it… if I wrote poetry in my mothertongue...” Brishti said. Namjoon was shocked. She went on, “You really think I didn’t know?”

Namjoon blushed and smiled and flopped over in Brishti’s lap. She brushed his hair as she explained, “You light up at the mention of lyrics and poetry, you keep a notebook by your side at all times, you’re moved by the things that people usually don’t pay attention to… I know you’re a poet, Joonie.”

Namjoon looked up at her and said, “No one has ever called me that…”

Brishti leaned down and kissed her gorgeous husband. “You are... From what I know, I bet all my books that you are a great one... And… I… I would love nothing more than to be part of your world of words, Joonie… It must be strange… to be understood but in a foreign language. If you would let me, I want to understand you in your language… Do you think that’s something maybe--”

He got up and all but jumped on Brishti, pinning her down to the bed with the cutest puppy-yell she had ever heard. “Yes! Of course, yes!”

They both understood that this was a proposal. The truest kind - a gentle request to explore Namjoon’s universe. They would later joke about how she proposed to him after a month of being married. Namjoon was completely delighted by this person with him, his person… one who really saw him.

He pulled her to him saying, “You’re the best part of my world, Rim...” and kissed her.

Each moment of love flowed through the next. When they had to be separated, they couldn’t wait for the next one, their moment again. On weekends they would visit museums and find their favourite paintings and sculpture or their favourite prehistoric relic and animal. Brishti hated the fact that Namjoon had to work overtime to compensate for these weekends and she often voiced how unfair it was.

In response Namjoon would just give her a peck and say, “As long as I have you, I’m happy.” This pricked her but she was too taken by the man before her to pay heed to it.

Namjoon was just about able to keep a straight face at work but everyone around Brishti was acutely aware of how much she loved Namjoon.

At one point, her colleague and best friend, Min Yoongi had yelled at her, “Yhaaaaa! Stop blushing?! It’s just a clock… what could be romantic about a clock?!” Sayuri-san, and she were hanging around Yoongi’s table when Brishti looked at his new flip clock and started blushing.

Brishti laughed along with everyone else but explained, “It’s involuntary… that’s what happens when you’re married to a poet.”

Sayuri-san corrected, “I know too many wives of poets to know that’s not necessarily true… It is true though, when you’re in love with a poet… Go on… tell us how exactly poet Namjoon makes you blush about a clock...”

Brishti blushed even more at that. Yoongi rubbed his arms and demanded, “Tell us because there’s some really weird things coming to my mind… like you guys have an exact time when...”

Brishti stopped his imagination, “No no no… it’s nothing like that… he loves digital clocks... because he loves to watch the time turn to 00:00… zero o’clock he calls it… and on days he feels sad, it’s like zero o’clock is always there to comfort him… like it’s a point when the whole world holds its breath and he can feel happy again… but these days… with me… he said he wants the clock to keep going after 23:59… he wishes time would stretch on… beyond 24:01…”

Yoongi sighed and sat back down, “You’re making me fall in love with Namjoon… ahhh that is beautiful. He should be published...”

“Imagine him saying this directly to you and you might know how I feel… I can’t stop talking about him...”

“Oh, we know. But honestly none of us care… your poet-librarian romance is getting us through our single-ness.” Yoongi reassured her.

The three of them continued to talk about the ways in which Brishti could repay Namjoon’s wordsmithing in graphic ways.

It was that evening, wasn’t it, when Namjoon had enveloped her back in the warmest hug as soon as he’d entered their flat. Brishti was in the kitchen when she heard him enter but hadn’t expected this. He kissed her neck while telling her the good news, “We got our first Korean client today… because of me… Mmmm… Why do you always smell so amazing?”

Brishti turned around and hugged him again, “That’s amazing! Namjoon-ssi! I’m so proud of you!”

“He’s from a wealthy family… so he can actually afford our firm… its not exactly the work I wanted to do--”

“It is a step toward that idea, right? It’s still good work, fighting for justice?” Brishti asked, stopping him from undermining his own work.

Namjoon nodded, “Yeah… He’s a dancer… Park Jimin. All the posh types know him as one of the best dancers in the Royal Ballet. They call him Jim… as if it’s too difficult to say Jimin?” Namjoon shook his head in disapproval. He began helping Brishti with the chopping and continued, “He was born in the UK and trained since he was 5... He got into the Royal Ballet but he’s been passed up to be a principal over and over even though everyone who has seen him dance apparently knows that he’s far far better… So recently he spoke to the director there... and of course the director made a racist slur and asked not to bother him with this again. He can’t even quit and work at another company because of the contract they have him on. There’s a non compete clause… meaning he won’t be able to dance with any other company. That’s all he wants… to be able to get out of that contract… I’m hoping to convince him to press charges on racial discrimination too. We’re not in the 20s anymore.”

When Brishti didn’t respond, Namjoon looked up at her. “That’s horrible… I’m so so glad you’re taking up the case. But please tell me what you ate when you were alone?” He looked down at the carrot he’d been failing to cut.

Namjoon scrunched his nose and admitted, “Canned food mostly.”

Brishti said, “I’m really really glad you’re getting to do work that you are passionate about, Joonie, you deserve it. Now, you should know how to cut a carrot.”

Namjoon pressed up against Brishti’s back. She reached back up to the nape of his neck and made him moan into her. Then… then Namjoon made her forget how to cut carrots.

He had these ways… Namjoon, with his touch, his voice, his languages both spoken and soundless. He was lighting new paths into her self. She loved learning him. Paths she didn’t know existed, that she’d been longing for.

The scars of the loneliness, emptiness that Namjoon had experienced had turned his longings into a kind of starvation. He needed to be nourished and also devoured. Brishti was just the creature to do it. He could feel her warm fingers trace rows of pleasure onto his skin. He felt them bear down and singe when the two of them had to move away from each other. He felt those ropes tug at him as the end of his workday neared. Namjoon closed his eyes each night at her touch, the feeling and fragrance of her body. He felt blooms of intimacy spring up like seedlings out of the soil of his skin. And deeper. In the earth of his soul. So he did the only thing he could. Reciprocate. Namjoon sowed his love, his desire, his need onto her, into her every night.

There were times, though, when she would feel his absence in the middle of the night and see him working in the dim light of a lamp. She knew he had to work hard to do what he wanted but she also saw he had to continually prove himself to people who weren’t even paying attention. The reason they weren’t paying attention was painfully clear to Brishti but she was yet to experience it’s full stab.

Namjoon wanted to shield her from it. He was counting on an armour that didn’t exist anymore to protect himself and his wife… the reason he liked his life again. Whenever she came out and switched on a brighter light, reprimanding him for straining his gorgeous eyes, he saw that it did prick her - this world and the unfairness he had to endure. She would say something small, an almost-complaint that alerted him… against her for some strange reason. She would say something that would be easy to ignore and yet would prick him, like - “I don’t know why they haven’t promoted you yet.” or “Why haven’t they taken up Jimin’s case yet? You’ve worked so hard on it.” Everytime she did that, he would have to pacify himself.

‘I’ve told her so much about the Jimin case… she’s just really invested’ Namjoon thought to himself. Just so he would avoid thinking, ‘I shouldn’t have told her.’

He would have to calm himself, give her a peck and try to convince her to stop worrying. “As long as I have you, I’m happy.” Namjoon would always say.

Then, Brishti smiled as she always did. While trying to understand why that sentence bothered her so much. After almost five months of exploring this wonderful man, some part of him still felt unfamiliar… like it didn’t fit in with the rest. Still, these things take time, she had heard from so many women over the years. Besides, she was blessed with a man far far above the norms. So, how could she prod? These are things Brishti had told herself - until the night she couldn’t stay silent.

The couple was coming up on their fifth month together and Park Jimin had gifted Namjoon a ticket to the final show of the season as a token of gratitude, for having heard his story.

Brishti was nervous about going to this kind of a gathering and had told her husband to meet her there.

She had enlisted the help of Sayuri-san to look appropriate for the event. Her slightly longer hair was clipped and her eyes were kohled. She wore a burgundy knee length fringe-ended dress that she had received from her gracious host, stylist and make-up artist - an inheritance of her brilliant life tucked into the black pearl beading and deco design. It was a big departure from the usual tie-die or band tees and jeans with her baggy coat. She had carried the coat but felt this strange sort of compulsion to stand in the cold air in the noodle strap dress, for him to see her.

She felt butterflies in her stomach and kept fiddling with the coat she had draped over her arm. It was electric when she saw him.

Namjoon looked gorgeous in a tux. All of Brishti’s nerves were soothed just by looking at him. He had brushed his hair back. Tall and dashing - better than any heathcliffe could ever be. And with his reading glasses, he looked like the lead of a romance novella that would make all the women swoon. Indeed she was swooning. Brishti was suddenly warm in the chilly, windy night. And when Namjoon saw her, blood rushed to her cheeks. Everything inside her was running helter skelter in a panic. Brishti felt everything drop in the few moments it took for Namjoon to reach the top of the stairs. Dolled up like this, outside of her element, she felt like an imposter. Some angel needed to be standing in her place. For the first time, feigning beauty, Brishti felt like she wasn’t worthy of her husband.

She was finally able to keep her feelings aside when he reached her.

Namjoon kissed her palm like a gentleman and whispered in her ear, “Let’s go home… I need a private kind of dance…” Brishti blushed. Namjoon put his arm around her and felt the chill that had settled on her skin. “Aren’t you cold? Why didn’t you wear the coat?” Namjoon asked. Brishti just shook her head no and the two of them walked in.

Brishti assumed that the ballet would be a welcome distraction from the storm that brewed within her. She had read up about the show, the piece they were going to perform -

Tchaikovsky’s venerated Swan Lake. The story of a young girl who falls in love with a prince who promises to save her but fails. Ofcourse there were finer nuances to the story but this was the basic plot. As the lights dimmed, Brishti felt pulled in by the music, the eerie beauty of it’s melody played in perfectly with the questions that were swirling around in Brishti’s mind -

Why do I feel wrong?

Is this what Yoongi was talking about? Anxiety…?

Why does Namjoon look so... different?

Why is he so quiet, so… distant…It’s like he’s keeping himself away from me despite being right next to me, arm in arm, like the true Namjoon is somewhere in a glass case? Deep deep beneath whatever this creature is who is next to me?

I’m thinking too much. No. What is this? Why am I feeling this way?

It’s the music… no its not just the music… something is fucking wrong because all I feel like doing is breaking that glass case that’s locked away My Namjoon and presented this fucking imposter. What the hell is going on?!

Brishti barely managed to keep it together. She kept her eyes on stage…

It was like seeing a moving painting being created by invisible hands and the music was the sound of the brushstrokes, amplified. Park Jimin was playing Rothbart, the owl-like magician who curses Odette into a swan until she finds someone who would promise to love her forever. The questions in her mind and the power of the spectacle before her forced her tears to keep flowing.

Namjoon saw Brishti cry and held on to her. But the more he tried to comfort her, the more uneasy she became, the more she coudln’t contain the tears in her eyes.

The curtain fell at the end of Act three when the prince realises he has been tricked. Brishti, somehow, mirrored his grief. The prince was cheated by Rothbart into believing that his daughter, Odile, was Odette. Rothbart relished his plan so despicably it made Brishti’s stomach turn. The prince had already declared to the ballroom full of people his vow to love and marry the maiden by his side - Odile, not Odette. Park Jimin played Rothbart so skillfully, so beautifully that despite being the villain, despite being covered from head to toe, he was the star. Rothbart giggled delightfully as he revealed to the prince that the girl in his arms wasn’t Odette at all. That Odette was waiting for her prince by the lake. The curtain fell as the prince felt the stab of betrayal and rushed to Odette.

Brishti rushed to where she did not know. She wanted to get away from Namjoon, from this feeling that she couldn’t understand, couldn’t explain. She was angry. She wanted to break something. Tears still flowing down her face, she found a corner that was hidden away in darkness. She went in. Brishti sat on the couch there, for what seemed like eternity, breathing heavily. Nothing made sense. It felt like her insides were twisting into each other. Suddenly, though, a door creaked open and out came an angel. A man, glowing, having just freshened up. He saw her, saw her fear and instead of pulling back in shock, approached with a strange kindness. He held her wrist and stayed silent for a moment.

His beauty was also a kindness to her. In that moment, Brishti could breathe a little bit better. He sat down by her knees, on the floor and when he spoke, his voice flowed like a tonic, “First time at the ballet? It’s overwhelming… I know. You’re okay. You are safe. Rothbart is not here. Talk to me… what are you feeling?”

The tears kept flowing. This man was different, she knew he understood what she was feeling like. She felt safe, but not as if she was with a saviour, rather as though she was with another victim.

“What are you feeling…” Park Jimin repeated. The pieces were falling into place in her head. This is Park Jimin, the man who danced as Rothbart. The man who should have danced the Prince. Who should have played Odette and Odile.

“I feel… rage.” Brishti trembled as she spoke. She could breathe again.

“Yes… Rothbart is… evil… I’m sorry-”

Brishti nodded her head no. “At the prince.”

Jimin was surprised. “Let it out. You can scream in here and no one would know.”

Brishti didn’t need another invitation, but her rage wasn’t a scream, it was a whisper - “I want to hit the prince. How could he not now? He couldn’t see that that girl was not Odette? Is he blind? The way she moved, the way she danced… which only means… it means that the prince knew… somewhere he felt doubt but he… He couldn’t fucking trust himself enough?! I don’t know why this is breaking my heart… Why can’t people trust in themselves?! It’s a pathetic fucking excuse and I can’t buy it… I just can’t. Why did the prince...” Her hands covered her face as she wiped her tears. She composed herself.

Jimin pulled out a kerchief. “May I?” Brishti nodded and he dabbed her face with care.

“The prince trusted his sight more than his soul. And now, Odette will die because of it. As always, the woman pays the price.”

“He dies too, you know.”

“What a waste…”

Jimin smiled, “Thank you… for watching the show, for feeling it so much.”

Brishti managed a weak smile, “Thank you.” Jimin stepped away and sat next to her, at a respectable distance. “I’m being lied to.”

Jimin nodded, “I know what that’s like. I feel that rage against the prince too. And still, we must be kind to our liars.”

Brishti clenched her teeth, “Why? Where’s the fairness in that?”

Jimin moves away, in a dejected kind of daze and pours himself a drink, “That’s the biggest lie, fairness. Cruel joke.”

Brishti walked toward the door. “I should go… Thank you.”

Jimin raised his glass to her.

Brishti wore her coat and walked toward the exit. She found Namjoon in a panic and suddenly felt like she could reach him. He looked so relieved to see her. She couldn’t help but feel awash with love as he crashed into her in the warmest hug. It was as if he was the one who was lost.

“Are you okay? Why were you crying?” Namjoon asked her as he stroked her head and held her in the hug for as long as she needed.

“I need to ask you something.” Brishti whispered as she pulled away. They began walking down the stairs of the theatre.

“Änything.” Namjoon replied.

“Your firm… they refused the Jimin case, right?”

Namjoon froze. His jaw locked up. “Let’s go home.”

The rest of the way, neither of them spoke a word. They entered their home in a cold silence. They washed the night off themselves and entered their bedroom, which was completely devoid of the heat and desire that usually filled it right up to the ceiling. What used to feel like an ocean, now felt like a vacuum.

When Namjoon walked in, Brishti reminded him, as kindly as she could,“I said I need to ask you something. You said, ‘anything’.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to talk about it.” Namjoon was cold again. Unfeeling. Unreachable.

Brishti tried her best to be calm… “When would you want to talk about it?”

Namjoon breathed in - “Why? Am I answerable to you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, we disagree. I don’t think I am answerable to you. What would you have done if I wouldn’t have told you about it in the first place?”

“I would still be feeling what I’m feeling… I would be even more furious though.”

“Fu- why would you be furious? I have to work there, I lost the account. I’m feeling hurt and disappointed in myself and instead of helping me, you’re angry?! What the hell could you be angry at?!”

“I’m being lied to. I’m being tricked.”

“What?!” the contempt on Namjoon’s face made her head throb. He was angry now.

“There are two Namjoons here. I’m being told there’s only one and--”

“That is some philosophical trash that you learned from one of your books. Real life doesn’t work that way. But how would you know?! You don’t have a real job. You have a hobby. A hobby of stacking books in order. You’re just plain lucky that someone is paying you for your hobby. That’s not a job. You of all people cannot tell me about the things I have to do to keep my job. I have tried my best to be as honest as I can be--”

“As honest as you can --”

“Listen to me!” Namjoon thundered. His loud voice might as well have been a punch. It rang through her body and rattled her bones. She had tears in her eyes but clenched them down as Namjoon continued yelling, “Enough… enough with the fucking tears. What the fuck are you so sad about?! I don’t need you to pity me. I don’t need anyone to feel sad for me. I have tried to be a good man - do you even know how much other men don’t even mention to their wives?! I told you everything. EVERYTHING. And now I’m being punished for it. Time and time again I tried to console you… even though I was the one hurting… I tried to be there for you and tell you… as long as I have --”

Brishti couldn’t take it anymore “Don’t. Say that.” She didn’t yell. Her voice was just above a whisper and yet it sent a chill down Namjoon’s spine. She wiped her tears. “I didn’t ask to be consoled. I was just… curious. If a few questions from me hurt so much maybe you should ask yourself why. I’m not lucky that someone decided to pay me for my hobby. It’s nice to know what you really think of my job. But whatever you think, I created my job. I created my life. I fought to come to london. I fought for the right to earn--”

“Oh please... spare me the feminist lecture...” scoffed Namjoon.

“Sure. Take up Jimin’s case.”

Namjoon felt the burn of white hot rage. He wanted to strangle her. He was so used to touching her… and she was his… in this bedroom, he had made her his. He wasn’t thinking. Namjoon strode toward her and held one massive palm over her mouth and the other on her neck and pinned her to the wall. “YOU WOULDN’T HAVE KNOWN ABOUT THAT IF I DIDN’T TELL YOU.”

It took him a few moments to realise what he was doing. Brishti was shocked and tried to scream but no voice came out. She was trying to get him out of his daze when he finally saw her, saw his Rim, horrified… by him. Namjoon pulled his hands back instantly. He saw a red bruise bloom where his hands were - on her face and on her neck.

“This is how you make your conscience shut up?” Brishti’s voice was hoarse. “You think this has nothing to do with your conscience? With the best part of you? The part that you made me fall in love with? Are you really telling me you don’t know that this is why you can’t write the way you used to… You’re killing my Joon and asking me to stay silent. I can’t.”

The searing anger still hadn’t died and it burst out of him, “Why are we fighting like this… over Jimin… why don’t you take up his case if you fucking love him so much?”

“What do you think I’m doing right now?”

“You… Why are you fighting for him against me?!” It was here that Namjoon realised his armour was gone. The idea of who he is... suddenly vanished. And the one thing that had made him feel safe, like his true self, was slipping away. “You’re saying… just tell me… you’re saying what I think you’re saying.”

Brishti did him the only kindness she had left in her, she explained, “Jimin wants to leave but can’t. He stays because he needs to dance. He stays because he cannot get out of his contract. You say you want to help people like Jimin, you roll your eyes at white people who can’t pronounce our names, you feel guilty for asians who have much less than we do… but then you also don’t raise an issue when your boss holds meetings in clubs where people of other races and dogs and women are not allowed. You work overtime for the privilege of weekends… You say you are trying but… as far as I know… you don’t have a non-compete clause in your contract, Namjoon.”

That hit him like an iceberg. Namjoon’s legs gave way and he just sat on the bed.

He watched as Brishti put on her coat and left, covering her bruises with a scarf.

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Chapter 6 - to be posted.

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