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esorxy · 9 months ago

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remembering all the insanely long marauders fics ive brainrotted over because i kinda forgot all of them. roughly in the order i read them.

Whatever happened to the young, young lovers?

355k, jegulus wolfstar rosekiller. post war (ended by regulus) where they just hang around grimmauld place all day. i literally cant remember anything that happened. but i liked how they stayed home and didnt go outside, because i relate to that. it was alternating chapters between post war and pre war, honestly i dont even know it was just so much relationship angst and regulus being incredibly competent and hurt.

All The Young Dudes

526k, the character development and buildup, its like the level of the actual series without the annual voldemort attack. i was DESTROYED by the ending, it lived in my brain rent free for like a week. why did it have to be canon compliant???! the way they spent so much time pining, so much time apart, and so little time together. but that theyre literal soulmates, which is so sad for grant (he suffered true emotional damage) lmfao. I guess this is the basis (canon??) of marauders era

we can be heroes, for ever and ever

102k alternate happy ending to atyd - yes PLEASE this is what i needed to heal the pain after reading atyd.

choices

624k. lowkey feel the same way towards this as atyd, except it didnt live in my brain rent free for a week. in that i respect that it's good and got heartbroken when everyone died and they didn't get their happy ending, but it did get me into jegulus so I'm not complaining. IDK it's just sad, but i love regulus and evan and cerci. even though i deadass can't remember anything else.

crimson rivers

865k actually SOBBING this fic is everything. so much plot and so much hurt, it is amazing and painful and intense. it has the most picturesque scenes, beautiful happy ending. but i did kinda get sick of it near the end cos its so fuckin long, and i was not into the girls in the fic so i was kinda cbs

holding onto the self

76k and it was so good i felt so sad for sirius. this is the type of fic which makes me jaw drop and suck in breath like poor baby honestly. no summary needed cos ill never forget what its about lmfao....

just lovers

321k fake dating au. this is GREAT. its so light hearted which is a great change from the akckdjebakzj. this is the climb to the top for regulus being my favourite character. lowkey can't remember shit but i liked it and i need more fics like it because it was creative and there's not much room for that in marauders verse

only the brave

645k and The fic of my dreams. this is everything and i loved every second of it. every character is so great, and it got me into pandalily!!! perfect amount of hurt (a lot), and such good plot. it has every ship i like, i was like drowning in a hot spring of happiness while reading this

ecliptic

147k, oh it's so creative and new. it was so suspenseful cos we got 0 answers, and the fic is deadass incomplete wtf!! i love how everyone is sad but mostly rational. the jegulus was really really nice, and i liked how the cruciatus was made out to be a big deal so the hurt/comfort is better. i feel like the plot is better than the delivery

wolfstar my one true pair, jegulus my second true pair, evan®ulus has a special place in my heart, marauders fanfiction a permanent space in my mind for at least the next few weeks

new edit: shit! i forgot to update and i read so many more long fics and can barely remember them now

mastermind

311k i cant even remember anything that happened ... except i liked the dynamic between narcissa and regulus, and narcissa is so damn pretty. this was the one where regulus made james and sirius go with him to the cave, and then james had to force him to drink the potion, so much angst arghhhh.

all along there was some invisible string (tying you to me)

103k spiderman AU + high school and all i can say that its an original setting... the pining was great, and the spiderman kiss!! but other than that like it was good, i guess

I adored you madly, extravagantly, absurdly

243k Victorian AU with arranged marriage trans regulus. I loved regulus' character, he was so spiteful and petty but also down bad, and jegulus matched so perfectly together. i want his life so bad because his literal job was being married, like deadass he didnt do shit all day except read, play with his cats and pine for his husband...

a violent kind of spin

212k not going to lie, my favourite/most striking parts of this fic were the $h scenes... and i just finished it last night so I dont even have an excuse. james asking sirius to turn around and not even waiting for him to do it??? oml hes unhinged and it was so well written. the bathtub scene when he was on a timer and then just walked out like everything was fine!!! help it was so angsty im in love. i feel like i speedran this fic and didnt read it properly, which is probably accurate

Im not gonna teach him how to dance with you

122k. rosekiller is the BEST. i love the whole plot tbh and it was so well paced. love that for evan because nobody else is gonna keep by with barty's crazy. i would have liked it more if it had crack undertones but yknow whatever, cant have everything. i thoroughly enjoyed all the romantic tension in the leadup, the way they were both so in love im gone.

All the young dudes - Sirius' Perspective

628k, let me tell you, canon has no right being that sad, and the beloved author just fed off that like a parasite. i should have expected how this fanfic would destroy me, but the delivery made it so much more painful. i sobbed reading the Halloween and Azkaban chapters. and sirius,,, like why did you have to be so angry all the time. and so obsessed with remus from day 1. it was great. although like halfway through i just felt like ... wolfstar is so basic. jegulus once jegulus forever i guess.

whatever our souls are made of

157k hanahaki where we really gotta work for the happy ending. OML it was so beautifully sad. reggie 💔💔. sirius said nobody on the earth deserves his baby brother, but if he had to pick someone, it would be James 😭😭 I'm a broken man

oml i havent updated in 2 months... its ok i didnt read that much cos i was too tired with uni and work. anyway i found all my fics through tiktok, tumblr, or thru the author cos this gold mine is too big sorry chief. which is like. someone recommended this following fic :skull:

I'm not okay (I solemnly swear)

107k and unfinished :000 cant believe it i read something unfinished but when i read the tags i was like ok yeah im in. my secret is that i read fics like these!!! and most of them are not well written but this one is. and so was that other one about sirius but it was only like 78k so i didnt write it up. anyway poor reggie is going through it, and idk if its ever getting finished cos the poor author might be going through it too. additional note: idk if this is the one but bestie has so many problems like get help fr.

the veil of secrecy

100k but its unfinished and let me tell nobody i was devastated. omg it was so sad so the summary is after reggie defected voldymouldy found out and like --- got all his remaining horcruxes and stuffed them inside his chest and abdominal cavity in some crazy ass surgery. and then he sewed his mouth shut and broke his fingers and kept him around him like some porcelain doll/pet and thats the punishment????? oml how do u think of that... anyway so he dissociates into his fabric walls of occlumency so voldy doesnt know where the locket is. ok whatever they escape and he falls in love with jamie idk. its unfinished.

to the boy who...

238k its similar to the previous one (written by the same author ibbsterkisster) and i found it to read to cope with the first one not being finished. yes this is like 3x as long sighs we all know how it is. anyway its similar except reggie is like his boy toy instead... which is even worse. anyway i cant remember anything about the jegulus but i DO remember that evan was so sweet (as he is) he like stroked the bruise on reggies wrist very gently :facepalm: and that scene lives rent free in my brain.

blood on my shirt, heart in my hand

22k and id just like to say, this is the kind of horror that i like. its kinda a mystery at first but its not so creepy, and the jegulus endgame is stronger than a bulletproof vest. so james is having dreams which are vaguely murderous, and when he wakes up the events like kinda match up. turns out hes like having some repetitive dissociative episode every night at 12.37am and getting up to murder people. and after the first time reggie was just like 'well if ur in then im in too' and straight up helps him murder people ?!? i loved it. murder husbands.

the long game

250k and this is the most unique fic youll get here. modern high school au where reggie is like this god genius talented painter and they work on a musical set together, and reggie gets an art show and idk why this stood out to me but he drew like a green soft and a purple cushion and was like... this represents me and evan, cos were ok separately but great together. i read this so long ago i cant even remember what i thought of it

jealousy, jealousy

85k + unfinished again!! anyway so bartylus fake date so james and evan can get jealous and then they both end up together. i just remember it was so cute because they would just hug each other like constantly all the time, and cry at the smallest inconvenience, then their friend/boyfriend would go and lie with them in bed and hug them and that was like a very significant portion of it. and im not even complaining this is the type of physical affection they deserve

pathological people pleaser

114k but it passed so fast?!?! james is so fuckin unstable man like get a therapist. ok i actually enjoyed this so much because for some reason i was really into horror (it was literally 2 days ago) and this wasnt horror but they did not reveal like why james was so fucked, and which parts of his narration were unreliable until quite a bit in. also there was more than a month gap between me bookmarking this one and the last one and like i dont even know what i did with myself??? (actually i lied i read more fanfiction i just forgot i did cos i forgot to bookmark it) (summary: summer holiday where starchaser fall in love also effie died in a car crash on the way to james after he called and was like mom im gonna kms. ok but it was really well written and full of suspense)

anti-hero

237k and i just finished it so its fresh in my mind (for once) ok now that i think about it i have no idea why regulus lived that first time... maybe i didnt read closely enough but like when fics are that long i kinda just miss some stuff or forget it and they all blur together anyway. ok so firstly i want a story of james and regulus in this universe when they were still at hogwarts because like having a secret relationship for 2 years and also doing drugs.. just the hurt comfort ahhh maybe without all the hurt and yelling but whatever. cant have it all. anyway this was so well written i always like narcissa tbh. glad james and regulus sorted out their shit eventually even though it took so. fucking. long. anyway yikes (summary: reggie lives after the cave and they go horcrux hunting and kill voldy but then reggie fucks off to america and becomes a drug addict again but comes back, and james has anger issues but only when it comes to regulus anyway they kept hurting each other that i didnt even feel sad anymore when it happened) addition: oml reggie being an addict + nic in beautiful boy the stars aligned finally i get some visual scenes in this fandom

doing a word count sum of the above and its: 6 million and 476 thousand...

meetings that start in the dark

656k and oml i was SEMI HOOKED. honestly like why did it take them so fucking long to get back together like the moment Voldemort dropped dead James should have been unable to stay away from regulus. anyway love how they're obsessed with each other, love how Luna and Harry are playing matchmaker. and i especially love how Sirius was the lame embarrassing parent ahah. also the amount of bs evan has to put up with from reg and barty... jesus christ i loved them in this except for how he was buff girl no evan is a twink and this fic wont change my mind

sometimes, running away does solve all your problems

15k so reggie literally walks out of his house and his parents dont even notice and he runs away and meets james and they live together it was perfect omfg i loved it so so so much. it had the same sad, resigned tone as the dsmp fics that i was obsessed with before and would reread over and over. and the small village quiet life is a dream

27 club

27k and why was it so heavy oml like i didn't sign up for this sadness. ok so reggie is DEAD but before that he and James were like lovers and drug buddies but also lacked healthy communication. james is like bye imma get clean without u, the literal love of my life. the whole thing was so sad because it would be like one bit of 'oh and they were in love and making music' and then another bit of 'james was mourning so hard he couldnt get out of bed'. it was lowkey magical to read except for how hes dead.

you missed my heart

100k and omfg im in shock tbh. like what the actual fuck. I'm in shock in an "im unsettled and creeped out" way. i don't even know why because ive read serial killer jegulus fics before and it was all peachy, but maybe this one was so creepy because we were in the dark, and the killing isn't unrealistic and romanticised. James was so smitten with regulus too I'm crying i was actually convinced that reggie wasn't the killer. i need soft regulus fluff to cope with this. to erase the image of reggie being a psychopath. omg Sirius after finding out the truth.. poor boy was like catatonic. I'm never reading unhappy ending fics again I've become weak my heart can't take it

I'm going to start including the shorter fanfics that i read and are memorable as well because i don't discriminate

which means i have a lot of catching up to do

the moment and the sound

29k so james runs away with harry to escape voldemort and meets reggie by chance. they live together and james is like straight up depressed. i liked this fic but also forgot what it was like.

raise hell

30k it's basically about them being angels and demons and working together to idk stop the world from ending. i liked the tone of the fic in that everyone was like set in their ways and was like wtf at everyone else but also i wish it was longer and there was more about each person's like representation like Sirius being the angel of justice. also it was so funny regulus the angel of diligence and James the demon of lust.

blackpool

63k and omg it was so well written but i was so confused the whole time cos i have no literary ability. like regulus being a straight up unreliable narrator?!?! deadass in shock half the time reading this tbh

calm before the storm

51k and i could draw a graph of the shock factor of this fic and it would look like a staircase with 3 steps. at the start it was so happy and cute and i was like omg why did i click on this again and then sirius dies and james loses his memory and reggie is like fucked up that's the first step up and then they heal whatever but then reggie straight up starts murdering people and making a show out of it i read it all like 😳😳. unhinged fr, and also everyone tried to kts at least once like besties go see a therapist please

pink lemonade

121k band tour au where they sing (i think mostly) arctic monkeys songs and kudos because the lyrics all fit so well to whatever clown ass miscommunication situation jegulus have going on. it was relationship angst and maybe i would have enjoyed it more if i read it earlier but rn i need action and thrill. i was like to my irl friend like miscommunication angst isn't enough for me anymore i need murder and she was like girl wtf.

youngblood

75k basically jegulus were roommates in juvenile detection and they had such a deep soul connection in the 2 months and then never reconnected until like 9 years later. ok anyway my favourite part was James and how he was so unhinged. like literally provoking bullies so they hurt him is his form of sh... girl get a grip honestly but also respect for the idgaf factor

mercy

36k so james gets possessed by a ??demon called mercy and reg is an exorcist... so its very obvious what drew me into this. anyway james lives at regs house while hes figuring out what the fuck is wrong with him and they just ??? fall in love. ok slow burn was not really burning at all more like a ticking bomb but the horror was cute. also i found it at night and then read it all at like 8-9am in the morning before getting out of bed so i cant remember it but it was well written and the demon was lowkey cute too he was just out for drama which i can relate

#marauders fic recs #wolfstar fic rec #jegulus fic recs #marauders ao3 #jegulus fanfiction #wolfstar fanfiction

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ofmdee · 3 months ago

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MAN i am so close to getting the next part of BU written, im like at the very end of the chapter but im having a hard time wrapping it up, i think because i Know that means then i have to do the pictures 😂

the chapter kinda started off as a freewriting thing, a pwp i wasn't planning on sharing, but then i realized it Could actually be a good filler chapter, and once that happened i was like oh i can't write anymore 😅

but i added a few plotty things, including a conversation i wanted ed and stede to have re: ed's transmogrification which i think is important, and ed giving stede a pearl he finds. he's bringing stede little trinkets like a kitty bringing gifts. mermaids are just big cats 2 me.

and then stede starts calling ed his pearl, etc etc

i WANT TO want to write, i want to keep creating this fic, i love it so much, it's my passion project etc, but i am just having such a hard time with it lately! i am rly trying to follow this advice and be gentle w myself and not push it, but it's hard! i worry that by the time i Really feel like doing it again, anyone who was interested will have moved on. i compare myself to other ppl too often, and i feel like holy shit ive been working on this for over 2 years, i should have SO MUCH more to show for the amount of time i put into it 💀

and then ofc i always doubt myself, like this isn't good, ppl are just reading it because they are my friends/feel sorry for me, the sims stuff is Cringe and im so amateur and embarrassing and everything i do sucks!!!

but also ive been rereading the fic during downtime at work, just to try and get a feel for it again, and im like oh, this is actually NOT awful? and it's making me like hmmmmm maybe i WILL get back into this....... i really do love it. i love reading it. and that's so important, i think. i like what i create, even tho i am also convinced no one else will. idk when my self confidence fuckin TANKED man but i think so little of myself and i hate that! i wanna think im the shit. or at least okay.

anyway idk what im even talking abt anymore, lmfao, just. fic stuff!!! being obsessive abt stuff. fandom stuff! i'm thinking abt taking an edible later and then trying to churn out the rest of the chapter so i at least have the framework to edit but idk, i rly AM also trying not to force it. i have ts4 open still from making my new icon/header and im like hmmm i could load my photoshoot save and start working on the pics.... but idk.

i HAVE gotten really into diamond painting over the past month or so, tho, and i think having another hobby, one that isn't tied to the internet in general, is rly helping me balance some things a bit more. here are a few pics of things ive made:

ive even ordered a custom ofmd kit, using one of ann's edits as the picture, im soooooo excited for it to arrive!!! ive been rly obsessive abt this since i started, but it's rly relaxing? it makes my mind go (white noise static sound) and rly helps me forget abt being anxious. but then i can also end up getting anxious about doing it Too Much, but that's a whole other can of worms re childhood trauma etc etc w/e

this turned into kinda a life update post lmfao, i just wanted to untangle some fic thoughts but it got away from me. oh well! idk thanks if u read this and thanks if u read my fic, i promise i haven't forgotten abt it 🧜‍♂️

#xoxod #dees diamond tag

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druidgroves · 1 year ago

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Edit 04/16/2024:

Putting all this here because I don't feel like making a whole post for this by itself & would rather have it somewhere that those who are actually looking for it can easily find it!

I've been hemming & hawwing about rewriting BLP for months now (if you've followed me through my bitching I commend you) & finally decided that in order for me to be truly proud & invested in what I was working on, I needed to refocus on a lot of things.

First, I haven't really written any new content for BLP in...months. I've just been trying to rework what I had and getting increasingly unhappy with it because I felt that since I had dedicated so much time to these ideas, they should be used. This lead me to realize that the entire fic needed reworking in small and major ways. I definitely see myself using a lot of what I've written here for the rewrite, just recontextualizing it and connecting it in more substantial ways to the major themes I want to hit on. Which was another issue.

I thought I had a major theme/throughline for the fic. I did not. Or rather, I did and it got very, very clumsy. Part of this comes from the fact that I did the bare minimum outlining because I was so excited to write & share what I was making. Things sort of started to get away from me & I was treating each chapter sort of as a one shot in itself so they were all sort of disconnected in a way that I was never happy with but felt too far into to do anything about. The clumsy handling of supposed major themes also came from what I identified as my main issue: I wasn't writing the fic I wanted to be writing.

In recent months I realized I was holding back. There were certain scenes, kinds of relationships, and graphic/violent themes I wanted to write about that I was scared about being received poorly despite the setting of Fallout being host to all sorts of dark & taboo things. Because of this I would shoot down my ideas as I was writing & subsequently became displeased with what I was making because I wasn't really getting to the crux of what I really wanted to write. Like ghosting around it in a way that coming back to the fic now, basically a whole year later, did not jive with me.

There's also the matter of Georgia developing a lot more in my head than what I was writing down. It's like every time I would strike out an old idea I could feel her over my shoulder in a "you're butchering me, you're butchering my character arc!" way lmfao. Writing BLP has taught me a lot about my own OC, which is kind of wild. This was Proto-Georgia. Pilot Georgia. First Draft Georgia.

Despite it all though, BLP has helped me a lot in terms of writing improvement! It's also helped me find lots of cool people in the fandom with amazing OCs and fics of their own. So for that, I probably won't delete this version of BLP for now, if only so it serves as a reminder of where I started!

I thank everyone who read, reblogged, commented, & kudos'd my fic. It truly means the world to me that literally anyone was interested in my silly little oc & my take on her silly little merc. Mwah <3 Off to the rewrite!

Fandom: Fallout 4 Ship: Female Sole Survivor/RJ MacCready Characters: Canon Divergent Sole Survivor, RJ MacCready, Preston Garvey, Piper Wright, Nick Valentine, Original Characters List of Triggers: Self-harm, unhealthy coping mechanisms, unhealthy/abusive relationships, mentions of child death, (to be updated as they appear)

Summary: Georgia Tate has always had a plan. She planned to be a teacher, eventually a wife, and perhaps a mother. In the 2070s, she has a pretty good idea of how her life should turn out. But after she's thrust into a future where her old world ideals don't make sense anymore, she's determined to make the best of it. She's willing to fight for a safer world for her missing son to live in, once she finds him. RJ MacCready has always known what life is like in the wasteland. He knew just what it was like to be a leader, a mercenary, a father. To be a leader, you had to be tough, to be a mercenary, you had to be quick, and to be a father, you had to be there. So when a woman walks into the Third Rail calling herself the new General of the Minutemen with more caps than sense, MacCready thinks he might actually be able to pull of the job that brought him to the Commonwealth in the first place. What neither of them are prepared for is the Commonwealth getting turned upside down with Georgia at the epicenter, much less for making sense of the feelings steadily growing between them. But even with Georgia's boundless optimism and MacCready's endless realism, best laid plans can often go awry...

Table of Contents

Chapter One: Maybe I'll Say Maybe (Rewritten 01/20/2024; original)

Chapter Two: Crawl Out Through the Fallout

Chapter Three: Hit the Road, Jack

Chapter Four: Accentuate the Positive

Chapter Five: Dear Hearts and Gentle People

Chapter Six: I've Got a Feeling I'm Falling

Chapter Seven: Dream a Little Dream of Me

Chapter Eight: Rhythm of the Rain

Chapter Nine: I Get Along Without You Very Well

Chapter Ten: So Much to Do and So Little Time

Chapter Eleven: Just In Time

Chapter Twelve: Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall

Chapter Thirteen: It's All in the Game

#blp table of contents

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julietsbb · 11 days ago

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Hey, I’ve been rereading your vampire au while waiting for updates and I gotta ask- when all your writing is done, would you consider a pondPOV version?

Like I’m on chapter 8 where they first try less numbing on the bed and his headspace is all I can think of. Now that I have the context that pond found the biting arousing, was he worried phuwin would find out and that’s why he asked to sit with his back turned? Was he nervous that phuwin would notice he was turned on or even hard when he bit down? Or did it excite him to know phuwin could potentially find out? Or was this when he first connected the biting to something beyond feeling pleasant and helpful? And all the trust he had to have in order to still try.

I have so many thoughts and questions!!!

-an overthinking anon ❤️

hi overthinking anon! hope you have enjoyed your rereading ❤

I am sad to report that I am in fact extremely unlikely to do pond pov for this story or as a companion piece after I finish. but like, i also never in my life thought i would EVER write an approaching novel length WiP fic, SO, never say never I guess 😅 no current plans for it, for sure (i'm still not even sure how to finish this fic, let alone anything else lmfao)

aaaahhh, yes, that scene 😌 that was certainly, kind of, -ish, an element (possibly subconsciously) of why Pond requested that specific position, indeed 😁 I love that rereading has started your brain working like this, it feels like an accomplishment ❤🤭 I cannot even tell you when pond first had his 'oh' moment regarding this doing something more for him, so to speak, but I think that scene may have been the beginning of it, possibly. I'd have to do some rereading and some thinking to provide an answer to that 😂

thanks for stopping by my inbox to share your thoughts with me! 🙏

#certain solid fragrance #anon #ask #pondphuwin

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kyean · 10 months ago

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Chapter 22: Insatiable

Summary: A chance meeting that all started with almond butter Pairing: Jean Kirstein x black!fem!reader Warnings: lots and lots of smut LMFAO, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampies, fingering (f), oral (f), rough sex (maybe???), jean basically has no refractory period lmfao, little bit of aftercare, nudity, reader passes out from the orgasms, squirting, jean is ABSOLUTELY whipped for you lol, i think that's it if i missed anything please let me know! Word Count: 3940 A/N: New chapter! I'm still so in love with this series, and I have a decent amount of chapters planned, so I honestly don't know how long this series will be lol, but I plan to update the next one soon!

Masterlist

You'll probably never admit it, but Ymir ordering you to stay home is what you really needed. You don't have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn, and you can stay in your warm bed.

Although, you've been up since the late morning, making breakfast in the kitchen while you're on the phone with Hitch, suddenly very nervous. "I don't know if I can do this Hitch," you whisper into the phone.

"Did you really call me on my day off, waking me up on a Saturday afternoon?" she tiredly asks.

"Well, I couldn't call you last night because..." you trail off, your face warming a bit at what last night entailed. "Also, you're the only one who knows about this. I'm sorry, I didn't know it was your day off," you apologize. "What if he doesn't like it?"

"Sweetheart, I've never seen a man more lovesick," she responds. "You will be fine, he's gonna love it. He loves you, stop worrying." She sighs loudly. "Goodbye."

"Wait, Hitch!" you say, but she's already hung up the phone. You stare at your phone as you nervously chew your nail. You've never done something like this before, and you thought it would be a good idea. Is it too early for this?

Jean can smell food being made when he wakes up, his eyes opening to reveal that you're not lying next to him. He can't help but smile as he sits up, stretching, before he goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

He can't wipe the smile off his face as he looks at himself in the mirror, realizing that he's spending his birthday with someone that he really loves--outside of his friends and family, of course.

And having you scream his name last night and over into the early morning was a better birthday present than he could've ever asked for.

He rubs his eyes as he quietly walks into the kitchen, and when he looks up, the words he was about to say die in his throat as he stops in his tracks. You happen to look over your shoulder right as he stops, and you walk over to him. "You're awake!" you tell him softly, and his brain is still taking a while to catch up, so he barely kisses you back when you do.

His eyes trail down to the kiss the cook apron you're wearing, and he's not listening to a word you're saying. "I made your favorite--"

Your words are cut off when your top half is suddenly flush against the counter. You feel his hands softly trace over your back before they make their way down to your ass. You're completely naked, the apron you're wearing the only thing covering you.

His hands massage your butt, and you try to stop him. "Wait, Jean, the stove is still on," you try, and without even taking his eyes off of you, he keeps one hand on you, leaning over and using the other one to turn the stove off.

The food you were cooking is forgotten as he presses his lower half into you, and you gasp when you feel him already throbbing against you. "What's this?" he asks, his voice dangerously low in a way you've never heard before, and it sends a thrill up your spine.

"I-I just wanted to surprise you," you whisper, and he spreads your ass, exposing your soaking folds.

You'd been up for a while even though you had stayed up so late. Hitch randomly threw the idea of this out to you a while ago, but you never really dared to do it. You finally did though, but waking up and cooking in nothing but an apron had you more turned on than you'd ever been in your life.

It took almost everything in you to not touch yourself while you were cooking. "Really now?" he questions, and you can hear him moving behind you, but when you try to crane your neck even further to look behind you, you don't see him.

A surprised moan leaves your lips at the same time you jump when you feel him lick through your folds. You barely have time to process it because you immediately feel his face pressed against you. Your legs go weak as he sucks at your clit, your knees knocking against the cabinets, but Jean catches you, pushing his hands further into your ass.

Since you were already so sensitive, it doesn't take long for you to get that familiar feeling building up in your tummy. You suddenly feel his fingers sliding into you as he keeps his attention on your clit, and you can't help but push yourself back on his face.

"S-Shit," you groan softly, letting your head fall onto the counter. "Fuck, Jean--'m gonna cum," you warn, your toes curling into the floor. Your hips are rocking back onto his fingers as he continues his ministrations on your clit.

He doesn't respond to your warning, but he does groan loudly against you when you finally cum. Your grip on the counter is tight as your orgasm runs through you, your knees hitting the cabinets again as your legs go weak. He holds you up as he coaxes you through it, and you catch your breath after he pulls away, sliding his fingers out of you.

You rest your weight on your elbows intending to sit up so you can look at him, but he stops your movements with a hand on your back again. You flinch just a bit when you feel him rub his tip over your dripping hole, and you look at him over your shoulder.

"W-Wait, Jean!" you try softly, but he doesn't even look your way, and you can barely focus on what you're trying to say with the way he's rubbing himself against you.

"What? You don't want this?" he asks lowly.

"Of course, I do, but--" Your words die in your throat, reincarnated as a gasp when he suddenly sheaths himself fully inside of you. He moans quietly as he feels your warm walls wrapped around him, and you've barely gotten used to the intrusion before he slides out, hitting your g-spot almost instantly when he moves his hips forward.

One of his hands slides to your shoulder, holding onto it for extra leverage as he pistons into you, picking up the pace quickly. He watches your ass ripple every time your skin makes contact, and you bite your lip as the sensitivity from your first orgasm heightens the road to your second.

Jean suddenly pulls you up by your shoulder so your back is against his chest, and you can faintly feel him sliding the strap of the apron over your head, and you wonder when he undid the bow in the back. His other hand fondles your tit, squeezing the fat before he rubs over your nipple before giving it a little pinch that has your moans pitching up an octave for a split second.

"Fuck, angel. You feel so good," he moans into your ear, and your head falls back onto his shoulder, your nails digging into his skin as the pleasure starts to become overwhelming.

You cum with a weak, breathy cry of his name, and he braces his arm across your chest as he fills you soon after, his hips slowing down after a bit as he rides out your highs.

He places his hands on your hips softly as he carefully pulls out of you, immediately replacing himself with his fingers to slide his cum back inside of you. You wince slightly at the overstimulation before he turns you around, capturing your lips in a deep kiss almost as soon as you're facing him.

You throw your arms around his shoulders as his hands rub all over your body. "What's all this for?" he mumbles against your lips as his hands squeeze at your ass.

"It's your birthday present," you whisper, your face warming again, becoming slightly embarrassed even though he just made you cum twice.

"Really?" he hums, his head dipping down so that he can look at your body, and even though he's seen you naked so many times, his eyes on you at this moment make you nervous.

"Yeah. Do you like it?"

He smirks as he meets your eyes again, moving his hands from your ass to your thighs before he picks you up. Your legs immediately wrap around his waist as he kisses you again, sloppier than before.

"I love it," he whispers before he kisses your neck, and your fingers grip his shirt when you feel his teeth softly digging into your skin.

Jean starts to walk away from the kitchen, and you already know where his final destination is without even asking. "Wait, Jean. I made your favorite," you laugh quietly, one of your hands sliding into his hair at the base of his neck.

He licks up your neck as he makes it to your room. "I think there's something else I'd rather eat," he whispers, carefully setting you on the bed before he gently grabs your legs by the back of your knees. He pushes them up, out of his way before his mouth is on you again, and you whimper softly since you're still so sensitive.

"J-Jean--oh, God," you moan, looking down to see him staring right at you, and the feral look in his eyes only makes you hotter. His tongue is dipping in and out of your hole, and he must feel you clench around the muscle because you swear you can see him smirking at you.

A few more swirls on his tongue on your clit right before he sucks at it is what sends you over, your clit throbbing so hurt, it's borderline painful. He follows you as you try to move away from him, only pulling away from you when he's gotten enough of your taste.

Your legs are nearly trembling, your chest heaving as you can barely hold your legs up. You let them fall around Jean, your eyes slipping closed as you try to catch your breath.

Your eyes nearly shoot open when you feel his hands on your thighs, moving them to the side to give himself more room so he can get closer to you. He's hard again, and your heart feels like it's about to beat out of your chest as he strokes himself a couple of times before he lines himself up.

He's only focusing on how your lower half is glistening with your cum, and the squelching you hear when he slides into you seems so loud to your ears. He rests his weight on his elbows beside your head, and you rest your hands on his shoulders when he kisses you, eventually sliding them over to rub over his back.

You try to keep up with the kiss as he sucks on your tongue, but you're so far gone that you can barely continue. You pull away when he circles his hips inside of you, putting your legs into the crook of his elbows which only seems to make him go even deeper.

It feels like you're drooling, and you can't be sure, but the way his tongue gently trails away from your lips tells you that you might be. "Fuck--Jean," you cry, your nails beginning to dig into his back.

"You like that, baby?" he asks, his smile carrying a dark look as he watches your eyes cross before they roll back into your head. Nothing is running through your head, only the pleasure that you're feeling, and you don't answer him, but it's not like he needed you to.

Tears stream down your face that he kisses over as the circles of his hips start to turn into back and forward motions, and you think you're close to sobbing at how much you're feeling. "I love you so much, angel," he whispers as he speeds his hips up, causing you to dig both sets of your nails into his back. "You always treat me so good," he coos, and you can only respond with his name.

You faintly hear him swear quietly over your moans, and you suddenly feel him moving, peeling your eyes open to see that his lower half is straight up. You think he might be giving you a break, but he suddenly grips your hips tightly as he adjusts his legs before pulling you up so that you're resting on top of them.

You can barely breathe before he pulls out and slamming you back onto him, and the tears this time really don't stop coming. Your hands grip the sheets so hard it hurts, your back arching even more as it feels like you're being suspended in the air.

This new position makes it feel like he's even deeper than he's ever been before, and it's so much to handle. The bed creaks with his movements as his eyes stay on your tits swaying every time your hips meet his.

"P-Please," you find yourself whining, the noises you're making nearly animalistic as your orgasm quickly rises, but it feels different this time. "Please, please, p--please," you babble. "Jean!" you scream right before you cum, squirting all over him, and he swears loudly as he watches you coat yourself and him in your cum.

"Fuuuck--Jesus Christ," he groans, letting his head fall back on his shoulders as he slams as far into you as he can before he paints your walls white. He gives a solid, slow thrust every time his dick twitches with each spurt of cum until he's finally done, carefully setting you down on the bed.

When you come to, you can faintly hear voices coming from somewhere, but you ignore them for a few seconds, snuggling into the warmth that's currently engulfing you. "You awake, sweetheart?"

You carefully lift your head in the direction of the voice, blinking a couple of times to get your vision clear, and Jean's face comes into focus. "Wha' time 's it?" you mumble, wincing a bit when you shift your legs, soreness evident in between them.

"About to be six," he answers softly, running his finger down your face gently before he rubs over your body.

"I slept all day?" you respond, your voice a little clearer now that you're waking up, and you realize that the voices are coming from the TV.

"Yeah. Think you passed out," he answers with a chuckle that moves your head since it's resting against his chest. "Kinda scared me."

"Well, who's fault is that?" you grumble with no heat behind it. You try to sit up, but you put too much weight on your ass, causing a moan to come through your mouth as you flop back down.

Jean absolutely wrecked your shit. You never thought he could fuck you like that, and as the memories start to flood back into your head, you clench at the thought, but quickly push it away. You've got something else to care of.

"You hungry?" he asks, and your stomach answers before you can, grumbling loudly in response to his question. "I'll make you something. Stay here, okay?" he tells you, kissing you softly before he slides out of bed.

You obviously have no intention of going anywhere, and you smile softly as you watch him slide some shorts on before leaving the room. Once his footsteps start to fade, you sigh heavily before you yawn, feeling like you could sleep for another day.

You roll over, giving up on trying to sit up and reach over to your nightstand for your phone. You go through the notifications, seeing a couple from Hitch that you respond to.

Jean comes back with food and an ice pack that he wraps in a towel. He adjusts you so that you're not putting weight where you're sore before carefully placing the ice pack on you. You sigh in relief at the feeling, your legs still quaking whenever you move them for too long.

You start eating as he gets back onto the bed, and you scream in shock when you hear something snap, your eyes widening when the bed sinks just a little. "Oh, my God. What was that?" you ask, looking at Jean, who's wearing the same look on his face.

"I don't know," he answers, carefully getting off the bed before he checks what it could've been. He makes it to the other side of the bed, and you see him crouch down as you continue eating. You frown when you think you hear him laughing, and he pops back up with a smile on his face.

"Oh, my God, you broke the fucking bed," you conclude, and he shrugs lazily as he stands, making his way back over to you.

"Maybe," he muses, but the smile on his face tells you that he's nowhere near sorry about it. "I'll fix it."

"Yeah, okay," you hum as you finish off the food before moving on to the bowl of fruit. You feel a lot better after you've eaten, and Jean takes all of the dishes out of the room as you slowly attempt to stretch your legs.

Spreading them hurts like a bitch, but once you stretch a bit, you feel significantly better than before. Jean comes back in to see you about to lay back down, but he quickly stops you. "C'mon, let's get cleaned up," he says softly before picking you up without letting you answer.

He puts on your shower cap as he makes sure the water temperature is right before gently pushing you toward the shower. He gets in nearly right after you do, sliding the door closed as you let the warm water run over your skin.

It's only about ten minutes into it when you realize that he doesn't have completely innocent intentions. His hands wander, but you don't call him on it, honestly wondering and maybe, hoping, that he'll fuck you like that again.

It's only a few minutes later he's got your back against the wall, holding you up as he fucks up into you, your bodies half covered in soap. Even though it's been hours since the last time he was inside of you, it seems like you're still sensitive, squeezing around him as you cum in no time.

He slides out of you before carefully sliding out of you, watching his cum drip down your legs, and you think that's it until he turns you around. "How are you still hard?" you ask, not even trying to hide your disbelief, wondering if he even has a refractory period.

"How can I not be?" he answers as he presses his chest against your back as he gropes your body. "I'm with the most beautiful woman in the world," he compliments as his hands slide down in between your legs, rubbing over your clit. "Who has the best pussy in the world."

You always thought about how much whiplash he gives you when he says something so sweet and then follows it up with something so filthy. And then continuing that with fucking you two more times.

You can barely step out of the shower as you try to dry yourself off while he finishes up. You're about to walk back into your room when he gently grabs your wrist, pulling you into him. "Where ya going?" he asks, trapping you in his arms by wrapping them around your waist.

"I got you another present. I'm gonna see if it's here," you try, but he doesn't let you go.

"I don't need anything else. I got the best one right here," he counters before he kisses you, letting his hands slide under your towel so that he can squeeze your ass.

"I know," you giggle. "But you're really gonna like it," you urge, carefully pushing against him until he lets go. You're surprised at how easily he lets you go, but you easily slip out of the bathroom and into your room.

He doesn't follow you out, so you quickly grab your phone, quickly dialing a number. You hold the phone to your ear as you cross your fingers, bouncing on your toes in waiting.

"Hey, where are you guys? The party's about to--"

"Connie!" you whisper. "I need you to call Jean in the next thirty seconds."

"What? Why?"

"Just please. Once you call him we'll be there. Just come up with an excuse or something to get him to the building."

You hear him sigh. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you," you breathe before you quickly hang up the phone when you hear Jean walk into the room. You lock your phone, turning around carefully so you don't raise any suspicion, and his arms are back around you.

"It's not here yet," you say, and all he does is shrug before he kisses you, resting his hands on your neck.

"That's okay. You seriously didn't have to get me anything," he responds.

"Well, I remember saying that during my birthday, and you still did," you tease, and he smiles down at you before kissing you again. You can already tell where things are about to be going, and you're waiting for his phone to ring.

He's already got you on the bed when it finally does ring, and he quietly pulls away, grabbing his phone to see who it is. He shakes his head as he declines the call before throwing his phone to the side and focusing on you again.

You try to play it off, and luckily his phone rings again. He groans loudly as he grabs it, sighing as he answers the phone. "Connie, I'm sure you're aware that I'm off today."

"Yeah, I know. But Tybur just called again, and he really wants to talk to you about something. He didn't sound happy."

"Tell him I'll call him as soon as I'm back in the office." And his hand drifts in between your legs, your hand slapping over your mouth to conceal your gasp when he reaches your folds.

"It sounded kinda urgent. Like something about meeting you here. I wouldn't call you unless I could handle it, but he's adamant."

Jean's hand leaves you as he sighs, his head falling back as he closes his eyes. "Okay, I'll be there in ten." He hangs up the phone, and you put on the best face you can muster.

"Everything okay?" you question as he sets his phone down before leaning over you to kiss you.

"Yeah. Just a client that's a pain in the ass," he complains with a roll of his eyes. He gets up out of bed before getting dressed. "I gotta head to the office, but it shouldn't take me long."

"Let me go with you," you say.

"You gonna miss me that much? It's not gonna take much time," he says, smiling as you get out of bed.

"I know, but I was thinking we could get out and do something. I mean, we have been in the house all day. It wouldn't hurt to get some fresh air." You know that he's already going to say yes, so you quickly run to the bathroom to fix your hair, and your mouth drops open when you see all of the marks on your skin.

You cover them up as quickly as possible before you get dressed, meeting Jean in the living room. He looks up when he hears you walk in, his eyes immediately running over your body. "Is this new?" he questions, walking towards you as he admires the sundress you're wearing.

It's more on the tighter side, and you bought it with Hitch a while ago, but you never knew when to wear it, so you figured you might as well wear it now since you have a reason. "Kinda. I bought it a while ago."

"You look good," he responds, and when he kisses you, you cut the kiss short playfully, urging him out of the door.

Chapter 21|Masterlist|Chapter 23

#🌺.almond butter

0 notes

jawnjendes · 6 years ago

Text

it came back for more | shawn mendes

university au, shawn x goth gf

AN: let me know if i should give the goth gf a name bc like,,,,,,,,,,, idk just let me know,, also does anyone actually like this series lmao

masterlist | series playlist

"You're leaving me?" Shawn asked in mock disbelief.

I knew he was joking, but the fact that he said it as we were walking through campus, in the view of many passing students was a little embarrassing. There was just no getting used to that, like he couldn’t get used to my emotional distance sometimes. I just kept my eyes on the ground and continued walking next to him. No hand holding today. Doesn’t mean I don’t adore him any less.

"I made plans with Stella weeks ago," I told him. "We already bought tickets."

Shawn smiled, letting go of his pretend hurt. "It's cool. I understand, and I hope you have fun."

"Shit, me too. I feel like this movie is going to destroy me."

Yes, this is about the most anticipated movie of the year. Yes, I was more hyped than I have been in months. No, there will not be any spoilers.

"You're welcome to tag along," I added. "I mean, if there's still seats available at the theatre."

He shrugged off the invite, which I knew he would do. Shawn wasn't into this particular franchise, claiming he was tired of this type of movie. Can't say I blame him, plenty of people felt the same way. It was just hard to ramble at him about it because he didn't know jack shit. That was why I was going to the movie with Stella.

"I'll just stay home and watch Grey's without you." He smirked.

"First of all, that's mean and I would never do that to you. Secondly, Grey's comes back next week!"

"Oh yeah."

“Besides,” I added, “I’m gonna spend the night at your place anyway. Just like every Thursday.”

“Yeah, but instead of twenty four uninterrupted hours, we’ll get…” Shawn counted on his fingers. “...Less than that?”

We made it back to my dorm to find Stella lying facedown on the couch. Shawn and I shared a look as we entered the vicinity. Not that this wasn’t unusual, it was just hard to pinpoint her reasoning for this. I mean, I shouldn’t talk. Sometimes I lie on the floor without explanation wherever I please. Stella was used to that, but Shawn would ask if I “wanted to talk” or something.

"Did you get spoiled?" I asked her.

"No," she replied, her voice muffled by the cushions. "I'm trying to kill time. There's five hours left before the movie!"

I sighed and went to sit on her legs. "I know. I made Shawn take my phone because I don't wanna go online and see something I don't wanna see."

Stella picked her head up. "That's a good idea." She reached for her phone on the table, extending her arm towards my boyfriend. "Can you take mine too?"

Shawn chuckled, back and forth between the two of us. But he took Stella's phone. "You're both crazy."

"And what about it?" I said back. Then I reached for his hand. "Anyway, I need you to keep me busy for at least three hours." I smiled and batted my lashes in an exaggerated manner.

"Only three hours?" he replied with a cheeky grin as he took my hand and got me to my feet again.

"Ugh!" Stella interjected as she rolled off the couch. "I'm going to the library! And I'm leaving my phone so I don't go online! If I'm not back before we have to leave, just assume I killed myself because I got spoiled!"

"That's valid," I told her, "but I like you better alive."

Two of the three hours went by before Shawn practically tired himself out. He tapped out and rolled onto his back, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I couldn’t blame him for pulling out (in every aspect) because it was close to finals season. Tensions were rising, he was finally feeling the consequences of missing assignments and poor exam grades. I knew that because I was going through the same thing. The semester was going to be over in a month, then I would be going back to California.

And Shawn was coming with me… for a week.

It got awfully cramped on my single size bed by the time Shawn was out like a light, so I got up and decided to get ready. I got dressed in the appropriate attire for this movie, a black t-shirt with the franchise logo and black leggings. Then I grabbed my makeup bag and sat down on the floor in front of my mirror. Halfway through my routine, Shawn awoke with a start.

"I'm up! Let's go again!" he said, sitting up.

I looked at him through the mirror, still blending concealer under my eyes with a sponge. "You're like, twenty minutes too late, my dear. I'm already getting ready."

He rubbed his eyes and yawned, nodding in response. "Okay…"

As he lied down again, I couldn't help but smile. Shawn was really fucking cute, and he had no right to be. I don't want to sound like that girl, because I’m rarely that girl, but how was I expected to spend three whole hours away from him tonight? Thursdays were usually our night, since neither of us worked or had class after four o'clock. I mean, nothing was going to stop me from going to this movie, let alone a cute guy with curly hair and a charming smile. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t miss him.

"You're still welcome to join us," I told him from where I was sitting.

"You really want me to go, eh?" he replied, shifting to his side so he was looking at me.

"I'm just saying, it's probably the only time you'll see me cry."

Shawn picked his head up, eyes wide. "Seriously?"

Between the two of us, he was the crier. Are we surprised at this point? I had my exceptions, like watching a new movie I was very passionate about, or when my chronic GI issues would flare up and give me a panic attack. However, I haven't gotten sick in a while, so technically only one thing was going to make me weep.

"Well," Shawn spoke after a while, "guess I'm going."

I knew I was expecting tear jerkers, but I still sported my inner and outer wings to the movie. Half of it smudged onto my eyelids and half was under my eyes. On top of that, I got a dehydration headache, because I refused to drink water during a three hour long movie. I did eat popcorn, even though it was well after the time I cut off food for the day. That sounds concerning, but it's a thing I go through. If I eat after 8PM I will spend the night barfing.

Shawn, Stella, and I left the theatre practically buzzing. The mood of the film and the other moviegoers kept our spirits high, despite the fact that Stella and I had visible mascara tracks on our faces. I cried at things you wouldn’t normally cry at in a movie, like when your favorite character breathes, or makes a dramatic entrance.

"Okay," Shawn said, "that was actually a really good movie."

"Good enough to convert into a stan?" I asked, holding his hand.

"Mm, probably not."

I quickly let go of his hand. "Fine."

Walking towards the parking lot was when I started to feel something. My abdomen felt a little sore, and it made me slow down my steps a little bit. I placed my hand on my stomach; It wasn’t excruciating, but it was noticeable.

"You okay, honey?" Shawn asked, looking at me.

I nodded quickly and got back into step with him. However, the soreness was persisting by the time we got back to my car. I unlocked the doors to let Stella and Shawn in, but I stood where I was and focused on this pain. Maybe I cried too hard at the movie. Maybe the popcorn I had was giving me a warning.

Either way, there go my late night plans.

"So, I don't think I should stay at your place tonight," I told Shawn when I got in the car.

"Aw, why?" he asked.

"My stomach is, uh, acting up a little. Not feeling too good."

"You're gonna let your stomach stop you?" Stella piped up from the backseat. She wasn't one to normally say things like that. She knew how serious I got when I got sick.

I looked at her through the rear view mirror. "You got plans tonight?"

She picked at her nails and stayed quiet for a minute. "I have a friend visiting."

"Just stay at mine anyway," Shawn said to me. "I have the tea you like, and medicine, and a shit ton of blankets to keep you cozy. I'll be there to take care of you."

"I don't know, I wouldn’t wanna put that on you."

"I really don't mind."

We’ve been together five and a half months. In those months, I have gotten flare ups a handful of times, and all of those times had to do with trying new foods that ended up disagreeing with me. Each time I was with Shawn, and I had to tell him to leave me to deal with my illness. He did so, reluctantly. He really wanted to nurse me back to health, though.

Sickness is just so ugly. I didn't want to burden him with my physically unstable ass sleeping on the bathroom floor. I didn't want him to hear me puking in his bathroom. We just got to a place where things were Love sick, not Sick sick. Everything was so soft and sweet between us. For once nothing was grey, it was soft blend of black and pink. I didn’t want to taint it with my stupid gastrointestinal crap.

On the other hand, Stella is my roommate. She offers to look after me when I get sick, to which I always say no. I know how to handle it. Still, she goes to the extent of cancelling plans and breaking dates just in case I needed help. She was my safe person when went out. She was the extrovert who wanted and deserved to have a good time.

I had to stop by campus to drop Stella off, anyway. She got out of the car, reminding me once again that she'll have somebody over very soon.

Shawn turned to me once we were alone. "Please stay with me tonight."

"I don't need you to deal with my sickness," I said firmly. "It's nothing personal-"

"Okay, stop for a second," he told me. Then he placed his hand on the shoulder of my seat. "I know you know how to handle yourself when you get sick. It's like, a plan you've had to make and adjust over time, and you know it like the back of your hand. I get that, you know how to take care of yourself. I just don't want you to do this plan alone."

"I won't be alone, I have Stella." By that I mean, she's on standby only if things go really wrong... which is never. I’m not that sick.

This time, though… I’ve only felt actual pain one time before this.

Shawn gave me a look. "She's gonna be busy tonight. She wants to be busy tonight."

We stared at each other for a while. My stomach was flipping for reasons unrelated to illness. My boyfriend had stupidly kind, gentle intentions, and stupidly pretty eyes. He also had a very comfy bed.

I sighed. "Fine."

After some tea and rest, I felt a little better. I felt good enough to hop into bed with my boyfriend for about twenty minutes. It was fine until he was on top of me...

"Fuck, I'm sorry," Shawn frantically said, moving off of me. "Oh god, I'm so sorry."

My face was scrunched with pain, and I tried to control my breathing. The soreness from earlier turned into a sharp pain in my abdomen that made me push Shawn away from me. It was kind of a mood killer to say the least, since it made him panic.

"Are you okay?" he asked, voice trembling. "How bad is it? What do you need?"

"Shh!" It wasn't intended to sound mean, but I was trying to focus on what my body was doing.

I struggled to sit up, so Shawn held my lower back to support me. He kept asking questions, but I was rapidly tuning him out. The pain didn't get any better or worse, but I was feeling something in my guts. I got up and dashed into the bathroom.

We're going to get just a little TMI. I wanted use the bathroom, but my bowels weren't having it. Then, I wanted to puke but my stomach wasn't having it. I didn't know what to do, so I just stayed on the floor in front of the toilet and let my body try to figure things out for itself.

I shouldn't have had popcorn at the movies. Sure, popcorn is light on the stomach, but Stella wanted extra butter, and I hadn’t eaten for hours. I knew what I was getting myself into, and now I was paying for it. Add popcorn to the list of foods that were now forever tainted with a bad memory.

Shawn came knocking on the door, his voice full of concern. "Honey, are you okay? Can I come in?"

I didn’t say anything but he let himself in anyway. He sat next to me on the floor, next to where I was leaning over the toilet. Delicately, he moved my hair from my face and held it back.

"I don't think I'm gonna puke," I told him, resting my forehead on the seat. My mouth was watering inexplicably, and I felt a tingle in my feet.

"Okay, then let's get you back to bed," he said gently, placing his hands on my waist to help me up.

Then, I actually puked. Yup, no more popcorn for me.

It goes without saying that I was up for most of the night. I only threw up that one time, but I felt nauseous until the sun peeked through the window. Not only that, I always got a bout of anxiety whenever things with my stomach got bad, and it intensified knowing that I wasn’t home at my dorm. I wasn’t in the comfort of my squeaky single size bed. I didn’t have my phone charging next to me here because the only other outlet was on the other side of the room. I felt so out of place and I wanted to run, but I knew I couldn’t because traveling would only upset my stomach more.

Shawn fell asleep when I reassured him that I wouldn’t spend anymore time in the bathroom. He was on his side facing me practically the whole night. When I felt okay enough to lay down, I put one of the extra pillows between us and faced away from him. He started stirring by the time I was finally sleepy.

When I woke up in the late afternoon, I was just grateful I didn’t have class on Fridays. I couldn’t get up even if I wanted to.

I rolled onto my back, only to find that I was alone. I rubbed my eyes, then quickly remembered that I fell asleep with smudged eyeliner, and I just made it worse. I sighed and looked out the window from where I lied. It had gotten cloudy throughout the day. Thank god, today was not a sunshine kinda day for me.

If only I had the energy to get off my ass and go back home where I wanted to be.

My eyes blankly stared at the ceiling. Whatever spirit I had left in me was slowly floating away. My incorporeal being was rising out of my physical being, until voices outside the bedroom caused me to come back to earth.

“Oh, let me just see her! Maybe I can help!”

A woman. I slowly moved onto my side, curling up under the blanket and trying to focus on the window. Then, I heard Shawn’s voice.

“No! Ah - I mean…” He was suddenly outside the door. “Let me see if she’s awake.”

Shit.

The door opened, but I didn’t move from my position. Shawn came up in my peripherals, and then he sat down on the empty side of the bed. His eyes met mine, and he smiled.

“Hey, you. How ya feeling?”

I blinked. “Tired… Not sick. Just tired.”

“As long as you’re not sick.” He brought a hand up to my head and stroked my hair. “Listen, my mom is here.”

“Why?” Seemingly innocent question, but it did make me feel some kinda way, and it certainly sounded like it.

“She comes every so often,” Shawn explained. “She’ll clean and do my laundry.”

Must be nice.

“I told her you were here,” he continued. “I told her you were sick, and she just wants to check on you.”

We had talked about me meeting his family. I joked about wearing a high ponytail with a pink scrunchie the way Meredith did in Grey’s Anatomy. Shawn replied by saying I’d be wearing a black scrunchie, duh. Clearly, it wasn’t supposed to be like this, the day after a particularly nasty flare up. I was severely unprepared and it was a couple of months too early. But how the hell am I supposed to turn his mother away when she was already here?

“I’ll go out there,” I told him. “Let me just wash my face first.”

Shawn looked pleasantly surprised. “Okay, great. We’ll be in the living room.” He kissed my forehead and got to his feet.

As I pushed myself out of bed, I noticed the persisting pain in my abdomen yet again. Not as bad as last night, but it was still there. I already knew how to handle this.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #fourtristattoosspring #shawn x goth gf #i think everything after this is gonna be posted in chronological order #no more out of order chapter updates lmfao #god i hope ppl like this series #im feeling inadequate and sensitive sry

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67impalaandwhisky · 3 years ago

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Get Some Rest

Daryl Dixon x Wife

Rating: 18+

Chapter 5.

Warnings (Ongoing and Will Be Updated): Blood, Death, Walker Bites, Smut, Impreg Kink, Pregnancy Sex, Fluff, Angst

Warnings For This Chapter: None Really

A/N: So I am watching TWD for the first time, I started writing this series when I was only on Season 2 and now that I'm on Season 7... We needa talk lmfao. I'm going to keep this series based before Negan in Alexandria before Glenn and Abraham... you know. Hershel is also gonna be alive cause that's grandpa and we love him. So keep that in mind while you read! Enjoy!

The sun is only starting to go down when Daryl wakes up.

He pulls himself away from you slowly, kissing your temple.

If last night didn't finally pull some perspective out of him, getting home to you this morning to see how completely worried you were did.

He doesn't waste a second getting up, Hershel's orders echo through his brain like a ringing bell.

He grabs you a bottle of water, then two just in case before starting on some food.

You've actually been revolutionary when it comes to food for this town. You're so smart and so resourceful all from reading books and knowing little tidbits from before the apocalypse.

You taught people how to make pasta from scratch, taught people how to make edible wheat, you've even gone so far as to make equipment from scratch for food purposes.

Daryl knows the underlying reason if he's being honest.

You won't be asked to go out on runs and to go patrol if you're helping manage the food sources and helping bring old favorites back to the town's inhabitants.

He can respect it. It's smart.

You're smart.

Daryl cracks a few eggs into a bowl, peeking down the hallway every so often to make sure you haven't woken up.

Your husband has picked up on a few things since you've shown your skills and he's simply run away with the cooking in this house.

You do so much for all the townspeople, he's willing to do whatever it takes to make you just a little bit less stressed.

He's the survivalist of the family and you're the brains -- can't ask for much more.

"If you put the spring onions in the eggs it'll add a tasty bite to them, supplements the pepper and salt," you call to your husband.

Daryl jumps at the sound of your voice, nearly knocking the bowl over. "Jesus Christ! Don't ya know better than to sneak up on a man? Fuck!" he curses, putting his hand over his heart.

Your giggle is short and light, making up for the scaring incident just moments ago instantaneously.

"Go back to bed, you ain't walkin' around today," your husband instructs, grabbing the spring onions like you suggested.

"I'll go back to bed later, I need to go check how the rice is growing." you reply, sliding on your shirt.

Daryl shakes his head immediately, walking over to the front door and blocking your exit. "Go back to bed, baby. I ain't sayin' it again. You gotta rest. Doctor's orders."

Your frown is so deep, you wouldn't be surprised if your face gets frozen that way.

"But-"

"But nothin'. Get your sweet ass back to bed. Just listen for once, please," Dixon begs, folding his arms.

With a whiny sigh, you trudge back to your bedroom.

"Stubborn pretty thing," your husband hisses, walking back to the kitchen.

There's been many days lately where you just get to be laid up in bed. You've never seen the inside of your house as much as this month.

You find it difficult to just sit around when so much needs to get done in the way of food around here. Even Daryl finds it difficult to stay in one place but you relate that to him always being on the move since he was very young.

"You're jittery," your husband notes, sitting up.

"I'm just so used to doing stuff," you breathe.

You're so full from the good food Daryl made that you don't think you'd be able to move even if you wanted to.

"Your feet are so swollen, I don't think you're goin' anywhere for a while," the redneck comments, moving down the bed.

Just the notion of being stuck inside has you raring to leave.

"That sounds terrible," you chirp.

Daryl lifts your foot onto his lap with a lopsided smirk. "Hand me the lotion," he insists, combing his hair back with his fingers.

"Ah yes, the good ol' expired lotion." you tease, tossing him the bottle from the bedside table.

"It works, don't see you gripin' about it when I'm rubbin' your back," he quips.

Sticking your tongue out, he chuckles freely.

His thumbs work quickly once the lotion is on your skin, he applies pressure in all the right spots, dragging the pads of his fingers over your sore, swollen muscles.

"Oh God, you're sure you weren't a masseuse before the world ended?" you beam, resting back against the headboard comfortably.

"Ya got me," your husband teases, kissing over your bare calf.

"I gotta read this book on beans and how they grow," you announce, grabbing the hard covered book.

Daryl laughs at the notion, nodding at the thick book. "Go on, I'm gonna tell the baby another story."

As you flip open the front cover, you watch your husband's eyes glaze over like he's remembering thousands and thousands of memories all at once.

"Where'd I stop, kiddo?" Daryl murmurs, furrowing his eyebrows.

"You stopped at the time you broke Rick's nose," you remind him, flipping through the first pages.

Your husband hums in agreement. "Your mama has saved my life so many times over, not just from those damn walkers but from people too… We had a nasty recurring character in our lives, called himself the Governor."

You scoff at the name, grabbing your water bottle and shaking your head at the memory.

"There was a real bad illness flying around the prison back in the day. Your mama thinks it was swine flu. I think it's another joke God wanted to tell."

Daryl continues to drift his fingers along your feet and ankle, remembering the old days.

"The Governor gave us a lot of trouble. We just had the flu victims finally getting better and the mad motherfucker rolled up with a tank…"

"What do you mean Carol is just gone?" you hiss to your boyfriend pulling him into an open cell.

"She burned two people… Rick said she had to go." Daryl murmurs, sitting on the bunk mattress and hanging his head.

"She was just trying to protect us! Is he crazy?! How's she gonna survive out there on her own?!" you gasp, covering your face with your hands.

You can understand where Rick is coming from but you can understand Carol's mentality.

If burning those two people meant that it could have stopped the sickness, you would have done it in a heartbeat.

"She has supplies, weapons, food…" the redneck whispers.

"Oh stop it! That doesn't mean shit and you know it! The only reason that she didn't come back with Rick is because that sickness spread. If it would have stopped at just those two, she would have been seen as a fucking hero. Such bullshit," you curse, folding your arms and taking a seat beside Daryl.

He hums in agreement. He has a special relationship with Carol, everyone knows this, they've become soulmate friends so fast after Sophia.

"Did you punch Rick again?" you inquire, leaning back against the wall.

"No… I don't even know how to process all of this… It's all ju-"

There's a large boom that echoes throughout the air and both of your heads slowly turn to one another with wide eyes.

"What the fuck?!" Daryl shouts, rushing out the cellblock with you in tow.

He grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers. "Don't you dare leave my side, you understand me? I ain't losin' you again. Stay with me."

You nod immediately, bursting out into the courtyard with him.

"Rick! Get down here!" the Governor yells, standing atop a military grade tank.

"Oh, he's so fucking insane," Tyreese murmurs.

Your boyfriend pulls you with him, handing out sniper rifles to everyone as quietly as possible.

You're unsure what continues to draw people to this psychotic one eyed man who is always the leader of a band of misfits and deranged sociopaths… maybe it's the drawl of his accent that lulls people into a false sense of security.

Your heartbeat is racing inside of your ears, like your body is getting ready for a fight it instinctively knows is about to happen. You can't hear anything from the outside world, only responding to small squeezes from Daryl's hand before he lets it go.

You, Daryl and Carl post up against the chain link fence, keeping the mouths of your guns faced towards the commotion.

"Jesus Christ," your boyfriend murmurs when Michonne and Hershel are pulled from the back of their truck.

You can hear the violent sobs of Maggie and Beth muffled, like they're screaming underwater to the vast ocean.

You can only think to yourself how completely tits up this is going to go.

"I can shoot him, I can end it right now," Carl insists.

"Or you'll start somethin' else." Daryl hisses, looking over at the boy with a stern gaze.

"Should have let him take that shot," you interrupt, studying the growing phases of the beans.

Your husband grabs your other foot, sighing softly. "I should have, yeah."

When The Governor grabs Michonne's katana… your heart thuds deep within your chest and your fighting sobs that threaten to slip past your lips.

There's only one way this is going to end… you can feel it.

"Get to the bus," you cry gently.

"No. We stand together. We all have jobs to do," Beth whimpers, trying to steel her resolve.

Rick begins a passionate plea, a speech that for all intents and purposes would put gusto and faith into many.

"This isn't gonna work, he's fucking craz-" your voice suddenly stops when The Governor chops at Hershel's neck.

The scream is so loud and you find yourself even yelping at the sight.

"NO!" Maggie bellows.

You fire the first shots at the survivors outside of the gates, if Daryl has taught you one thing -- survival of the fittest is the only thing that matters right now.

There's gunshots and screaming, blood just flying up into the air like fireworks on the Fourth of July.

You lose sight of Michonne and Hershel in an instant, even Rick is nowhere to be seen.

"Baby!" Daryl's scream is drowned out by missiles flying into the prison walls.

Everything in this moment is like the worst cacophony of a deathlike musical. The crying, the screaming, the shouts of anger… it all triples into a song of battle.

When the tank rolls in, you lose your boyfriend immediately. You don't stand your ground, you run and hide for a better angle on the incoming murderers.

You can hear the growls of walkers when bullets aren't whizzing into walls and plants by your head.

This is so beyond fucked.

You're so beyond fucked.

But you're gonna keep fighting -- because Daryl will.

"BABY!"

Daryl's voice fades and echoes with each passing moment but you can't respond as you keep your finger on the trigger gunning down incoming folks.

When the tank drives closer, you feel a golf ball sized lump growing within your throat.

"Y/N, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!" your boyfriend screams.

Finally, you catch him out of the corner of your eye. He's two seconds away from taking a bullet to the brain but you manage to shoot his aggressor in an instant.

"Walker!" you bellow.

Your boyfriend turns on his heel at your word, stabbing the walker in the temple with his knife.

He uses the dead man as a shield, absorbing bullets as you take out men here and there that shoot at him.

Daryl is comfortable with you watching his back so much so that he feels like can afford to take a second to pull the pin out of a grenade.

Your ears ring with the loud bang and you have to blink several times to will your vision to straighten out.

"Y/N, come to me! Now!" your boyfriend orders, pulling the pin out of another grenade and shoving it down the pipe of the tank.

You do as told, jumping up and running on weak legs towards him.

He holds up his crossbow, shooting it into the head of the plaguy tank driver.

"Carl?!" you scream at the top of your lungs, shooting some close walkers who are getting too close for comfort.

"We gotta go baby. Right now. We gotta leave." Daryl hisses, pulling you with him.

"But we can't! We have to g-"

"Y/N! We have to go!" the redneck yells, tugging you away from the prison.

"God, the smell." you recall, shutting your book.

Daryl hums in agreement, closing his eyes at the memory. "I didn't know what I would have done if I would have lost mama again. She was all I could think about."

"You were worried about Hershel," you comment, combing your fingers through his hair.

"Well yeah but he's fine now." Daryl murmurs.

"We lost everyone after the prison, everyone was split up," you tell your stomach.

Your husband scoffs at the memory. "Me and your mama just ran and ran until we couldn't anymore."

"I-I can't," you wheeze, jumping over a strewn tree trunk.

Your boyfriend looks around at his surroundings before nodding. There's no imminent danger that he can see so the least he can do is let you rest a few minutes.

"We sh-should hole up somewhere," you wheeze, crouching down to take deep breaths.

"Ain't got nowhere around here that's safe, baby girl," Daryl murmurs, passing you the only bottle of water left between the both of you.

"We can make a place safe, put up signs that tell the others where we are… they're gonna come look for us. I just know it." you breathe, leaning back against the tree trunk.

The redneck weighs his options and God, it sounds like a good one.

"I should try and track… see if they left any clues about where they took off to." Dixon announces.

He doesn't believe that anyone at the prison is still alive… hell, he's surprised you both are okay.

But you believe, and that's enough for him to keep going for a few hours.

Next Chapter ---->

Get Some Rest Taglist: @howlerwolfmax, @dunixxd, @daryldixonstorm, @shawtygonemad, @riverscyberwife, @gnocchey, @fuseburner

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon smut #daryl x you #daryl x reader #twd fanfic #twd fic #twd fanfiction #the walking dead

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malleux · 3 years ago

Text

[4] - give him some head

table of contents

-> scaramouche x fem!reader | gang!au

-> warnings: cursing, wound mention, guns

a/n: this is a short chapter idk sorry lmfao i wanted some bonding. also there’s literally nothing canon abt scaramouche’s mom but. this is my story i do what i want.

fill out this form to be on the taglist

You were never a morning person. The idea of waking up before 9 was a nightmare to you- even 9 was a little too early for your liking.

When you woke up early for classes, you were grumpy. You had an attitude with everyone who approached you, even Diluc. Everyone knew not to mess with you in the mornings.

But here, standing in Scaramouche’s bedroom at 7:30am, you had no place to get an attitude.

La Signora knelt at the bedside, carefully helping her injured leader sit up. He winced slightly with every movement, obviously not wanting to show weakness in front of his teammates. Unfortunately for Scaramouche, though, his members weren't idiots. Even you could see the flinches and tight breaths that he harbored in his chest every time he had to move and quite frankly, it was pitiful.

Childe’s eyes hadn't left you from the moment you entered Scaramouche’s room where they all had congregated. He insisted on wrapping the bandages first to teach you what to do. You were thankful- you'd never played nurse before. Especially not to a gunshot wound.

The room was quiet. Tense. You could feel everyone's weariness as Scaramouche slowly laid back in the bed, once more hiding his pain. Childe patted the blankets and stood up, facing you.

"If the wound starts bleeding again, reinforce it with some dry bandages. Don't take it off if it's not bleeding. If it is, don't take it off until it's done bleeding. Scaramouche’s had enough wounds, unfortunately, so he can help you gauge those things. We cleaned the dirt and shit out last night, so you shouldn't have to worry too much about cleaning it. Just- don't run off again. Please."

You heard the exasperation in her voice and nodded. Dottore held his hand out to you- in it, a small flip phone. You took it cautiously, still not forgetting that he was a dangerous individual, and fiddled with the piece of technology.

"It's a burner phone. We'll call you after visiting the Knights to give an update. Afterwards, destroy it. If you need to contact us, there's one number in the contacts list. Text it and just say the code "9653". We'll call back on a public phone. Do not use any specific words that could give away anything. Be subtle in case someone's listening. I'm smart enough to figure out what you're saying." Dottore explained.

Sensing how you absolutely refused to look at, or even acknowledge, his presence, La Signora continued. "We're about to leave. This is your last chance to redeem yourself, so we hope that you'll make the right decision. Remember, Y/N, we're not going to hurt you."

You nodded, eyes flickering to Scaramouche’s frame. He seemed almost child-like laying in the large king bed, his eyes half-lidded as he listened to his members speak. He met your gaze and you quickly looked away, watching as the Fatui filed out of the room.

Childe placed her hand on your shoulder. "Scaramouche is a little difficult to get along with, but he has good intentions. Take care of him."

"Yeah!" Pierro cackled from the hallway, "Make it up to him. Make him some breakfast, give him some head- OW!"

La Signora shook her head. "There's plenty of food in the fridge. Don't order take-out, don't have any form of outside communication besides us. Don't go looking for your phone either, Dottore destroyed it."

"Wait- he what?!" You called out, but they were gone. The house was silent after the group had locked the doors completely. You turned to Scaramouche, who was still glaring at you. "Do you want breakfast?"

"I'd like to be with my team."

Your lips pulled into a tight line and you sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Alright, I'm sorry." When he quirked an eyebrow, you explained. "I- I didn't mean to shoot you. I was scared, and I meant for it to be just a warning shot. My hands were shaking and I didn't even aim. I didn't want to hit anyone."

Scaramouche stayed quiet, still analyzing your form as you played with your fingers. He looked rather cute, laying there with the soft comforter stopping just below his nose. Only his eyes and the top of his head peaked out, making him seem like a pouting child. A pouting child with a gun and years of combat experience, but a child nonetheless.

"I want pancakes."

<><><><> La Signora was right- there were an abundance of ingredients in the kitchen of the house, ready for you to use. But there was just one problem.

You had no clue how to make pancakes.

Flour, eggs, butter, and baking powder sat on the counter, untouched by your hands as you wracked your brain. You didn't have a phone to look up a recipe. Dottore would probably kill you if you used one of his computers. The flip phone was for emergencies only, and definitely didn't have any pancake recipes hidden in the notes section.

You sighed, deciding to grab a few measuring cups. Then, you stared at the ingredients again. While lost in your thoughts, you failed to notice a certain asshole limping into the kitchen and plopping himself down at the table. He watched you for a moment.

"You know you actually have to cook, right? Pancakes don't just make themselves while you watch."

"Fuck-" You jumped and whipped around, the measuring cup flying out of your grip and landing on the floor. "What are you doing up? You need to be resting."

"Do you even know how to make pancakes?"

Your eye twitched. He was ignoring your questions. "I- Of course I do! Now go back to bed before your wound reopens. How did you even get up, anyways? Not even twenty minutes ago you were struggling to sit up."

"I'm a miracle boy. Now, make pancakes."

You huffed and faced your mess again. In a wild guess, you grabbed the measuring cup once more and reached for the milk carton. Two cups should be okay, right?

"You're doing liquids first? Interesting. That's not how my mother taught."

"Then tell me, how did your mother make pancakes?" You seethed through your teeth.

The man only grinned and leaned his cheek against his palm. "I'm glad you asked. There's no harm in admitting you're clueless. First, do the dry ingredients. Flour, baking powder, all of that."

You're a dry ingredient, you bit back from saying. Scaramouche might not be in good shape to fight if you launched yourself at him from across the kitchen, but you didn't miss the glint of the handgun that rested against his hip. The same one you had used to shoot him.

“Now put in the eggs and milk and shit.” He gave you more measurements and ingredients and soon enough, you had pancakes on a plate and were serving them to the charity case that sat across from you at the table. He was quiet as he ate, and to you the tense silence was unbearable. You had to break it.

“These are good- you said your mom taught you how to make them like this? What was she like?” You flinched at the look Scaramouche gave you, immediately regretting asking.

“She was the one person in my life who I could just be myself around. Not Balladeer, the leader of the Harbingers in the Fatui, not Scaramouche, the man who’s killed more than his members combined, just me, her son. My mom was the best woman to ever exist.” He spoke intensely, and you could see just how much he loved her.

“Was?”

“She- she’s missing.” Scaramouche closed his eyes and placed his fork down, standing up. “I’m going back to bed. Uh, thanks.”

You nodded and began gathering the plates together, bringing them to the sink to wash them. You were fully aware that Scaramouche had stopped in the doorway and was observing you as you cleaned. He cleared his throat.

“And Y/N. Just so you know, none of us chose this life. We’re all in the Fatui for a reason. We’ve all got our own goals and plans. Don’t be quick to judge.”

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taglist: @taurus852 @cookiecatirl @furblrwurblr @osmiumtrash @teyvattales @y2kokomi @tokyosrevenge @duhsies @theresapancakes @thetwinkims @chocorobotss @kann0a

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#fic blog #genshin impact #x reader #fanfiction #writing #lay speaks #lay writes #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche genshin impact #scaramouche genshin #scaramouche x reader #fatui #childe #la signora #dottore

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mooshua · 4 years ago

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hi uh it’s mooshua (aurora, moosh, whatever you want to call me). I’m so sorry about my sudden leave and everything and worrying some of you. that was really uncool of me to do and I really am so regretful for that. honestly I’m kinda embarrassed right now. explaining myself is rather difficult because, I won’t lie, I’ve been having feelings of inadequacy towards both myself and the works I put out. lol so I’m kind of having a hard time articulating my emotions because my mind is all over the place and I’m literally sweating as I type this out.

long story short: I got burnt out, started hating my writing with all my being, accumulated some Not So Nice messages, and then just did not want to be perceived anymore.

the long story: like I said above, I’ve been having Conflicting Feelings with regards to what I have been writing. anytime I read what I wrote I would just feel my gut twist and turn like I was going to throw up because I WAS SO EMBARRASSED. nothing about it was... up to my standard? nothing flowed right, I could point out a billion mistakes, and I wasn’t laughing like I used to. and it wasn’t just feeling embarrassed, it was like whenever I wrote something I would Not Be Having Fun With It because I kept thinking “deadline deadline deadline you need to finish this by the end of this week it’s only 5k words are you saying you can’t come up with a measly chapter in a week you used to be able to write 15 chapters in a month you dog” and I would just force myself to sit in front of my computer for hours and when I finally finished I wasn’t really happy with the final product I would just think “god I need a smoke break” even though I’ve never smoked in my life. and then I’d also get “please update!” messages/comments in the dry periods and, don’t get me wrong I really appreciate that people are reading my stuff, but I’d feel more and more stressed because then I’d automatically think “Oh My God People Are Waiting And I’m Letting Them Down.”

so with all these bad feelings welling up inside me I thought “I need a break.” and that’s what I did. I took like a 3 week break in september/october (I honestly don’t remember because the days have been bleeding together) in hopes that I just needed to rest to get my brain started again! after those 3 weeks I then did the usual routine of writing and updating, but again Things Just Didn’t Feel Right because it felt like I was diving back into that stress inducing spiral of the dreaded Weekly Updates.

I mean, I would get so hung over this stuff because in the back of my mind during my free time I’d be thinking “I could be writing and finishing up both series right now” and you know what? I’d do that. well, I tried at least. I’d force myself to sit and type whenever I had ANY free time because I already had everything planned, I just needed to put words to a page. well, doing that for nights on end was just mentally exhausting me to New Levels. everything I was doing was not sustainable at all.

AND THEN THINGS SLOWLY GOT WORSE because I would have zero confidence in my writing and every week or so I’d get a message in my inbox saying something along the lines of (or rather word for word) “your writing isn’t that good/special/anything new I don’t understand why people are reading it/why you get so many notes/you’re not as funny as you think you are” and at first I would kind of laugh at it and go “oh trust me buddy, I’m wondering the same thing too” and then delete it because I do Not Wish to entertain the thought on my blog, but then I was hitting a new all time low in my mentality and I got another message on the day I deactivated which was a Really Bad Day and it read “your writing isn’t good” and I went back to the chapter I was editing for the day, felt my gut do that twist and I thought “you know what? you’re right. it’s not. goodbye.” pressed the forbidden red button and honestly felt a weight lift off my shoulders because that meant I no longer had to deal with that stupid cycle of constantly updating in order to Feel Something.

I kept thinking “why is this not as fun as it used to be, why am I so stressed out all the time opening that stupid doc and going on my blog?” like I would literally sit down and think about this as if it was a math problem or something. my inadequacies kept rising within me but I would just bottle it up, go to writing and trying to answer messages like nothing was wrong because I really didn’t want to worry anyone or think I was a charity case who needed help, but now that I think about it I really should have talked this out instead keeping my mouth shut. I just thought this was something everyone goes through so I was like whatever it’ll pass. I kept thinking “this shouldn’t be as deep as I’m making it” and brush it aside, but then I kept thinking negatively about my ability to write and literally DREADED sitting down in front of my laptop that I would have to hype myself up in order to get a sentence in. I think the last time I actually felt really proud of something I had written was during the summer...... and then after that it was just downhill.

and listen. I know this is just a Fun endeavor and I really shouldn’t care about what other people think as long as it makes me happy, but along the way I stopped being happy because I started caring Way Too much and putting unrealistic expectations on myself. it’s weird. I know at my Big Age I should have a better mentality, but it’s been eating at me for a while and I just wanted to pull the plug.

okay now the part that a lot of people are wondering: are you going to finish your series? I plan to. I really want to. I think it’d be a waste not to. I’m still feeling pretty conflicted right now with my writing, but I already mapped everything out, and I don’t like to break promises since I already said I was going to do this thing. thanks to anyone who read my works and I’m sorry to have worried you. I just needed to take a step back and think about what’s good for myself.

yeah. so that’s my explanation. this whole thing is so long and for that I’m sorry. if you went through this then pat on the back for you. I don’t know when I’ll come back or how long it will take. I just want time for myself and to not think about anything with regards to writing. like at all. also I only have 1 request: for anyone who downloaded the series from ao3, please do not repost or reupload or redistribute them. please I’m literally begging. I deleted them for a reason and I really don’t like the idea of these stories floating around without my consent. when I do get back into it I’d like to make edits to what I have written. idk if any of my mutuals still want to talk to me after this but feel free to lmk lmfao sorry I know that I sound like I’m off the deep end but I really just need to cool it before I start diving back into a Healthy Relationship With My Writing Hobby lol. why am I so dramatic... SORRY. anyway. I hope you guys are staying happy and healthy during this time. don’t forget that.

#mooshua #shiratorizawa antics #msby black jackals online!

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rotworld · 3 years ago

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my writing process

an anon asked:

What does your writing process look like? Do you outline?

i've actually answered this before, but i'm gonna do it again because i'm not satisfied with my writing-related posts lol i'd like to get better at explaining these things. the short answer is my process is kind of a mess, and i do outline. long answer below the cut. a lot of this is repeated from the other post, but hopefully in a neater way lol

step 1: characters and starting concept. in this post, i talked a bit about plot-driven writing and character-driven writing. basically those things exist on a spectrum and many stories incorporate elements of both, but writers often have a preference or one they're better at. i prefer character-driven writing, so i start with characters because my plot comes from them. around the same time, i come up with a basic concept or vague idea of what i want to do with the characters. most of the time i already have an ending or big finale event in mind.

step 2: outline. my outlines are just summaries of what i want to happen each chapter. to keep things moving, i usually have "anchor points," or big, important plot events. it's important that these are extra fun and exciting scenes that i'm looking forward to writing, because it makes me work hard to get there. making the outline sort of filling in the blanks between. it's like "how do i get to this anchor point? ok i'm there, how do i get to the next one?"

i also like doing timelines, which are just lists of events in chronological order. i end up doing these with fanfics a lot if i'm trying to vaguely follow the canon storyline, making notes for myself so i remember what order things happen. i also do them with big, complicated projects. the face of nirvana for example features characters that have been alive for several hundred years, so i made a timeline of relevant things that happened before the story even starts so i can keep track lol. timelines and outlines are separate, i always do outlines but only do timelines when i need them.

step 3: writing, mini-outlines, and the mangling of my original outline. i did say it was chaotic right lol. when i actually sit down to start writing, i consult my outline. based on that, i make a mini-outline specifically for whatever scene or chapter i'm about to work on. if i think "oh i actually think this thing should happen instead," then i go with it. i think my outlines tend to be a little restricted and i get out of that restricted mindset while i'm writing, so i usually follow my impulses with that kind of thing.

sometimes this just means minor details, but sometimes i end up with pretty drastic changes or entirely new anchor points. this is the messy part, because i need to update my outline to reflect new changes or directions. i like to keep my old notes in case i get stuck later or want to work towards what i had planned originally, so there's a lot of strikethrough and moving things around rather than deleting anything. that's more or less how it goes to the end, just mini-outlining and chopping up the original outline until i get to the last scene.

the 4th step should be editing, but anyone who's been here a while knows i tend to post things "hot off the press" and riddled with typos lmfao sometimes i catch them on a reread once they're posted, the font difference helps somehow. for the most part i treat the things i post here as "hobby writing" and stuff i can relax with. that doesn't mean i don't take it seriously or don't care about it, but i don't give it the same kind of excruciating attention that i do my other writing. hopefully someday i can show off some of that stuff too lol.

#rotpeach answers #rot on writing #i'd describe my own outlining style as doodling on a roadmap #theres a suggestion of guidance but also a lot of impulsive decisions

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joheun-saram · 4 years ago

Text

To Make a Power Couple (knj) | 04

Chapter 4: Cigarette Confetti

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Summary- Y/N and Namjoon get closer as their relationship develops. Also, Y/N suddenly gets too many instagram followers

word count- 8.6k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- R

genre- series, slow burn, fluff, smut, strangers2lovers

warnings- unwanted sexual advances, discussion of mindset post unwanted advances, alcohol consumption, oral sex (m. receiving), hickeys

a.n- okay so this chapter is finally done! Thank you for your patience!! It took me a long time to write the scene with Mr Li because I had to pull from my own experience and that was uncomfy - but I hope you like it. Also, there’s a time skip so keep an eye out for that. Also also, can I just say I love writing this character of Namjoon lol this character is my ideal boyfriend material LMFAO.

Hey Alexa, can you fall in love with your own fictional character? Asking for a friend. Thanks.

Feedback much appreciated! 💕

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sassyuniversitytacopeanut, @rjsmochii, @jinjccns, @joyful-jimin

Good morning, Y/N. Today you have four appointments on your calendar. Your first three appointments are as follows. At 7:30am, you have “Morning stand up with Harry (Cancelled)”, at 12:00pm, you have “Jiyoung Gala Update Lunch”, at 2:00pm, you have “Quarterly Sales Meeting”. The weather in Seoul today is 24 degrees and cloudy. Playing BTS on Spotify.

Namjoon wakes up with a start, Jimin’s airy vocals flowing through the room. He’s confused as to why someone in the dorm was playing their old album. About to scream at whoever (probably Taehyung) was playing the music, he opens his eyes to find your face next to his. It takes him a few seconds to realize where he is, and his face breaks into a goofy grin as he recalls the events of the night before. His arm was numb where you lay on it, your arms around his waist, legs tangled together and he traced his fingers on your side in an effort to wake you up.

He could see you stir as you groggily opened your eyes, looking up at him with a smile that made his heart race. He reached to stroke your face, as you hummed an apology and politely asked your alarm to be quiet. Seems that you were nice even to your robots.

“Sorry about that. Work day, you know?” you shrugged as you snuggled closer. Namjoon couldn’t help chuckle as you yawned into his bare chest that erupted in goosebumps at the sensation. He gently pulled your chin towards him to kiss you good morning. Your face was puffy with sleep, your cheeks squished where they lay on the pillows, and watching you was so adorable that he wanted to wake up next to you everyday.

“You play my music in the morning?” He was elated. Just like the night you met when you accidentally sang him his song, he felt his heart soar. The fact that you woke up everyday to the words he wrote made him not only happy but oddly motivated. It was like he wanted to just run out of bed and write another album so you could have more music to wake up to.

He watched your face turn red at his comment and he couldn’t help but capture your lips in another lazy kiss, his hand soothingly circling your back under your t-shirt, well, his t-shirt. He wanted you to know that there was nothing to be embarrassed by. If only you knew how his heart raced at the discovery.

“That… that’s for research… you know to get to know you?” you were stumbling over your words and he couldn’t help but pull you closer. You were so cute when you were bashful.

“Mhmm... sure...” He hummed, amused. Hey, just because he didn’t want you to feel awkward doesn’t mean that he couldn’t still tease you.

“Okay fine. I like your music okay? You’ve converted me to your cult.” You huffed, pouting your lips, and Namjoon burst out laughing.

“What’s your favourite song?”

“Is this a test?” You looked incredulous, as you looked up at him from the crook of his shoulder. Your hands were resting on his chest, and everywhere your fingers traced their aimless patterns left behind warmth under his skin.

“Hmm.. yes. You better get it right.” It wasn’t really a test, but Namjoon would be lying if he said he wasn’t incredibly curious as to which song caught your eye.

“Can I google it?”

“Wait… you’re gonna google… what your favourite song is?” He had not expected this answer. He felt himself deflate a little, his smiling falling. He supposed you were a new fan, maybe you didn’t remember the title and wanted to look up the lyrics, but you could just ask him, he’d know better than google, surely.

“Yes. I’m gonna google which song you didn’t write and say that one cause your ego is getting too big for this bed.” You booped his nose as you burst out laughing, and he couldn’t stop himself from joining along, his earlier worries disappearing. You always surprised him, and it makes him crave what you’ll say next.

“You’re so evil!” he teased as he tickled your sides, making you laugh and roll around your bed. After a few minutes of your protests, he stopped, now positioned over you. Your eyes were beautiful as they look up at his, tears of mirth lining the corners and breathless from your laughter, and he couldn’t help but kiss you again, molding his lips to your soft ones. He loved that your arms automatically went around his waist as you pulled him closer and deepen the kiss, tracing your tongue with his. He kissed you like that for a few minutes, just relishing being in your presence. Your hands were resting on his chest now, thumbs grazing his nipples, making him shudder. It’s like everytime he kissed you, you put him under a spell and he wanted nothing more than to consume you. How was it that you smell like vanilla and flowers even in the morning? Did you just naturally smell like a fresh garden?

“Good morning” He whispered between his kisses, gazing at you softly.

“Good morning” you responded before closing the distance again and kissing him with passion. He could get used to this.

His hand moved under your shirt to cup your chest, rolling your nipple playfully as he continued to kiss you. Your moan went straight from your lips to his dick as he couldn’t help but roll his hips against yours, craving the friction. Your hands went from his chest to palming him over his boxers and the touch made him groan. He was so incredibly turned on and you had barely even touched him. You were going to be the death of him.

He let you carry on your ministrations as he kissed your neck, enjoying your mewls as he reached what he has realized is your sensitive spot, right where your neck meets your shoulder. He could see the marks he left last night and couldn’t help the pride swelling in his chest. He shouldn’t be so turned on by the bruises he left, but he can’t help his kinks. It proved to him that he didn’t imagine last night.

He was slightly taken aback as you slipped your hand in his underwear and started stroking him. He moaned against your neck as pleasure shot through him.

“Want to make you feel good.” you murmured next to his ear, your kisses on his neck making him flush. “Lay back…” He wanted to let you but he wanted to make you feel good first, hear you screaming his name as he made you come undone. He one upped you by placing his own hand in your panties, groaning at how wet you were for him.

“You first.” He said, more sternly than he intended but he didn’t notice as you rut your hips against his hand. Your hand didn’t stopped stroking him and if he was honest it was making him lose his concentration. He removed his hand from your underwear, ignoring your whines, as he stilled your hand, pinning it over your head.

“No… I wanna taste you… Please?” You looked at him with your eyes wide and he was powerless to your pleading. He held his ground though, not letting you take control. Not until you mewled another please and pushed against his chest. He laid back against the pillows as you straddled him, kissing him deeply before making your way down his body. You kissed his chest leaving a light mark near his heart that made him sigh. He was sure that mark was deeper than it looks as his heart beat faster the closer you get to his dick. You kissed his belly before kissing down his clothed length making him groan deeply.

“Baby, stop teasing before I make you stop.” He was testing the waters, grinning when he saw you sit up immediately, biting your lip before pulling his boxers down to his thighs, following his orders. He hissed as you kissed his throbbing head, before immediately taking him in your mouth. It felt unbelievably good, your soft tongue lapping at his length as your cheeks hollow. He couldn’t take his eyes off you and almost lost it when you looked straight in his eyes, taking him as deep as you can. You moaned around him and the sensation made heat travel through his body. His hand found purchase in your hair as you bobbed on him, making him grunt loudly, losing his senses as he guided your head at a pace of his liking.

“Stop Y/N… stop… I’m gonna cum…” He moaned as he pulled your hair, a little too aggressively, making you whine around him. You released him with a loud pop.

“Cum in my mouth, baby” you were smirking at him as if you knew the effect you were having on him. Of course you knew, it was obvious by how loud he was breathing. His cock twitched in your hand at your comment, and he decided to let you have your fun, mentally noting to make you beg for him next time.

“Oh fuck… You’re so good to me baby” he panted as you once again started sucking him off. You were more enthusiastic this time, the sounds of your mouth ricocheting off the walls as you sucked him while your hand played with his balls, cupping them, making him see stars. He couldn’t take it anymore and with a loud grunt, he announced his end and felt his balls draining into your mouth. He watched from under his arm that rested on top of his face as you swallowed him, licking the remains off him as if he was the best popsicle you’ve tasted. It made him lose his mind, the sight making him moan softly.

You made your way back to him and as you laid on the pillows with a satisfied grin, he kissed you slowly, making sure you could feel his gratitude for what may have been the best blowjob he’s experienced.

“Sorry if I pulled your hair too hard.” He apologized as he stroked your head gently, one hand cupping your face.

“Don’t worry about it. I like it rough.” Although he had literally just cum, he felt the blood rush downwards again at your words.

“Fuck… You’re gonna kill me, you know?” He said as he kissed you again, fiercely, his hands ripping your panties off, relishing your gasp. He was determined to make you cum.

And he did, twice, once in bed and once in the shower.

As you were getting dressed in front of the mirror in your closet, he heard you gasp.

“Oh my god Joon! What the fuck?” Worriedly, he entered the closet, his jeans half undone and looked at you dressed in your pants and bra staring at yourself.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, as he moved closer to you.

“You animal! There’s like no concealer in the world to cover these!” You frowned, your mouth turning into a cute pout as you poke the hickeys that litter your neck and chest. He couldn’t help but smile at his handiwork as he hugged your waist from behind placing his head on your shoulder and kissing the mark on your neck.

“I’m sorry baby” His face however has no trace of apology as he grinned against your skin, feeling the blush that started at your neck.

“Fuck… I hate turtlenecks” you turned around in his arms, your hands going around his neck as you pouted at him exaggeratedly, and he wanted to go for another round. The power you had over him was overwhelming.

“I bet you look really good in a turtleneck.” He captured your lips in a soft kiss, smiling against your lips. He knew both of you had to get back to the real world soon but he just wanted to hole up in your room all day, all week, all year, just ravishing you.

You were interrupted by your phone ringing as you answered it on a speaker that rings through somewhere in your closet. He really has to ask you how many speakers you have in this place sometime.

“Hi, this is Y/N.” You spoke, your voice cold and formal and he was kind of taken aback by the change of your tone as you pushed his lips off your shoulder gently, still encircled in each other’s arms.

“Y/N! Are you okay? It’s 7:25… You’re never late!” He heard a familiar voice through the speaker although he couldn’t quite place it.

“Sorry Siwon! I’m feeling a bit unwell. I’m going to work from home this morning. I’ll come by around lunch for the meeting with Jiyoung though!” He brightened up at that comment, his grip around your waist tightening at the prospect of more time with you.

“Sick? Sure, sure… Tell Namjoon I said hi!” He watched your jaw drop as you awkwardly started coughing involuntarily. He kneould he shouldn’t but he can’t help tease you as a “Hey, man” escaped his lips, making you swat at him, signalling him to shut up.

“Oh shit. Am I on speaker?” Siwon audibly gasped into the phone and Namjoon burst out laughing, enjoying your reaction as you quickly bid goodbye.

“Okay, no coffee for you!” You huffed as you put on a t-shirt and make your way to the kitchen.

“Aww… babe!” Namjoon whined as he followed you, tugging his own shirt on to find you pouring steaming coffee into your mug. “Wait how did you make that so quick?”

He watched you smirk as you sipped on your coffee, making a show of how delicious it was, before you relented and pour him one.

“Magic.” You said smugly and he made a mental note to get you to teach him your tricks for his own house.

After breakfast, you spent the morning snuggling on the couch and reading the news, the easy domesticity of the moment not lost on Namjoon. Usually he wouldn’t even stay the night, but it seems like you made him break all the rules without even trying. He wondered why that was, why he was so drawn to you in such a short time. No one he had been with in the past made him feel this way, at least not only a week into knowing them.

“What are you thinking about?” you broke him out of his reverie. He hadn’t realized he’d been staring across the room. He didn’t know how much time had passed.

“This…” He gestured between the two of you, watching your eyes follow his hand from where your head rested against his chest.

“What? You’ve never read the news before?” You pointed at the iPad that the two you were meant to be reading from.

“You know what I mean…” He trailed off rubbing his neck, unsure why he even began the conversation. He should’ve just lied and said something funny.

“Sorry… I tend to use humour when I’m uncomfortable...” You got up from where you were leaning against him to sit upright on the couch, gaze averted.

“You’re uncomfortable?” His eyes widened as he tried to figure out why. Sure this all seemed to move way too fast, but you seemed to have found a rhythm with him this morning. He was slightly panicked that he had misread that. The thought that being around him made you uncomfortable made his heart drop to his knees.

“No… and that makes me uncomfortable” He watched you as you fiddled with the rips in your jeans. Your answer made him relax, pushing aside some of his worries. Knowing that he wasn’t the only one feeling lost with this new found comfort was oddly calming.

“I know what you mean. This seems… too easy, right?” He reached over to stop your fidgeting hands.

“Yeah… but I’m no expert. My last relationship was like three years ago” You shrugged.

“What happened? I mean… if you want to tell me”

“Yeah… it just didn’t work out. I was too busy for him sometimes and he couldn’t understand. He blamed me for not prioritizing our relationship. I was just starting out though… it was… hard” Your smiled at him sheepishly, a little melancholy behind your eyes, that made him want to hug it away.

“I get that. I had a lot of relationships that ended up the same way.” He thought about all his past partners, all the fights that led to nowhere because he couldn’t find time in his schedule to even resolve them. All the times he would receive an angry text and not be able to respond till hours later which only exacerbated the problems. All his exes that told him he was too self-centered, too narcissistic for focusing on his career, and for a long time he believed them, the guilt kept him up nights on end.

“Koren dating is also harder than Canadian dating,” you joked. He could sense you were trying to lighten the mood again, and he intertwined your fingers where they rested on your knee, before playing along.

“Wow… did you just stereotype my entire country?”

“Oops?” You chuckled lightly, your eyes brightening as you shrugged. “What about your last relationship?”

“It was about a year ago. We worked together, but we didn’t work together. There wasn’t really a reason. It just kind of… fizzled out. Although I think I was to blame.” He didn’t know how you’d react to this and he rubbed his neck nervously.

“Why do you say that?” You leaned closer, and he could surprisingly feel his nerves melting away at your proximity.

“I just would forget to keep her updated on my life. I know it sounds terrible.”

“Nah. It just sounds human. You weren’t in love.” His eyes widened at your response. He knew now that what he felt then wasn’t love but in the moment he had thought she was the one. Well, until she wasn’t.

“I thought I was” He admitted with a shrug.

“I don’t think you’d forget her if you were.” You were looking at him now, smiling slightly, your eyes shining as your thumb rubbed soothing circles on his. Somehow again, you had managed to sound poetic without meaning to - he didn’t know how you managed to do that so easily.

“I guess you’re right. Fuck… this is weird.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not usually this honest.”

“Wow. Must be the veritaserum I slipped in your drink.” You laughed as you reached to gently put your hand on his shoulder. He enjoyed the touch, it somehow made him feel safe. Safe to share his secrets.

“Is that a Harry Potter reference, you dork?” He could feel the mood lightening again and he realized that your ability to seamlessly switch from uncomfortable topics to humour was at least a part of the reason he felt so comfortable in your presence.

“I’m glad you trust me enough to be honest.” Your hand moved from his shoulder to rest against his cheek, and he couldn’t help but lean into it.

“Honestly, I think it’s because of you.” He watched your face turn to confusion, so he continued. ”You being so upfront makes me wanna do the same. Why are you so honest with me?”

“Because there’s no reason for us to continue this if we can’t be honest.” You smiled softly as you shrugged lightly, still stroking his cheek, and he felt his heart fill with warmth. “I’ve spent too much of my life pretending to be someone else for people to like me. So I’m testing my theory. If I’m honest with you and you like me, maybe this thing is worth it.”

“I do like you.” He really did. He hadn’t felt this strong a connection in a while. Someone who understood him without pretending to, or trying to appease him. Someone he could talk about the good and bad without judgement.

“You haven’t seen all the warts yet.” You averted your gaze, and he couldn’t help but cup your face and make you look at him.

“I’ve seen you naked, you don’t have any warts.” He tried your approach at humour as he kissed you on the nose.

“You are so cheesy!” You swat at him gently before kissing him lightly on the lips. He felt his heart skip a beat at the small gesture. “But seriously, thank you for being so open with me.” You looked at him adoringly, and he mirrored you.

He kissed you at that. Both of you enjoying the chaste kiss without deepening it. The conversation helped you both feel less uncomfortable with the comfortable.

His phone rang, interrupting the sweet moment, his manager asking where to send the car so he wouldn’t be late for the meeting that morning. Before leaving, you made plans to meet up again that weekend, and Namjoon felt that three days was too long without seeing you. He didn’t know why, but he hadn’t even left your apartment yet and he already missed you.

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When you reached the restaurant for lunch with Jiyoung that afternoon, you still had a smile on your face. It seemed to have been permanently etched on your face since Namjoon left. You thought about your date and how it seemed to have been a thousand dates rolled into one. It felt like you’ve known him forever, and barring from Jiyoung, you hadn’t felt that way about a person before. Someone you connected with instantly, someone whose presence made you immediately calmer. He seemed to have crashed all the walls around you in a very short time and although that thought should scare you, it instead made you excited.

Spotting Jiyoung at a table you made your way across the restaurant to her, greeting her and the server, an old woman in her 60s, most likely the owner, that seemed to have appeared out of thin air. After ordering your entrees, your best friend and PR manager jumped right into business.

“So you’re famous. Congrats!” She did a little dance as she announced the news.

“What?” You were confused. Last you checked you had 2000 followers on your social media, which was run by Jiyoung and Siwon, on account of you being a “boomer” - their words, not yours.

“After the gala, a couple of magazines, courtesy of me, decided to do a piece on you. So congrats on your 200k followers!” She seemed giddy, excitedly jumping up and down as she clapped along. That was quite a follower growth and it led to her going into a twenty minute strategy talk on how to leverage your personal brand for the company. You were glad that she was excited, but if you were being honest you hated the limelight. The idea that someone’s “fame” could be decided by the number of likes of a photo posing at a restaurant made your skin crawl.

“Okay so we’re going to schedule a photoshoot sometime in the next two weeks and take a few photos for the next few months of uploads. Of course, make sure to take photos every time you go somewhere fun too, like I don’t know, one of your concerts you’re obsessed with or art galleries.” Jiyoung continued regardless of your groans.

“Do I have to?” You truly did not have time for this, your schedule is already overflowing. The whole idea of curating a feed made you feel stressed.

“Yes. It’s the game, Y/N. You have to play it” She replied sagely, as she slurped her noodles.

“You know all the photos will be of me holed up at the office. I’m not that interesting...” You played with your food as you pouted. Your comment wasn’t born out of low self-esteem, it’s just what you believed. Regardless of the media perceptions of the glamorous life of a CEO, you knew that at the end of the day most you did was sleep, attend meetings, and drink copious amounts of coffee. Occasionally you dabbled in your hobbies, but with the company and non-profit growing at the speed they were, there was barely any time for that. You doubted you’d be able to enjoy any of the fun till after quite a few more years when the title will become less heavy and you’d have more help.

“Don’t be stupid! You, my friend, are a young, fun, single woman! The world deserves to be envious of it!” Jiyoung dismissed you easily, shaking her hand at your protests. “Speaking of fun, let’s go clubbing Saturday, it’s been too long since you got laid.”

As soon as she finished her sentence you felt heat rise up your face, unconsciously bringing your hand up to your turtleneck covered neck. To make matters worse, your throat also decided now to work at that moment, making you choke on your rice.

“Oh my god! You minx! You got laid didn’t you?” Jiyoung loudly exclaimed, much to your dismay and of the other patrons who seemed peeved at hearing your bedroom adventures while they ate lunch.

“Please stop…” You looked around awkwardly apologizing to the old man next to you who looked at you with disgust. Great!

“Who was it? Where did you meet? Tinder? Did you go to a club without me? Was it a client?” The questions were endless.

“If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone, not a soul.” You were going to regret this, you knew it, but you’d be lying if it didn’t excite you to share the news with Jiyoung. She was your favourite female friend and even though on the outside, your friendship may seem mismatched to some, she truly understood you better than most people. She had been there when your last relationship ended, coaxing you back to your feet after weeks of self-destruction. You trusted her.

“Did you sleep with a married man?” She whispered, thankfully finally aware that you two were in the middle of a popular restaurant during peak lunch hours.

“Umm… no. Do you remember Namjoon from the party?” Namjoon from the party? Good job, real subtle Y/N.

“Namjoon?” You watched as realization dawned on her face, her face going from being scrunched in confusion, to wide eyed surprise, to what it is now; a smug smile. “I was wondering why your Spotify showed you suddenly listening to BTS…”

“Okay you can’t make fun of that too!” you whined, your morning faux pas still too fresh in your mind, as you buried your face in your hands.

“He made fun of you?” Jiyoung was cackling, before she started digging for details. “Man after my own soul! So was he good? When are you seeing him again? Are you dating him? Oh my god this is so exciting!” She is fully squealing and slapping your arm, making you wince.

“He was… amazing” you tell her your face flaring at the memories of last night. “And we’re going on another date.”

“Ooo date number two!”

“Well… technically four if you count the party?”

“Okay. What the fuck? You’ve been holding out on me! Spill!”

And so you do, sharing your interactions with Namjoon over the past week. It felt nice to reminisce about them, even though it was not that long ago. You were so into him, it was worrying. You were beyond excited to see him again, but your last conversation still weighed in your head. He was right. It just felt too easy, how you had met, and seemingly couldn’t get enough of each other. You were suspicious.

“Stop overthinking this, Y/N. It’s good that things are easy! You deserve easy!” Jiyoung cut through your rant. You had almost forgotten that you were speaking out loud.

“It’s not just me, he feels the same way.” You pouted, trying to defend your stance.

“Then you both belong together with your stupid ass overthinking.”

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Y/N: Thanks for dinner tonight. I had a really good time.

Namjoon: Me too!

Namjoon: Speaking of, when can I see you again?

Y/N: Wow. We’ve barely digested our food, Joon

Namjoon: You’re mean! I just like hanging out with you

Y/N: I’m kidding! Tuesday?

Namjoon: Suddenly I love Tuesdays

Y/N: Shut up you dork!

Namjoon: Says the girl obsessed with Batman

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Y/N: What the hell! How do you do photoshoots all the time. This is CRINGE.

Namjoon: Is that today? Yes! SEND ME THE PICTURES!!!!

Y/N: Fuck no. These are so awkward!

Namjoon: Come on! Send! I bet you look hot ;)

Y/N: Nope. Never. Never. NEVER.

Namjoon: I’ll just text Jiyoung for them

Y/N: You don’t even have her number

Y/N: Do you?

Y/N: KIM NAMJOON ANSWER ME

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Namjoon: Did I leave my phone at your place last night?

Y/N: I don't think so

Namjoon: I can’t believe I lost my phone again!!!

Y/N: Wait how are you texting me right now?

Namjoon: … nvm

Y/N: Omg. You're an idiot.

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Y/N: Okay that hike was harder than you said it’d be!

Y/N: I’m dying :(

Namjoon: Aw baby. I’m sorry!

Y/N: You owe me. You’re paying for my masseuse

Namjoon: Why pay for one when I’m better than any you’ll ever get?

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Y/N: I miss you :(

Namjoon: I miss you too

Y/N: Come over?

Namjoon: I have to wake up at 6 for a shoot :(

Y/N: I wake up at 6 every day

Namjoon: On my way

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Namjoon: How’s work going?

Y/N: Terrible :) I hate my life :)

Namjoon: You’re scary when you send emojis like that

Y/N: Wow. Thank you. You’re so nice to me.

Namjoon: Sorry!

Namjoon: What’s stressing you?

Y/N: Just deadlines… SO MANY DEADLINES

Namjoon: Aw baby. Have you eaten? I can come by with food

Y/N: Aren’t you busy? You have your comeback in a few months

Namjoon: Nah. I got the rest of the day off

Y/N: That’s… suspicious... Why?

Namjoon: I’m at the hospital

Y/N: WTF. I’m calling. Pick up.

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You checked yourself out in the reflective elevator doors, as you helped Harry adjust his tie, while Siwon rattled on about the restaurant you were headed to. Harry and you had been dodging your “celebratory” drinks with Mr Li for over a month and a half since the meeting where he signed the contract. He finally trapped you both during a networking event last week and had you set the date. To say you were both very much not looking forward to this evening would be an understatement. It took every ounce of willpower in you to stay as you made your way to your private table at the high end Japanese restaurant.

Mr Li, as per usual, was late to the dinner he had forced upon you. Sitting next to Harry, you both tried to devise a plan to escape as soon as possible. As soon as dinner ended, Harry was going to pretend that Jen was ill and since he was your ride back, you both had no choice but to “begrudgingly” end the night. The idea was foolproof, or so the both of you thought.

Here is a list of reasons why it was not foolproof.

One, upon arrival, Mr Li ordered shots for the table and after Harry used the excuse that he was driving you both home (you wanted to set it up so it wouldn’t be a surprise as you left), Mr Li got excited that you would be his new drinking buddy. He poured shot after shot, even after you mentioned that you were going to get a drink - hoping to rely on your ice tea in a whiskey glass trick - he refused to let you not drink anything other than shots of sake. Usually, you wouldn’t let someone dictate your drinking but you didn’t want to seem rude, and so you played along till you felt much too tipsy.

Two, Mr Li requested your server to stagger the dinner courses since it was a “night of partying” and as the third course of sashimi was served, he took the liberty of sitting next to you because apparently your fish looked fresher. He then proceeded to steal from your plate while making uncomfortable eye contact with you and putting his gross hands on your thigh. When you removed his hand from your thigh he had the audacity to suggest that you were playing hard to get. The urge to vomit had never been stronger.

Three, and this is where everything falls apart. When at the end of dinner, the lovely Jen calls to bail you and Harry out, Mr Li insists that Harry drives back alone and that he drives you home. Somehow, you both had not thought of this very basic flaw in your plan. With you running out of excuses, it was soon evident that you had no choice but to stay. You knew Harry, and you knew that he would call no less than ten minutes later with an emergency on your own or get Siwon out of bed to run to you. He would rescue you, you had faith. In the meantime you had to endure a drunk Mr Li trying to hit on you.

Time seemed to move slow as he drunkenly asked you if you had a boyfriend. Knowing his misogynistic self, you should’ve lied and said yes, the only thing he would probably understand would be that another man had a claim on you, but your tipsy self thought honesty was the best policy. As soon as you said no, it seemed that he took it as an invite, pulling you into an awkward hug, grabbing at your ass, trying to lift you to his seat. His movements were so swift that it left you momentarily paralyzed. You felt ice in your veins as the intense feeling of your personal space being so blatantly violated took over you. It felt as if a million ants were crawling under your skin, your stomach turning. You tried to get out of his grip but it was too strong, as he continued to massage your behind. You felt trapped, your mouth running dry, as anger took over. You were done being polite.

With a strong shove, you stood up from your seat and grabbed your jacket as you looked at him straight in the eye, hoping your glare was enough to get the message across. It was not.

“Come on Y/N. I signed such a big contract for you the least you could do is suck me off.” He stared at you sleazily, the liver spot above his eyebrow moving up and down as he wagged them.

“I’m sorry Mr Li, but this is very inappropriate. I’m going to leave.” You were nicer than your instincts were telling you to be. If he wasn’t your client, you would have already kicked him in the balls or better yet broken his nose, although knowing this creep, he’d probably have a kink for it.

“You’re a fucking bitch you know that?” He spat, his words filled with venom.

“Excuse me?” Each moment that you stayed in this room, made you angrier, the rage pumping itself through you, ringing in your ears.

“You think you’re successful because you’re smart? Don’t kid yourself, Y/N. Everyone knows that your clients only sign because they think you’ll fuck them.” He scoffed.

You knew if you stayed there longer, you would surely ruin this contract for your company, if not get sued for punching his ugly little face in so you grabbed your phone and bag and made your way out of the restaurant, tossing a curt goodbye his way.

Your vision was dark as you made your way through the streets. You were so enraged you were shaking. You knew what would fix this. Cigarettes. Without a second thought you made your way into the nearest convenience store, grabbing a bottle of soju and a pack, before walking to your favourite place - the rooftop of your office building.

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You sat at the roof, contemplating the earlier events, the cigarette pack in hand. You hated how you felt in this moment. Powerless. There was no other word for it. You hated feeling small and insignificant. You had built your life up in a way that ensured you wouldn’t have to deal with these feelings but here you were at almost midnight, searching the faint stars in the sky for serenity.

Anger coursed through your veins as you tried to steel yourself, fists clenching hard enough for red semicircles to be engraved on your palms. Sometimes you hated being a woman. What gave anyone the right to dismiss your hard work and accomplishments because they valued your tits more. You were coursing with negativity, your mouth tasting of poison, as you chugged the soju. You still felt his slimy hands on your ass and his words echoed through your mind. If only your deal was not at stake you would’ve kicked him so hard in the balls, he’d never be able to reproduce. The world is much too beautiful to have his offsprings tainting it.

You usually don’t let these things affect you as much. It’d be a lie to say these moments were few and far in between. In fact, they took place more often than you’d like to remember. The amount of men who had dismissed you or called you being a CEO a great “marketing move in today’s PC world” was astronomical. You would usually brush them off and pretend they never happened, never letting it affect you, but something about the way he sneered made you so vulnerable that for a minute you let your guard down and believed him.

“You think you’re successful because you’re smart? Don’t kid yourself, Y/N. Everyone knows that your clients only sign because they think you’ll fuck them.” You snapped a cigarette in half, watching the contents sprinkle out of the white casing as you rolled it in your fingers and coaxed a bigger mess. You tossed it across the floor, watching the wind pick up the light scraps and scatter them around like confetti. What a great celebration, you thought as you rolled your eyes.

“Y/N…?” you heard Namjoon call from behind you.

You regretted messaging him after your dinner. You didn’t even know why you had told him. He was not your boyfriend, technically he wasn’t even your friend. You had only gone on a few dates, and although you felt closer to him than you had anybody you had dated in a long while, you were not ready for him to see you this way. It had barely been over a month and a half. You didn’t feel confident enough to face him. The Y/N he knew was the successful, flirty, witty version you had worked hard to portray. You don’t know how he would react to this self-hating mess of you. Maybe he’d run away. You deserved that much. Hell, maybe he didn’t even buy the version you showed him, only here for the tits. You were bitter.

“I’m sorry you came all this way. I’m fine, you can go home.” You couldn’t face him - not in this state. You stared at your hands, deepening the crescents on your palm as if willing the skin to break. You saw his shoes in front of you, unlaced blue Nikes, attached to blue striped pajama pants with cartoon koalas. Had you forced him to get out of bed? You felt a bubble of guilt rise within your chest. You were such a shitty person to bring him into this. He deserved better than to be on a cold rooftop on a Friday night in the middle of his comeback preparations.

You were ready to ask him leave again as you heard him settle next to you. You looked up at his face, his eyes softened with concern behind his wide rimmed glasses as he sat crossed leg, his hands in his lap. You opened the pack to grab another cigarette, snapping it in half again and tossing it half heartedly across the floor. You felt defeated, the emotional exhaustion of the night weighing on your shoulders.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked softly, his voice almost a whisper.

“I don’t know,” you said, matching his volume. There was no one here and it’s not like anyone could hear you off of this fifty storey building, but somehow you only had the strength to whisper.

“Take your time” he answered. He looked like he meant it. He sat there looking at you, giving you space. His phone buzzed a few times and he ignored it. Instead, he just patiently looked at you, his face neutral for what felt like hours.

Somehow his patience gave you courage to open up, and you told him the events of the night. He never interrupted, or even moved. The only way you’d know he was not suddenly a statue was by the way his jaw slowly tensed as you got to the reason you were so upset, all your doubts and insecurities filling the air in a tumble of fast spoken words.

“I don’t even know why this is making me so angry. It is not like this is the first time this has happened to me.” You chuckled dryly as you looked up at him. He looked angry and you felt nervous. Perhaps you shared too much. You wouldn’t blame him for getting angry at how stupid your reason was for getting him out of bed.

“What’s his name?” he asked, his eyes narrowed. You were surprised at his question. This was the first time he spoke since you started talking about twenty minutes ago.

“Why?”

“I’m going to kill him.” He said flatly, eye ablaze and jaw set.

“Joon…” you trailed, unsure what to say. He wasn’t unjustified in his threat. On your way to the roof, you yourself had devised about a thousand ways to get away with murder.

“No. He’s an asshole and I’m going to kill him for making you feel this way.” He looked less angry now, and more upset, sighing as he looked at you. You chuckled humorlessly. His comment made you feel better, made you feel less alone and stupid for wanting to take your anger out at the perpetuator. At least you’d have someone to carry the body with if you decided to act on your homicidal fantasies.

“Can I give you a hug?” He asked tentatively, his hand reached towards you as he turned looking at you closely. as if worried you might snap at him.

“Joon, you don’t have to ask,” you murmured as you scooted closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He reacted immediately, pulling you into him tightly, his chin over your head. Your face was pressed against his chest and you inhaled his woodsy scent, feeling instantly more calm.

“I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. A man touched you without your permission and I didn’t know how you felt about being close to another today.” He whispered against your hair, kissing the top of your head. Your heart instantly warmed, tears pricking your eyes. No one had ever been this considerate to you before, so respectful. The fact that he thought you might feel uncomfortable around him just because of that asshole made your heart break. You pushed out of the hug and cupped his face.

“Don’t you dare compare yourself to that asshole.” You were angry that not only did that sorry excuse for a man made you feel small, he made Namjoon feel like you wouldn’t want him.

“And don’t you dare feel like you’re not worthy because of that asshole.” He kissed your forehead gently before bringing you into another bone-crushing hug, momentarily knocking the air out of your lungs. His words made you feel warm, and brought a lump to your throat. It felt oddly cathartic to have the man you had come to admire tell you you were enough. You felt the tears you had been holding in all night escape slowly. You held him tighter as his t-shirt became your makeshift tissue, silently crying for what felt like hours while he stroked your hair gently.

When you could talk again without your voice breaking, you broke the embrace. His shirt was stained with your tears and mascara, and suddenly you felt very awkward for your blatant display of emotions.

“I’m sorry I called you here so late,” you apologized sheepishly, realizing how late it was and how silly you felt for making him jump out of bed.

“Please don’t apologize. I’m glad you called me.” He wiped your face of the tears that had failed to be absorbed by the t-shirt, smiling slightly as he leaned in to give you another peck on your forehead.

“You’re in your pajamas,” you pointed out, laughing slightly, wanting to remove some of the awkwardness you felt at having bawled in front of him for so long.

“I didn’t want to keep you waiting for too long.” He shrugged, giving you a smile that melted your heart. You had realized this before but it dawned on you again that to you Namjoon was comfort. He was like a warm blanket to cozy under in a cool room, keeping the monsters at bay.

You reached out and kissed him, slowly pulling him in by his shirt, avoiding his glasses as you tilted your head. The kiss was gentle - it was sweet and warm. Unlike the passionate ones you had shared before, ones that would light you on fire, this was comfortable, like a bonfire rather than a forest fire. His lips were chapped against yours and his tongue tasted like toothpaste as he smiled against your lips.

“You didn’t smoke!” He exclaimed when you separated, pulling you into another hug, his arms around your head. The pride in his voice made you laugh.

“I told you, I don’t smoke anymore,” you commented as you grinned against his chest.

“Then what’s the pack for?” He seemed puzzled.

“Oh… I was going to but I didn’t want to break my two year streak.” You shrugged. He beamed at you as he pulled you in for another kiss, taking his time to taste you. It felt like he was savouring you, his fingers tangled in your hair on the nape of your neck and his other hand placed gently on your waist.

When you came up for air he giggled, his forehead against yours. “I’m proud of you for not breaking your streak,” he said, making your cheeks flare at his sincerity. “Let’s get you home.”

“Do you want to walk instead of grabbing a cab?”

“Always.” He held your hand as you both stand up and make your way downstairs.

You noticed him shivering slightly as you exited the building and it finally dawned on you that he was dressed in just a t-shirt. It was not the middle of winter but it was certainly too chilly for not wearing a sweater. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt in your chest as you were currently dressed in not one but two sweaters. Stopping him, you took off your oversized sweater and handed it to him.

“What are you doing?” He looked at you, confused as you pushed the sweater in his hands.

“You seem cold.”

“That’s supposed to be my move.” He laughed.

“Hey I’m wearing like two sweaters! Plus, I feel bad about dragging you out here and forcing you to walk.” You looked at your shoes, suddenly feeling shy.

“Don’t feel bad, baby.” He lifted your chin up to place a quick peck on your lips after looking around to make sure no one's walking by on the deserted street. “Also, I don’t think this will fit me.” He chuckled, pushing his frames further up his nose.

“It’s oversized! Just try it, you’re shivering!”

“I’m an oversized human!” He exclaimed but started to put his arms through the sleeves. The sweater looked hilariously small on his frame, even with only one sleeve on. As he zipped it up, it resembled a rashguard more than a sweater, his t-shirt flaring out from the bottom, the material straining against his arms and back. The stress of the night washed away as you doubled over in laughter, your face streaking with new joyous tears at the sight.

“See I told you it was too small!” He grinned sheepishly.

“This is amazing, you look great Joonie” you managed to wheeze out in between your laughter.

At that he took your hand and walked the ten blocks to your apartment. The night was filled with a comfortable silence broken only by little musings as you both took in the quiet surroundings of the financial district after hours. As you neared your street, Namjoon broke the silence once again.

“Why did you message me tonight?” His voice was contemplative, as his thumb grazed yours.

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have” You earlier guilt was surfacing again, as you thought about why you told him what happened when usually the first person you’d tell in this situation would be Jiyoung or Harry.

“I told you - I’m glad you did. I was just curious why.”

“I… I don’t know. You’re the first person I wanted to see.” You sighed, getting uncomfortable with the line of questioning. You didn’t want him to ask why he was the first person you thought of because you weren’t ready to be even more vulnerable tonight, not ready to admit the space he had made in your heart over the last month. He was quiet for a few moments, his eyebrows scrunched in concentration as if he were solving a complex math problem, before he spoke.

“Do you remember when I sprained my wrist and had to go to the hospital a few weeks ago?” You didn’t expect this subject change, but gladly welcomed it.

“Yeah…”

“Well… you’re the first person I wanted to see then too. I mean before I knew it was just a sprain and I was panicking.” He squeezed your hand in his as you both exited the elevator on to your hallway, and looked at you, his gaze soft. “What do you think that means?”

“That we’re even?” You smiled, hoping to break this unknown tension that had come between you all of a sudden as you stopped at your door. You fumbled with your keycode, having to enter the password twice before making your way inside, Namjoon following behind you, as you both slipped out of your shoes and into slippers. Before you could leave the entryway, he gently held on your elbow to stop you, fixing you with another one of his soft gazes and a smile that made your heart flutter.

“I was thinking it means that you’re my girlfriend.” You could hear your heart rev up as you looked at him for any signs of teasing. There were none. Usually you would respond back with something along the lines of him never asking, but with the night you had just had all you could think about was how happy you were to finally call him yours. Without further hesitation you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him into a kiss, which after a little surprise, he returned. It was reminiscent of the first time you had kissed, but this time instead of awkward butterflies, your heart was filled with a comfortable glow. His lips were familiar against yours and his scent wrapped your senses in a warm cocoon.

“Mmm… Boyfriend.” you said against his lips, grinning, as he kissed you again, his hands under your thighs as he lifted you and carried you to bed, surprisingly avoiding bumping into the doorframe this time.

That night as you slept under the projected milky way on your ceiling with his breath tickling your ear as he snored lightly, you felt yourself give Namjoon a part of your heart you had hidden away for a very long time.

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