#listen a lot of beloveds tonight ok

[speremint]

Requests from the Artists For Palestine stream! Thanks so much again @stil-lindigo for organizing this event, it was a lot of fun!

[doublekanble]

hunting

Alastor/reader (gnc)

romantic-platonic (a bit more romantic if you squint)

word count: 4.1k

mention of roaches, "thats my boy" was used once but it's not a real gender indication. fic can be sums up to 1. bugs 2. throwing a body in a lake.

You’re an odd admirer of bugs, always have been. Even when quite a number of them creeps you out to no end with their lanky legs and weird autonomy, you still admires them with all your heart. The spiders in the corner of your ceiling always get let out when it overstep. The centipede dropped by the corner and thrown out the back door. Killing them is almost always the last and final option for you. And yet, out of the bunch, there’s always one thing you can never bring yourself to ever see in any remotely positive light.

Roaches. Those disgusting creepy little things.

Your friends and family finds it absolutely hilarious (and useful) how you react at the mere mention of a roach being spotted, much to your dismay. Having time and time again and again encountering the thing in circumstances less than ideal—in your own kitchen for example, you have a habit of throwing yourself at the chance to immediately get it out of your sight, hopefully dead and crushed once it does; even if it’s at the cost of your beloved ivory handkerchief. But now, as you sat completely still on the sofa with dirty hand and unfocused eyes, you spotted something from the peripherals of your vision.

There’s a roach on the floor.

It’s a long-standing problem, considering how the lodge itself is placed neatly near the edge of a bayou, one that won’t be touch tonight, he remarked before you two step foot into the place. Otherwise, there’s only so much one man can do to keep his place clean; he reassures you that it’ll be gone soon, as soon as you’re done with this. Waving his hand and smiling, he head off to the kitchen to look for something. Your eyes followed him out of the room, before turning to the roach. It’s antennae shifting up and down, examining and searching for food as it crawl up and down the area. At least it seems like there’s no interest in you.

Once he returns, Alastor would teasingly chide you for not helping him as he turn his back on you, vest and what else now on the other end of the sofa, beginning his work. It’s ok, you’re new to this, you’ll get used to it soon; he said kindly. You don’t want to dwell on the thought of it.

From behind, you listen to his humming, a new tune he played some days ago on his broadcast. It would’ve been so endearing, but you can’t feel your legs and your thoughts are drifting too far away for you to really get a hold of. The only thing in your eyes now is the roach that’s crawling by the severed left thigh. Always a bad habit of yours that he insisted was sincerely charming to him, how easily rile up you are by the small and tiny woes of life. The little play dates and meet-ups you dreaded going despite promising a friend to, an awkward conversation. They’re all things that anyone can withstand with ease, but you do so while stumbling on your feet like a fawn. Utterly charming and adorable, he’d insisted.

(because then he can always be there for you, he once said. if you ever find yourself in a tough spot, your dear old Alastor will always take you by the hand and lead you from your troubles)

You don’t tend to think a lot about what he love to say around you, or even at all. In all honesty, maybe you could’ve seen the sign a bit earlier; in the way his smile is all teeth and wide, but never reaching his eyes, to anyone except you. In the manner in which he always take a hold of your hand and lead you through the empty street of New Orleans, diving into speakeasy after speakeasy in the middle of an on-going depression out of his own pockets and always seated you where you can always see him even if he’s on the other side of the place, always seated you somewhere he can keep an eye on you. Maybe in the way he sometimes would hold you in his arms for a bit too long for normal friends and your arm would accidentally brush by something a bit off and out of shape, at the side of his right torso and hidden behind 3 layer of clothing.

You could’ve acknowledged the sign way earlier, but you’ve never had a friend like Alastor. And it was so fun watching him live his life while letting you stand by his side, you could even forget about the serial killer roaming the street at night, the one he would have news about every noon and would exclusively deliver them just to you in the hope of keeping you safe.

Of course, with the benefit of hindsight, he might as well be doing it just to keep you by his side for longer, knowing how your interest wane at a single mistake. But for your dear old friend, Alastor? Who’s charm and laughter is always uniquely his, who always care so much and always try to keep you safe, who walked you back to your house at the early morning hours and who always place a gentle kiss on the hand he held securely and tightly in his.

Painfully and hopelessly, all you can ever do is to trust him. Until one day you can’t. And it took everything in you to walk away that time.

(you told him once, before all of this nonsense that for him, you will go to the end of the world. and he smiles. you would’ve never known that, ever since then, ‘end of the world’ means end of your world.)

A sudden movement from his end have you jump in your seat. He only turns around and gives you a sheepish grin, with his eyes crinkled in a way that he only preserved for you and his mother.

“Apologies for startling you, dear. It was getting on my nerves.”

You look to where the cleaver was just a second ago. On the floor, right by his knee on the tarp covered floor—now with a tear, red bleeding below and seeping into the wooden board, staining it—sat a hand chopped squarely in two, and a roach, stick-like limbs still twitching. Subconsciously, you inched yourself to the end of the sofa, not minding the thought of your hair touching his vest as much.

He smiles again, although this time, it’s as if he’s looking at a dumb pet backing into its cage. If you bring it up, he’ll probably laugh. So, you look ahead instead and try to focus on the deer head hanging atop the fireplace, it’s beady eyes the same color as the thing Alastor’s dissecting in the middle of the lodge’s sitting room.

“Y’know,” he started with a small laugh, voice light and airy, in that same way, he talked about poetry and music to you, “I wasn’t sure whether you would tell anyone.” It was pleasant then, but now it’s like you’re back at the local meat shop with its owner still alive, still intact. The disgusting metallic stench combine with the damp air and his brutish voice, so much harder to listen to compared to Alastor’s, almost made it seems like a funeral of your own. You’ve never felt safe in that meat shop, but now you’re somewhat torn on the thought.

“You looked so horrified; I was sure that would’ve been the last I ever see you. It would’ve broken my heart, and I wouldn’t have blame you for it, too.” He’s the most vindictive person anyone will ever know. “You’re such a charming little thing after all! Always with that benign heart of yours… And if you were to stop coming around, my mother’s heart would simply break into two!”

He pauses, as if reminiscent, you wish he stay like that for a bit longer, but the sounds of bones breaking and snapping under cleaver returns as he diligently work away. There’s a saw somewhere in the lodge, you’ve seen it once before- while searching through his tools for a screwdriver. A decently sized one, as long as your arms with blade just as jagged as it was new, but Alastor would never keep anything that’s not useful. Somehow, you’re sure he’s using the cleaver to prolonged this. The fact might be horrible on its own. But then again, you’re not too keen on knowing the noise a saw made going through actual bones. His good intentions carry itself through for once.

“She can take care of herself, yes, I know. God knows nothing on this round earth can knock her off her feet. But having you around to talk with-“ his mother is such a kind woman. A gentle and warm person, you can see how some of his doting nature came directly from her. But by God, how did she ever give birth to such a devil? “you know how she always praises you when you’re around? Why you should’ve seen how she is when you’re not! I’m beginning to think I’m not her favorite child anymore!”

(his mother is lovely, but his voice’s is getting so, so very annoying. Like a bug. Like a-)

“I would never dream of hurting you, too.”

It tears you apart, how he said it with such conviction. As if he would never take the chance once you give it to him. And there’s no mistaking the genuine happiness in his tone as he looked at you for the final time, sending you a beaming smile when your eyes accidentally met.

“I’m so happy you called me, mon Chéri.”

He sounds so, so sincere. Word as sweet as the praises he sings about his mother, as kind as his eyes. It doesn’t alleviate the distinct gnawing of something sharp and horribly choking lodging firmly in your throat. You can’t find it in your heart to reply to such a loving gesture right now, and you hope you will never again. And you know he doesn’t need you to, either. The fact you’re here is enough confirmation for himself.

So yet again, with ease, he gleefully chatted away at you while walking back and forth to prepared for something, wanting to give you a book from an author you loved but having trouble finding their work, he hoped you won’t mind waiting for a bit longer. All while you’re having trouble concentrating, that screeching, inconsolable cries—like a screeching pig—replaying over and over in your mind. You were never a believer, but still, you pray he didn’t blame you for his death on the way down to hell. You didn’t even know a person can looked so utterly unlike one, no wonder the roaches loves the death.

(you know that it’s beyond useless to even pray, you might as well having dragged him to the underworld by hand yourself. but with how the wetness on your hand already solidify into a disgusting layer of crust and the image of a dead man hanging behind your eyelid, it’s all you can do to pray this night away)

Briefly, the sight of the vermin flashes through your weathered mind, and you feel sick for thinking about how easy it would’ve been to have let the thing crawled into the man’s ears.

----

“Ugh-!”

“Do you need a hand over there dearie?”

You didn’t bother to respond to his coy inquiry, choosing to adjust your grip awkwardly around the sack in your arms. It was somewhat an inner debate on whether you should’ve thrown it over the shoulder or just carry like normal despite its shape. But the thought of getting any speck of blood on your back somehow grossed you out more. That and the possibility of the rocks he puts in there leaving a bruise if you throw it too harshly.

“Oh, what am I saying. You got more than enough to help yourself! And a few extra limbs too!”

“I wouldn’t have needed anything if you didn’t throw in those damn- What do you even need them for?!”

“Come now, you kiss my mother with that tongue!”

He laughs, hunting riffles over his shoulder as he does. But he still takes the time to walk back a bit and wait just in case you fell over. After assuring himself that you won’t going to trip, he slapped your back all good-nature like—nearly sending you on your knees—with an enthusiastic “That’s my boy!” and strutted ahead again, steps now noticeably slower than before. You try not to think about why he’s doing all of it.

Walking through this specific forest, even with a dead body in your hand, brings back memories. One you would’ve love to keep safe from him despite everything, but nothing was ever up to you.

Alastor brought you here from time to time on his hunting trip to try and get you used to his hobby and the idea of tracking prey. Under the excuses of you being his favorite little person to bring anywhere. Initially, you were extremely reluctant to even come out of the city, but he won you over anyway, all but begged you to and dramatically claiming he’ll die soon if you don’t.

After that, it’s him taking the time out of his busy life to set up little test and lessons for you that he—very proudly and enthusiastically—would declared much better than what he have to go through as a kid. Even going so far as letting you, a beginner, to take a hold of his prized Remington that he otherwise never uses except for “big games” he boasted about in broad details, but never enough for an accurate guess. You would even think he’d caught a mystical beast by how little details there was.

(“Ah, but this one, this is a sly one~. It slipped from my hand multiple times that night, running to and fro without a care in the world. I nearly lost my life to it!”

Wriggling his fingers while presenting a story about how he chased down a prey through the woods that kept running despite the shots and wounds he gave it. you laugh without a thought about what the game was to be that resilient, long giving up on guessing.

“What? Did the thing knock you off your feet and ran off? Well deserved, honestly!”

He smiles.

“It wished it did darling~.”)

Alastor loves to laugh at how you failed every single test he put you up to, your hands was always just a bit too shaky and the noise just a bit too loud for you to ever get used to, especially with how spaced out the lessons are, giving you time to completely forget what it feels like to hold something that can kill you both in a heartbeat. By your fourth session, his jokes start to turn a bit personal. Never anything outright mean, if you don’t know him well enough. The type of thing that would’ve been normal to hear, but was said in a specific tone, with a specific look.

(“At this rate, if anything bother to come by, you’ll be deader than a doornail, love!”)

As if he’s disappointed in you; as if he was hoping you can pick this up faster for any other reason than to have a hunting buddy alongside him. You never understand that part. His social circle was—and always will be—big enough that you’re willing to bet your left leg on the fact at least two of them can handle a gun better than you can hold a pencil. But it has to be you, he all but insisted.

One day, you said something that have him stood frozen next to the five cans he placed in a neat row, with only one lying pathetically on the floor. You still can’t get a read on whatever the expression on his face was, having only caught it by a single tick of a second before he laughs a laugh from the bottom of his chest and deemed you unbefitting to ever hold onto a weapon.

(“If anything were to come by!” you’re all-but whining at this point, playing up your annoyance and trying to cover up the slight hurt at his tone. you can tell he’s getting irritated, and it only serves for you to be more annoying because goddammit you’re the one sitting on the wet grass with a hand nursing your poor, poor ears after hours of practice at his behest. the rifle sitting silently in your lap, in your hand, it’s utterly useless.

“You’re supposed to protect me! Throw yourself in front of the bullet for me! I would do the same for you, y’know!”)

Ever since, he would keep you out of it. Both from his prized rifle, the forest, and the lodge. You wished he keep it that way forever.

As he lead you through the unfamiliar forest and onto a trail you’re much more acquainted to, you feel cold sweat running down your back, making the burning heat inside of you all the more uncomfortable. You begged from the bottom of your heart for this one thing to at least remained intact. But the trees parted in a circle and the trail end. And in a single night, what’s left of the blissful and blind days you have of Alastor shatters and dissipate.

(it was nothing more than meaningless jest on your end, a norm for you both. something for him to call you weak over and you two can just laugh and put this off for some other day when your hands isn’t shaking and you can barely hear yourself over the howl of your heart. but when no retort came, you look up, searching for him.)

“There we are! Sorry for the long walk, but I want tonight to be an absolutely unforgettable night for years to come, mon Chéri! And what better way to make sure of it-“ you begged him to not turn around, to please don’t look at you in the eye, please stop breaking everything and leaving you to the dogs, “then to celebrate your first successful hunt here!” but you can’t say a word. And Alastor is the most selfish man you know.

“Utterly breathtaking of a sight tonight too. We should go here more on our outings, really. And- Dear?”

“Why…?”

You realized you’re already on your knees in the grass and dirt when he stalked back, towering over you and the remains of something you can’t mustered the will to remember the name of — stuffed enough rocks and what-else to keep it still below the water surface for however long it takes once people took noticed of yet another disappearance. Your hands unsteady as you try to crawl backwards inch by inch. There’s an electric current running through the back of your head and for a moment, you realized you’re shaking. It slipped from your mind the moment he sigh.

(You pretend not to noticed it, at that time)

“Through your nose, darling. I would love to carry you back home, but I think you wouldn't be too appreciative of that idea right now.”

Immediately exhaling, you’re rooted in your spot on the ground as he dropped down and leans into you, brushing hair from your face with a tenderness that makes you want to burst into tears.

“I was sure you would’ve come around to this by now, mon Chéri. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“I never wanted this.”

You must’ve looked like it too. Enough for him to try and console you, but with his facade off, he sounded so horribly callous. So incredibly heartless despite holding your shoulder and offering you his.

“And yet you told me his name.”

(but you did)

“But I never wanted you to-“

“You could’ve called out to me to stop too. You know I would’ve.”

You’ve always detested his idea of consolidation when it’s related to what he would, or have, done. Once it came down to it, it was always about convincing you.

“You’re so selfish…” and you’re so tired, so worn out and so, very spent. Two long week and multiple letters and phone calls to your home from day to night, with that man following your every step and standing outside your window at night. Facing terror with no end in sight and not a person to trust after begging for help time after time. Except from the worst person you’ve ever known. “You’re so, so selfish…”

“Call me anything you fancy, darling. But I’d be dammed if I let these worthless vermin think for a second more they can play around with you.”

His words are so incredibly selfish, but despite it all, you can’t help but letting yourself fall into him with all of your hagged self. Because in spite of it all, he's the only person who would hold you close and place his head on top of yours so tenderly. In those two miserable weeks, you've done everything someone in your position could ever do. Every number on the telephone was called before his. Every person asked. Friends and family all contacted and not a single person can or will do a single thing to help you. The irony of the situation follows even now.

And even despite everything. You can't help but to sigh as you grip on him just a tad bit tighter.

“The lake…”

He perks up a bit at that. Even when you can’t see his face, you know he’s arching an eyebrow.

“How many…”

“Oh? So that was what you’re so fussy about?” he let out a light laugh, as if caught off guard. It wasn’t everything, but Alastor pushes on, “Why, this would be the first one! I want this to be special, since the lake itself also have quite a special spot in my heart. Although your reception was a bit…less, than what I was hoping for. But oh well! Always next time!”

As he stand up with you in his arms, you want to put your foot down for once and said that there’s not a next time, there won’t ever be a next time. You’ll catch a train by morning with only a name to your pocket and the clothes on your back and leave for the other end of the world. You honestly would’ve, but the way he murdered that man comes right to mind. And even with everything he told you, you don’t think you can ever make it out of that train alive if you leave him.

“Now what do you say with finishing this up for the night and go back to rest, mon Chéri?”

Left with no option, you took one end of the sack and he took the other. While he all but dragging the thing by himself, you’re left to wondered how your life will be from now on. At the edge of the lake and at the end of your normalcy, he counted down to three and you both let go at the height of the swing and watch the sack dance in the air for a brief moment before plunging down.

The moment it hit the water, the muddy mirror reflecting moon’s light taking a hold of it and drags it down to the bottom of the lake with not a lick of hesitation. And as you stands over the water’s edge, staring down at your own reflection, you think about how this is like a wedding ceremony, with all the anxiety and none of the love. A mockery in the making. And as he takes your hand in his, appearing next to you in the depth with a gentle and disgustingly familiar grin, you finally realized that you are going to hell with him, the worst man in your life and the only person who will ever hold his hand out to you. And it was all you could do to not laugh at this misery.

(glee, absolute and utter glee. as if it was a confirmation to a question he never ask. since that day, he seek you out with much more fervor, and in turns, you always wait for him. you hoped that maybe one day, when his interest wane and attention grow spares, whatever you said that day that put you so deep into this and earn you so much of his favour would be enough for him to keep you alive)

[fell-the-aristocracy]

MOSHANG FIC TIME if u love/havent read any if these PLS DISCUSS THEM W ME im so insane about them plsplspls-

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27448672 - lighthearted fluff, SQH is suddenly Desirable™ to demons n MBJ is not about it, post-canon oneshot sqh pov

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36060397 - OMFG. Deaged!SQH and MBJ being SUCH a cutie about it. This author is one of my favs and this fic is so cute,,, babby airplane asking for cartoons in ancient china. Hes so cute and mbj is so good w kids here,,, bingqiu are v prominent in this fic and the system is a big part!!! Super cute v recommend!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56817634 - a saucy one, SQH tryna stop the horny books about him and his king from reaching mobei jun but....👀👀👀

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17577836 - cant quite remember the plot to this one except the description, just MBJ listening when SQH thinks out loud and its p silly n cute i think ^3^

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21949045 - TIME LOOP MOSHANG!!! airplanes hack author ways kick him jn the ass and hes so oblivious in this its gr8. V suggestive but not outright horny (until....👀) but so so cute also. Sqh u r so dumb my beloved <3

Oh wait tho lemme get u some LOGISTIC SQH!!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50941312 - this author. This. Author!!!!! 3 works and im obsessed (91 chapter scumplane friendship that is SO FUNNY Pls read phantom of the wrp...its got *gasp* healthy moshang!!) But this one!!!! Fake dating AU bc mobei jun panics and isnt as good at lying as SQH and theyre both so dumb but competent (its a running theme im in love w shush-) (also!!! Historical accuracy!!! The authors notes are SO GOOD) 38/38 chapters (also ttly forgot to do this with the rest of them....soz i think theyre all finished!!)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54434674 - AAAAAAA THIS ONE!! I binged it in like 2 days, its SO GOOD (cute mini sqh, good shizun sqh, adorable cumplane friendship eeee!!) He has the CUTEST assistant and hes so paperwork cored here.... The moshang is such a nice buildup and the concept is so so so well executed (if u like SQH getting powers bc hes the author and the system being PROMINENT....this is literally the best fic) 25/25 chapters, w extras that are still updating!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41344347 - this one heeheeeeee theyre both oozing competence n saving each other and i heart it lots. Bamf!SQH 4/4 chapters

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36245203 - ooohhhhh if u like demon/human culture differences..... Bodyswap fic where they understand each others human/demon instincts and are like ah. I think u might like me back actually. Oneshot!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36964696 - this one is so fkn funny. Peak lords more like 11 affronted siblings asking MBJ why he thinks hes good enough for their beloved shang shidi. Oneshot!

Ok this ask is. Gigantic. I have more (some amnesia plots if ur amenable 👀) bt im. Im gonna read more moshang im frothing at he mouth rn i hope u havent read all of these recs already and u find some u rlly like!!! Godspeed o7

ooohh fuck yeahhh. i haven't read v many just yet bc i've been busy ish today but i have Time tonight. love love love me some Logistics Man work i Will be reading.

[aroacesigma]

ok idk what en has so im just gonna give u the banger songs i love from each unit. some might not be in-game but also im bad at knowing where en is. also idk the en names of a lot of these songs so uh. you may need to look them up.

fine: hajimari no fantasia (BELOVED.), neo sanctuary, miracle dream traveler, tempest night (wataru goes off), feathers of ark (idk if en has that yet). also fucken. ghostic treat house. that is not in EN but its a banger.

Trickstar: BREAKTHROUGH, Kiseki, Finder Girl (i don't think u guys have that yet) and Daydream x Reality (also don't have that) the world.....

Ryuseitai: Tenka Muteki☆Meteorangers!, Ryusei Hanabi, Suisei HALATION, Nekketsu☆Ryusei Ninpouchou (i don't think u have that yet)

Alkaloid: Distorted Heart (do NOT play that expert beatmap unless you are confident. or do :3), Artistic Partisan, Believe 4 Leaves (u do not have that probably), and Vermilion (my beloved)

Eden: Dance in the Apocalypse (ignore the choreo its SUCH a banger), Awakening Myth, Majestic Magic, Exceed...... idk which ones you have of those Adam: Melting Rouge Soul is good... you don't have that tho. Eve: Sunlit Smile <3 Trap For You <3 Ruby Love <3

Valkyrie: MIWAKU GEKI. THE LOML. Last Lament. Memoire Antique. Tonight in this moonlit mansion. Eternal Weaving. also uruwashi no nightingale but that's not in-game at all you gotta go find that somewhere else.

2wink: Kangei☆2wink Zatsugidan, Heart Prism・Symmetry, LEMON SQUASH CHEERS!, Sugar Spice Hōteishiki !!! idk if u have the last two yet

Crazy:B: Crazy Roulette, Honeycomb Summer, Paranoia Street, Yubisaki no Ariadne, NOISY:BEEP (my beloved......), Helter-Spider (i don't think u have that yet)

Undead: Melody in the Dark, DESTRUCTION ROAD, Gate of the Abyss, Valentine Eve's Nightmare (if you don't like this song we can't be friends /j), FORBIDDEN RAIN (idk if u have that.... adonis went off tho)

Ra*bits: Nousagi March♪, Milky Starry Charm, Made in Tokimeki♪, Love it Love it, Pocket ni Uchuu (the other loml)

Akatsuki: Zan -Ketsui no Yaiba-, Kengeki no Mai, Usubeniiro no Yakusoku, Summer Bird is also very good <3

Knights: Fight for Judge, Silent Oath (if you like slower more chill songs. its very soft lyrically), Article of Faith (the in-game cut does not do it justice listen to the full version elsewhere), Grateful allegiance (listened to a tiny bit of that and almost started crying. oops), Promise Swords, Little Romance (RITCHAN THE WORLD), Mystic Fragrance (NARUNEE THE WORLD), Coruscate Breeze (TSUKIPI THE WORLD), Starlight Parade, Or the Beautiful Golden Drop (IZUMIMI THE WORLD)

Switch: Galaxy Destiny (if you don't like that song either we can't be friends /j), Emerald Planet, Magic for your "Switch", Omoi no Kakera, Majestic Magic, Romancing Cruise (natsume the woooorld)

MaM: Festive!, Yukai Tsuukai That's Alright! (mam the only unit to have bagpipes in his songs), Blooming World

Double Face (rip): Stippling, =EYE=, No name yet

ok thats like everything. lets ignore that i sent you basically 95% of the knights discography. we don't talk abt voice of sword that song doesn't exist

THANK YOU SO MUCH (melody in the dark is the one i am currently obsessed with it is such a banger)

and thats what made me remember . voice of sword is the one i cleared expert on . it was an ordeal but it was the easiest 😭

[flowersandbirdsflyingfree]

I’ve come to ask a question to our beloved himbo, Tank (could be both ultimis and primis), what was the moment yall knew you were in love with Maddie?

Also hi Maddie!! Hope you’re have a wonderful day and I want you to know you’re amazing and a great friend 🥺🥺💖💖💖

(HI HAZARD!!!! You are such an amazing and special friend of mine! I had a nice walk today and I’m planning to work on a Christmas wreath for myself tonight. I hope you have a wonderful day too💖💖💖☺️)

Well, you mentioned both. But I think the Dempsey I bond with the most should answer first.

Who, me?

Yes, you! You know it too grinning like that.

*heartily laughs* Okay! We’ve been together since the beginning. Funny coincidence too being this is our anniversary month. The very moment was definitely when she and I were laughing off all the bullshit we dealt with earlier. I got in a bad fight with Richtofen. Maddie waited until I cooled off to talk to me and we ended up doing really bad impressions of the other guys with us. And then, well, she then shyly handed me this little letter she wrote up from one of the typewriters nearby. It was the most beautiful thing I ever read. Hell, it nearly brought a tear to my eye. It was in that moment I realized this was my ride or die for life.

You really thought so soon?

Life’s short, Dempsey. It was one of those now or never moments. I couldn’t bear to let the love of my life walk right by me.

*sighs lightheartedly* You’ve got a good point there, Tank. For me it would take a bit more time to build up realization that it was more than just a crush. You see, in our timeline, back where everything went to shit, there was no running off. But on our little expedition, I learned more about her at a steady pace. Maddie’s pretty. She’s also a strong woman who isn’t afraid to get dirty with serious business. That really means a lot to me. She’s one of a kind. That “aha” moment for me was her just talking during one of our steak-out nights. I don’t know how it happened but our once light conversation got deep. Her profound point of views about taking life by the horns and her humble compassion just… you know, meant everything to me.

Are you blushing too, Tank?

Y-Yeah! *nervous laughter* Congrats on being the only woman to break down my macho walls. What took you so long to open up to me anyways?

What do you mean? As an f/o?

Well, yeah!

I always did but you were so levelheaded and sweet and… I worried I wasn’t good enough

WHAT?!

YOU LISTEN HERE! If you can handle one Tank, you can have the whole thing, baby!

But I got extra nervous because how how flustered I feel around him. It was on overdrive! And I can barely figure out a neat way to understand Primis’ story as I am STILL years later having to restudy the whole conveluded thing

I’ll give you that on the whole time and space crap. I barely understand it myself. I just pulled myself by the bootstraps and worked through whatever I could to fix everything. Maybe this is a chance for you to open up a little more to me, ok? Seriously. I mean it. Let this be the beginning of you and I getting closer. I promise to be that stable rock you never had.

[aviel-the-trans-bucket]

Welcome back madlads today I’m doing something a bit different. Instead of emo nostalgia I’ll be listing to music that’s completely new to me, by each of the mcr members while the band was dead. Today I’ll be listening to Hesitant Alien by Gerard Way.

So I haven’t heard any of the stuff from the band post breakup but pre reunion. I was barely a person in 2011 so I had missed the bandom train on account of being 9. I’m not sure what to expect other than it’ll probably be fairly different from mcr’s stuff but I figured this would be the easiest place to start as I’m already so familiar with Gerard’s voice. I get the sinking feeling this album is about to emotionally wound me.

The Bureau: ok this has a funky vibe, feels like haunted. The new vibe isn’t too jarring but will take a bit of adjusting to. Sounds sick, not sure if it’ll become a favorite.

Action Cat: gnarly guitar opening, good guitar very poppy. I like it, it’s got a fun vibe. I get what people were saying when they said this album had a retro vibe to it. I’m sorta realizing I might not have much to say in terms of analysis, I have a tendency to spice out and loose myself to music when I listen.

No Shows: oooo this has a good pulse to it, oh I like this. I like this vibe, it’s got a groove to it that I really dig. There’s so much fuzz. It’s welcome but there’s so much fuzz man.

Brother: I’ve heard about this one, I’m wary this one may emotionally hurt me. Yup this is gonna hurt. It’s very pretty but ow. God I wish I could be that close to someone, unfortunately my own siblings are incredibly shitty people.

Millions: again very retro feeling. I like the rhythm. Is that a mixing thing layering his voice or does he have someone backing the vocals in the chorus? It’s nice, a lot of these songs just musically feel really pleasant. I might need to listen to this one a bit more.

Zero Zero: ok spicy drums and guitar combo. Fuzzy vocals my beloved. Oh ok this one fucks like genuinely fucks. I dig this man.

Juarez: guitar is good and I was hit with a wave of familiarity. It reminded me so much of give ‘em hell kid I swear. This rocks, it’s pretty fucking good.

Drugstore Perfume: this sounds really pretty 🥺. I’m getting like Beatles vibes idk why. This is very pretty and I quite like it. I get the feeling my top 5 is going to be rather difficult.

Get the Gang Together: funky opening is funky and good. Spy movie vibes. Vibes 🏳️‍⚧️?

How It’s Going to Be: ooo good beat. It’s giving little talks by of monster and men. Pleasent, that’s about all I can say.

Maya the Psychic: ok I like this vibe, I just don’t have a whole lot to say. Ok this one slaps, this is closer to something I’m more stylistically familiar with which might be why I’m enjoying it a bit more.

Television All the Time: last one, let’s see what we got. The acoustic is really nice. It’s pretty good.

So I didn’t know what to expect and it was pretty good but not quite my personal taste. It was very nice and pleasant to listen to though, which was very nice. I wish I had more to say regarding it but it didn’t really blow me away. Gerard’s voice is soothing and lovely as always tho. My top 5 of the album would have to be…

1: Zero Zero

2: Maya the Psychic

3: Millions

4: Brother

5: No Shows

Well this was fun, now I think I maybe know what to expect with the rest of Gerard’s solo stuff. It’s probably not gonna punch me in the face but it’s pretty good. Not an awful lot of thoughts tonight but I had a nice time.

[light-lanterne]

Hi Angel my dear! 💖 A little late, but I got some song recs as well! (As if I've never send some - and I feel as if I never beat the way your sleep token rec affected me, so..)

"Losing you" by "Dead by April"

"Awake and Alive" by "Skillet"

"Eisblumen" by "Eisblume"

"City" by "Hollywood Undead"

I tried for nothing pop. Teenage me went insane over Skillet, even though it's christian rock, and I threw in Eisblume because... Well, I don't know. Hope you have fun with them anyways 💖

beloved soso ! hi hi ~ please don't worry, my brain is still feverish mush so i can't quite focus on writing or making graphics or anything of such nature, so i remain bored and in need of random entertainment x.x anyway, let's see,,,

(for any newcomers, send me song recs and i shall rate them based on this system ^-^ )

couldn’t listen all the way through | not my thing | it’s okay | kinda catchy | ok i really like this | downloading immediately | already in my library

truth be told, i don't know how i never heard this before >.< i used to be really into this type of soft metalcore when i was younger so this brings me a lot of joy ~!! although, it somehow reminded me a little of "let me hear" by fear and loathing in las vegas (♡),,, maybe the vocalist's sweet tone ? no idea :S

couldn’t listen all the way through | not my thing | it’s okay | kinda catchy | ok i really like this | downloading immediately | already in my library

i feel i'm the last person on earth to hear that skillet is christian music x.x anyway, i adore orchestral elements in music so i really liked the violin part ~ their voices complemented each other really nice and the chorus was quite catchy :O just a liiitle bit repetitive for my eclectic brain u.u

couldn’t listen all the way through | not my thing | it’s okay | kinda catchy | ok i really like this | downloading immediately | already in my library

how pretty ~ i've never heard of eisblume but i really liked the singer's voice, all airy and beautiful :] the music was also really nice ~ reminds me of some of epica's or nightwish's softer songs :O

couldn’t listen all the way through | not my thing | it’s okay | kinda catchy | ok i really like this | downloading immediately | already in my library

let's watch this city burn ~~ from the sky over top the world !! 'til there's nothing left in her; let's watch this city burn the world ~!!!

woo, i haven't heard the hollywood undead in a long time :O anyway, i used to really like this song in high school so woo !! memories !!!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ☽ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

and that's it !! thank you for sending these soso, they were a lot of fun and a really nice mixture :] quite nostalgic, most of these, so yay ~ thanks for the ask ~ hope you're having a good time and that the weather is kind for you tonight >.<

(also, what you said about sleep token,,, >:D )

[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

Hi. It’s me, Fanfic Anon #2. First, EMT, I am so sorry if you felt pressured or anything to publish before you were ready. You have no obligation to post anything I send you ever (and if you ever get mad at me or want me to stop, you can just tell me, I promise I can take a hint!). Without boring you with too much detail, a lot of things I was sending from my phone this weekend were telling me they sent when they never went through so I was afraid that happened here, that’s why I was asking.

Second, I’m going to be traveling home for Christmas on Wednesday, but since I’ve been sitting on this story for that day since there was a conversation awhile back about a certain blonde actress, a song, and a birthday, I wanted to send this in now to make sure I didn’t miss my window. He doesn’t read your blog (not that it isn’t great EMT, but he doesn’t seem like a Tumblr guy to me, Brigitte on the other hand… ha ha), but just in case, happy birthday, Monsieur. 😉

She felt a little stupid as she stood there, trying to psych herself up after she had put the finishing touches to her ensemble. This has been long in the planning, a playful surprise she hoped he’d enjoy, a little gift to mark the day and pull him away from his desk, at least for the next 24 hours. But who was she kidding, really. Even in her prime, she wasn’t anywhere near this woman’s all too famous beauty.

She looks down at her beloved watch, a gift from him, lying on the bathroom counter where she’s placed it, noting the time - just past 1 am, and he still has not come home.

"That’s it, Brigitte," she talked to herself, staring herself down in the mirror with renewed determination, choosing to focus on the love, not the fear, "time to go get him." Appraising her outfit one last time, a lacy white night gown, that while not the sparkling nude dress of the original scene she’ll be trying to recreate tonight, was Marylin enough.

She walked quickly through the short hallways that connected their private apartment and his main office (one of the main advantages of that space being the easy, private, secret way they could get from their home to his office, undetected by any of their nosy staff) before she lost her nerve. She knocked once and waited for the usual, "all clear, chérie," before entering, really not wanting, or needing, anyone else to see her like this.

"I know, I know, it’s late. I should -" he had started talking before he had fully turned around to lay eyes on his wife, his brain short circuiting a little when he finally did so. "Brigitte," he whispered in more than a little awe as he took in the sight of her before him - his wife was truly stunning, and once again he found himself asking how on earth did he get so lucky.

"Don’t move," she warned.

"What do you mean?"

"Just sit there, okay? I have this whole thing planned out. Just enjoy it, ok?"

"Okay," he replied more than a little confused.

The confusion only lasted for a short moment as he heard his wife strike up a very accented, very breathy rendition of "Happy Birthday, Mr. President," as it melted very quickly into an all-encompassing feeling of love for this incredible woman in front of him, turning into a little more than that as he felt her settle into his lap at the grand finale.

"Happy birthday, mon cœur," she wished him a few moments after it had ended, the two of them looking at each other in a meaningful silence, moving her left hand to gently stroke his cheek, the cool metal of her wedding band it’s own sharp brand cutting through the dreamlike state, grounding him in the reality of the moment.

"Thank you, Marylin," he replied with a teasing smile.

"I’m not Marylin," she replied, ducking her head a little.

"Hey, none of that. And it’s my birthday now, I guess, I haven’t checked the time -"

"It’s after 1."

"It’s my birthday, so you have to listen to me."

"Oh do I now?" she challenged, not willing to let that comment go uncommented upon, even if it was his birthday.

"On this you do," he replied seriously, not taking her teasing bait. "You’re my Marylin."

"Well, this was meant to motivate you to come to bed, so what do you say. Can you step away?"

"Oh. Yeah. I’m highly motivated."

"Then, let’s go, birthday boy," she said starting to get up from his lap, only to be stopped by his hands on her hips, pulling her back down.

"Or -"

"Or, what?"

"Or, we could stay here for a bit and not work."

"What kind of ‘not work’ do you have in mind?"

"Here. Let me show you,” he smirked as he worked on “unwrapping” the best gift he’d ever received.

Helloooo fanfic Anon #2! ❤️

Absolutely no problem at all!

Hope you have a nice Christmas time back home with your family! ❤️

Hahaha I’m sure neither of them (or anyone on their team) reads my blog!

What an adorable and sexy piece 🥰😏 I just imagine Emmanuel’s reaction to this hahaha completely melting at Brigitte 🤤

I bet he never was as motivated and happy to “work” late at the office as in that moment 🤭😏

Thank you so much, fanfic Anon #2! ❤️❤️❤️

[jester-step]

thinking about jonathan sims being asexual. thinking about how most ace/ace-coded characters in media are represented as cold, distant, unfeeling, too busy, smart, or ambitious for sex, “barely human”, sometimes literal robots or aliens. thinking about jon, who first comes off as cold and rude but who we gradually discover to be compassionate, anxious, kind of a dork, funny, lonely, stubborn, brave. who struggles so much with his own humanity. thinking about the aces who feel different, disconnected, broken, who lack or have a complicated relationship with “the thing that makes us human.” thinking about jon, who even in his worst moments, cares so much and loves so deeply. who, on the surface, embodies the asexual stereotype of a character who’s too cold and inhuman for sex, and yet who subverts that stereotype over and over again by being a complex character struggling with his disconnection from other people in a way that beautifully ties into the unfortunately common asexual experience of feeling broken and yet who remains so very human, despite everything. thinking about how jonny probably didn’t consider all this when he wrote jon as asexual but fuck it it’s 3am and i’m emotional over the jarchivist. uh, in this essay i will-

[its-afucking-mess]

you're the only thing i think i got right (i'd never give you away) - Ethan Torchio x reader- a birthday gift for allie <3

@writingmaneskin is officially a year older and i want to give this as a present <3 i love u so so much beloved, i hope u like this one

its a small fluffy thing with married eth n reader (havinf kids is mentioned) idk my thought process was just 'hm. yes' when i wrote and i didnt question how the plot came to be really

(no tags because ive forgotten my taglist entirely 💀 im sorry)

title from 5sos' "Lover of Mine"

______________

Your key turned in the lock and you took a deep breath. It has been a long day and you were tired and aching and just wanted to get five minutes peace. You braced yourself for the inevitable onslaught of questions from the children as soon as the door opened. Nothing. It was quiet.

“Honey?” you called out as you put your bag down on the table and hung your coat up.

You heard the bedroom door open and out walked Ethan. He smiled at you with that easy charm that had attracted you to him in the first place.

“Good afternoon, love,” he greeted you, placing a kiss on your cheek.

“I can’t help but notice how quiet it is…” You trailed off as you saw the guilty look on his face. “Oh, Ethan. What have you – “

“Nothing!” He answered quickly. He looked at the confusion on your face. “Look… I know I’ve not been exactly attentive lately. I know work’s not been easy for you. Me being away on shows… It puts a lot of pressure on you where the kids are involved.”

Your eyes teared up as the guilt you felt threatened to spill out.

“Hey! It’s ok! Oh, my love. Come here.” Ethan gathered you into his strong arms. The tears you’d been holding in began to spill from your tired eyes and he held you tighter still.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Ethan. I don’t know… I didn’t realise…” You pulled away, wringing your hands.

Ethan led you to the sofa by your arm and sat you down.

“Listen, the kids are with my mum. They are staying for the night. They couldn’t wait to go play with their aunties.” He explained. “Tonight, my love. Tonight, is about you.”

You glanced up at him through tear-soaked lashes. Your heart sank. Oh, you loved your husband – who wouldn’t. He was absolutely beautiful. He oozed charm from every pore, and he was so talented. You’d be a fool to turn down an evening with him… But you had heard these lines before from past partners. You were just so tired, and everything hurt. Yes, your sex life was amazing… but it just wasn’t what you were up for right now.

“Ethan…” you began quietly. “I… I’m just so tired and… I don’t… don’t…” You started sobbing again. You covered your face with your hands.

You felt him shift closer to you on the sofa. He pulled you to lay your head against his chest. He smelt so good – like your safe space. You sobbed quietly against his blue brushed cotton shirt. You felt his hand smoothing down your unruly hair.

“Honey, I don’t think you understood what I meant. Tonight, is about you. Let me look after you.”

You sniffled and looked up at his worried face.

“I know you’ve been struggling, love. I appreciate all you do for the kids and I and I wanted to show you by having an evening just for you. I thought some chill out activities and a takeaway of your choice?” He looked so anxious that you felt your heart swell.

“For me? I don’t know what I want to do. But a takeaway does sound good. Oh! Could we try that new Indian place that just opened? I thought it sounded lovely but… well, you know how fussy the kids can be.” You smiled up at him hopefully.

“My darling, anything for you. Which reminds me!” He moved from underneath you and stood up, rubbing his hands together gleefully. You smiled. He was so expressive with his hands. You could often tell his moods by the way he handled them.

“Am I allowed to… Hey!” You laughed as he pulled you up from the sofa and embraced you. You tipped your head up to look at him and closed your eyes as he brought his face down to yours. Your lips met softly, and he kissed you gently. The intensity behind the kiss made you feel dizzy.

“Come on,” he whispered, taking your hand and walking you towards the bedroom. He sensed your hesitation and smiled coyly. “No, it’s nothing like that. Come on.”

You let him lead you down the hallway and he stopped in front of the door.

“Close your eyes,” he urged. You did as he asked, and he began to pull you into the room you shared.

“Okay… open!” he commanded.

As you opened your eyes, you gasped. Turning your head, you gazed stunned at the room. Candles adorned the surfaces and there was a gentle smell of flowers. The bedding had been changed to soft Egyptian cotton in a blush colour.

He waited anxiously for your reaction.

“Ethan… Did you do all this for me?” You smiled softly at him, and you saw his face open into a wide grin.

“You deserve to feel calm and relaxed. I hoped this would help. But it isn’t all!” He was so excited that it was contagious.

“What else could there possibly be?” You giggled.

“Ok, so…” He led you through the ensuite door into the bathroom.

You gasped as you looked around the room. More candles were placed around the bath and the water was full of a beautiful, scented oil and flower petals.

“Oh, Ethan!” you exclaimed as you moved to embrace him. “You did all this for me? Are you planning to join me?” You wiggled your eyebrows suggestively.

He laughed. “No, darling. This is for you. Now go get yourself ready whilst I top up the warm water for you.”

You went back into the bedroom and started to remove your clothing. As you took your work clothes and placed them in the laundry hamper, you smiled again at Ethan’s thoughtfulness. It had been some time since you had spent time alone together. It seemed selfish when he was home from travelling to spend one on one time as you know how much the kids missed their dad when he was away.

“Honey, are you ready?” he called from the other room.

“Coming now, sweetheart!” You replied. You decided to dispense of the robe you’d usually wear into the bathroom.

His face lit up as he saw you enter the room naked.

“You… You never fail to astound me with your beauty, my love.” He stammered.

“You old romantic, you” You teased as you sank into the warm water. You moaned as it heated your aching muscles.

“Well… That’s a welcome sound.” Ethan said, grinning. “But plenty of time for that another time!”

You looked at him in confusion. You’d decided that you couldn’t resist him for too long. He was trying so hard, and you really were starting to feel better.

“Now, you just lie there and let the oils and warmth do their job. I have brought something in that I think you’ll appreciate.” He said as he reached behind the towel rack. He pulled out an old, battered copy of your favourite book. He smiled as he saw the look of wonder on your face.

“I know you haven’t had much time to read in recent months with how busy life has gotten. I know that this is your favourite book… Like the ragged edges wouldn’t have given it away!” He chuckled.

“Thank you, Ethan. Really. This is lovely. If you could pass me the towel, I’ll dry my…”

“No.” he interjected. “You are going to lay right there and relax. Let me read it to you, my love. I recall you said that you loved the tone of my voice when we first got together.. So, please, allow me to transport you away whilst you rest.”

“That would be lovely,” you smiled at him.

You closed your eyes and settled into the water as you listened to Ethan transport you away to a world you knew so well. One you’d visited millions of times and you just can’t tear yourself away from. Ethan’s voice only served to immerse yourself deeper into that world.

“Darling…” Ethan’s voice roused you from your happy place. “I worry the water will be getting too cold for you if you stay in there much longer.”

“Yes,” you murmured, coming round from the fantasy realm inside your brain.

“Now,” he said, grabbing the shower head. “Let me help you wash yor hair, hm?”

He turned the shower head on and waited till it was an ambient temperature.

“Is this ok for you?” He asked. You moved your hand under it.

“Just right” you winked at him.

“Then let me, hopefully, make you feel salon good” He laughed.

He set to work on wetting your hair thoroughly as you closed your eyes. He picked up your favourite shampoo and squirted some into the palm of his hand. You inhaled as he began to lather it into your hair. It’s comforting scent filled your senses. The feeling of Ethan’s nimble fingers running the length of your hair and back, massaging your scalp gently, caused you to moan quietly.

“Later, my love” Ethan whispered in your ear, continuing with his administrations to your hair. He gently began to rinse out the lather, holding the showerhead with one hand and running his fingers through your wet locs with the other to ensure the shampoo was all gone.

“First part done… Now for the conditioner.” He said to himself. You knew he was enjoying himself as you could hear the admiration for a job well done in his voice. It made you smile.

He ran his fingers through your wet hair starting from the bottom and working his way up.

He set about rinsing the conditioner from your hair and you smiled to yourself. Ethan was acting adorable tonight. He reminded you of when you’d first met all those years ago… Before life got in the way. Before marriage. Before kids.

“Love?” he asked, rousing you from your thoughts. “Ready to get out?”

You began to stand, and Ethan helped you as you stood upright.

“Your foot, my love?” he asked as he held the towel. He gently dried your foot and up you leg. It felt good. “And the other?” He repeated. You stepped out the bath onto the mat on the bathroom tiles.

Ethan enveloped you inside the soft fluffy towel and kissed your forehead. You felt your legs go from under you as he scooped you easily into your arms and you giggled, gently smacking his toned chest.

“Ethan! I can walk!”

“You can, love, but why should you have to?” He grinned at you.

He carried you into the bedroom and set you down gently on the bed. You pulled him down onto you by his shirt collar and kissed his gently. Your lips began to press against his with an urgency and he pulled away slightly.

“Not yet, my love” he sighed, breathlessly. “I have another surprise for you.”

You raised yourself up on your elbows and arched an eyebrow at him.

“Ethan Torchio… What are you up to?” You asked him suspiciously. He rarely turned down your advances. And just how often was it you were child free to enjoy it?

“On your front, darling.” He directed. “You’ll appreciate this. I hope so anyway.”

He knelt next to you on the bed and reached for a bottle off the bedside table. You turned your head towards him confused but intrigued. He rubbed the substance between his hands and the smell of oranges and… something you didn’t quite recognise… filled the room.

His hands touched your shoulders, and he began to knead the sore muscles.

“Ethan… oh… oh that feels… oh” You sighed contentedly.

“Just relax, darling. Enjoy the sensations.” He whispered as he leant in close to your ear. You shivered slightly at his breath on your sensitive neck.

He expertly kneaded and works on the knots and stiff muscles and continued down the rest of your back. It felt so good, and you could even remember when you last felt so relaxed.

“Turn around,”

You did as he said, and he began to work his way down your front. He skimmed past you hips and began to massage your legs. It felt good but you couldn’t help the small whine that escaped your lips.

“We’ve been through this, darling.” He said, voice struggling slightly as he controlled himself. “Not yet.”

He massaged your thighs and your calves and began to work on your feet. You groaned as he rubbed the sore arch of your left foot. He was so gentle and soft, yet the pressure was perfect for making the tendon relax.

“Ethan, you are so good at this. I…”

“I got lessons in Atlanta. I have planned this for quite some time, darling. I wanted it to be perfect.” He interjected.

You pulled yourself up onto your elbows so you could see him.

“Ethan, sweetheart, I didn’t need all of this. I love you. I know I can be grumpy sometimes but… Life is hectic, and I don’t always feel like the woman you married. I worry you won’t want me anymore.”

Ethan looked up from your foot with such concern in his eyes.

“Darling, of course I still want you! Why wouldn’t I? You had me from that very first meeting. I’ve told you this many times. You made me the happiest man alive when you agreed to be my wife. And you have never looked more beautiful than when you gave birth to our children. You gave me a family. Us a family. You have supported my career and never complained when I’ve had to go away for touring or press interviews or…anything”

You reached for his hands and squeezed gently.

“I love you, Ethan. I always have. I always will.” You kissed his nose and laughed as he wrinkled it adorably. “So… what’s next then?”

At that exact moment, your stomach grumbled.

Ethan threw back his head with a laugh. He handed you a bag from beside the bed. You peered in and saw the most beautiful silken camisole top and shorts in a beautiful shade of baby blue.

“Oh Ethan!” you gushed pulling them out of the bag. “They’re beautiful!”

“Not as beautiful as you, my love.” He said, standing up. “Now put them on and I’ll meet you in the living room where we will order something to eat – your choice.”

He strolled out the room with you gazing lovingly after him.

You moved slowly and pulled on the pyjama set. It fitted perfectly and hugged to your curves in just the right way. You threw your damp hair up in a bun. You stretched slowly and lazily. You padded softly to the living room to find Ethan on the sofa. He had made you both a cup of herbal tea and had your favourite blanket ready for you to curl up in next to him.

Sitting next to him, you picked up one of the menus he had placed upon the coffee table.

“Definitely this one, please” you passed it to him eagerly.

“Indian it is, my love.”

He rang the order through and sat back against the sofa. You curled into his side, and he wrapped the blanket over your legs and placed his arm around your shoulder.

“Ethan…” you began.

“Yes, my love?” he answered.

“Can we watch The Princess Bride?” You looked at him with pleading eyes.

His eyes crinkled around the edges as he smiled back at you.

“As you wish.”

Your heart swelled as he went to put the DVD on, and you settled down together. You really were feeling so much better and maybe this was just the thing you had needed.

The doorbell went and you paused the film as Ethan went to answer the door and pay for the delivery. You went to the kitchen and found plates for you both and some cutlery. You were sorting out some glasses of water when Ethan brought the food through to plate up.

Once you had shared out the food between you, you both went and settled on the sofa and started the film again. You watched and chatted whilst you ate. The food was delicious. Soon, you were too full to eat anything else and the film had finished.

“Ethan, do you want to pick a film?” You asked. Seeing the look on his face as he went to answer, you followed with “I insist”.

“Ok.” He nodded. “I choose…” He looked at the DVD shelves and paused dramatically. “I choose Withering Heights!”

You grinned up at him. His eyes sparkled as he knew you wouldn’t argue with his choice.

“Perfect choice, sweetheart.” You answered.

The DVD started and Ethan and you settled on the sofa. You curled into his side with your head on his lap and your blanket wrapped around you. He absentmindedly stroked your hair and you sighed contentedly.

Next thing you remembered, you felt weightless. You opened your eyes confused and realised your husband was carrying you to bed.

“Oh, Ethan! I’m so sorry!” you cried softly as you realised you must have fallen asleep.

He kissed your forehead gently.

“Do not apologise for needing rest. This is exactly what I wanted for you. I want you to be able to relax and recuperate.” He countered.

He laid you on the bed and pulled the bedding down. You crawled onto your side, and he pulled the sheets up over you. He undressed as you watched him.

“I feel like I’m being watched,” he laughed. “Good job for you… I like it.”

He slid into the bed behind you, and you scooted back to lie against him. His arms held you tightly from behind and he kissed your neck softly.

“Goodnight, my love. I love you so very much and I’m glad I could show you this evening how appreciated you are.” He whispered into your ear.

“I love you, Ethan.” You replied sleepily.

You drifted off to sleep feeling relaxed and calm, safe in the arms of the man you loved. At that moment, everything was perfect.

Note: i hope this didnt get your hopes high about me returning to this account, i just thought it was better to post it here considering people might enjoy this. stay safe, loveyall

[bluemoose86]

Did Someone Say Roommate/Neighbor AUs????

Hey all! I’m Moose and since I’ve been on a bit of a fanfic kick lately (Mailee my beloved), here’s some roommate/apartment neighbor AU prompts I came up with. This is my first time coming up with AU prompts so hopefully I did them right lol (and hopefully they’re somewhat original). Enjoy and let me know which ones you like!

Our apartment walls are pretty thin so I can hear you playing music and you’ve been playing the sAME GODDAMN SONG FOR THREE DAYS SHUT THE FUCK UP ALREADY”

“You’re taking way too long in the shower so I go over to bang on the door and yell at you to hurry up and wAIT THE DOOR CAME OPEN SHIT SHIT SHIT”

Alternatively: “I was showering and all of a sudden the door banged open followed by a lot of yelling and cursing and now you won’t look at me are you ok???”

“You and whoever you have over have been screaming at each other for half an hour and I have no idea what you’re yelling about but I’m coming over to tell you to quiet down and just as I get to the door it flings open and whoever you were yelling at almost knocks me over but wait now you’re crying like a lot WAIT DID THEY JUST DUMP YOU?!”

“You were in a rush to leave this morning and when you came back I noticed your outfit was basically all from my closet and you think I’m upset and you’re trying to apologize but I’m not listening bc that’s my favorite shirt and you look so cute also the thought of you wearing my clothes all day definitely doesn’t turn me on ofc not nope not in the slightest”

“We’re roommates and sometimes you mumble in your sleep but tonight you keep yelling one person’s name and it sounds bad oh my god now you’re crying what did they do to you”

“I asked you to buy me coffee a few times and now it’s a thing except you bring me the wrong order every time and I don’t know how to tell you this without making you feel bad so I always drink it anyway but it literally gets worse every time I swallow and idk how much longer I can last”

[sombreboy]

Expensive doll⇢jjk & pjm

[ masterlist ] Serves as an afterstory for our series Mused Obsession, but can be read on its own. 

Written together with @chimoona​ as JM and @sombreboy​ as JK

Synopsis: In celebration of their one year anniversary, Jungkook dresses Jimin up in lingerie & makeup as his picture-perfect doll and ruins him in every way he desires.

⇢Explicit (18+) ⇢Pairing: Jungkook & Jimin ⇢Genre: smut, mxm ⇢Word count: 15.7k ⇢Ch.warnings: Profanity, JM dressing in lingerie and wearing makeup, messy kissing, degrading petnames and dirtytalk, breathplay, bj, praise kink, JK's fetish for crybaby JM remains intact, body worship, foot fetish JK literally slorps JM's petite little foot and it is v erotic join us feet hoes, some biting, mentions of blood(from a sharp stiletto lol dw), ok hold up and stay w me here JK rides JM but he is in no way a bottom, this is some top ridin' stuff to drive Jm mad and let me tell you it works, then JK puts little JM back in his place where he belongs stuffed with dick, rough fucking, in fact its so rough that JM can't hold his pee im not even sorry-- it was hot, idk what else if you've read any of my stuff you should just kinda know what you're up for. xo

The chime of the security alarm strikes the quiet mansion as Jungkook shuts the door behind him, kicking off his shoes in a hurry. He hugs luxury shopping bags close to his chest, trembling with excitement. He'd been holding onto the bags at work to ensure Jimin didn't see them for days, which felt like months—especially today, to finally come home to his favorite person in the entire universe and spend their first official anniversary together.

It's been an entire year since Jimin proved his love and dedication to the photographer, and life couldn't be any better than it is now. They're unstoppable, thriving as the biggest names in the industry. With a lot of fame—a lot more on Jimin's end—comes a lot of work and less time together, except for when they manage to crawl into bed at the end of the day. So, Jeon Jungkook wanted to make tonight extra special. He'd missed having Jimin truly just for himself; not just as a boyfriend, but as a model and his muse.

"Baby, I'm home." Jungkook calls out as he eyes the rooms, listening to where Jimin could be. He knows the model had the day off, so the younger man had given him a little white lie—he wouldn’t be able to make it home early. Yet here he is, giddy like a child and ready to surprise his beloved butterfly.

"Come to me~" He adds cheerfully while walking towards the stairs, searching for Jimin when he hears the small thuds of his lover's light footsteps.

"K-kookie?" Jimin calls from their bedroom, rubbing his sleepy eyes after a long nap. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Jungkook arrive.

Thinking he had more time to get dressed and ready for their night together, he's caught, fresh from restful sleep, wearing only an oversized t-shirt and tight black briefs. The night was planned to a T...in Jimin's mind. A brand new suit hung in the walk-in closet, designed and tailored specifically for his body. He knows how the young photographer likes to ogle when the fabric of his pants hugs his plump cheeks daringly, almost too tight for a public setting.

But tonight, there will be no public outing. No distractions from the outside world, getting in the way of their time together.

As high-profile as the two men have grown over the last year, they've found it hard to take a leisurely night out on the town without being spotted by a fan of their work or an industry mate trying to cut into their fun. It's been a rollercoaster, but it's been the thrill of their lives. Even then, it's necessary to plan nights of relaxation and indulgence. So, Jimin set out candles and dipped ruby ripe strawberries in milk chocolate, planning a romantic night with just the two of them. He even chilled a bottle of overpriced champagne—a gift from Namjoon, hand-delivered for the happy couple. It was assumed that since Jungkook was working late, the ambiance of a well-kept home and a willing partner was all he wanted anyhow... Until, of course, Jimin glides down the stairs and spots his lover with armfuls of bags. Designer bags.

"Welcome h-ooome," he yawns, still finding his voice, "And happy anniversary, baby." He leans in and stands on his toes, pressing his body into the bags held at Jungkook's chest to give him a sweet kiss. "I missed you a lot...and I cleaned up too, but I guess I fell asleep at some point. I was going to get all pretty for you, so just pretend I'm dressed up right now."

“You’re gorgeous, baby.” Jungkook smiles into the kiss, returning it softly. He pulls back to drink in the fresh state Jimin is in. No makeup, barely dressed... It's like the visionary’s plans were fated to happen. “And this is perfect for what I have planned for you. A clean canvas, so to speak.” The young photographer adds as he hands over the bags to his lover. “Take off everything you’re wearing and put this on, nothing else. And bring the small bag with you to the studio.” He leans in closer to allow the hot breath of every spoken word to fan over Jimin’s cheek, whispering his next words. “I’ll be waiting for you. Okay? Now go.”

Accustomed to following the photographer's orders, Jimin doesn't waste a moment scurrying to the bathroom and peeling off his shirt on the way in. He kicks off his underwear and sits on the closed toilet seat to skim through the first bag's contents. The second he runs his hands over smooth silk ribbons and lace, his heart leaps out of his chest. 

Lingerie. Women's lingerie, he notes internally as his fingers skim the fabric with a timid touch. It feels small in his hand, and he already knows it's not meant to cover much. Jungkook has always been an appreciator of visual art, and in the back of Jimin's mind, he always knew this moment would come. The female form can be voluptuous and sensual—soft to the touch and comforting when held close. 

Without taking the lingerie out to inspect it closely, Jimin knows this look is made to illuminate his feminine traits—to hug the small of his waist and accentuate the curve of his hips, prominently displaying some of his lover's favorite parts with exaggerated flair.

As a former full-time model, Jimin doesn't think twice about indulging this new request from Jungkook. He's been half-naked in front of strangers in very scandalous clothing, it's only right he indulges his partner with the same courtesy, under his exact specifications. 

He sets the smaller bag aside and removes the clothing, gasping at the bright red shade the younger man had chosen. It looks like fresh blood as he tugs it onto his small body—ribbons drip down his legs to capture the matching set of pure red stockings. When he slips them over his legs, they stop at the feet, hugging them tight and showing the delicate curve of his arches.

A slender garter belt cinches high around his waist and rests low on his hips, made of a thin weave of lace that opens up at the belly button to show off the cute dip of his tummy. Not even fully dressed, he feels pretty...desirable. With each new addition, he feels his confidence grow, matching the opulent fit his love has chosen for their special occasion. Jimin grasps the silk ties that dangle off the belt and loop them into the stockings, holding them tight against his body and matching the two pieces as one. He takes his time to billow the ties into eye-catching bows, adding more of a feminine flair to his long slender legs. 

He opens another bag and clasps his hand over his mouth, pulling out an accompanying bralette, so fair and petite. It's soft on his skin. Everything feels so soft and erotic, like it was crafted to draw moans from his mouth before he's even touched by warm hands. The gentle graze of the lace over his nipples makes him bite his lower lip to push back building arousal. When he crosses his legs to finish clasping the bralette behind his back, he feels the rub of new lace against his cock, only drawing his attention to the fact that women's underwear does not provide enough room to hold him fully. If he gets harder, which he's certain he will, it will be impossible not to poke out and dribble over the rouge fabric.

Once Jimin empties the bags and slips every bit of clothing onto his body, he steps back to admire the full look. Even in the dim bathroom mirror, he finds every little bit of his form jaw-dropping as it's prettily wrapped in red. But no look is complete without a matching set of kitten heels, which he slips onto his red silken feet. He immediately notices how the added height accentuates his plump cheeks, out in the open, skimmed down the center with a cheeky thong.

"Woah..." The model takes a few strides across the bathroom floor to get a feel for the new footwear. A few clumsy trips over the tile to get started, but after a couple minutes, his confidence is through the roof. He can stride effortlessly and sway his hips in a subtle yet seductive manner.

"O-okay." He psyches himself up, licking his thick lips in a quick swipe while he drinks in a final look of his fit. He grabs the smallest bag, still unopened, and exits the bathroom to find Jungkook waiting for him in his personal studio.

Meanwhile, Jungkook just finished setting up the finishing touches to his studio and waited for the most important centerpiece of the night. His favorite camera sits on a tripod next to his large armchair, which is to be his spot to admire his creation. He presses record before he forgets to, and knowing how he will soon see his lover in the new lingerie, there'd be no time to think about whether or not the camera captures it all. What he didn't expect, however, was to find the fresh chocolate dipped strawberries, paired with a bottle of champagne. He immediately noted that this wasn't something he had in his own collection, so he figured this was Jimin's preparation for the night.

"So sweet to me, always.." Jungkook sighs dreamily when placing the strawberries and the bottle on the small table next to his chair as he takes his seat. His lover always finds little ways to show his affection; always considerate of Jungkook in everything he does. It's cute, and even if the elder man's plans might not be what he initially thought, Kook is sure that this will surpass anything he had in mind.

"He should be here soon..." He leans back in his seat, still wearing the suit he'd worn all day at work. His strong, tattooed fingers wrap around his tie and tug at it to loosen the fabric a bit. He rolls up the sleeves of his white dress shirt after discarding the suit jacket to let it be thrown on the floor behind the chair. His breathing slows down when he listens intently for the powerful sound of heels coming from the bedroom, echoing in the hallway. Although he knows what to expect, he still doesn't know just how it would look-- how his Jimin would pull off the look. The thick swallow in anticipation causes his adam's apple to bob, already excited as his heart beats harder in his chest.

Jimin bottles his nerves and clicks his heels with slow steps, echoing deliberately on the hard floor until he reaches the studio doorway.

"Don't laugh, okay?" He smirks at his own words, still hidden around the corner of the doorframe, knowing there's no way on earth Jungkook could find this fit humorous. "I'm coming in..."

One step forward, and he's basked in the low light of the photographer's setup. He swallows hard at the first sight of Jungkook, even when he's dressed the same as when he left him. The loosened tie captures his attention, and he swallows again at the thought of holding it while he glides his silken legs over his lover's lap to ride him roughly. The anticipation of what Jungkook has in store for Jimin is overwhelming.

Jimin gives the photographer a moment to gather himself before he walks forward, placing one heel in front of the other and sashaying his hips with each step. The camera blinks red to indicate it's recording, and Jimin doesn't let it distract his attention for a second. He moves in a slow weave, looking up at his partner under a tempting hooded gaze--long eyelashes beckoning him closer. When he reaches the center of the studio, he stops for further instruction, standing with confidence and poise. 

"You chose well, baby. I love it." He gives a slow twirl, pivoting on his slim heel to show off the back, pausing to give the younger man a good look. "...do you like it?"

“I really like it.. I knew you’d look perfect in this.” Jungkook drinks in the entirety of his lover, his heavy gaze not leaving a single inch of the model's body unseen. The lingerie is perfect, covering just enough—but doesn’t hide anything. His hungry eyes travel down the blonde model’s back; from his slender back to his plump ass, not to mention how the posture from the heels make it stand out even more. “Did you bring the small bag?” He asks, beckoning Jimin to come closer with a wave of his hand, itching to feel his delicate body beneath his fingertips.

Jimin nods yes, stepping towards his lover. "I didn't peek, I was good." He says it in an innocent tone, as if he doesn't look like a goddamn succubus in fuck-me heels. A brilliant red strap of his bralette slips down his shoulder, which he takes his time slipping back into place. Even if he feels a bit out of place in this new look, he pulls it off with grace and seduction.

Jimin hands the bag to Jungkook. "I'm sure whatever it is, it'll make this moment even better." He kneels at the photographer's feet in a natural subservient position, resting his elbows on the man's thighs and peering up at him for further instruction.

"Yes." Jungkook says softly while taking the bag in his hands, giving Jimin an approving smile. While his face remains unbothered, the strain of his half erect cock proves that he's anything but. The visuals of the elder in such sinful fabrics drives him crazy, and eager to ruin them in every way he pleases. "You're such a good boy to me. Always trusting me with your everything."

Jungkook digs into the bag, pulling out a small, high end lipstick. He puts the bag to the side, grabbing Jimin's chin with his free hand while popping the lid off the lipstick with his thumb, leaning forward in his seat to get a proper look of his lover's bare face. 

"Pout." He instructs, twirling the little stick to slide the blood red lipstick from hiding, bringing it close to Jimin's plump lips. When the blonde does as told, he gently swipes the crimson color onto the delicate skin of Jimin's lower lip. His cock throbs at how effortlessly it stains his pretty mouth, and he keeps adding more; layer after layer until he's satisfied with the deep, bloody red adorning one of many favorite features of his man. 

"You look like a doll already, so pretty.." Jungkook sighs, a mixture of his adoration and sexual frustration building at the sight. But he's patient, and leans back a bit to inspect his work, moving his hold on the smaller man's jaw to rub his thumb over Jimin's lips, staining the pad of his finger in the process.

A moan presses passed Jimin’s pursed pout. All he’s ever wanted since he met the mysterious man is to be everything for him—there, at his feet, living to serve his deepest desires. To give a taste of his commitment to the role, he swipes his pierced tongue over the finger in a slow motion.

“I can see how hard you’re getting, Kookie...” He takes the thumb between his stained lips and circles his tongue around it, releasing with a light pop. “...seeing me like this, dressed in the underwear you chose...” He peers down at the slick thumb and admires the prominent stain—a perfect shade to match the rest of his ensemble. “...bet you’d love to admire every inch of your creation.” Jimin circles his tongue around the digit once more and pulls it into his mouth, humming his pleasure into the photographer’s skin. He brings a hand up to palm his lover’s stiffening length through unbuttoned pants.

"Mm, you know exactly what I like." Jungkook purrs, glancing down for a moment to watch Jimin's delicate hand touch his hard length, now prominent through the fabrics keeping it hidden. His gaze travels back to the model's face. Seeing Jimin's doe eyes look up at him with such submission, admiration... love. It drives the photographer mad with desire.

"There's so much I wanna do to you." He breathes out, his sentence ending with a quiet moan as he bucks up into Jimin's small palm. When his lust takes over, slowly and steadily, his impulses grow more reckless. "Or make you do, for me.." He adds before swiping his thumb over the lipstick once more, dragging the pad of his digit further past the corner of the model's mouth. A stripe smeared in red adorns Jimin's cheek like a small chelsea smile-effect. Jungkook's hand moves back down to wrap behind Jimin's neck, covering his nape with the warmth of his palm as he leans forward to draw his lover in for a messy kiss, aiding in the destruction of the pretty lipstick he'd just applied. 

A red mess is created between the two, their lips coated with splashes of the color and the taste of chemicals mixing with their saliva. But Kook doesn't care—instead, he enjoys every second of it, forcing his tongue between Jimin's parted lips to claim his mouth.

"Look at you..." Jungkook murmurs when he pulls back, the thick string of saliva connecting their tongues breaking off when he speaks, watching it fall to stick to Jimin's chin. "Your makeup got ruined, what a shame.." The faux concern in his tone is evident in contrast to the pleased fire in his eyes. He takes the lipstick, grabbing the blonde's jaw a bit harder this time to reapply, not bothering to wipe off the already smeared makeup around the lips. "Baby... Take my dick out while I fix this, I'm aching."

Jimin pants, left breathless from the younger man's kiss. "Mm--ah...okay." His hand resumes gentle strokes over the clothed length, just feeling for a moment while he distracts his mind from his own growing erection. The press of his pink swollen cock head tests the integrity of the lace, making it bulge out noticeably. When his hand slips into Jungkook's pants to pet him bare, he can't bite back the whimpers of need that brush his partner's fingers.

"Y-you really are aching." Jimin's mouth salivates, murmuring the words to avoid messing up Jungkook's artwork. "Fuck...so big, baby." The blonde model uses one hand to tug down his lover's pants and underwear while the other maintains a languid pace over his silken skin. He takes a pause to bring his messy lips close, wetting Jungkook's shaft with an audible spit that dribbles down his chin. He's never been perfect at following instructions when arousal fogs his mind. At this moment, he needs to hear the slick sounds of cock in his hand. He needs to feel the warmth of blood pulsating under his touch, stiffening and dripping for more. 

"May I taste you, sir?" He reverts back to his role, asking sweetly, nipping the bottom lip and smudging the lipstick even more. "Please."

“How can I refuse when you ask so sweetly?” Jungkook looks at his creation, already seeing the blonde mess up the lipstick with his spit and nipping of his lips. It both pleased him and annoyed him, but the heavy arousal weighing on him clouds his judgement and makes him more forgiving towards Jimin’s light disobedience. It’s to be expected, and seeing his lips messy and smeared with red while sucking his cock is all the photographer could think of, for now. “If that’s what my baby wants,” he sighs, reaching out to smudge the other end of the corner of the model's mouth, finishing the joker-like smile on his cheeks. 

Kook leans back in his seat again, moving his hands to rest on his thighs. Kook’s gaze is focused on Jimin, drinking in every feature, observing every little movement. He zeroes in on his messy lips, and feels a moan scratching at the back of his throat at the sight. He can’t wait to see his lover turn into a broken mess, one step at a time. 

“Suck it deeply.. take all of it. No teasing.”

To test the waters, Jimin gives a light swipe along the bottom of Jungkook's shaft, drawing his pink muscle up to the tip and swirling it around the leaking slit in tight circles. 

"Mm, uhm—ahh..." Jimin becomes vocal, humming around the thick length as he pops it in and out of his plump lips, watching it twitch with delight each time he strips Jungkook of his building pleasure. Jungkook said not to tease, but the pretty little blonde craves to feel each shudder of arousal. Each touch from him is live-wired to the younger man, and Jimin feels powerful by causing it to happen. Plus, as an added perk, he knows the slow and drawn-out pace will cause more trouble for him in the long-run. And...what's life without a little pain? He anticipates it. He knows, as nicely as he's dressed, his partner can easily turn him into a crying mess without any regard for the flashy fine clothing. No amount of silk and lace can conceal his inner need to be lovingly destroyed. 

With a lasting swipe of his hot tongue across the ridge of Jungkook's tip, Jimin pops it into between his rouge lips, already smearing a bit of the lipstick over the smooth skin. He bobs his head to wet the throbbing cock, spilling his saliva down the length of it with little to no regard for the mess it creates. He knows, better than anyone, the messier he is, the better.

"Ah, mmh—I told you, no teasing..." Jungkook huffs with furrowed brows, focused on how well Jimin takes his girthy length all the way, dragging his tongue against the smooth skin, watching himself get covered in saliva and faint marks of the lipstick.

"Always making it difficult for me, looking so sweet and innocent..." Jungkook licks his lips at the sight of the elder's messy mouth, makeup smearing past his lips and drooling down his chin onto his length. He's sucked the photographer's cock countless times, so he knows exactly how to do it, and his gag reflex had become close to nonexistent. But, that doesn't mean it's not there, one just has to use a bit of force. "But you're anything but innocent, aren't you? Sucking me off like a cockhungry whore." The photographer bites back a moan, unable to keep his hands off of Jimin for too long before he's already weaving his fingers through his lover's blonde curls to get a good grip. He's gentle at first, just feeling the motion of Jimin's head bob up and down his length, wet sounds and whiny, muffled moans filling the room as no other sound is audible inside the isolated space.

"So be it. If you want my cock that badly, then keep sucking." Jungkook tugs at Jimin's hair, forcing his head to move harder and faster. His generous length makes space in the model's delicate throat, forcing the continuous pool of drool to seep from Jimin's mouth to add to the mess, not allowing him to get off to breathe except from his nose.

Jimin crosses his ankles and rests his bare butt on top of the heels. They clack together as he bends forward and bobs his head steadily, opening up his throat to feel Jungkook's wet tip guide the way. Inch by fleshy inch, his lover's cock fills the space within him. It causes his own cock to peek out of the slim red lace and poke Jimin's abdomen as he bends deep. The blonde swallows around Jungkook's fat cock and holds still, warming it as deep as he can possibly bear, forcing himself to wait until he feels lightheaded.

When his lungs burn for breath, he withdraws slowly, tonguing the prominent veins that bulge along his lover's shaft. "Mmf...g-ah—ack!" He chokes on the last couple inches and holds his small palms in the inner curve of Jungkook's thighs for balance. "...Mine. All mine...tastes so yummy," he emphasizes, swiping a bead of precum directly from the leaking slit. Lost in his own little world, feeling pretty yet needy for friction, he wraps a hand around the shaft and strokes it up and down quickly.

" I-I'm your whore, sir." He looks the part—plump lips and cheeks stained with red, stringing long strands of his spit to the younger's twitching head. To the outside world, he's nothing but the most well-kept, straight-laced individual. Here? He lets go entirely, making his body available for use without a care of how someone else perceives him. The only opinion that matters is the man before him. 

Jimin looks down and notices a strap of his bralette had fallen down, only matching his role of sultry temptress...quickly morphing to messy slut. He purposefully lets the other strap fall, looking up at Jungkook with beckoning lashes. 

"Am I doing well?"

"Mm.. Could do better." Jungkook lies, towering over Jimin's small frame on the floor. His long, raven curls fall forward, framing his sharp features. Being in this position, seeing everything from above, makes him feel so utterly powerful. And Jimin's big, glossy eyes meeting his own only adds to the fire that awakens every single hormone in his body.

In reality, Jimin is doing well. In fact, he's doing an amazing job at driving the photographer mad. His cock twitches delightfully in the model's hands, his abdomen tightening in excitement and heart fluttering beneath his heaving ribcage.

"A job well done isn't without your pretty tears, baby." Jungkook says softly, taking deep breaths to keep his voice from wavering too much in pleasure. He strokes his fingers through his lover's bright, silky curls, coaxing him to take him back into his mouth. "Choke on it, but don't make me cum... Just enough to make your eyes sparkle for me."

Jimin chokes on nothing but a quick gasp. "O-of course." He shrinks under Jungkook's commanding gaze and rubs his thighs together, wishing he had permission to adjust his now fully erect cock. To solidify his subservience, on top of his now glassy eyes, he takes another step and clasps his hands behind his back. No ties or cuffs are necessary, although he'd enjoy being bound tight and abused for being a tease—it was the plan all along.

"I love you," he whispers, swallowing down a fresh wave of emotion and looking up to let Jungkook admire the first tear roll down his cheek. The wet droplet catches the makeup and slips off his chin to seep into his bright red lingerie. Jimin holds eye contact and sticks out his tongue, showing off the pretty piece of jewelry at the center, right where Jungkook placed it nearly a year ago. He gives a couple testing kitten licks, then hovers his pout over the tip, plunging the full length down his throat without a testing suck. No more teasing, he tells himself, gagging around the fat cock. 

Just as Jungkook demanded, Jimin strips himself of breath until he's crying for relief. Hands still clasped tight and out of the way, he's given himself no way of escape, showing his true resilience and commitment to the task he's given.

“Oh, my Jimin..” Jungkook sighs in pleasure, watching how his hefty length disappears into the welcoming warmth of his lover's throat. The flesh contracts around him when the model gags, squeezing tightly to draw more low moans and grunts from the photographer. “You’re doing so well now.” He praises, brushing his thumb beneath Jimin’s eye to catch a few tears. He’s convinced that although there’s a million types of makeup to make one look perfect, Jimin looks his prettiest when his skin is glowing from the shine of his tears. The way his submissive stare from below is sparkling like little stars, just for Jeon Jungkook. The way Jimin will endure anything to please.

“Nobody is prettier than you.” Jungkook bites his lower lip at the sight below, and grows impatient. He keeps a tight grip on his lover's hair, cock deeply buried in his throat while he stands up from his seat. “Nobody could ever compare to you, butterfly.” He hisses, feeling the heat of his words creep onto his cheeks while meeting the elders glossy eyes. He withdraws his hips slowly, only to thrust forward and lodge the head of his jeweled cock as deep as possible. He sighs, lip quivering at his lover's compliance. It’s too exciting, his body is practically shaking with itching, aggressive longing to destroy Jimin further. Patience, he reminds himself. It is their special night, so he wants to ensure Jimin feels like the most desired human in the universe.

The warming praise gives Jimin the courage he needs to slide his lips up the rigid length, gliding his wet ribbed tongue in gentle sweeps. His throat burns from the intrusion, yet, it's a familiar sensation and it does very little to detract him from bobbing his head and building up the photographer until he's at his brink. Slick, slobbery sucks and the occasional gag and gasp for breath becomes the playlist of their evening. Even the model becomes affected by his own desperate sounds. He wiggles his plump butt in a subtle motion to take his attention off the desire pulsing in his veins. He sucks and tongues, staring up at Jungkook until his vision blurs with a wave of new tears. Jimin rests back on his heels to catch his breath, letting the throbbing cock flop out of his mouth and into his hand, holding it firm and continuing to bring his lover close to the edge without immediate relief.

"Fuck me." The second the words leave his swollen lipstick-smeared lips is the moment he cracks, just a little. Hot tears fall down Jimin's cheeks--hand stroking the soaked length until he's trembling to be touched. "I n-need you, Kookie."

Within what seems like a split second, Jungkook dropped to his knees on the floor in front of Jimin; framing his small face in his large palms to draw him in for a messy kiss. He can taste everything-- the mixture of lipstick and saliva, sullied with the taste of his own cock lingering on the model's tongue. But the highlight of it all is the salty topping of Jimin's tears, a clear result of his effort and submission that he worked himself so hard that his body rejected it-- and yet endured to fulfill the photographer's desires.

"Haah, you need me?" Jungkook chuckles when he pulls back from the heated kiss, lingering close to softly press his lips over Jimin's damp cheeks. His own are stained with a faint red, transferred from the elder's pillowy ones.

"Sure you're not tired of this cock?" He smiles as he continues to kiss away Jimin's tears, tongue poking out to lick his cheek as his hot breath fans his face. While he does so, his hands let go of Jimin's face to smooth down his slender form, snaking behind his back until they settle on his ass, mercilessly squeezing the flesh between his fingers. "After you got a taste of Joonie, maybe I won't be enough?" Jungkook's wolfish smile doesn't falter, knowing this will tug at his lover's heartstrings. His kisses travel south, leaving red sucks and bites to blossom on the model's fair skin in it's path down to find a spot by his collarbone where he sucks harshly, certain that it'll leave a possessive mark behind.

"Joonie?" The tears on Jimin's cheeks glisten under the studio lights. His quivering bottom lip juts out in a pout as he naturally leans into the breath of Jungkook's suckles. The hot, tongued, needy markings become painful. Jimin huffs out a low moan. "Hyung was big...but he doesn't taste like you...fuck--" He takes Jungkook's face between his hands and returns the kiss, mashing their lips together messily, parting his mouth and giving him a longing taste of what he desires most. The model draws back slowly, making sure thin strands of their combined saliva string between their tongues, obvious for his lover to admire.

"You're more than enough..." Jimin whispers, letting a hand drop back to Jungkook's swollen cock, still dripping wet with his spit and precum. "I only beg for you, baby. I only want you...playing with me...fucking me...using me until I c-cry." He scoots forward and lets the length drop from his hand, then lifts his knees to straddle the photographer's lap on the floor. While the move may be a little too desperate, he doesn't have a single shred of care in his small body. He aches to feel his love's large hands tug at the lingerie, to feel the way his dripping cock strains against the material, and how it hugs his tense thighs. More than anything, he wants to rock his plump cheeks over Jungkook's shaft, until he's shaking to rip off every bit of red satin and lace from his skin. Jimin pleas in a cracked voice. "Will you make me cry, Kookie?"

"How can you say it so sweetly, as if you aren't crying already..." Jungkook admires the disheveled man before him, lips swollen and messy with smeared makeup. The loose bands of the bralette hang down Jimin's small biceps, adding to the vision in the photographer's mind. "You know how I love it when you beg like this." The younger's strained voice breaks into a low, needy growl when aggression fuels his sadistic desires to go further. Jimin knows this is just one of his ways to show his affection, this is how he's always been, and will continue to always be. Jungkook's greedy hands knead at the flesh of Jimin's ass, nails scraping the fabrics of the lingerie, tugging so harshly that it struggles to not break in his grasp. He spreads the model's ass, keeping the lingerie in the way of his tight entrance as his rigid length rubs against it.

"I don't want you to cry..." Jungkook presses Jimin's ass down, rubbing his cock between the soft cheeks of the model's ass. He looks at his face, never wavering the intense eye contact he initiates while one hand withdraws from it's hold to scavenge the floor next to him, grabbing the opened lipstick. He leans forward, one arm snaking around Jimin's small waist to keep him in place, thick length snugly pressed beneath the blonde's weight while the other hand resumes to add another layer of lipstick, fixing the mess without cleaning up what's been smeared. "I want you to scream so loud that you cannot make a single sound," He smiles, pressing the lipstick harder against his lips, adding a second layer, watching the product crumble a little. "I want you to choke on your own cries, because you can't think of anything else but me."

One last swipe, and Jungkook moves on to draw a little heart in the middle of Jimin's chest, filling it in meticulously. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek in focus, before he finishes and looks back up at the elder. "Now..." He sighs, feeling the painful aching when his cock throbs against the damp lingerie separating himself from being inside of Jimin. He nudges his chin in the direction behind him towards the armchair. "Get up."

The soft pink curve of Jungkook’s lips tempts Jimin to lean in and sully his fair skin with the clumpy lipstick. But he refrains, because he trusts the vision of his photographer—always. He looks like sin—dressed as an upscale whore, made a hot mess by the various layers of makeup applied between spit-slicked kisses and mouth fucking. He would have never chosen this look for himself, and that’s part of the thrill. It’s fresh and exciting, knowing only he can fulfill this erotic vision; being the only muse fit for the occasion, or any other.

“Yes, sir.” Jimin stands to his feet, a little wobbly as he adjusts to the height of the heels. The chair feels miles away the farther the small model steps away from his partner. Yet, the mystery of what could come next makes his heart thunder in his chest. He rubs his lips together to smooth the luxe lipstick, rubbing beyond his natural lines to make his pillowy plush pout look even fuller. Jimin sits on the chair, prim and proper with his legs crossed, pointing the tip of a slim heel in Jungkook’s direction.

“How would you like me?” He asks innocently in a sweet tone, as if he isn’t dressed in women’s lingerie, practically dripping with precum, hard cock straining against the lace.

“Like that, just like that...'' Jungkook stares up from his position on the floor, crawling forward on all fours like a predator slowly approaching it's prey. A new spark of various emotions swirl in his gaze, ranging from admiration and affection-- drowning in the crazed hunger that seeps through his blown out pupils. Having the Park Jimin looking like a hot mess made his cock stir painfully as he tucked himself back in his underwear, leaving the pants undone. It wasn't his turn yet, and as they both know-- the reward of patience will be immensely satisfying.

"Can you imagine if anybody else saw you like this? Every media source would explode, the internet would be on fire." Jungkook sighs dreamily from the mere thought of it. What makes it so good, is the fact that he remains the only person... Well, out of two, in the world to see the famous model and designer turn into a submissive plaything. "You'd lose everything... And for what? To please me?" Jungkook shakes his head, chuckling in a mocking manner as if it's unbelievable that Jimin would go such daring lengths of risking everything, time and time again, just to keep Jeon Jungkook happy.

Just to be his whore.

"And that is why I love you... You know exactly how I like you." The photographer says softly. His gaze drinks up the view above him, from Jimin's messy pout, down his clammy, heaving chest, to his crossed thighs hiding the pretty little cock that is most definitely screaming for relief.

"A needy whore. A compliant whore." Jungkook murmurs to himself when his gaze finds the heel pointing at him. His hands greedily reach out to grab Jimin's delicate ankle, kissing and biting at the stockings covering his soft skin. His free hand grabs the shoe, slowly sliding it off to place it on the floor with unexpected care. He looks up at the blonde again, his dark stare softening at the small gasps continuously pushing past Jimin's swollen lips. Kook kisses travel further down, his own breaths becoming heavy and shaky at how feminine Jimin's small foot looks, covered with the see through fabrics, holding it in his hand like it's the most precious thing he's ever seen.

"A doll." He smiles, closing his eyes when he indulges, flattening his tongue to lick a long, slow, stripe from Jimin's heel to his toe.

“S-shit...” The wet pink muscle tickles Jimin’s sensitive arch, but the pressure of it makes it more enjoyable than he anticipated. Every square inch of his body has been worshipped, marked, pleasured, pained, and all the rest of it—every sensation imaginable, Jungkook has inflicted it with purpose. Even as he pleases his own carnal impulses, he dangles new kinks in the model’s face, tempting him to grasp them tight.

“What are you—“ He knew the second he slipped on those tantalizing stilettos that there was a greater plan in store. The dagger-sharp, pointed heels could easily be used as weapons. After a year with Jungkook, he’s learned how much weaponry and danger makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Jimin moans delicately.

“Do you like my feet, puppy?” The glide of Jungkook’s tongue can be felt through the sheer fabric, seeping the moisture of his spit down to the skin. “Want to taste more?” Sitting on his makeshift throne makes him feel power and strength. He’s well aware that in a heartbeat he can be rag-dolled in any position the younger man desires, but he’s placed in a position of command with his partner at his feet. So he lifts his other foot off the floor and places the sharp point of his shoe onto Jungkook’s thigh, digging it into the muscle just a bit. “Tear the stockings, please.” Jimin’s voice shakes. “R-ruin them. Take it off, with your teeth.”

Jungkook's grasp around Jimin's ankle tightens when he feels the pointy heel dig into his thigh, drawing a low moan from deep within his chest. He gazes up at Jimin through his dark lashes, crooking an eyebrow.

"What was that?" his wicked smile is hiding behind Jimin's foot, which he kisses the sole of between his words. "I thought I heard the doll speak, I must be mad..." Jungkook purposely put Jimin in this position, knowing exactly how it'd make him feel to see the photographer on his knees. The bratty side to the model always knew how to spur-- or in this case, literally step on his nerves to get what he wants. It all serves to the buildup of a bigger purpose; the more riled up Jungkook becomes, the harder Jimin gets fucked. And he knows it too well. Just how long it'll take before he gets what he wants, is the big question.

He looks up at his hot mess of a lover again, saying nothing as he silently obeys his wish when he bites down on the fabrics, carelessly dragging his teeth against the fair skin as he does so. He pulls back, ripping the expensive material off like a kid that's too excited on Christmas to care about whether the wrapping paper is torn to shreds. He nips at the broken fabrics, slowly sliding it off from his lower leg and down to slip it off his foot, audibly spitting it out from his mouth to lunge back in. His hands withdraw to settle on the other leg, still covered and dressed with the heel that so deliciously stings into his muscular thigh. He strokes it gently, so carefully it must tickle more than anything, while wrapping his plush, lipstick stained lips around Jimin's toe, sucking and tonguing it shamelessly with low hums in satisfaction and hot breaths through his nose.

It is overwhelming to even think about the erotic visuals he's capturing on camera, so much that his cheeks flush with heat, and his thick bulge twitches with every little stroke of his tongue that snakes around and in-between the model's petite toes.

"Gah--fucking...shit--ah!" Jimin chokes on a whine as his first digit slips into Jungkook's hot mouth. Each delicate nerve ending sparks to life and ripples tingly pleasurable goosebumps up his legs. He clamps his thighs shut and adjusts the heel, scraping into the fabric of his pants, testing the limit of Jungkook's flesh. Mind over matter, the small male wriggles his butt in his seat, internally battling the conflicting tickly sensations vs his overbearing arousal. With just a single toe suckled between his favorite pair of messy lips, his mind numbs and his limbs tense to claw for leverage. Feeling this, and seeing it happen--admiring the way Jungkook's long lashes close gently as he indulges in the moment. Jimin grips the chair arms in both hands and tears his sharp nails into the upholstery. Jimin mewls, straining to keep quiet, allowing his partner to focus on his indulgence.

“Mm--ah, ah, god..." He closes his eyes and simply feels the movement of the wet muscle, licking between his toes, around them, sucking them into his mouth, until they're glistening in his saliva. "M-more--more..." he whispers, slapping a hand over his begging lips. He broke the stocking, slid it off of him with his teeth without any regard to the price or quality of the fabric. No moment of hesitation to argue against the command or counter with something more enjoyable for both of them. Spoiled, is the word Jimin thinks of...he's pampered in this position, given exactly what he needs, like a prized porcelain doll.

"M-mooore," he whines from behind his hand, biting hard into the soft skin between his pointer finger and thumb, muffling the garbled sounds and using pressure to distract. His eyes seek the recording camera before letting a tear slide down his ruddy cheek, swiping his small tongue over his rouge pout and swallowing hard. "Baby, f-feels--mmf...so good. Looks so pretty..."

With a wet pop, Jungkook withdraws his lips from Jimin's cleaned up toes. His eyes open slowly as he does so, looking up at the overwhelmed man above, shaking with his arousal and inner battle to stay still and receiving the reward. Who the reward is for remains a mystery.

"So greedy... Didn't know you loved having your filthy toes sucked so much." He hums, glancing down at the wet patch of precum staining his underwear, a clear result of just how much he enjoys it as well. "What else do you want?"

Jungkook doesn't look at Jimin while asking, but keeps his attention on the slender legs in front of him. He grabs the model's ankle, uncrossing his legs to spread them wide, scuffing closer between to where he can access and lean his cheek against Jimin's inner thigh, so close but so far away from the aching, pretty cock that's barely covered by the soft lace.

"You're really digging that heel into my leg, baby... Ouch..." He sighs, feeling his length throb with every movement that twists the heel into his flesh. He purposely chose sharp heels, feeling his mixture of bad temper, impatience and lust fill him with every hot breath pushing past his lips. He snakes a hand down between his legs, slipping past the waistband of his boxers to squeeze his cock tightly, staring up at Jimin with doe puppy eyes, rubbing his cheek against the clammy skin of the blonde's thigh. "It hurts, hmm.. Ah.." He closes his eyes again, kissing the skin softly, seemingly gentle-- until his lips curl into a small smile, parting his teeth only to bite down on Jimin's flesh, leaving a possessive mark behind.

Jimin's nails tear away from the upholstery and grasp Jungkook by the roots.

"Sss--ow, fuuck." The fresh mark lays very close to the tattoo on his thigh, still brilliantly colorful with dark shading, like he got it weeks prior. A bruise begins to bloom between the embedded dips where Jungkook's teeth sunk in. It's hot and tender and ignites the rest of his skin to an even coat of blush. Without noticing, Jimin drags his heel down gradually, brought to attention when it clacks onto the floor in front of Jungkook's knelt frame...Tempting…

"Oh, baby. It hurts, huh?" Jimin coos as his fingers naturally soothe the sensitive skin of his lover's scalp. He notices a new hole in Jungkook's pants where his heel punctured through, straight down to the skin. On the fine tip of the heel is a subtle patch of blood where he scraped a little too roughly. "Poor puppy..."

It's a rare occasion to have the photographer in such a submissive state, but he seems to enjoy it more and more once Jimin inflicts a little pain. So that's exactly what the model does, to give back the pleasure and revel in the pristine imagery of his lover on bent knees to please. "Lick it," Jimin says in a quiet voice, bringing his heel to his partner's lips. He clears his throat and states it again, louder and with confidence, wrapping his other leg over Jungkook's shoulder and pulling him closer to the sharp point. "Just like you did my toes, clean this pretty heel."

"Mm? That's what you want..." Jungkook squeezes his cock tighter, blocking the blood flow until he feels his pulse thunder through the swollen tip. He tilts his head to the side slightly, giving Jimin a good view of the way he leans in and opens his mouth wide. His tongue snakes around the sharp heel, scooping up the droplet of his own blood to coat his wet muscle in a thin layer of red. His raised eyebrows serve as a silent question of whether or not he is doing it right... And by the way Jimin's big eyes are quivering as they meet his own, he's more than certain of the answer.

Jungkook hums lowly, a deep moan caught in his throat when he tugs the waistband down to set his cock free from hiding once more, openly massaging his slick length to the way he keeps licking the heel, from the sharpness to the sole, a flattened tongue dragging up like a dog lapping up their favorite meal.

"That's g-good...so good." Any mortal man would go cross eyed from the sinful sight. Jimin is made tougher than most, strong from being with Jungkook, but he's easily bent and broken from the simplest sights. Anything from the younger man melts the model's mind to horny mush--trying on a new pair of Versace shades, or hitting a high score on Overwatch, or sloppily sipping a bananamilk until the container runs dry. This visual, however...is quite complex. The blonde sweats lightly, swallowing tight and combing his fingers through Jungkook's shaggy raven locks, getting lost in the action. He isn't even directly touched, and yet, he feels electric shock waves of pleasure from simply watching Jungkook thumb over his dripping cock head and lap the razor sharp edge of his stiletto.

"Keep touching yourself," he whimpers, gaze hungrily following the younger man's slippery pink tongue slide over the last unsullied strip of heel. "A-and...gah...don't cum." Jimin wrenches his eyes shut and moves his other hand down to touch himself too. His hand grips his needy length tight through the sheer fabric and he bucks upward to chase the friction. In the process, he jolts the heel between his love's lips and gives the plump bottom pout a swift cut. "Shit, puppy, I-I'm..."

Jungkook grunts, flinching slightly from the unexpected. He looks down, seeing as blood drips from his lip to the floor into a growing puddle, deep enough to give a burning sensation in his delicate skin. Deep enough to fuel his various emotions..

"You got too greedy." He mumbles, not bothering to wipe it off as it creates a red string of liquid running down his chin when he looks up at Jimin. His doe eyes fade into the familiar dark stare that the model knows too well. Jungkook could only hold his faux submission for so long, his generosity for the night of giving Jimin the sense of power running out quickly.

"But you just can't control yourself, can you?" Jungkook gets up on his feet, placing his hands on the armrests while towering close over Jimin, face inches away from the mess of a man. "What am I gonna do with such a slut... Getting so excited you can't even sit still in a fuckin' chair." He hisses, swiping up the blood on his lip with his tongue, mixing it with his spit. He grabs Jimin's jaw tightly, forcing his mouth open, tilting his little head back while he hovers over him. "Guess you'll just have to reap what you sow, little whore." He murmurs against Jimin's lips before he parts his own, letting the bloody mixture of his saliva drip into Jimin's lips, seeping into his mouth. He keeps a tight grip on the model, not letting him move or reject the offer the photographer gives him. Kook shimmies out of his pants while he does so, slowly climbing on top to straddle Jimin's lap, caging his small frame onto the chair.

The model nods rapidly, brushing the bloody mixture between their painted lips.

"I'll take it all." A string of Jungkook's red saliva trails between their parted mouths as Jimin arches up and steals a couple desperate kisses. "Anything you want to do t-to me." Whether he believes his own words or not is a big mystery. When he says anything, he forgets just how unpredictable and harsh his love can be when provoked. But in the moment, it feels right, especially when the heat of Jungkook's bare cock is felt so close to where he wants it most.

Jimin reaches his arms around Jungkook's torso, feels the muscles of his back tense and release while he finds his footing. He breathes in through his nose to smell the gentle cologne and musk of the photographer, and the very faint but nostalgic and calming scent of his shampoo. Jimin flicks out his tongue and tastes the rust that lingers atop the lipstick, closes his teary eyes to center himself before the pain takes hold. Perhaps there will be humiliation, or both, simultaneously.

"Anything, huh..." Jungkook looks at Jimin through mischievous eyes. His cock lays heavy against the model's clammy stomach, twitching at the new idea running through his mind. Normally, this is not something he would desire.. But this is a special occasion, and the action would fit the punishment and sate the unusual urges coaxing him to do what he does next. Jungkook leans in to kiss Jimin, keeping one palm on his lover's messy cheek. Jimin's lipstick moistens up, once again staining the photographer's mouth in their hot kiss-- a distraction from the way his other hand snakes behind him when he lifts his hips up, grabbing the elder's aching cock. He doesn't do much to prepare more than spread the slick precum along Jimin's length before guiding the swollen tip to his ass, stopping when he slowly sinks down on it until just the head slips in, drawing a hot gasp to push past his lips.

"Do not move." Jungkook whispers, kissing down the blonde's jaw to his neck, taking a few deep breaths as he sinks down further until Jimin's entire length is buried inside. Kook stays still for merely seconds, not allowing himself to adjust properly before he heaves himself up halfway, only to fall back down. The sound of his plump ass flattening against Jimin's thighs mixes in with the quiet grunts in pain and pleasure coming from him. It isn't his favorite thing to do-- preferably on the giving end, but that doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy feeling Jimin writhe beneath him in various ways. Supposedly, Jungkook remains on the giving end, whether it's his cock or his ass that is the gift.

"Mmh, 's tight... Right?" He settles his hands on Jimin's chest, tilting his head to the side as he sits up straight to watch the man below from his higher view. His hips show less mercy as he gets used to it, finding a slow rhythm, "And your cock isn't even that big..." he shakes his head, feeling the heat on his cheeks in the form of a lustful blush when he finds an angle that brushes his prostate, grinding his ass down to chase that feeling over and over. "Just shows how much of a cockwhore you are for being able to take one as big as mine, ah shit.."

Jimin's sweaty palms clamor over Jungkook's back and move down to grip him hard at the hips. His eyes roll to the back of his head as his small body is engulfed by lean muscle and a hot grip around his cock. "Kookie, you--" This is the last thing he expected to happen--watching helplessly and breathing labored breaths as Jungkook's taut rim rides him rough. The sensation is more than expected, and much more than he remembers. "I can't, baby, it's too...much--fuck--" Nails pierce slicked skin as Jimin thrusts up to chase the hot clenching hole. Each time Jungkook pulls up, he whimpers at the loss and uses his wavering strength to pull him back down with an audible smack. The weight of the photographer is much more than he can bear, but he digs his heel into the ground to hold what little balance he has left, so hard he's sure the pin-point could snap at any moment. "So tight...around my cock...hahhh." Jimin's breaths grow weaker and thinner, gradually winded from the smack, smacking against his reddened thighs. "I--I--" He bites onto Jungkook's arm to hold steady, watching the room wobble in his peripherals. "Might c-cum in--gah!"

"Hah... I t-told you not to move." Jungkook's shaky, strained voice came out as a hiss between breathy gasps every time his ass collided with Jimin's firm thighs. Jimin's series of disobedient actions didn't bother Jungkook as much as they normally would, as this is a special occasion after all-- especially when he willingly put himself in a faux submissive state just to allow Jimin to indulge in a different way for the night. "Now you'll have to deal w-with, iiit-- fuck.." He clenches Jimin's hard cock tight when the latter bites onto his arm, the rush of the pain making him fuck himself rougher on top of the model. "Now you started it, so fuck me harde-er! Don't stop.." Jungkook growls lowly, shamelessly moaning and watching his own cock rub and drool against Jimin's stomach. With one hand firmly on Jimin's chest, the other smoothes up his neck to wrap around it, applying just enough pressure to put his lover in a deeper haze, ensuring that although he's not sure whether or not he's allowed to cum inside, he will have no other choice but to do so-- Jungkook wants him to lose any self control, and fill him up with shame and fear in his eyes of doing something he wasn't permitted to.

The straps of Jimin's bralette slaps off his shoulders once again, the small cups of it sliding around his chest the more his bouncing partner rubs against it. The momentum and chafe of the fabric teases his sensitive buds and makes them stiff, red, and swollen. So he lets the rest of the fabric fall down his body until his chest is bare, dewy with sweat. "Yes--hah ahh...s-sir." His own confirmation tapers to a pathetic whine as his breath weakens. Jungkook's grasp pins him by the neck, into the chair. The only freedom he's granted is the weak thrust of his hips to fuck the younger man from below, which he does to the best of his ability, growing weaker by the second. He won't stop, even if it means he blacks out from exertion, which feels closer than he likes to admit. Jimin pants heavily and digs in his fingertips. "I'll fill up this p-pretty hole." He speaks with delirious lust lacing his tone, just the way he would want to hear it. "Is that what you want, baby? Fuck, you're so t-tight--ahh! Can't wait..."

Jungkook leans in closer, slowing down his harsh thrusts only to replace them with slow, deep grinding. He licks his bloody lower lip, nodding while staring down at Jimin's heavy, zoned out gaze. He's losing it completely, and yet he tries too hard to please and do as told, and it warms the photographer's heart-- and it makes his cock leak profusely with the immense need to cum. So, therefore, he needs Jimin to break so he can finally give back what he's been holding for what feels like hours. "Yeah, fill me up well baby. Cum in me as deep as you possibly fuckin' can." The younger says with his low, lustful tone, still keeping his hold on Jimin's throat without loosening or tightening it. He inches closer to kiss his face, hot breaths huffing to warm his lover's skin with every grunt and moan that leaves his lips when he feels Jimin's hard cock prodding at his prostate with every fluid motion of his hips. "Cum," Jungkook repeats, deliberately clenching down on Jimin's cock, licking his cheek possessively, "Claim me with your filthy cum."

"Anything you want--ah!" Jimin's eyes screw shut as he rocks his thrusts up into Jungkook's wanting hole. "Feel my cock dragging in and out? Feel how n-needy I am to spill every fucking drop inside you?" His mind truly turns to mush, like a fever dream, losing any semblance of here and now. Only indulging in the very millisecond in which his body trembles to feel everything, all at once. "It's all for you, baby." He pontificates his oath with a harsh thrust from below, scraping his nails until the tender flesh of Jungkook's sides, drawing blood in his wake. "Fuck my cock...bounce on i-it...gahh!" The model becomes a shell of himself, as if he's boneless, thrusting his release in labored spurts, into his young love. "Moan for me, Kookie. Tear at this expensive lingerie and tell me I'm the prettiest man that's ever fucked you raw."

Jimin’s sudden and harsh words takes Jungkook by surprise— he expected the elder to fall apart one way of the other when he came inside, but what he didn’t expect was the spark of dominance that laced his voice and transferred to the way he clawed at the youngers skin. “F-fuck, ah— ow, mmhm...” Jungkook bites back his moans, to no avail when his sides are tortured by the models sharp nails, unable to hold back his pathetic whines when he feels his insides become filled with filthy, thick gushes of warm cum. “God, Jimin— J-Jimin, it hurts...” He gasps, letting himself and allowing a glimpse of actual submission to shine through his shivering body. His hands don’t know where to be, so he does as told and grabs the bralette in his fist and tugs, using his strength that’s spurred by pain to rip it off his lovers chest, while the other hand keeps him steady by grasping into the backrest of the chair. “Shit, I didn’t know you could say such things... that’s so hot, baby.” Jungkook huffs when he gathers himself slowly, unmoving while Jimin’s cock pulsates inside of him. He sighs and whines from the painful stretch of taking it without preparation, overestimating himself and yet relishing in the uncomfortable feeling. Jungkook glanced down at his bloody waist when he lifts himself from Jimin’s lap to let the latters length slip out, a splurt of cum seeping out with it. He hums in both delight and disgust, not used to the feeling of being on the receiving end..

“You did well baby.” Jungkook reaches behind him, catching a generous amount of Jimin’s cum to coat two of his fingers before bringing it to his mouth, licking it clean for the elder to see. The coy mischief returns to his gaze, leaning close to press his swollen length against Jimin’s stomach to let him know playtime’s far from over. “My turn. You good?” He places a kiss on Jimin’s scorching lips. “I can fuck you harder than that. Show you how it’s done..”

The photographer's proposition snaps Jimin back into the moment--eyes wide and dark, needing to feel exactly what he's inadvertently promised. As if the mere mention of fucking his needy hole is enough to make the blonde bend in any which way necessary to prove Jungkook's point. "Prove it," Jimin goads, unaware of the power that laces his tone. "I'm tired of being your porcelain doll...make me your filthy whore." The model wriggles from underneath the photographer until he's free from his caging clutch. Once he's able to maneuver solo, he flips himself over and juts out his plump ass, resting his ruddy cheek against the upholstery of the chair.

“Huh... maybe I spoiled you too much.” Jungkook drinks in the view below, standing up on his feet to properly watch the way Jimin arches his back to offer his body willingly— or rather, demanding his body be used like a disposable toy. A shiver ran down his spine as he replayed Jimin’s words over and over. A challenge, that he knows the model is aware that he can beat without even thinking. He must be so lonely, that the mere thought of having his unused hole filled drives him mad with need, and the temporary dominance got to his head. Kook likes it, the power in Jimin’s voice that is so rare when they’re alone.. but more than present when he is working. It’s like he brought home his persona of professionalism, and now Jungkook would get to corrupt this mask as well.

“I’ll make my pretty doll into the filthiest and prettiest of whores. I’m sure of it.” He murmurs while he reaches behind him to slowly drag his fingers in and out of himself, gathering the remainder of Jimin’s release onto his digits. He spreads his lover's cheek to get a good look of his tight rim, pink and unused like a virgin anew. Kook licks his lip, feeling the hardened texture of the dried cut on the skin. He brings his slicked fingers to Jimin’s ass, giving him little to no warnings before slipping his two digits inside, knuckle deep. “I’m just giving it back. It came from your filthy, whorish body.. but you don’t mind. This is where cum really belongs.” He says, loving the sound of his own voice a bit too much. He loves the way Jimin’s hole clamps down on his fingers as he speaks, and the way his hole becomes wet and slick, coating his fingers more and more with his juices with every in and out drag. He curls the pads of his fingers slightly, finding that one spot that he knows drives Jimin mad— especially if the abuser of it is his hefty cock.

"Mm--g-god. Please, yes." The model looks over his shoulder to provoke Jungkook to give him more. This is just the way it needs to be to provoke--to find that spot again, plumping up his full lips with a whiny pout. "Put my cum where it belongs, please, baby." Jimin presses his hips back to match the thrusts, wrenching his eyes shut to chase the high, feeling even hotter knowing the reason his tender hole is stretched so easily is because of his own cum. He rides Jungkook's fingers, nipping his lip and beckoning him closer with small kisses, placed anywhere he can reach. Through it all, he makes sure his back remains arched so his glistening pink entrance is visible. He knows how his partner salivates at the clear sight of his fingers disappearing and reappearing, hugged by his tightening rim, hearing how needy his butterfly is for his touch. "Finger out every bit and put it inside." The messy tear-streaked blonde spreads his legs wider on the chair, leaving as much room as possible for Jungkook to fit. "T-then fuck me full of more."

"I would've asked you to beg for it, but you're already so good at that.. You really are perfect." Jungkook makes his point with a particularly deep thrust with his double digits, twisting and scissoring to ensure that his lover is comfortably gonna be able to take something much bigger than his mere fingers. "Looks like your cum is the perfect lubricant, just feel how easily I got your pretty ass gaping for cock." Jungkook groans audibly to show how much he likes the view when he withdraws his slick fingers, wiping them clean on Jimin's clothed thigh, staining it with cum. "Can't wait for you to see it how I see it. It's so hot, so cute." He adds, spreading Jimin's cheeks with his thumbs before tugging at his hips, bringing him closer to let his heavy cock rest between, gathering the slick. He slowly drags his length up and down, prodding tastefully at Jimin's eager entrance before finally giving in, sinking the swollen head of his cock inside, followed with a quiet gasp from the photographer.

"Shit, even after all of this, you're still so tight..." Jungkook digs his nails into Jimin's hips, grabbing a fistful of the thong into his hands to tug him down to take more of his length inside, pushing past the thickest part of his girth. He watches the way the elder's pink rim is stretched past it's limit and then some, the sweet pink slowly morphing into a blushed red. "Your body drives me mad, baby. Almost lookin' like a woman with these on." He crumples the material in his hand, tightening the fabrics so that it presses against Jimin's spent cock. He gives an experimental thrust forward, and decides to give little time to adjust before he begins to roll his hips forward, slowly but steadily. He will break his butterfly, and making him cum a second time would be the perfect reward.

Pressure builds rapidly in Jimin's abdomen, causing his muscles to twitch and spasm. His walls clench down on Jungkook as he presses in deep, practically forcing his way in, claiming the space he's worked hard to make. Jimin can still feel the phantom stretch of the photographer's fingers as it's quickly replaced with thick, vascular cock. It's almost painful, which is a new sensation for the willing blonde. He's always made sure to breathe through it all, relax his body and mentally prepare for how rough Jungkook may or may not like it at that moment. It's a roll of the dice, and today, anything is possible.

The tight weave of red lace chafes against the model's fair skin as Jungkook thrusts pick up in pace, threatening to tear if tested enough. As much as Jimin loves the feeling of being as pretty as a girl, he doesn't blink an eye when the remaining heel falls to the floor. "S-slower...just...y-yeah, that's--" Jimin's words break into confused pleas, easing into the scene, calming his body enough to receive his partner, inch by inch. "You feel bigger today, Kookie," he gasps, rubbing his cheek into the upholstery of the chair's back and sullying it with his salty tears. He chokes on a quiet sob and presses his hips back to meet a new thrust, "I almost can't t-take it."

"Fuuuuck, say that again." Jungkook growls through his lustful, breathy words. He snaps his hips forward, rougher and buries his cock deeply to be as close as physically possible to his pretty lover. The photographer adores Jimin's choked words, and rarely does anything beat when he cries in pain due to the mere size of his thick length claiming it's space in the model's slick flesh. "Does it hurt?" He says with a noticeable grin that transfers to the tone of his voice. He grinds his hips forward while staying inside, ensuring the jeweled head of his cock is lodged deep inside, throbbing in excitement every time he feels Jimin clench around him with every audible sob. He drags out the moment, using the blonde to warm his cock properly, still grinding deeply inside. His hands greedily roam up and down Jimin's slender back, tracing his fingers on one of his favorite hidden features of his model-- the prominent, yet delicate line where his spine lies beneath his fair skin, moving prettily with every writhing movement of his torso.

"You know how much I love it when you endure pain for me.." He sighs, smoothing his tattooed hands down his lover's thin waist until they settle on his lower back, pushing down to force a stronger arch. "Feel that baby?" Jungkook licks his lips at the sight, intentionally flexing his cock inside to make a point of how impossibly hard he is, rocking his hips back and forth lightly to create the start of a momentum. "I said," He drags his length out further with every stroke, only to plunge it back in harder and harder, "Do you," And harder, "Feel that?"

"Yes...yes, fuck!" Jimin's cries are cut short by the heady penetration. The jolts burn his cheek against the chair, but not enough to distract from the sting of his abused hole.

Sounds of slapping skin rings in the model's ears--the force of Jungkook's pelvis colliding with his plump ass, deafening. "You--You're so big, I--" Jimin presses his ass back into the next deliberate thrust and swallows a yelp, morphing it into a sharp whine. He's incredibly tender from cumming already, full to burst once again. Only this time, there's more pressure built inside, like every ounce of fluid he could possibly possess is begging to be let free. "You'll make me cum too sooon." Jimin wriggles and writhes, but only for a bit, internally reminding himself to be good. Be a good boy for his Kookie. Stay still. Keep calm. Hands lay flat on the blonde's back, littered with faint marks of possession from months before. They scarred as a reminder, marking Jimin, helping him realize his one true place in life is right where he is in this moment--beneath Jeon Jungkook, moaning, whimpering, begging for pain and receiving adoring love and devotion in return. "More," he echos, softly at first, "Harder, fuck me h-harder..."

"You're whining so prettily, baby." Jungkook praises, getting a proper grip of the model's hips to use the strength in his arms to aid the pathetic attempts of Jimin trying to meet his thrusts. The harsh slapping of their skin coming together grows louder when he picks up the pace, indulging hungrily in the elder's hot, tight, insides over and over with his cock. He wishes so badly that he could stay like this forever and repeatedly claim Jimin's body and make him lose his mind. "Asking for more, when your frail body shakes so... Fuck, it only makes me want to hurt you more." He groans when a particularly rough thrust causes Jimin to clench down, his petite body jolting and his muscles quivering while struggling to stay in position-- trying his absolute best to be good. Jungkook's hunger for more grows, and with it, he fucks Jimin harder, digging his fingers into his slim hips to keep him in place, pulling him back on his cock when he's momentarily jolting forward with every forceful thrust. "Remember what I told you earlier? How I want you to scream so loud you cannot make a sound..." The photographer glances over at the camera, knowing it gets a full proper view of Jimin's face pressing against the chair while he can't see it as well from his perspective. He wonders what kind of expressions he's making right now..

He knows he'll be able to rewatch the content later, but he wants to see more..

Jungkook leans forward a bit, still fucking Jimin, heavy audible breaths of his hard labor pushing past his lips while he reaches around Jimin's small torso, lifting him on his knees. He hugs him close, pressing his muscular chest against Jimin's smaller frame, stomach perfectly melting together with the slender slope of Jimin's back. "Maybe I do prefer it if you scream loudly, though..." He buries his nose in Jimin's neck, kissing and biting his tender skin, one hand on his waist and the other smoothing up his stomach until he settles on his chest. The calloused pads of his fingers finds Jimin's nipple, reddened and sensitive due to the previous friction from the lace, making it real easy for him to find the reactions he's looking for when he pinches it hard between his fingers. His hips never cease to fuck generously, adamant to overwhelm every sense in the elder's pretty body.

With each filthy remark from Jungkook, Jimin yelps pleas of encouragement. The rough pinch simply drags it out of him, quick and loud. "M-more...harder! ...just like tha-aaat, shit..." He doesn't need guidance to say what comes next, meaning it with every short breath in his body-- "I'm a failure," he squeaks, "Cumming inside you so quickly, it's just--ahh!" You just f-felt so tight...and it's been so long, I..." Jimin grasps the hand that balances his flat chest and draws it up to grip tight around his neck, helping to push him over the edge--so close, it's almost alarming. Jimin squeaks, "...I'm gonna cum again. Fuck, I might...I don't know...I..." He loses his train of thought, not that there was much of one to begin with. Sobbing of praise and self depreciation are all his muddled mind can compute when he's fucked this well--now adjusted to his lover's large swollen length. "You fuck me too good...much better than I fucked you, I'm so s-sorr--mmmf--AH!"

Jungkook's pierced tip glides against his prostate, rubbing him raw, making his eyes flutter and skin tingle with the peak of his high. This is new. It's not normal. The gradual sensation he longs to feel is much more urgent, nearly bulging his abdomen to let free. "Wait, wait!" His small hand taps on Jungkook's arm to release him, struggling to pull away. His muscles spasm in a quick alert, and he knows all too well what's about to come next. "It's too much, I'll--" Before Jimin can finish his sentence, hot spurts of urine stream down his thighs and soak the chair he straddles. The second it starts to trickle out of his exhausted body, he can't stop it. Thrust after punishing thrust, spurts are fucked out of his shaking form until he's putty in the younger man's arms, quivering out what must be a form of orgasm. His cock pulses as his prostate continues to be abused, and all he can do is cry and whimper from embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I'm s-sorry--hic. Kookie, I couldn't s-stop--hic"

"Are you embarrassed?" He smiles, "Can't even hold it in when getting fucked." Jungkook peeks over Jimin's shoulder to watch his smaller lover's body quiver and squirm, unable to hold in anything when the younger fucks it out of him without mercy. "Always love to make a mess, do you? Then acts so innocent.." He teases, hugging Jimin closer while he squeezes the blonde's throat tighter, leaning his delicate back against his muscular chest to allow Jimin to feel some leverage. He slows down the grinding of his hips when he's fucked out every single drop possible from the model's cock, just pathetically red and throbbing.

"I still didn't cum..." Jungkook sighs, stopping his movements. He keeps himself buried deep, the grip on Jimin's throat moving to his chin to guide their lips to meet in a messy, drooly kiss. He delicately pulls back to crook an eyebrow, internally beaming with pride at how utterly fucked out Jimin looks. "Move onto your back, lay in your own filth." He suddenly commands, letting go of the elder's weak body to let it fall limp onto the chair, letting his length slip out of his stretched gape. Impatient, he's already aiding him when he notices the light struggle and quivering muscles from oversensitivity-- grabbing his hips to help him to flip on his back.

"Humph." Jimin's hiccups weaken once he's on his back, sinking into the tepid pool of urine that seeps out of the cushion. He stares up at the younger man with saucer eyes--adoring stars swirling in his gaze, slowly coming down from his orgasm. The apples of his cheeks blush an endearing shade of pink, even more as the moisture spreads across his back. It's an ever-present reminder of the mess he made, all over Jungkook's studio chair--the one he sits on to do his work, and the one he reclines in to watch Jimin pose during their private shoots.

"It's wet," the model whines, wriggling to find a comfortable spot on the chair. His nose crinkles at the audible squish the fabric makes when he adjusts his posture, saturated in him, possibly ruined and unusable. His blush dissipates just a bit, because this is the state Jungkook longed to see him in. Perhaps the visual of an alluring male model in feminine lingerie was what intrigued the talented photographer. But, just like the mirrored room, everything must come crashing down until only he can build it back up in just the way he likes.

Jimin loops his arms under his knees and exposes his tender hole to his partner, offering himself as a toy to be played with. "Do you like this, Kookie?" He pulls back a bit more, earning a wet squish from the cushion below. "Seeing your butterfly, like this..."

“Good boy." Jungkook praises, nodding in approval while a long, slow swipe of his tongue coats his lips in the glossy shine of his spit. His predatory stare darkens at the mess he's created-- the vision he's been craving finally coming to life. "I love it, you're perfect." The aching, swell sensation of blood pumping through his body is prominent in his cock as he gives himself a few tempting strokes, placing one knee on the edge of the wet cushion and the other keeping leverage on the floor while caging Jimin's body beneath him. He lines up the thick, jeweled head of his cock with the model's gaping entrance with one hand, placing his other palm on Jimin's thigh to dig his fingers into the soft flesh, aiding him in holding his legs back.

"You've done so well tonight, baby.. There's no better look for you than this.. My spoiled, expensive doll.." Jungkook's dark eyes squint as he smiles softly, a contrast compared to the way he drives his hips forward to bury his cock deep once more, welcomed by the stretched, slick flesh that hugs him tightly in the form of muscle clenches. Even when spent, Jimin does what he can to please. "My messy whore." He quickly builds up the momentum, using the full potential of every silky inch of his rigid length as he drags it in and out, harder and harder, until Jimin's petite body once more begins to jolt upwards with each and every powerful thrust. "S-shit, I love your body, I can't get enough of you like this." Jungkook spits out between grunts, thriving in the wet sounds of his cock plunging into the model, along with the squishes of his small body forcibly rubbing against the wet chair.

The photographer grits his teeth, chest heaving with every shallow breath and muscles flexing to fuck into him harder, harder to release every bit of primal desire to use Jimin to chase his impending high. "G-gonna cum soon," Jungkook's hazy eyes never waver from Jimin's face, watching it distort into his favorite expressions, a mixture of pain and pleasure. "Want me to cover your pretty face with it?"

Jimin doesn't have the power to speak, lost in the trance of Jungkook's cock railing into him at a powerful rate. His aching ring of nerves pulsates with sensitivity, so sore and spent that any words spilling from his rouge bitten lips would be desperate pleas to slow down. Positively not an option. It's their anniversary. Today is a special day--the most monumental day in Jimin's life to date, above any major career move or step in the spotlight. A year ago he may have placed himself before the pleasurable and painful touch of the photographer's hands on his flesh, but that part of himself has been far from erased. Now, in this studio, in their little private world, Jimin naturally folds at the simplest suggestion from the young visionary.

"Cum on my face, baby," he whimpers, holding his knees to his chest for stability. He nods rapidly to confirm, it's exactly what he wants. "Paint your whore--fuck. Cover me in you, I n-need it...all over my skin. Record it, up close. Please, pleasee." His voice squeaks, caught off guard by how badly he truly wants this. More than anything, he knows how beautiful the final scene will look--him, covered in tacky red sinful lace, sticking to his small body with cum, sweat, and spit. Smeared with lipstick. Prettied up and ruined for one man only.

Jimin knows exactly what the photographer wants to hear, and it's obvious by the way Jungkook's eyebrows furrow in concentration, gaze burning into the vision beneath him.

"I love it when you beg like that." Jungkook praises yet again, giving the model another punishing thrust before pulling out, leaving the gaping, needy hole empty for tonight. Normally, he would never pass on an opportunity to stuff Jimin full of his cum-- but tonight, his vision took the top priority over any carnal instincts. He had this vision in mind for forever, and it is finally becoming his reality.

"Look at me." Jungkook commands while taking a step back, tugging at Jimin's bicep to pull his spent body to slide down to the floor on his knees in front of him. He hooks the pad of his finger underneath the blonde's chin, tilting his head back to look up. His other hand works his slick length quickly and roughly, ready to burst at any given moment-- he's held it so well, and he knows he will cover his doll's perfect face with everything he's got. It'll be the ultimate visual of his fantasies; Jimin, the picture perfect man in shambles, ruined makeup and covered in various body fluids willingly, merely to serve and keep the photographer satisfied and happy. Maybe even excited for the rewards that come with compliance. "Pretty... So pretty, and all mine, hahh.." Jungkook hisses through labored breaths, clammy chest heaving as he looks down at Jimin's lips, rubbing the jeweled tip of his cock against them, stroking his cock purposefully to make a show out of the way his tattooed hand effortlessly glides thanks to every little ounce of slick fluids his lover provided. "Keep looking at m-me...fuck, I'm gonna--gah, cum." He moans louder to let Jimin know how much he's enjoying this, and the visual from both their perspectives must be otherworldly. Both men are utterly devoted and obsessed with the other.

Just as Jungkook's hip move to fuck into his hand, they stutter when his orgasm hurls over the edge without much of a warning. A drawn out, deep groan rumbles from the back of his throat, and it feels like his eyes would roll to the back of his head if he didn't intentionally keep himself so focused on watching the way thick, hot ropes of cum began to paint the model's delicate features one by one. His hand squeezes his cock, thighs tensing and relaxing between every twitching throb of his orgasm. He spits curses and praise, moans and whines, not stopping until he's made sure Jimin's skin is an entire mess, glazed with his release.

Silken droplets of pearly cum slip down Jimin's cheek and tickle the pert pout of his lips. Slowly, he licks away what he can, peeking open an eye and giving a longing look of devotion. The salty release tingles on the tip of his tongue, which he savors with a low hum. He doesn't need to ask to know how much the photographer enjoys this sight. He knows that from this angle, he's a masterpiece, commemorating a year of servitude in the most filthy way imaginable. The low glow of the recording camera reminds him of his duty, to show off his final look--a far departure from the stunning, sinful vision he admired in the mirror. Heels are scattered on the floor, stained with a light streak of blood. Stockings are torn ragged, and bralette is askew and hanging loose. With no way of truly knowing, Jimin assumes he must look a complete and utter wreck. Still, remnants of lipstick stain him in misplaced splotches, smearing down his lips and onto his chin. The ruddy makeup appears to be even brighter and remarkable under the luminous sheen of cum that slips off his chiseled jaw. Jimin lifts to his knees and palms at Jungkook's thighs to draw him closer. "Come here."

Jungkook mindlessly follows Jimin's quiet order, stepping closer before dropping to his knees in front of him, meeting his hazy eyes on face level. He can't do anything but admire his work as if in a blurry trance, and the boiling adoration in his gaze is evident.

"I'm here, baby." He says quietly, glancing over at the camera. He had gotten his shot, the visuals of everything he'd been hungering for now captured in an eternal digital memory. A sense of pride and content fills his chest as he looks back at Jimin, reaching out to swipe his thumbs underneath his makeup smeared eyes. He takes another longing moment to just look, slowly inching closer until he finds the model's pillowy lips with his own. He kisses him gently once, twice before pulling back.

"You did amazing. I got the perfect shot, and you looked so gorgeous." He rubs Jimin's bruised neck slowly, examining the purple and red marks, "Did you enjoy it a lot? I had this planned for a while.. And it came out even better than I anticipated.."

The blonde closes the distance again to kiss Jungkook tenderly. A shaky hand cups the photographer's face while the other mindlessly holds him at the waist for balance. The room shifts subtly, and Jimin breathes into the motion, tilting his head to follow the natural part of their mouths moving as one.

"Mhm," he hums again, indulging in the comfort and warmth of Jungkook's touch. He needs it after, always, to feel like a precious doll again. Like clockwork, they come together into a slow comedown, feeling their united heartbeat as the tips of their fingers brush against damp skin. "Happy anniversary," Jimin smiles into a sweet and short kiss. The tentative hold on his neck draws the model in more and he allows the younger man to indulge in his creation. He allows it until the warm ropes of cum begin to tack to the round apples of his cheeks, and the slight discomfort of his muscles begin to set in.

"So sticky and wet now, Kookie. Just how you like," Jimin smirks, pleased he could once again fulfill his love's vision. "I may need some help getting out of this though." Jimin hints at the soaked, ruined lingerie that still clings to his torso.

"I'm so happy. Thank you for taking me so well, baby." Jungkook places one last rewarding kiss on Jimin's sticky cheek before he gets up on his feet, bringing his lover up with him to lift him up into his strong arms. He holds him close, walking over to the camera to turn the recording off and heads towards the bathroom. "Let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed, I have another surprise for you." He smiles through his statement, placing Jimin on the toilet seat to wait while he draws a hot bath. He turns to Jimin, reaching behind his torso to unclasp the bralette and discard it on the floor, then resumes to tug at the panties to get them off. Every action of his is tender now, the aftercare more than important to ensure that Jimin is properly rewarded for doing so well and taking every rougher part of him-- so he deserves the affection as well. "Come." He coaxes lowly, undressing properly as well until the tub is filled, and takes Jimin's hand in his to guide him into the water, seating them with Jimin's small frame practically in his lap. A soft sigh pushes past his lips from the relaxing warmth surrounding them. "Wash your face off first, don't want your eyes to get irritated."

Jimin cups the warm bathwater in his hands and stares at the faint shadow of his face cast over it. He pauses a moment, adjusting to the comfort of being supported from behind--feeling small and cared for, then brings the water up to cleanse. The warmth soothes over his soft skin, and after only one splash, he can feel the layers of grime shluff off. His palms tinge a faint red. Lipstick rubs away, followed by other various bodily fluids, some of which need a couple passes before it is completely removed. The work to remove it only makes Jimin appreciate the work Jungkook put into planning such an unexpected night.

"I never get tired of this," Jimin coos, bring another palmful of water up to wash over his face, "Taking baths together...it's one of my favorite things." Baths--such a normal and almost childlike experience. It's something that brings the small model pleasant ripples of nostalgia, like it was only yesterday they first shared the simple experience of cleaning one another. It's centering, to wash away the filth of the day and watch it slide down the drain until it's gone completely. Jimin reclines into the tender embrace of his love and allows him to rub soapy water over his body, moaning gently the cleaner he feels.

"One year," the blonde sighs, closing his eyes, "What would I have done if I never met you?" He tilts his neck to get a good look at the younger man. "Life would be so...boring."

"Indeed." Jungkook agrees, the toothy grin on his face just as childish and endearing as when they first met eye to eye in his studio. He looks back at Jimin with just as much-- if not more admiration swirling in his doe eyes. He cranes his neck to kiss the elder's forehead, gentle hands smoothing over his petite body to rub off tonight's events. "But it was fate." He adds, hands moving up to comb his fingers through the blonde curls after adding his familiar shampoo into his palms, massaging his tender scalp with the comfort of his scent.

"Sooner or later, we would've found each other." A moment of silence follows, all that is heard is Jungkook cleaning Jimin's hair while the latter basks in the aftercare.. until he speaks again. Whether Jimin heard it or not, remains a mystery.

"I would've made sure of it."

© sombreboy 2021. Do not repost, edit or translate.

[freddiemercurydaily]

9 August 1982, Queen performed @ Brendan Byrne Arena, East Rutherford, New Jersey “Hot Space North American Tour”Roger's voice is uncharacteristically hoarse tonight, and he struggles on some of his backing vocals in ‘Somebody To Love.’Towards the end of his vocal exchange with the audience after ‘Save Me,’ Freddie tells them, "I'm gonna make you sing like Aretha Franklin", like he did during Now I'm Here in Milton Keynes a couple months back. But this time he doesn't succeed, as he gives up after only one line. "I knew you were from New Jersey. You had to be. I mean, I've been listening to Gilda Radner. She's right!" Brian starts ‘Get Down Make Love’ (which segues into his solo spot) with his John Birch copy.

 A bit over three minutes into his solo spot he breaks a string, and soon turns off the analog delays, trying to make the best of the situation for a brief while (the other five strings go out of tune when you break a string on an electric guitar with floating tremolo, so one must hold the whammy bar down in a specific place for the guitar to remain in tune - not an easy task!). But he ultimately gives up, and takes the guitar off and hurls it over his stack of Vox cabinets (the one and only time he did this), snapping it in half. Some audience members watch in bewilderment as they have witnessed the normally gentle and soft-spoken May lash out in frustration. Others cheer the 'coolness' factor. A roadie, visible to the audience, picks up a piece of the Birch guitar and holds it up for a brief moment. The beleagured axeman then switches to his Flying V, and he and Roger (barely) finish the segment, not before that guitar, too, goes out of tune. Brian (who hasn't spoken much on stage on this tour since ‘Love Of My Life’ was his usual speaking spot) says a few words after Under Pressure. "People of New Jersey, we seem like good friends. I tell you, we've seen you a lot of times. We've been around quite a while and we've done some strange things here and there. And now and again we've done a song which actually means something, and I think this is one of them. This is a song Freddie wrote for the last album. This is called Life Is Real." Queen performed the ballad only a few times. After the song ends, Freddie asks, "How are we doing with the guitars?" He tells the audience, "I think tonight's the night we're gonna break as many guitars as we've got. If anybody in the audience has a spare guitar, bring it over here!" Someone in the audience replies, "I've got three!" He continues, "OK, we're gonna do a song that requires everybody on their feet, because I mean, you gotta... I know you guys are very cool and laid back, this is a really dirty song. You know, it comes from here." No doubt a crude gestitulation follows. "It's from the c*nt. It's called Fat Bottomed Girls!" Brian lets out a lot of aggression in the last couple minutes of the song, even playing some heavy syncopated lines before the final few bars. It takes a little while for the Red Special to be restrung, so Brian plays his Flying V for a few songs, according to a fan who attended the show (although Brian stated in a January 1983 interview that he acquired the Flying V *because* of this incident - These few songs sound different with this new guitar tone - particularly the ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ solo. He would return with his beloved home-made guitar for the hard rock section of Bohemian Rhapsody, but he wouldn't fully regain his composure for the rest of the evening. A fan wrote to Brian at his Soapbox about this night: "During the show you had problems with The Old Lady and came out with the Birch copy. Then the birch copy had some problems and you threw it and your roadie missed it I think because he held up something that looked like a broken Birch Guitar. You then played a good part of the concert on a Flying V. I remember wishing I had a camera to see you playing on the V. You played Life Is Real while repairs were being done. Freddie even joked if someone had an extra guitar to please bring it up. After the break in BORHAP you came back with the Old Lady." Brian's reply: "You evidently saw a special night ... the only night when I ever threw a guitar off stage in despair ! And, yes, I did hit the ground behind the stage - I'm pretty sure I thought I was throwing to someone, but evidently I misjudged it. And, yes, its neck snapped clean through. I kept it for a while, intending to get it fixed. But we decided it would probably never be good at staying in tune, because it wasn't a very rigid instrument. And not being able to get it in tune was what drove me to distraction that night, and this was what led to its demise! As I remember, this was on top of having problems with the Red Special in the beginning - in the heat of the moment, this was the final straw ! I imagine your bootleg of the show will reveal the problems I was having. These things usually make me feel ashamed, frustrated, angry, in the moment... I don't like giving people less than the best. So this picture really does tell a story ... a unique story. I wonder what happened to the Flying V ... As for the Birch guitar, well, we lent it to Guild, to compare, while they were making their Red specials under license in the 80's. Then we all forgot about it for many years. Then it turned up, and thanks to a friend (I think I told the story here) it now resides back with me. We have decided to keep it as it is, in pieces, just for historical interest, for the same reasons as before." Brian has since reunited with the guitar, apparently after it was purchased on eBay. Its story and a couple pictures of it can be seen at Brian's website. It was repaired by Andrew Guyton, although it wasn't a complete restoration as Brian wanted to see exactly where he broke it.

[jerzwriter]

Chapter 13 - Break My Heart Again

Book: Open Heart 3 (Post Series)

Series: Delaying the Inevitable

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC Tobias Carrick x F!MC

Rating: Chapter: Teen

Summary: In this chapter: Ethan’s demons haunt him and lead him to make a heartbreaking decision.

Category: Extended Series (WIP)

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, alcohol and more angst.

**** PLEASE READ ALL A/N's ** REALLY PLEASE 😊 ****

A/N: I have REALLY warned you about this chapter. IT IS PAINFUL. I cried writing it, I cried editing it and I just cannot bear to edit once more, so excuse any typos or grammatical errors that remain – I’ll deal with them sometime in the future.

A/N 2: There may be a lot of hate for a beloved character here (or a lot hate for a not so beloved writer… me). I’d ask you to refrain from hate for both, realizing that this story is about people struggling with life and relationships while they are coping with baggage and unresolved trauma. People who are broken will continue to cut those around them until they heal, and that is what is happening in this chapter. It does not make the behavior excusable, but good people do bad things for… reasons.

A/N 3: At the end I have links to some AMAZING FLUFF… I’m looking to heal you.

A/N 4: BUT if you want a little more heartbreak, I am sharing this song. I love this song, but it is heart wrenching. I listened to it often when looking for inspiration for this chapter. I feel it can apply to Ethan/Casey as well as Ethan/Louise. But there are two lines in this that just jumped out at me and said Ethan/Casey. It is haunting, but I think it’s worth a listen.

Break My Heart Again - Finneas

A/N 5: THERE IS A LONG STORY AHEAD AND AN EVENTUAL HAPPY ENDING – DON’T LEAVE ME 😊

CHARACTERS BELONG TO PIXELBERRY STUDIOS

If you wish to be added or removed from tags, please let me know. Comments and reblogs always appreciated. 😊

“We have to talk.”

Just four words and twelve letters, but when combined, few words can elicit more anxiety and dread in the human heart.

When Casey heard those four words fall from Ethan’s lips, her breath hitched, and her heart raced, for very little good has ever come of them.

_____________________________________________________

Earlier Today

“I shouldn’t be too late; Sienna and Aurora have to be at work by 7:00. Some of the others may stay longer, but I plan on heading out before dinner time.”

“Don’t feel obligated to leave early,” Ethan replied. “This is the last time you will all be at the apartment together; I want you to enjoy it.”

Enjoy it, in her precarious emotional state? Casey was aiming for get through the night and manage to smile a few times. Enjoy, it seemed like a huge stretch.

“I’d like to get back here and spend some time with you tonight, Ethan. I miss you; I thought we could have dinner together and maybe cuddle a bit if that’s OK with you?”

Is that’s OK with you? When have I ever had to ask Ethan if that’s OK with him?

“Sure. But I still prefer you spend the time with your friends. It’s a special day.”

Casey crossed the room to say goodbye and Ethan leaned over to kiss her forehead.

She waved to him from the apartment door, “I’ll see you soon, Baby.”

_______________

Every time Casey left his apartment, Ethan felt an immediate change in the environment. Before he knew her, he rarely spent time at home; but once she barreled into his life, he quickly found the appeal of cooking dinners side-by-side, watching a movie or two, or snuggling under a blanket next to the fireplace. Casey transformed his place of residence into a home, so it made sense that it always felt a little less bright when she was gone. He once joked that the sun only shone through his windows when she was present. Now, even though the rooms seemed colder and darker without her, somehow, he felt more comfortable and at peace when she left.

He let out a short breath as soon as she locked the door behind her. Walking to the kitchen, he poured himself a drink and decided to bring the bottle back into the living room with him. He made himself comfortable on the lounge chair he purchased for the sole purpose of taking in the magnificent views surrounding him. A small amount of sunlight remained in the sky, but the forecast called for rain, and he watched as the grey clouds slowly rolled in and enveloped the skyline he loved so much.

Ethan never did relationships. Not really. After the unmitigated disaster that was Floria, he refrained from forming any serious connections. Harper was the closest he had come to an exception, but even then, they both knew they were shared was superficial. They were two friends who undoubtedly cared for each other, but it was never the real thing, nor would it ever be, nor did they want it to be. Other than that, his experience was limited to brief flings that typically ended when his partner wanted something more and a handful of one-night stands. Casey broke the mold from the beginning. She was everything he never knew he wanted, yet what his soul craved for. Once he allowed her to permeate his defenses, a new world opened to him, and it was filled with a radiance he never knew existed. But now, as they faced their first true challenge, he was unarmed. He had no idea of how to fix what was broken, and he was too proud to admit it.

Louise abandoning him a second time was a devastating blow to a man who only recently allowed himself to love and be loved in return. Even before she returned, he had deluded himself into believing he had healed from her initial abandonment. But nothing could have been further from the truth. Though he resisted her when she returned, in time the love and acceptance she offered nurtured his soul. It soothed the inner child within him who had never been mended.

Her return, coinciding with the arrival of his soulmate, brought him to a place he never believed in. And, while it frightened him more than he cared to admit, he simply couldn’t get enough. He felt loved, cherished, and safe. Now, with his previous defenses no longer in place, he was forced to cope with another betrayal at the hands of the one woman who is supposed to love him forever. She left again with no more than a piece of paper addressed to Casey left behind. For a man who needed to feel in control, he was left with none.

He could not cope as a nearly 40-year-old man because the traumatized boy he was when she initially left rose to the surface. Sadly, he could not see this for himself, and he was unwilling to hear it from those who loved him.

Deep down, he knew that neither Casey nor Alan was responsible for causing the anguish he felt today. No more than they were responsible for making his final decision to allow Louise back into his life. But he was unable to accept that he made the decision that eventually led to this place of devastation. If he admitted this, he would have to accept that he did not trust his own choices. Hence, he would never be safe, never be protected from desertion, and never be rid of his self-loathing. The great irony is his denial of his own involvement was the very thing that would prevent him from healing.

Before Casey, his world was reduced to scientific formulas; emotions and feelings only served to cloud judgment, and he avoided them at all costs. His romantic liaisons were to satisfy physical needs, never for comfort or to nurture his soul. When he finally surrendered to the beautiful world Casey brought him to, he wanted to soak everything up like a sponge. He had sought to take in every moment he could, but now, he believed it was an illusion that was quickly stolen from him.

Casey. His beautiful, precious Casey. She left a mark on his heart that could never be removed, even if he wanted that more than anything. He loved her and he knew that he was destined to love her until the day he died, but he didn’t want love anymore. Love could only lead to pain, and he knew that he would not withstand one more rejection. Self-preservation became his sole focus.

Three years. He kept her languishing for three years. He had abandoned her during times when she needed him most. Just one week after being tangled in her warm embrace between her sheets, he boarded a plane and headed to a different continent, leaving her to discover the news alongside every other resident as if she meant nothing at all. He later learned how his actions had left her severely damaged. Yet, she forgave him despite the suffering and heartbreak he had bestowed upon her. She waited for him. She loved him. HOW? Was it a strength he could never perceive in himself? Or was it pure insanity on her part? He knew he was no better than Louise, he had a precious gift standing before him, and he had done all that he could to throw her away. Yet, she stayed and did not know if he admired her or pitied her for her loyalty and perseverance.

His Casey. He never deserved her, and he never would. No matter how much she loved him, no matter how much he loved her, his desire to protect himself would always be greater. He knew he would hurt her again; it was only a matter of time. If he loved her, and he loved her immensely, he needed to let her go. She deserved a life and a love he could never provide. To do this, he had to rid himself of this fantasy he had created that told him that this sort of a life was a possibility for him. .

He walked to his bedroom and entered the dressing room. He moved several objects in a remote corner and retrieved a small, mahogany chest that he kept hidden from sight. As he inserted the brass key and opened the lid, he opened a portal to his past that delivered nothing but pain, yet he could never rid himself of it. He sat on the floor peering at its contents: ticket stubs from the circus, a favorite t-shirt from a carnival he visited, a handmade card, photos, several journals. With the exception of the journals, every item was from the time before his mother left him over a quarter-century ago. This part of him was dead, but he could not release it, so he kept it in the darkest corner of his home. He hadn’t opened this box in over a decade, but he felt compelled to do so today.

He stood and moved to the other end of the room opening a drawer, he gazed at a small red leather box. He swallowed painfully as he clutched it in his hand and sat once more. He opened the box stared at the beautiful creation he lovingly selected just months before. After his weekend on the Cape with Casey, he was certain she was the only woman he could ever spend his life with. He still believed that today. There could never be another, she was his only chance, but he needed to face the reality that even with the woman who seemed destined for him and him alone, there could be no future. It was just another fantasy he created.

Casey deserved to wear a ring like this on her finger. She deserved a beautiful, perfect proposal. She deserved a life full of love and adoration with a man who knew her worth and would show it to her every single day. As he watched the facets shine in the dim lighting, he told himself, he could never be that man. So, with glistening eyes, he shut the box and placed it in the chest. He returned the key to its socket and then swiftly returned it to its hidden spot. He wondered if he would ever dare to open it again.

He returned to his chair in the living room and waited. He hoped Casey was having fun and that she would decide to stay later because for every minute that passed until she entered the door to his residence, she was still his. He needed to treasure every last moment. His heart ached when he heard her slip her key into the door, far earlier than expected. She had left early because she wanted to come home and spend time with him. The fucking irony. This was one more cruel joke that the universe was inflicting on him, and by extension, on the woman he would forever love.

He momentarily lost his nerve. As she stood in the vestibule and walked through the living room and dining area, he could not bring himself to speak. When he heard her in the kitchen, preparing a special treat for him, he momentarily considered abandoning his plan. But he knew that would be a mistake.

So he mustered his strength and walked into the kitchen to see her.

“Casey, can you join me inside. We have to talk.”

____________________

While Casey followed him inside, she tried to convince herself that he wanted to speak about a million different topics. Her heart would not allow her to accept what her brain already told her to prepare for. Part of her wanted time to race, get to the point and deal with the aftermath as swiftly as possible. But a bigger part of her wished for time to stop the very second she sat on his couch. If only she could just stay in this moment forever, but she knew she could not. So with a racing heart, clenched jaw, and downcast eyes, she braced herself for Ethan’s words.

“Casey,” he began with a quivering voice, “I did a lot of thinking while you were gone today, and….”

She shut her eyes tightly while he stalled. Out with it, Ethan, out with it, why are you prolonging the agony.

“Casey, I don’t we should move forward with living together right now. Given the state of how things are… I don’t feel comfortable taking the next step with you. I know you’re supposed to move in the day after tomorrow, so the timing is regrettable, but it can’t be helped.”

Casey couldn’t breathe. Her mind could not register that the pain in her chest hadn’t actually been inflicted on her physically. She tried to breathe through it. She didn’t know what to say.

“Ethan… Ethan, my address is already changed, my things are already here, I… I… I don’t have any place else to go.”

“I know. And I hate leaving you in this predicament, Casey. I have given it some thought, and I think you should stay here until you can find a new place. I will move into a hotel until that time.”

Her head was pounding. She didn’t fully believe that her brain was processing what he was saying because he just couldn’t be, could he?

“Are you out of your mind?” She asked incredulously, “Are you fucking out of your mind? You’re telling me you don’t want me anymore, and you think I would want to stay in your apartment, a place we were preparing to call home together, without you? In what world do you think that’s OK, Ethan!”

“Then I’ll pay for to stay someplace until you can….”

“I don’t want your money. I know how to take care of myself. But, Ethan, I want you. Please, please don’t do this.”

Shaking, Casey stood up and began pacing, walking in little circles, and randomly stopping. She didn’t know where to look or what to do. Ethan walked to the edge of the room and leaned on the wall. He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to end things, he had to end things, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it, so he offered her a choice where there was none, knowing that she would have to decide to leave. Who the fuck am I? How the fuck am I doing this to her?

“I… I’m not necessarily saying we’re over,” he felt his constitution wavering. “I am saying that I can’t move forward right now… maybe one day, but not today.”

“Ethan, I’m moving…” she started to cry and she took a few deep breaths before continuing, “I was moving in with you in two days. My God, Ethan! Did you think we’d never face any problems? What if I was already here? Now you’re going to put me out, knowing I have no place to go? And you call this love? Ethan, I have spent three years loving while you pulled me in and built my hopes, only to thrust me away a moment later. I can’t do that anymore. After all this time together, I cannot start backtracking now. You either want me, or you don’t. You can’t have it both ways anymore.”

“Want you? Love you? Yes, Casey, yes to both. But can I be with you?” he stopped and swallowed, “Can I be with you? No. I can’t.”

Casey felt like her body would give way, so she reached for a nearby chair, allowing it to hold her weight. She hung her head, unable to look at him, and began sobbing.

“So, you’re breaking up with me? This isn’t about me moving in or not, you’re leaving me, and you just don’t have the balls to say it………ANSWER ME! ANSWER ME ETHAN! You owe me at least that much!”

“Casey, don’t make this worse….”

“MAKE IT WORSE? MAKE IT WORSE? Can you possibly tell me HOW I can make this worse? Goddamn it Ethan! We could not have been happier! Like a fucking week ago, we were happy and so in love, how could you end it like it meant nothing!”

Ethan wiped a tear from his eye before continuing, “Casey, don’t you see? We were happy because it was a lie. You were happy because you thought you had what you always wanted, but you only had an illusion. I wanted to be it for you Casey, I wanted to be it so much so that I lied to myself and tried to give everything you wanted. But now, I know I can never be the man you need. I don’t want to be that man. I never did. I never should have deluded either of us into believing it could be.”

Casey was now pacing the floor ferociously as she rubbed her pounding head. She was trying to stay calm. Even in this state, she knew she was close to hyperventilating.

This is surreal. This can’t be happening. I must be dreaming. I have to be.

She walked toward Ethan and stood just feet away, glaring into his eyes.

“How can you do this to me? How can you do this to yourself? I’ve stood by your side through everything. When you hurt me, when you denied me, whenever you needed me, I was there. I was always waiting for you. We shared.. we shared something beautiful and, goddamn it, Ethan, we wouldn’t have had any of it if it weren’t for me and now you just want to… dismiss me?”

“You’re right, Casey. You’re right. If it were not for you, none of this would have happened. I would never have opened my heart. I never have let people in. I would have lived the rest of my life safe, avoiding the excruciating pain I feel right now. The life I thought I wanted with you – it’s not sustainable for me, Casey! I should have never exposed myself to it. I should never have given in.”

Bordering on hysteria, Casey wailed, “Are you saying I was a mistake? Are you saying everything that we shared between us was a mistake?”

Ethan threw his hands in the air and fell into a chair in the corner.

“I’m saying it should have never been. You were not a mistake, Casey. You could never be a mistake. You are… you’re the most amazing woman I have ever known, and I love you, and I always will. I am the one to blame. The mistake was mine. I don’t want to hurt you, Casey, but I can’t... I won’t be someone I am not just to please you. And you deserve someone who won’t have to pretend. This has been an excruciating lesson learned.”

Her face was bordering on rage, “I am no more than a lesson learned!!”

“I didn’t say that.”

“YES, you did!”

She walked across the room with her back to him, ferociously running her fingers through her hair. She was trying to form a coherent thought, but it felt like an impossibility.

Casey had never begged anyone for their love of affection in her lifetime, and she hated herself for even considering it now. But she loved Ethan in a way she never knew existed before he entered her life, and she was confident that he loved her just as much; they just needed to get through this trauma. He couldn’t see there was another side. She had to make him see it.

Some things are worth any risk.

She wiped her tears and gathered all the strength within her before she finally spoke.

“Ethan, I want you to think back, Baby, please. Think back to what we have shared. The day you asked me to live with you, when you came home from Mayo, on the beach after Inez’s wedding…” her voice was a desperate plea and her clothes were becoming soaked with her tears. “Ethan, please... please remember. This is only happening because of Louise. Please don’t give her the power to destroy us, to steal your happiness. You know we can make it through this together. There is another side. Ethan, please. I don’t want to beg, but I am begging you….”

She could barely see his figure standing before her through her tears, but from the little she could, she realized her words were having no impact on him. His gaze remained diverted, and an air of detachment surrounded him. Casey felt her heart begin to fracture. She was desperate, and she hated herself for it, but it was beyond her control. With her stomach retching and her body trembling, a weak voice emerged.

“Ethan…please don’t throw me away.”

Her body gave way to the heaving sobs she had been attempting to control. Unable to stand any longer, her legs gave way, but she missed the couch and sunk to the floor.

Ethan turned and watched her shatter into a thousand pieces before his eyes. The image was so excruciating it threatened to crack the stone that was enshrouding his heart. His beautiful Casey, crumpled on the floor, broken, when all she ever wanted to do was love him. Love him unlike anyone else ever before or would again, and this is how he repaid her.

I am a fucking monster.

For a moment, his instincts almost took over. He pictured himself running to her side, holding her, and begging for her forgiveness. But he couldn’t. Casey’s love had made him weak and vulnerable. It opened every wound he had ever endured, and the irony was that for all his medical skills, this was the one thing he could never heal.

Casey was no more than a puddle on the floor, and when he looked at her, he saw himself as a 12-year-old boy. He was hurting her as much as Louise had hurt him. Then Louise returned just to wound him once more. If he tried to repair the damage he had done to their relationship now, he would only be building up Casey’s hopes up to destroy them again in the future. And now , he knew, that the pain was more devastating each time it occurred. He had to let her go, for her sake, as much as his own. If she needed to hate him to make it happen, then that was the price he would have to pay. It was a sentence he deserved.

He moved to the couch, sat behind where she was slumped floor, and gently placed his hand on her shoulder. Desperate for comfort and his touch, Casey spontaneously jumped up into his arms. But unlike every time before, he did not pull her into his warm embrace. This time he reflexively pushed her away, holding her an arm’s length away. Shocked, Casey let out an audible gasp.

He looked into her beautiful blue eyes that had gazed upon him thousands of times before. He had seen them filled with pride, admiration, desire, and, most importantly, love. But as he stared into them now, he saw the embers of hope that had remained until this moment slowly extinguish. He knew this memory would haunt him for the remainder of his life. But he knew what had to be done, and he was about to tell her a horrible lie for what he believed to be her own good.

“Casey,” he said with a hand loosely touching her elbow, “one day, you will look back and be grateful for this moment. But right now, you need to let go, you need to let go because I already have.”

Casey had been inflicted with a thousand wounds since she walked into Ethan’s living room just a half-hour ago. As she slowly bled and faced an excruciating death, she battled on, ignoring the scrapes, the lacerations, and the fracturing of her bones. She fought on like the strong, valiant warrior she was. She believed in their love and its ability to overcome; she was not giving up hope. So, in the face of unbearable pain, she persevered.

But every battle must have a victor and a loser, and in the end, the sword that delivered the fatal blow to her heart came from the lips of the very man who had sworn to protect it. At that moment, she knew that her life as it existed just hours before had slipped away and her only option was to surrender it to the angel of death that had been hovering in the room since she arrived. As strong an opponent as Casey was, she had never been a match.

Without a word, she rose on shaking legs and pulled her jacket off the wall. She turned around in stupor to survey the once sacred ground where love had blossomed, where they had planned their future, and saw it fade to a wasteland before her eyes. Silently she walked toward the door to leave his apartment.

He is going to stop me. He is going to block the door. He is going to tell me to stay. He didn’t.

She walked down the hallway toward the elevator, her feet must have been moving, but she could not feel them. Her swollen, tear-stained face hiding behind a scarf.

He is behind me. He is coming after me. He will stop me from getting on the elevator. He was not. He did not.

She sat on the floor in the hallway and waited, hiding her face in her knees if others passed.

There is no way this is happening. I just have to wait until he comes to his senses. He loves me, he knows he does, he is going to come out any second now. But never did.

Gathering all the strength she did not have, she rose her feet and pushed the elevator button, probably for the last time. This was supposed to be her home, and now she had none. She recalled the time Ethan would teasingly chastise her for continuing to call it his home and not our home, and now those words tormented her.

She could not think more than a minute ahead. She let two elevators pass so she could take an empty one to ride alone. She couldn’t bear to see anyone right now. At least twenty-five minutes had passed since she left his apartment. He had not followed.

Stepping outside and the cold air stung her raw skin. It hurt, burning her eyes and assaulting her lungs. She welcomed it. She wanted the pain on the outside to match the pain within her, even though she didn’t think it was possible. She stood in front of the building’s doorway, not knowing where she should go.

The sky was grey, but not grey enough. The people and cars passing by mocked her. How could they just carry on? How was there music? Why were people laughing? How was everything just going on like normal? Didn’t they know her world had stopped spinning?

She realized she was clutching her phone in her pocket. My phone! He must have called me or text me. I must have missed it. She checked. He didn’t.

She looked up at the sky above and her tears began to flow once more. He was not coming. He threw her away. Sorrow overtook her and she only moved because of the shame she felt from the stares of residents entering and exiting the building. The building that was about to be her home.

She started to walk with no direction, just going wherever her weakened legs took her. She was breathing, but it didn’t feel like the air was reaching her lungs. She walked directly into a young man headed in the opposite direction and whispered a barely audible “I’m sorry” as she continued on her way.

The man realized that she was in distress, and he turned to follow her.

“Miss, are you OK?”

She ignored him and continued walking.

“Miss, please, are you OK? Can you call someone?”

She was forced to stop at the crosswalk. The gentleman noticed the phone in her hands and stepped in front of her.

“Miss, I can’t leave you out on the street like this. It’s not safe. Please call someone to come and get you. Can I have your phone? I will make the call for you if you want.”

I had to find the one fucking good Samaritan in Boston. Doesn’t he know? There is no one to call!

She honed her acting skills and forced herself to pretend she was OK. She knew it was the only way he would leave.

“I… I’m sorry,” she muttered, “I’m … um... I just experienced a loss and… I need to get… home.”

“Can I call you an Uber?”

NO! You can’t!! I don’t have any place to go!!!

“No… I will walk…it’s good for me.”

“OK, at least call a friend… can you do that.”

The light changed. Thank God.

“Yes!” she pulled her phone out and made a show of hitting “Call.” “I’m doing it now. Thank you!”

Who the fuck did I just dial! She looked down. Thank God. It was Bryce. He’s in surgery. She did not want to speak to anyone.

She had been walking mindlessly and she didn’t know where she was. Looking around, she realized that she was nearly in front of Edenbrook. She buried her face in her hands and started crying again. The last thing she wanted was to see anyone from the hospital.

How the fuck did I end up here!

She turned around and began walking in the opposite direction.

Maybe I should call someone. But who? She scrolled through her contacts. Jackie was moving her things tonight, Si and Aurora were on shift. Bryce was in surgery. Tobias has a date. Raf was taking Vovo to her sisters. She knew damn well that any of her friends would have come to her immediately, but she couldn’t bear the thought of facing anyone right now. She felt ashamed, foolish. She wanted to crawl away from the world and be alone, but she was afraid of what would become of her if she did. For one of the first times in her life, she honestly did not know what to do. She was unaware of her own sobs as a toxic combination of fear, desperation, and sorrow enveloped her.

He must have called me by now. There is no way he would not check on me by now. Even if he doesn’t want me, he’ll want to know that I’m OK.

Her hands shook as she took her phone out of her pocket…no new calls, no new messages. The phone fell out of her trembling hand and, as she went to retrieve it, she collided with an older woman.

“Miss, are you OK?”

“Yes,” Casey replied in a voice that somehow managed to be catatonic. “I’m fine.. thank.. can I have..” she pointed to the phone.

“Miss, honey, why don’t I help you get..”

“NO!” Casey wailed, “Please, just .. my phone..” She leaned against the building behind her and slid down until she sat on the ground; she put her face in her hands, sobbing.

“Ma’am, can I just have my phone, please?” she cried.

The kindly woman stood before her, unsure what to do but not willing to leave Casey alone.

As Casey attempted to stand up, she felt the presence of someone approaching them.

A familiar voice yelled out, “Hey, is everything OK here? I’m a doctor, can I hel…Casey? Casey, is that you?”

Casey lifted her heavy head to find Tobias’s hazel eyes staring down at her. At first, she thought it was a mirage, and when she realized it wasn’t, she didn't know if she felt relief or dread well up inside of her.

“Ma’am, thank you for staying. This is a friend of mine. I can take it from here.”

“Miss, is this a friend of yours?” the lady asked.

“Yes, he is.” Casey barely whispered.

She lowered her head. She didn’t want to look Tobias in the eyes.

“Casey, Baby, please calm down.”

He tried to help her stand, but when he realized she couldn’t, he carried her to the steps of a nearby brownstone. He sat in front of her to shelter her from the view of passers-by.

“Casey, what’s wrong? Please tell me.”

She didn’t want to look at him, so she pulled him into a hug, hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

“T. Ethan left me. He left me and, I don’t have any place to go.”

__________________________________________

After Casey left his apartment, Ethan went to his bedroom. and collapsed on the floor He stared blankly at the ceiling for what felt like an eternity. The only reason he eventually stood is because of his need for a stiff drink. It was so overwhelming, he felt as if he would die if he didn’t get it and soon.

When he went to the kitchen, he saw his phone lying on the counter. No calls, no messages. He went to call her, but he stopped. There was no way he could endure leaving her again. He had to just let her go.

He returned to his bedroom with an entire bottle of scotch at his side. He sat on his bed staring into space for over an hour, coming out of his trance only long enough to take an occasional sip of his drink. Overcome with a mix of rage, sorrow, and desperation, he let out a guttural scream, jumping to his feet, he tossed his glass against the wall.

He marched into his dressing room and threw things out of the way to get to the small chest he had sealed away before. He carried it to the living room and sat before a blazing fire. He pulled out an old, worn journal and looked through the pages. Each one contained a message from a young man who wrote to his mother from the time he was twelve until he turned sixteen, his sole form of contact with her. Sometimes the messages were tender, a boy looking to a mother who no longer existed. Sometimes they were angry and filled with hate, admonishing her for her abandonment. Once the flames were strong enough, he ripped the journal page by page, throwing each into the fire with increasing rage, only stopping when there was nothing left.

He moved onto the couch and laid motionless for what seemed like an eternity. He didn’t feel or think a thing. He was too numb for that.

Several hours later, a vision of Casey peacefully staring at him while lying in his bed came to his mind. Then he reflected on the anguished look on her face as she fled the apartment and the pain he had caused her.

He rose to his feet and sat behind his desk. He opened a side drawer and removed a leather-bound notebook, a gift he received from a patient some years ago. Grasping a pen he wrote:

9/28:

Dear Casey,

I am so, so sorry.

Love You, Ethan

He tucked the book away in his desk, knowing he would need it in the days, perhaps the years to come.

(I'm sorry guys...)

FLUFF:

https://liaromancewriter.tumblr.com/post/657203097707429888/rumor-has-it

https://irisofpurple.tumblr.com/post/653143757871513600/mine

https://schnitzelbutterfingers.tumblr.com/post/634806649611239425/an-hiya-there-im-so-sorry-for-not-posting-the

https://jerzwriter.tumblr.com/post/656628905169616896/their-first-two-months-ethan-casey

Permatags: @adiehardfan @barbean @binny1985 @bluerosesbloom @brokenmemoriesblog @charisworld @chemist-ana @codykosuckmytoe @custaroonie @everybodyscreamsposts @izzyourresidentlawyer @jamespotterthefirst @jennieausten @kachrisberry @lady-calypso @liaromancewriter @mjlbwork @mm2305 @phoenixrising308 @schnitzelbutterfingers @secretaryunpaid @shewillreadyou @shygirl4295 @thegreentwin @txemrn @txfledglingscribe @wanderingamongthewildflowers

OH Tags: @alina-yol-ramsey @chaoticchopshopheart @choicesaddict5 @coffeeheartaddict @dorisz @heleus @imma-too-many-fandoms @kat-tia801 @lucy-268 @panda9584 @parisa-kh @queencarb @swiminthegarden @youlookappropriate

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

DTI Ony: @delicialola16-blog @dottie-minerva-mikas @gardeningourmet @katrinegrey @larsterz MORE TAGS IN COMMENTS

[levi-ish]

Little Talks | 5

Pairing: Bartender!Levi X Reader

Genre: [+18] Slice of life, drama, romance, fluff, smut

Words: 3k

Warnings: Alcohol, cheating mentions, drugs, cussing

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Masterlist

“Your taste in tea is shit” Levi scanned through the old teabags you had lingering in your cabinets.

“Sorry if I don’t have enough money to buy those fancy blends you like” you rolled your eyes as you leaned further into the throw pillows you had on top of your old couch.

“Tch.”

You turned around and watched the man tumble around with your mugs and you knew that he hated your unmatching sets, always making small comments about them. He then set for the most common ones you had and brought them to you after quickly making your drinks.

It had been a few weeks since the night when Levi comforted you after your ex-beloved’s visit. You two held hands and pretended that it was nothing while watching random cooking shows, then after you fell asleep he left but not before making you another cup of tea that you woke up to find inside your microwave, sitting there waiting for you.

You thanked him in person two days after and exchanged numbers because he claimed that he didn’t ‘trust’ your building’s security. Even when you told him that Zeke only got up because your concierge knew him.

But now things were better than you could expect. Levi would drive you home almost every night and wait for your ‘ok’ text when you took the elevator, to be sure you were safe and sound. He mostly made you tea at 4AM when the bar was closing and you had no classes the day after, and you two hung around at your apartment quite a lot, watching shitty movies and listening to him complain about how you were doing your laundry all wrong.

Whoever saw you two together would think you were a couple of elderlies married.

“I can’t believe he didn’t like how she plated it” you pointed at the TV, quite angry at the cooking show passing on. “She even put those fancy herbs.”

“It’s shit”

“Everything is ‘shit’ to you” you rolled your eyes.

“Only the things that are shit” Levi replied as he sipped on his tea.

You rolled eyes once more as you felt the shift on the sofa, not noticing his movements if it weren’t for it. Levi held his phone to his eyes and a sheer of light illuminated his strong features, highlighting that glorious jawline and the thin lips you—

What?

Shaking your head, you quickly got rid of those thoughts, adjusting your own position and making your back fall more comfortably on the cushions. Levi let a small sigh and brought the teacup back to his mouth, drinking slowly.

“Hange again?” You asked, giving him the side of your eye as you stirred your own drink.

“Kirstein this time” Levi replied, letting out his signature ‘tch’. “I should’ve been there. Those idiots can’t do their jobs properly without supervision.”

“Hange forcing people to listen to their theories again?”

“No. Jean broke the sink and is trying to blame it on the weather somehow.”

“How…”

“No fucking idea.” Levi put his phone back inside his pocket and drank the last of his tea, sighing after. It was a heavenly vision to see, you weren’t gonna lie.

With a small yawn, you stretched your legs and downed the tea in one gulp, earning a side eye from the man who wasn’t pleased you were appreciating one of his fancy blends. The minty taste lingered on your tongue as you licked your lips, and you could smell the hint of cinnamon wandering in the room, mixing with Levi’s cologne that you so much adored.

“I’m bored” you let out, pouting as you rested your face on the pillow closer to his shoulder.

“You wouldn’t be if you stayed quiet and watched the show.”

“Do you hate me or what” you scoffed, pouting even more.

Levi turned to you, watching your expression and that’s when you noticed how close you were to him. His breath fanned over your face and you swore you could see his lips twitching and him inching closer, clearing your throat, you looked down, completely breaking eye contact.

“Do you really wanna know?” He replied and you pushed him. “At least clean your hands before touching me.”

“You wish I was touching you” you bit your lip and rose your brows teasingly.

He turned to your face once more, eyes dead serious focusing on you and he licked his lips slowly, posture completely changing.

“Maybe.”

He caught you off guard with that comment, making a small shiver go down your spine, but you decided that brushing it off would be better than acknowledging new reasons to make the relationship you two had more uncomfortable. You knew Levi wasn’t very pushy about things and probably would forget about it as soon as you would, without giving it another thought.

Oh well.

“Uh…” you tried to say, licking your lips again after your mouth went full dry “… are you hungry?”

“No” he said, eyes still on you as you tried to get his attention away from you.

“Uhm… then do you wanna do something else or…?”

Levi inched closer now, his nose brushing against yours and breath warming your chin as you rubbed skin together, feeling each other scents and every little movement was big enough to make both bodies swarm under the tension in the room.

“Levi… what…”

But before you could continue, he closed the distance, lips colliding as you felt the dry specs of his chapped skin brushing against yours. Is this really happening? What…? It was, and he was still going, hand now holding your nape to have your face closer to his than before, as if he never wanted to let go. You turned to the side to allow his tongue inside, feeling it dancing with yours in a difficult and shy but intense tango that seemed too familiar but strange at the same time.

It was a sensation you never wanted to end.

But as soon as it started, it stopped; his hand left your neck and went back to his side, and his usually unfazed look now seemed more panicked, as if he was already regretting it.

Please, god, don’t regret it. Please…

“I—”

You were abruptly cut off by him standing from the couch and grabbing his coat by the rack, quickly opening the door and leaving your apartment, leaving you by yourself and with empty lips but a full heart that felt too heavy for your shallow chest.

Things changed since that.

Levi completely disappeared. Hange and Jean would say that he would leave the key to them and only showed up in the mornings to rearrange things the way he liked them but left very quickly each time. He didn’t text and you didn’t try to, knowing it would be useless since we are talking about him, most emotionally unavailable person to exist. You still went to the bar every night, trying to catch him around and maybe clear things up, but failed miserably.

You didn’t regret it, not at all. In fact, you wished it would last longer, even though it was enough material for your mind to wander around the floor full of eggshells that were your memories from that night. You wanted more, you wanted him, and now you weren’t ashamed of admitting it to yourself.

And you were almost giving up seeing him again, if it weren’t for Sasha, who was livid over how he had reacted and insisted on dragging you back to the bar.

So there you were, Mikasa holding one of your arms and Sasha holding the other, both giving you pep talks on how you should go there and confront him. You knew he was working tonight for sure, that’s because Mikasa told you she’d texted him about it before and learned he was taking some weird shifts and closing on weirder times. Annie was busy with her two-year anniversary with Armin, so she couldn’t come, but she did text you to be brave. The way Annie would, I mean, sending a small “punch him” and a smiley face.

“C’mon (y/n), you look hot and he will regret leaving when you show up” Sasha’s grip on your arm tightened as she tried to drag you inside. “Tell her, Mikasa”

“You look hot” the other woman said, and you knew that she wasn’t putting much effort in because it made you uncomfortable, otherwise you’d have been inside already since Mikasa was stronger than you two combined. “Levi’s an idiot.”

“I don’t wanna go” you said, whining as they let go of you for a moment. “He did what he did and I was pretty much rejected. I don’t wanna push harder.”

“What’s even his problem?!” Sasha crossed her arms, her expression turning into a mad one. “Was he always an idiot, Mikasa?”

“He changed a lot since he was left at the altar.”

“What” you and Sasha said in unison, shocked by the new piece of information.

“Did I never mention it?”

“No?” You frowned, coming closer to her face. “What do you mean by ‘left at the altar’?”

“Exactly that.”

“Mikasa” Sasha pushed her lightly.

“I don’t know exactly, I was 15, but he was getting married to this girl and she left him the day of the wedding.” Mikasa said as if it was nothing. “Everyone was there to see, and he was devastated.”

That left you wondering… a lot. Why’d Levi never tell you about that? You two went into some deep discussions at times, talking about stuff that you never dared to share with others, and he did open up a little about some of his things, but this? You thought that would be something to tell someone you would think of kissing. Unless he wasn’t really thinking those things about you, then it would be a whole other topic that you were too much of a coward to consider.

Did anyone else know? You had so many questions and you really wish you had the answers because of the anxiety now growing in the pit of your stomach.

“You didn’t think that was important information to share?” You questioned and Mikasa shook her head.

“Not really.”

“Okay, we are getting in. You can deal with that later” Sasha pushed you through the door and now you couldn’t say anything else because your feet already touched the wooden floor.

It was a full house, everyone was dancing and singing along with the old jukebox and there were girls leaning on the counter flirting with Jean as your eyes wandered. Hange was mixing drinks and Levi was nowhere to see, what made you feel a lot more comfortable being there. Sasha and Mikasa pushed through the crowd and found you a place on the counter, sitting on stools and leaving you to sit in between them, so you did, and the blonde bartender was the first one to notice you there.

“Ah!” He chirped loudly, leaving the girls behind to come to you. “My favorite girl… and company, hi, hello.”

You noticed he was now flirting with Mikasa, but she just ignored his presence.

“Hot wings!” Sasha punched the counter and grabbed you by side shoulder, pointing at the shelves. “And shots, keep them coming, my friend here needs them.”

“I’m sure she does” Jean kept his gaze on Mikasa, trying to be subtle about it as you rolled your eyes at him. “Our short friend has been pretty hard to deal with lately, so without you around I already knew something went down.”

“They kissed” Mikasa let out.

“ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT LEVI?” Screamed Hange from where they were, coming right away and pushing Jean with their hip. “Also, hi, but answer me!”

“They kissed” Mikasa repeated, and you gave up on trying to stop them.

Hange’s hand fell on your shoulder as they approached the group further, inserting the ponytail-head in the middle and readjusting the glasses above their nose, “You and shorty? Are you kidding me?! Tell me everything!”

“I’ll leave you to deal with Hange now” Jean said as they leaned a little more into Mikasa’s side. “So… are you in college?”

She only gave him a side glance and ignored his question, making the man confused.

“Focus!” Hange slammed their fist, now sitting on your side. “You have to tell me about it!”

“Oh gosh, please let me breath!” You rose your hands and they all moved their attention to you, making you feel a little overwhelmed and guilty — they were simply curious creatures. A deep sigh left your mouth as you put your palms back on the wooden surface of the table, opening your eyes slowly. “We kissed… and he left.”

“Without saying anything?” Jean asked and you nodded. “Damn… he ghosted you.”

“He might just be too busy?” Hange suggested and you gave them the harsh glare. “Maybe not?”

“Can anyone bring me—us some wings?” Sasha pleaded, leaning onto the table.

“You two need to talk” Hange added, bumping onto you jokingly. “Kiss and make up.”

“That’s not happening.”

“C’mon, he’s in the back. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”

You just lowered your head and that was enough for them to understand.

“Well, I’ll leave you be” they just gave you a slight nod and stood from the booth. “Good luck.”

You felt some warmth crawl into your belly and smiled at them, following by another glance onto the other two in front of you.

“Mikasa is such an exotic name, where did it come from?” Jean leaned further, trying his best to sound smooth but the girl’s reaction was too bothered to be working.

“We’ll leave you be” Hange said as they grabbed Jean by the nape and dragged him back to the bar.

[…]

Sasha was on her third plate of hot wings when caught the first glance of Levi.

He came from the back for a moment to grab the electric kettle from under the counter, turning around quickly as if he already knew you were around and was avoiding any type of contact. Being treated like a disease like that made you feel angry, it wasn’t like you’d done anything wrong, you just kissed him back — he was the one to initiate it! The nerve of him.

You gulped down the rest of your beer and threw yourself back on the cushions of the booth, earning a look from Mikasa, but she decided to ignore it knowing you were procrastinating the inevitable, now focusing on Sasha who was unbuttoning her pants to eat more.

“Hey, you’re (y/n), right?” Someone approached your table, hands filling the pockets of their letterman jacket and blonde hair neatly sitting on top of his head. A thin goatee painted his chin and a gentle look sat around his clear eyes.

“Yea” you shook your head, looking at his face, frowning slightly. “Sorry, I—”

“It’s fine, we have Latin together” you now recognized him as the boy who sat in front of you and occasionally borrowed a pen.

“Oh! Reiner, right? You want some hot wings?” Sasha was not pleased you offered, but you just ignored her growl.

“No, I’m fine, just came to say ‘hi’” he gave you a small smile. “See you around.”

You reciprocated the smile and watched as he left, and your eyes collided with cold, grey ones across the room, behind the wooden counter as you felt your heart rush again, as if it was the first time once more. Levi had his muscular arms crossed as he stared right into your soul, making cold chills run all over your spine, holding your body to make it stop.

He turned around to leave and as if a lightning had just struck in you, your body involuntarily stood from its place and rushed to the counter, running around it and pushing the backdoor open, revealing an annoyed short man holding a cup of tea.

“What the f—”

And before he could even complete his thoughts, you grabbed the cup and placed it on the table right next to you, all that before pining him roughly against the wall, staring quickly into his eyes, searching for the same flame you could see inside you now burning around grey specs. A small smile grew on your lips and you kissed him hard.

He hesitated though, leaning back quickly as if something had snapped in his mind, making him realize what was really happening there. But before you could react again, he turned you around, pining your hands above your head as he kissed you feverously, the other hand feeling the skin of your hips from under your shirt, making the chills go harder around your bloodstream.

Levi moved positions once more, taking the back of your thighs and sitting you on top of the same table, making the teacup fall to the floor, but he seemed unbothered by it. His tongue now made advances on your mouth, playing with yours in soft movements even when his own lips made harsh movements, combining everything like sugar and cinnamon, and the pine scent of his cologne invaded your clothes that were now too hot for your needy skin.

His hands clenched around the fat of your legs, holding it as if his life depended on it and he started to lower his lips to your neck, giving it open-mouthed kisses that made a small moan fall from your throat. Ashamed, you didn’t realize that your grip on his shoulders was a little too hard and he put a hand from under your chin, holding your face as he stared deeply into your soul. A satisfied scoff fell from his own plump lips and he came back to what he was doing.

That was somewhat a dream, something you had fantasized about too many times to count, and now that it was happening, you refused to pinch yourself in fear of waking up alone. But when his slim fingers rose your skirt to your hips, things felt too real for it to be just your mind playing tricks. Small whimpers escaped your mouth as Levi decided to explore around your navel, playing softly with the hem of the lacy panties you were wearing, and you thanked whatever god was up there for not wearing those comfortable ones you almost wore tonight.

He removed your panties and lowered himself now, a small breath fanned over your naked parts, making you shiver slightly, only to be held still by his own hands. He gave you a small glance before you nodded in consent, and it was all it took for him to devour you in the most amazing ways you had never experienced before.

Levi had experience — you could tell — and the passion he exhaled was enough for you to moan without caring about anything in the world. His fingers joined his tongue and played with your entrance, teasing slowly as his mouth did wonders around your sensitive bud, movements going from harsh hands to slow kisses that left you whimpering, needing everything, anything more from him, legs hooping around his shoulders while trying to make him come closer to your heat.

You whimpered, moaned, cried under his spell, and everything felt 1000x more sensitive against his touch. His fingers entered you and played around all the right places, hitting every beat to the song that played muffled inside the bar, making a small giggle fall from you and he noticed it, now fastening his pace as if he wanted to go back to shutting you up with his own mouth.

Repeatedly he hit your most sensitive spot, licking, and tasting all he could as he did his best to make you cum. It didn’t take long for you to feel the heat pooling around your stomach, throwing your head backwards and fisting his hair between your fingers as you felt his rush against your orgasm, taking everything from you simply with his mouth. You moaned loudly as you rode his face quickly, hips moving without your consent and he pulled your lips apart to clean the remnants of your pleasure, not leaving one spot untouched.

Your chest heaved from the rush as your eyes made contact with grey seas that now leveled with your height, watching you under spells of lust while he sucked slowly from his fingers, tasting every last bit of you, like you were mead for his tastebuds, and you could swear you saw his lips curl a little upwards.

“You surely know how to make a mess” he noted, a ‘tch’ leaving his mouth.

TAGLIST

@zeickv @thirstyforsometea​ @nalu-trashytrash​ @umheyasf​​

[zambie-trashart]

I Don’t Own an IPhone: Wanna Trade? Chapter 2

Masterlist

Previous: “Oh. My. Rao!” Jon screamed in the lobby and his body trembled with panicked breaths as a hand found its way to his shoulder. Jon looked at the person attempting to comfort him and saw a girl with ombre hair, dark skin, and glasses. “Merci?” Jon said confused but sending the girl a grateful smile. Fuck you Murphy’s Law.

.......

Chapter 2: I Just Realized My Boyfriend is a Dick

“I speak english sweetheart, what seems to be the problem?” she asked.

“I think I- no I know I switched phones with someone back in America before getting on the plane and now they have my phone somewhere, probably looking through my messages, my pictures, oh Rao my pictures,” Jon said and another wave of panic spread through the teen and the girl chuckled slightly.

“What scared the poor person is gonna see some package they weren’t expecting?” she asked having the audacity to laugh.

“Yeah, my rich famous boyfriend’s,” Jon said shaking her by the shoulders and her face sombered up.

“Well, let’s see what we can do to get you your phone back, I’m Alya.”

“Jon Kent,” Jon said and Alya’s eyes widened.

“As in like Lois Lane’s son?” Alya asked smiling widely. “As in like dating Damian Wayne Jonathan Kent?” Alya asked smile growing bigger than the Joker’s. “I can see why you need that phone back now.”

“I was supposed to be meeting the owner of the phone’s friends here, you wouldn’t happen to be friends with a girl named Marinette right cause I mean your name is Alya and she mentioned....” Jon started and Alya laughed as a boy came over to join her.

“Nino you’re not going to believe this, Marinette traded phones with that stranger that we’re supposed to show around,” Alya said laughing so hard she was almost crying now and Nino joined in the giggles.

“This isn’t funny as much as I want to trust your friend, she has no idea what kind of stuff is on my phone… she doesn’t even know who I am,” Jon said shaking Alya’s shoulders.

“You know your own phone number right? Why not just call it from the phone as an emergency call, and I do know her password if that’s a problem,” Alya said trying to calm down the panicked teen. “Also I don’t think Mari would be the type to leak those kinds of things,” Alya said nudging Jon who rolled his eyes. There weren’t even any dick picks on his phone, more like mission statements that had the exact time and place he was supposed to meet the heroes and stuff that could totally compromise his identity. He just hoped that Damian put a password on it.

Marinette stared up at the ceiling as the phone next to her kept buzzing. She didn’t want to be rude and look especially since Jon wouldn’t do the same with her phone, at least she hoped not but whoever this was really needed to stop texting. She picked up the phone and the screen opened almost immediately. No password.

From Dami: Beloved have you landed yet? Jon are you ok? Did something happen? I knew this was a bad idea. Let me call my father and I’ll be over there right away. He said I couldn’t go, that we needed space but please text me back so I know you’re ok Jon.

Marinette felt guilty for what she was about to do but if it would soothe the boy of the other end’s nerves about sweet Jon for even a moment, she would do it.

To Dami: Nothing is wrong, I just landed.

Marinette texted back nervously and she shut the phone off feeling dirty for lying to her new friend’s boyfriend. It was wrong, so wrong. Marinette picked up the phone and started scrolling through the pictures app curiously. It couldn’t help to indirectly get to know her new friend through pictures.

From Dami: Good to hear beloved, I was getting worried, get some rest we can talk tomorrow.

Marinette clicked on the text gnawing on her bottom lip. Did Jon seem like the type to say I love you after all this? There were no previous texts so it was obviously a new phone with no backups saved.

To Dami: I’ll do that, love you.

She responded and the text was left on read. “What an asshole,” Marinette said to herself before clicking back on the pictures app a bunch of pictures of a white dog with various people filled most of his camera roll as she scrolled through. Pictures of people who must have been family based on the glasses and familiar face shape took up a bunch too but one picture stood out to her the most. It was a selfie taken by a masked teen pressing his lips up to Superboy’s. She dropped the phone on the ground. “Shit.”

Jon paced against the floors of Alya and Nino’s apartment nervously. 

“Dude calm down, we’ll get this all figured out ok?” Nino said and Jon nodded as Nino called his phone number again with no answer. 

“Oh my Rao that asshole,” Jon said suddenly and Alya looked offended.

“Listen I’m sure Marinette just doesn’t want to answer on a stranger’s phone or she’s asleep, no reason to name call,” Alya said offended.

“Not her, Damian, he must have changed the phone number after it got leaked last week, I was missing my phone then suddenly Damian gets me a new one, it all makes sense now and now I have no idea what the number is,” Jon said burying his head in his hands. “That also means that my old one is in Marinette’s but that won’t help either,” Jon said slumping, pushing the Iphone across the table roughly.

“Wait did you say boyfriend?” Nino asked after a moment.

“Is that a problem here, Marinette seemed ok with it and so did Alya so,” Jon started looking panicked not wanting to lose one of the two people who could help him through this hectic circumstance.

“No not at all, it’s just Mari and Adrien have been off their game lately, maybe you could pretend to text Adrien as Marinette but you know flirtier a you style, you guys are a lot alike,” Nino suggested and Alya smirked.

“More like twins, but he’s got a point, I’m sure Marinette would do the same in your situation,” Alya said and Jon picked up the phone seeing a text from a weird name: Chaton.

“Who the hell is Chaton?” Jon asked and Alya looked at Nino and panicked. 

“Um, Marinette thinks our resident hero Chat Noir looks a little like Adrien it’s just a joke they have going on,” Alya said and Jon shrugged before remembering.

“You guys have heroes here, I forgot about that, do they like patrol or something it might be nice to get a glimpse of them,” Jon said attempting to get the information that was supposed to be on his phone from the Parisians.

“Yeah, they’re normally out at night and thanks to the time change you might just be able to see them at some point,” Nino said smiling.

Jon looked back down at the phone smiling. Perfect.

From Chaton: I’ll miss you tonight, good luck in Gotham.  I’m also sorry about earlier, I should have been nicer to you about the whole leaving thing. Dad’s just been getting worse lately, he never has any time left. Not like he ever did before though.

Jon had no idea how to react. Nino looked uncomfortable reading over his shoulder and Alya sighed.

To Chaton: It’s ok, I forgive you, I’m a bit tired after the flight, I’ll text you tomorrow though, I love you.

Jon hit send and got hit with a read. Jerk.

Nino put a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s take you to your hotel and get you settled it,” Nino said and they left the comfort of the apartment. All Jon could think about was how bad he felt for poor Marinette.

taglist (open)

@jumpingjoy82 @liquid-luck-00 @megaafangirl @zorua-adorable @dreamykitty25 @pinkittwice @ghostdragonfang @ramos123 @redbullgivescaswings @jayjayspixiepop @sekhmet5 @blur-of-colours @roseisred  @nightlychaotic @ladybug-182 @novaloptr @prettylittlebutterflie @hammalammadamdam @niknak-3​ @certainmuffinbagelcalzone ​