#one day i will make short oc posts again but until then i have too much to get out of my system agsjsndh
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alright so here's the current plan with the nominations to the main tourney, not the oc tourney. tomorrow will decide if i'm closing them early or not. if we get a bunch of submissions and it turns out the last 2 days were just slow, then they'll continue to stay open until friday at least. if we continue only getting a handful of submissions, then submissions will close wednesday the 10th, 11:59 pm PST
#-mx narrative#again oc tourney WILL be open until at least friday. i am not going to suddenly cut that one short#if i am being entirely honest the main reason i want to close submissions is because i am Extremely Tired and need things to do#and for the last couple days watching submissions come in and tallying them has been my thing to do#so if they're trickling off i have immediately run out of things to do with my time#if i close them then i'll at least be able to start prepping the tourney#i do understand today was solar eclipse day in north america tho so of course things are gonna be slow which is why i'm giving it tomorrow#if you want to try to make sure submissions stay open for longer for whatever reason then#share the nominations post around or submit a bunch of guys 👍#and unrelated to that if you want to help me with the fact that there is nothing to do on my phone in bed then perhaps shoot me some asks#can be about whatever. i am simply so bored and too tired to do much#some guy joust
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sky/irias is THE funniest doomed aro/ace miscommunication crush ive been thinking abt it for two days. irias who tries his best to make sky comfortable inbtwn the mission arc mess, clocking the ptsd and inviting her out on quiet walks whenever camp seems to suffocate her, and before he knows it finding himself enamored with the way she comes out of her shell then, how she lights up whenever she spots him, her terrible sense of humor (bonus points for bullying jack at every corner) until he's genuinely infatuated w/ her, not in serious love, but the way you long to meet someone and their attention and smile make you feel all warm inside. the overwhelming urge to put an arm around her waist as they walk but he's all too well aware of how she shrinks away whenever jack touches her so casually. but it's easy to get confused, to get the wrong idea, how could he not when sky imprints on him like a lost baby bird, drawn to his kindness in jumie's absence, and it is more than that. a natural curiosity after an extremely sheltered life at the palace and another, more nascent desire underneath. a fascination with his piercings but putting her fingers in his mouth sparks something vry different in both of them than when she did the same (much younger) with arianna. and it doesn't help that she keeps stealing glances, at those piercings, his arms, glimpses of body that light a fire in her that is entirely absent whenever jack strips down to go sit in a river. being around irias simply feels good and while she thinks she's being subtle, irias is rapidly approaching terminal crush velocity bc ofc he notices all those stolen glances, lingering, wanting, wanting the same thing? doomed to never resolve bc the events of nighthearts fracture any sort of plot structure that wld have allowed them to have a proper goodbye when irias leaves for issei, so all of this stays a warm but haunting memory for both
#one day i will make short oc posts again but until then i have too much to get out of my system agsjsndh#rejoice!! in being able to type essays again#shadowblogging#jack makes relentless fun of sky during seed arc over the fact that she didn't know irias liked her rip#which is vry funny considering his own dead end romance w shina but yk. but also like#it's for the best bc if she had known it probably wld have put her off too much. nd being around irias was so vital for her#also played a huge role in cementing her taste in men lol. sometimes it's healthy to goon from a distance when ur strength control is still#dire to say the least. smth smth world's most dangerous handjobs but i digress LMAO#her type is so funny it's literally either [redacted redacted] or [redacted] www
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blooming wallflowers (m) | knj
⟶ Summary | Your life has been in shambles with only your two sweet girls keeping you strong enough to carry on. It has been a while since the flame of desire you once had within you dim into almost nothing, until the man who spends his life fighting against arson comes into your life (and your two little girls’) only to help light up that fire once again
⟶ Title | Blooming Wallflowers ⟶ Pairings | Kim Namjoon x older female reader ⟶ Genre | Firefighter!Namjoon, Single mother!reader, Smut, Angst ⟶ Word count | 20,800 words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; allusions of past/toxic relationships, healing, usage of alcohol and drinking, dealing with insecurities, age gap with older female reader (OC is in her mid-30s), trapped in confined spaces; contains explicit smut scenes, including: sexual tension, dirty talk, light restraint, soft dom!Namjoon, switching positions and roles (OC taking control at some point), clothed foreplay, grinding, dry humping, thigh riding, implied body worship, breasts play, fingering, clit play, pussy slapping, riding, grinding, semi-public sex (does dining room count?), pet names, groping, biting, edging, oral sex (female receiving), minor hand-job, panty ripping, clit biting, panty sniffing, praise kink, hair pulling, rough sex, protective sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, overstimulation. ⟶ Author’s Note | Written as a commission for @KimCheeHoo | I’m so sorry this took me forever to finish. Thank you so much for commissioning me and for your endless support. I hope you’ll enjoy this story. Have fun reading! ⟶ Story Note 1 | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). This story has POV switches, and this is roughly edited, so forgive me for any mistakes. Banner design made by me, age warning divider by @/cafekitsune | Posted in: September 25th, 2024 by @yoonia
⟶ Also written as part of the @bangtanwritershq “Got A Secret, Can You Keep It?” Third Quarter 2024 writing event! ⟡ AU type: Hold Me Tight - Dilf/Milf AU ⟡ Themes: Age Gap, Situationship ⟡ Inclusions: Edging, Fingering, Angst/Hurt, Restraints
⟶ Music companion | Blue Rain, Make You Mine ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Ko-fi | Commission ⟶ Read on AO3 ⟶ Short story: Dinner with Mista Joonie
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On some days, you would feel like you are finally getting your shit together.
But today is not one of those days.
“Mommy! Hana is trying to bite me!” You hear your oldest whine as she hugs the pancake batter box to her chest. Shaking your head, you can only guess that her sister has been trying to take that box away from her hands.
“No, I did not!” Hana, your youngest daughter argues back, “Mommy, Suzy won’t let me use the scanning thingy.”
Suzy narrows her eyes and scoffs. She has been doing this expression a lot lately. It took you weeks after you first saw her making such an expression to figure out that she had somehow gotten it from you. Hana’s new biting habit, however, is something that you have yet to figure out how and when it started.
“You’re such a baby,” Suzy says, rolling her eyes, which only riles up her sister more.
“I am not!”
“Yes, you are. That’s why you can’t do this. Babies don’t do what grown-ups do.”
Sullen, Hana props her hands on her hips and lifts her chin, as if it would make her look bigger against her sister while whining, “But you’re not a grown-up too!”
Watching them go at each other, you cannot decide whether you want to laugh or cry.
Hana’s attitude reminds you of someone. You, perhaps, no doubt as the only role model she currently has to copy some of that sassy attitude from. You probably should feel embarrassed—deep down, you do, you are somewhere in public, after all—as the girls continue fighting, their voices loud enough to draw some attention, with the addition of being super dramatic about it.
Only for them to have a turn at helping you with the self-checkout counter.
You know the reason why you cannot find it in you to be mad at them. Not when the girls are showing you that they are the perfect carbon copy of you—not that you are the kind to have a tantrum in the middle of the supermarket, at least not at this age—and when they are always full of surprises. And you cannot deny that they are so stinking cute.
Suzy, the bigger one out of the two, is mostly quiet and sweet. As a six-year-old girl, only weeks away towards her seventh, she often makes people think that she is a bit older than she truly is with how calm she acts around others. Until recently, she has always been so shy. But that is only until the moment her little sister starts acting out and then she would react so strongly to her tantrum—just like what she is doing now.
Hana, on the other hand, is more brave and confident, and a bit too smart for her own good. Always so curious and mischievous, and always loves to copy whatever her big sister is up to. And she is always so headstrong that nothing can stop her whenever she wants something.
She just turned four, and you were sure that she could barely speak full sentences just a year ago. That period of time feels so long ago as you watch her arguing with her sister, with perfect sound of mind, clear words and reasonings, a sign that she is growing up a bit too soon.
“Girls, please stop screaming at each other,” you try to calmly separate them.
You have no idea what is happening. Normally, your girls would know perfectly well how to behave. They take great pride in being your ‘little helpers’ and it isn’t rare for you to bring them with you when you are out buying groceries.
For some reason, they have been like this all day. Constantly arguing and making a fuss over everything. Even to the smallest things.
“You can take turns using the scanner. Let Suzy finish scanning the pancake batter, then you can do yours, Hana. Here—”
Reaching into the shopping cart, you grab the box of cookies that you don’t remember placing inside the cart and try to hand it over to Hana. Only for it to slip out of your hand when both Suzy and Hana try to reach for it. Both insisting on taking it and having their turn.
“Motherfucker,” you mutter under your breath as the box slides on the floor, and both girls immediately launch into another series of arguments, blaming each other for dropping the box and getting you angry.
Tears are pooling in the corner of your eyes, and the quick switch of your mood isn’t unnoticeable for your girls as they both grow still. As if they are expecting you to snap. You bite your lips, trying your best not to.
Just as you take a deep breath to compose yourself, a shadow comes to your side, picking up the fallen box and handing it to you.
“Excuse me,” a deep voice speaks, snapping you out of it, only to pull you into a dreamy trance the moment you get a look at his face and see his smile. The dimple on his cheek distracts you from your distraught that your mind becomes numb for a moment.
“Hi there, do you need any help?”
“Uhm, not really. It’s fine,” you answer, barely getting a word out when it feels like your brain has short-circuited. You shake your head, noticing his extended hand, offering you the box that you dropped earlier. “Oh, thank you,” you say to him, smiling apologetically as you take the box from his hand. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure why my girls are acting like this. They’re not usually this dramatic.”
“That’s okay. Kids will be kids, right?” His eyes flicker towards your girls. Suzy, still in shock, is standing right by the cart while clutching the box of pancake batter to her chest, while Hana is clinging to your leg, almost hiding. “I don’t think you remember me, but—” The kind stranger offers the same hand to you to shake as he introduces himself, “I’m Namjoon. I just moved in a couple of doors away.”
Once the information sets in, everything clicks. “Oh, yes. That’s right. I do remember.”
All of a sudden, your memory takes you to last weekend, when you joined a cookout event held by one of your neighbours. The gathering was initially meant to celebrate their 25th anniversary, and you recall how they extended the celebration to welcome the new neighbour arriving in your block. You were so tired that night and were so focused on watching your kids that everything seemed to flash by, but you do recall gossiping with one of your neighbours, Ella—the only other single mom of the group—about how hot and stunning the newcomer looked.
Blinking away the memory, you offer him another smile. “I’m sorry, I think the stress got to me. But I do remember you, although I don’t think we had enough time to chat.”
“It’s fine. I won’t blame you, given the circumstances,” he says, and that cute dimple appears again. He turns to your kids next, bending a bit lower to match their height. “Hi, there. Are you girls trying to help your mom with the checkout?”
Suzy presses her lips together, too shy to speak, but Hana is always happy to offer an answer. “Suzy won’t let me help.” You look down to see her pouting her lips, yet her eyes are still wide, looking curious and intrigued by this friendly stranger. Once again, something that you might share with your girl.
“Well, I haven’t checked out my things and I might need a little help. So why don’t we let your sister help your mom, and you help me with mine?” he offers Hana with a smile as he points at his shopping basket, which is barely half full. Any adult would notice that he wouldn’t be needing much help with them, but Hana immediately perks up at his generous offer.
“Is that really okay with you?” you ask, worrying about troubling him when you barely know him at all and letting your daughter out of your sight.
As if he knows what you are thinking, he points over his shoulder at the next counter, which is only recently vacant. “I’ll take the next counter, so you can see and hear us all the time.”
A sigh of relief escapes you. For some reason, looking at him alone is enough to reassure you and make you trust him. Maybe it’s the dimple. “Right. Okay,” you say to him, nodding. “Go ahead, honey. Help the nice mister with his groceries. But promise me that you’ll be good.”
“‘Kay!” Hana easily agrees, getting overly excited that she has been given something else to do. “I promise, Mommy.”
Find the beauty in the chaos.
You remember reading that sentence somewhere. Perhaps from one of your favourite romance novels or one of those self-help books that your mother bought you during your darkest time.
Each time you are having a hard time, be it from work, from dealing with household chores, or from caring for your daughters, you will always remember those words to keep your composure. Just like how you kept repeating those same words moments ago while you were stressing over your kids, when you tried to remain calm and sane.
You didn’t expect the beauty to come and find you in your chaos instead.
Having someone helping you just when you are starting to lose your calm feels like a blessing from the universe.
Once peace has been regained, everything seems to return back to normal. Almost as if your daughters’ tantrum and fight never happened.
While you work together with Suzy, who is enjoying her role as your little assistant, her smile widening each time the items go through, you can hear the sound of soft giggling from nearby as Hana does the same with her new friend.
And Namjoon, the kind stranger and your saviour of the day, is making it fun by playing a little game with your little girl using the scanner and his groceries, drawing smiles and laughter from Hana, her little drama earlier forgotten. Soon enough, they are done, yet Hana remains by Namjoon’s side, almost clinging to his strong arm as she chatters away while he listens closely, hanging to every word she says.
It appears that your little girl has completely become infatuated with the man. You cannot blame her though, since the man is quite easy in the eye. You have even noticed some of the women passing by looking over, and it surprises you how quickly it is making you feel territorial about him.
“Thank you so much for your help. I truly appreciate it.”
And you mean every word, seeing that not only has he helped solve your little problem with your demanding daughters, he also stays long enough to walk you to your car. If that isn’t enough to make you feel as if you have been transferred into another dimension, he has somehow gotten your daughter lifted in one arm, while he carries his grocery bag in the other.
“It’s nothing, really. I enjoyed talking to your sweet girl,” he says, once again showing his dimple, and you can swear that you are swooning just by the look of it. Perhaps it’s his voice that does it to you; the deep timbre that makes you feel warm inside. It might also be the way he glances at Hana, not even showing any sign that he is getting annoyed for having his evening thwarted by having to deal with little girls and their very disorganised mother.
“I mean it. You could’ve just walked past and didn’t offer anything, but you still did. You’re even walking us out to the car.” You sigh, recalling the bitter memory of the drama earlier. Glancing at him, you realise that Hana has become extremely silent. “Please tell me Hana isn’t falling asleep on your shoulder.”
Namjoon lets out a soft chuckle as he takes a peek at Hana’s face, her cheeks smushed against his broad shoulder as if she has found the perfect place to rest her head on. “I think she’s about to.”
Biting your lips, you hold back the sound that almost comes involuntarily out of you, because you can almost hear your ovaries exploding.
Namjoon helps put Hana into her kiddie seat in the backseat of the car while you strap Suzy in right beside her. “You seem like you’ve done this before,” you let it slip, and you quickly move your hand to cover your mouth. “I’m so sorry. You’ve been so nice and here I am, sounding too presumptuous.”
“It’s okay. Most of my friends have kids, and I’ve helped them once or twice whenever I’m free. I also have a niece from my sister, which gave me a chance to practice.”
You take a peek at his grocery bag and remember what you saw in it—a box of beer, a couple of boxes of microwave dinners, and some snacks—and feel the urge to cook him dinner. Just to pay him a favour.
Yes, that’s what it is. Not that you are eager to have him over for dinner or invite him into your home for anything other than.
The offer is there, hanging at the tip of your tongue. But then you bite your lips, your insecurities and doubts rearing their ugly head, making you feel so small that you take a step back and simply say, “Thank you again. I’m so sorry for all the trouble.”
Namjoon shrugs it off. “It was a pleasure to help.”
Nodding, you look around, trying to find a distraction. You quickly notice that most of the cars parked near yours have gone away. “Are you—where did you park your car?”
The dimple on his cheek appears again when he shows you a bashful smile. “I don’t drive a car, actually,” he says, grinning and rubbing the back of his head. “I rode a bike here.”
“A—bike?” You resist the urge to look around, just to be sure. Riding a bike at this time at night? You have no idea whether to feel amazed or baffled. Perhaps both.
Seeing your reaction makes him laugh, and you somehow decide that you like the sound of it. “Yeah, I always ride a bike to the gym, and I was just heading home from there when I decided to make a quick stop to grab some sustenance for the evening.”
Hiking the grocery bag in his arm higher, Namjoon takes a step back. That is when you notice the bag hanging from his shoulder. The one that wasn’t weighed down by Hana’s little head.
Okay, you have officially decided to be amazed. Is this guy for real?
“Well, I guess I’ll see you around?” He asks, snapping you back to the present before your mind starts picturing him carrying something else on those shoulders.
No, none of it involves you.
Maybe.
You shake your head and muster a smile. “Oh, you betcha. You’ll definitely see us more often. Especially now that Hana has decided to like you.”
You linger at the driver’s side of your car, hands on the door, yet your body refuses to slide in. You have no idea what seems to be drawing you towards him. Whatever it is, it makes you not want to leave.
Namjoon tilts his head, as if noticing your hesitation to leave first. “Go on, I’ll watch you until you’re out there safely.”
You open your mouth, almost ready to tell him to get back on his way before realising that the parking lot is quiet. Too quiet. And you have to admit that ever since you were left with only your two girls, you have been feeling a bit more vulnerable. Choosing to accept his offer of staying until you are safe to go—and feeling warm in the chest for having someone care enough to do so—you nod your head and slip into your car.
Once you are strapped in, you look out the window to wave him goodbye.
“Drive safe,” he says, and then the dimple reappears when he smiles, almost causing you to stutter.
“Yes, um. You too.”
Hana’s eyes flutter open just as Namjoon takes a peek into the backseat window to say goodbye to the girls.
“Bye, Mista Joonie!” she cheerfully shouts, as if she wasn’t falling asleep in his arm just moments ago.
“Goodbye, Mister,” Suzy chimes in with a shy smile, waving her hand at Namjoon which he returns with a small wave.
“I’ll see you girls around!”
Giving him one last wave and a smile, you begin to drive away. You can still see him through the rearview mirror, standing by and watching you go, until you are almost out of the lot and you see his figure running in the distance to get back to his bike. It’s brief, but there is something about this chance encounter that makes you feel bitter about leaving.
Even if, deep down, you know that you will see him again soon.
Perhaps I should’ve offered and invited him for dinner, after all.
There is truly no beauty in this chaos.
Even if there is, it would be impossible for you to see it. Not in moments like this.
It seems like the entire universe is out to get you this week, as nothing seems to be aligning the way it should have. The whole office has been in complete havoc all morning. Typical for Blackwell Press, the publishing company you are working with, to have the final week of the month filled with all the hustle. With everyone getting caught in deadlines, meetings and conference calls held back to back, and your own work piling up, it almost seems impossible for things to get even worse.
But, of course, it eventually did.
Offices don’t randomly get caught on fire during the daytime, when there are people—many of them—inside. Elevators don’t randomly get stuck merely seconds after the fire alarm starts blaring across the building.
Okay, this elevator had gotten stuck before, during that one time some staff were working late at night and the machine suddenly failed to work. Everyone has been joking about it happening again during a busy day, and it feels like karma that it has to happen again now.
But must it happen when you are inside it?
The steady hum of the elevator suddenly turned into a deafening silence just moments ago, and the only thing you can do now is to stand frozen in the flickering light, wondering what is going on. Trapped between floors, the confined space appears in your mind as if closing in on you, the walls shrinking with every breath. The only reprieve you are given is the fact that you are not in it on your own.
Your heart is pounding in your chest, louder than the faint crackle of the intercom as Daniel, the Marketing guy, tries to contact the security staff downstairs through the intercom. His voice remains calm despite the constant crackling sound each time they try to respond, while the other Marketing staff present with you, Jae, has long discarded his suit in his effort to calm himself.
You take shallow breaths to keep yourself from panicking, all while trying to listen to the soft hum of their voices as they talk about what to do, just to keep your mind from wandering towards dark places. Right beside you, Lily, the only member of the Editor team aside yourself, is slowly losing her calm.
At the sudden halt of the elevator, she had reached out to grab the sleeve of your blouse as if searching for support. As seconds tick by, her grip on your sleeve tightens as she tries to control her breath, her eyes locked on the digital screen that is no longer displaying a floor number. And you let her cling to you, even when you feel like you need some added strength for yourself.
It was by mere coincidence that the four of you are stuck here together.
You were the last ones to leave the conference room after the latest meeting, having been the ones responsible for providing the items for the meeting. As fate has it, merely seconds after the doors were closed and the elevator had only started moving, the fire alarm started blaring through the building, and everything came to a halt.
“They’re saying that help is on its way,” says Daniel, relaying the message that he just received from the intercom, his voice becomes the calm in this dire situation.
You find yourself feeling grateful that at least one of you manages to hear the voice coming through the intercom, while you haven’t been able to focus on anything at all. Nothing but the sound of your breathing, the rapid sound of your heartbeat, and at the way the air seems to be growing stale with four people sharing the same oxygen in this tight space.
“What did they say? Is it connected to the fire alarm?” you try to ask, hoping that getting some positive news might help clear your thoughts. Even if just a little.
“No, they didn’t say anything,” Daniel says with a strained voice, possibly due to reality finally sinking in once the intercom stops making any sound to respond.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jae leans back against the metal railing and sighs. “Let’s just hope that we’re not anywhere close to the fire, and it’s just some issues with the electricity,” he adds while trying his best to remain calm. But it doesn’t help make you feel any calmer when his eyes begin wandering at every visible gap and crevice as he speaks, as if making sure that he isn’t seeing any smoke filtering into the elevator.
It makes you feel uneasy to see this. Every bit of calmness that you still have begins chipping away.
Soon, silence falls as everyone tries their best to remain still and composed while waiting for help to come. The minutes drag on like hours, allowing your thoughts to wander into a darker place and letting your doubt and fear sink in.
Is the building really burning?
Why are we stuck here? How long are we supposed to wait?
What happens if help doesn’t come?
What about my girls? What will happen to them if I—
You blink away the tears forming in your eyes at the thought of not returning home to your girls. The thought of leaving them behind hurts you beyond words that you are beginning to lose hope.
Gripping the metal railing behind you tightly, you close your eyes and begin to pray. And you continue to pray as time slips away in the dim, stalled box. Please, you beg whoever is listening. Please, someone—
A loud clatter breaks the silence, causing everyone to jerk their heads up, all eyes looking around to find its source. Right as Jae is about to speak, the clattering stops and comes a muffled voice from somewhere above.
"Hello? Can you hear me?" The voice is clear now, firm but calming, and somewhat familiar. But your mind is a jumbled mess of worry and bewilderment that you cannot figure out the reason why you would think that way.
"Yes!" Jae calls back after looking around, seeing how everyone is stunned to silence, “Yes, we can hear you!”
"Stay calm," the voice calmly instructs from above. “We’re from the firefighters. We're going to get you out."
You feel your knees weakening with relief. Even the others collectively exhale deep sighs of relief and Lily begins to loosen her hold on the sleeve of your blouse. “Okay,” she whispers, steadying herself. “We’re going to be okay.”
Daniel nods when he sees that everyone is calmer. “Okay, we’re ready!” he shouts to the person on the other side as he braces against the cool metal wall.
Soon, you hear a low, scraping sound against the elevator door, followed by the clank of tools echoing through the small chamber. The elevator shirts slightly upon impact, causing everyone to gasp and instinctively start stepping away from the door. Before panic starts to set back in, the firefighter’s voice cuts through again, calming everyone down.
"We're going to manually open the doors. You might feel the elevator shift a little—don't worry. You're safe."
Safe.
The word echoes through your mind, acting like a spell as it brings some reassurance. Something for you to cling to. The clanking sounds of the tool returns just as you start hearing the firefighter coordinating with his team outside.
More creaks and groans follow next, lasting for a short while, and then—light appears. The doors start inching open, revealing the gap between the elevator floor and the hallway above. Two strong hands appear from the gap, pulling the doors wider until there is enough space for you to see your rescuers in their fire gear, all focused and ready to pull everyone out.
One firefighter peeks through the opened doors with a smile. “Alright, who’s up first?”
Both men who are with you step aside, allowing either you or Lily to get out first. So you push Lily forward, letting her get helped first before you take your turn.
"Alright, just one step up," the firefighter says, reaching down with an outstretched hand. "Take my hand, we’ve got you."
You hesitate only for a moment before grasping his hand, his hold feels solid and reassuring. You can feel the strength in his grip as he hoists you up and out of the elevator, the cool rush of fresh air hitting you like a wave of relief. Your legs tremble as they touch solid ground that you nearly fall, yet the kind firefighter holds you up by your arms, keeping you steady as he sets you aside so that the other members of his team can start helping the men out.
"You're okay now," the firefighter says, his voice softer now. "Just breathe. You’re safe."
Nodding, you close your eyes, allowing yourself to feel the weight of your fear melting away. Still unable to speak, you glance back at the elevator, seeing it still wedged between floors, and feel a shiver run through you as you remember that you had just been inside it moments ago. But as you look around, watching the firefighters handling the situation, helping the other three who had just gotten pulled out to get help, the terror that was gripping at you begins to loosen its hold.
With a relieved sigh, you straighten up and turn back to your saviour, the firefighter who had just pulled you out and is still holding you up. The moment you see his face, you finally understand why his voice felt so familiar, and why you could easily find calmness when you first heard him speak.
“Namjoon,” you whisper his name, drawing a smile to his face, showing you the small dimple which had been in your mind ever since the night you last met.
“I told you we’d meet again soon.”
“Is this really necessary?”
You are sitting at the corner of the building’s main lobby, together with the other three who had gotten stuck with you in the elevator. Other staff have also been evacuated here while the firefighters are working to find the source of the problem.
Namely, the reason why the fire alarm went off when there was no sign of the building burning anywhere.
Right by your side, Jae is being checked by the medical team when it is quite obvious that all the man wants to do is to get back to his office.
“You were under duress just moments ago, Sir. We need to check your vitals to make sure that there are no other issues with your body that the incident may have caused before letting you go.”
“Let the boy do his job so we can all go back to the office,” Daniel chimes in just as he is done being checked out and the medic moves to Lily next. The poor girl has yet to regain some colour on her pale face, which makes you worried. “Wait, we’re allowed to go back to our office, right?”
The medical staff nods and talks about waiting until everyone gets clearance from the investigation team before going back up. After getting your turn for the quick check-up, you wander off a bit between the staff lingering around, feeling too restless to sit still.
Before you realise what you are doing, you begin searching for a familiar figure between the throng of people, and you don’t stop until you see a group of firefighters returning to the lobby after checking the floors above. One of them, who appears to be the team leader, walks towards the head of security and the Head Editor waiting close by.
“It came from smoke forming in the break room. Someone must’ve burned something in the microwave or forgot to pull it out and the smoke triggered the alarm,” you hear the team leader speak, explaining the cause of the fire alarm. “The faulty alarm system made the electrical circuit go haywire, which made it seem like it was a bigger fire than it was, and it may have caused the elevator cables to short-circuit.” The team leader hands the draft of their investigation report to the head of security. “The elevator needs to get checked too, since the cables are old. You need to get it done soon.”
The Head Editor—your boss—takes a peek at the report and shakes his head. “I’m gonna need to contact building management—”
His voice begins to fade away when a movement catches your eyes, and you see the person that you have been searching for separating himself from the group to approach you.
Namjoon, who turns out to be your saviour, walks up to you with a smile on his face. “Are you okay?” he asks, the familiar deep timber of his voice brings some warmth to your chest, telling you that this isn’t a figment of your imagination.
“Yeah,” you answer with a small voice, still too dumbfounded to see him standing before you like this. “Uhm, yes, I’m fine. Thank you so much for saving my life.” The moment you say this, a soft giggle slips right out of you. “This makes it the second time this week you’ve come to my rescue.”
Namjoon’s smile widens. “I’m just glad to help.”
He takes a look around. “So, a publishing agency, hmm? What is it exactly that you do here, if I may ask?” His curious gaze lands on you and it feels like he is trying to look into your soul. “I hope it’s okay if I’m curious, since you now know what I do for a living.”
You let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t mind at all,” you admit to him before answering, “I’m an editor. I edit manuscripts for upcoming books before they are sent out to print and get officially published. You can say that I’m being paid to read and comment, and gain the extra privilege of reading the books first before everyone else does.”
“That sounds interesting,” he says, raising his brows. “I don’t suppose you’ll be getting back to work after this?”
“I’m not entirely sure. But I don’t think I will.” You glance around at your co-workers. Neither seems to have any desire of going back to work after this whole incident. Sharing the same feeling with the others around you, you feel a strong desire of seeing your girls and spending time with them instead. “I might get back to my office only to pack up my stuff and leave early, pick up Hana from daycare and have a little cool down at the park before we go and pick up her sister. I know she’ll love it.”
At the mention of your girls, Namjoon’s smile softens. “That sounds fun.”
For a moment, it looks as if he wants to say something, only to stop himself when someone from his team calls his name. Namjoon looks over his shoulder and nods. “Unfortunately, one of us has to go back to work,” he says with an apologetic smile, “I’ll see you around. Hopefully, not in another case of emergency?”
You cannot help but smile. “I promise to try and keep things less dramatic next time.”
With a grin on his face, Namjoon turns away and joins the other men from his team as they prepare to leave. You watch him for a moment longer, blending in with the rest of them until someone comes to your side.
“So—” Your friend, Emma, says as she slips her arm around yours. “Who’s the hunk?”
You roll your eyes and smile. “He’s a new neighbour. He helped me the last time we met,” you answer, still stunned with everything that has been going on. You never expected that you would be seeing Namjoon again, and for him to once again save the day for you, “Which makes this the second time he’s helped me.”
“Oooh, sounds like a story premise in the making. It’ll make a good romance prompt, don’t you think?” she teases, “A firefighter who keeps crossing paths with a single mother, saving her during a series of misfortunes and ending up falling in love after the single mom starts paying his goodwill with homecooked meals and other”—she starts wiggling her eyebrows—”raunchy favours.”
You laugh at her comment, even if it doesn’t stop you feeling your cheeks flushing warmly. “Well, I’m not the writer. You can probably pitch that idea to the indie author you’ve been working with.”
“Who? Sana? Hmmm, you’re right. This is kind of her thing. Let me take notes on that,” Emma says as she pulls out her phone and starts tapping on the screen, no doubt writing the idea down on her notes app. “I might advice her to make it extra spicy too.”
As you continue to chat with your friend about books and promising writers, you let her guide you back towards the Editor team who are gathering at one corner of the room with your boss, talking about the incidents and what they are going to do next.
“Are you heading back up?” Emma asks you before you join the others, and you recall your plan about spending the rest of the afternoon with your youngest.
“I’m thinking of grabbing my stuff and head back home if Adam lets us go for the day,” you say to her, referring to your boss, the Head Editor who isn’t showing any sign of wanting to back to work. Much like everyone else. “I’ll probably end up losing sleep again if I want to finish editing tonight.”
You let out a sigh, thinking about the lack of sleep you have been having this week. With new books coming up to prints this month, and new writers struggling to keep up with the schedule that you have set up for them, you have been staying up a lot of nights to catch up with editing.
“But it’s still a lot better to work from home than being stuck here and freaking out about the elevator and false fire alarms all day,” you add, almost like reassuring yourself that it would be okay to sacrifice more sleep for the sake of your sanity.
“Good point. I bet we can sweet talk Adam to let us go early today. I don’t see the point in working when everyone is stressed out anyway,” Emma jokes as she points her chin at Adam, whose eyebrows are furrowed deeply as he continues chatting with his assistants. “At least, thanks to this, I think we deserve to let off some steam. What do you say we go out this Saturday? Grab some drinks, dance a bit, maybe you can practice your flirting skills so you can make use of them the next time you meet up with that cutie again.”
You make a face as you imagine yourself trying to make a move on Namjoon, which only makes her laugh. “I’m serious. He seems nice, aside from being hot, and it’ll be a missed opportunity not to tap that.”
You roll your eyes, but a part of you is starting to consider it. As much as you love being a mother and to dedicate your entire life to your career, you cannot deny that you do want to start dating again.
And the offer to have a night out where you can let off some steam and let loose does sound enticing. Emma and some of your other friends have been asking you to join them to hangout on drink nights lately. But with a lot of deadlines and tight schedules weighing down on you, and no one to watch your girls while you are out, you have been declining their invitation. But after dealing with such a hard week, you feel like you deserve a night to yourself.
“I do need a stiff drink.” Sighing, you remember that your daughters are going to be spending the weekends with your parents. It wouldn’t hurt to use that free time to have some fun for a change instead of staying in. “All right. Count me in.”
Emma cheers. “Great! I’ll call the other girls to see if they’ll come too it so we can all catch up. Chloe called the other day and shared about wanting to see us and give us the souvenirs she got from her trip to Singapore last week, so she’ll probably be excited too,” she says, mentioning another fellow Editor who used to work in the same company as the two of you before moving up to a bigger publishing agency.
Just then, you see a small group of firefighters walking across the lobby, heading towards the front door to leave. Among them is Namjoon, who seems to feel your gaze on him. As you continue watching him walk alongside his team, he suddenly turns. His eyes quickly find you among the crowd lingering in the lobby, his smile growing wider as he raises his hand to wave goodbye.
Emma makes a humming sound when she sees this exchange happening and whispers, “Promise me you’ll tell me more about that hot firefighter of yours.”
Keeping your eyes on Namjoon, you merely smile and wave your hand back at him. “Mhmm. We’ll see.”
It’s a typical Saturday night at Cipher, the rustic-style bar that Namjoon has frequented ever since he moved into the city.
The bar had a different name just a couple of years ago, when Namjoon first came by during one of his previous visits to this city, and with different types of patrons as well. The only thing that remains the same since is the man who is working behind the bar, mixing drinks while chatting with whoever decides to hang around the bartender.
“How is living in the city going for you so far?” Jin, the bartender and owner of the bar, asks Namjoon while he is busy wiping clean glasses between drink orders.
Twisting the glass in his hand, Namjoon shrugs before taking a sip of his whiskey. “Not too bad. I can’t say that I’ve gotten to fit right in with the neighbours. But things are doing good at work, so that’s good enough for now.”
“Seeing anyone already?” Jin teases, making Namjoon laugh.
“Are you seriously asking me that?” He shakes his head. “It might be too soon for me to get back out there into the dating scene.”
“You? Not sure about getting out to meet up with women?” Jin laughs. “Look, I’m not talking about getting into a relationship or finding someone else to propose. I’m talking about having fun. Go pick someone you find attractive tonight and take her home with you. You deserve a good time too, you know.”
Namjoon’s throat feels tight just by hearing that word—propose—only because it brings back a painful memory; of the days filled with fights and shouting matches and distrust, and the desperation he felt to hold on to the hope that things would have gotten better if he chose to settle down.
Shaking the sudden wave of painful memory doesn’t really help when he thinks about opening himself to finding instant pleasure to replace what was lost to him.
Namjoon may not be a stranger to having a one-night stand. But it has been a while since the last time he had one. Those days are way behind him. Long before he decided to settle down, only to have everything fall apart and he was forced to start over in a new place just to survive.
He knows all too well that sharing his bed with someone for one night only does little to fill the void. He knows from what he experienced during his wild days in the past. Physically, he might not have been alone for those short hours, but once it ended, it only made him feel even more lonely than before. At some point, the loneliness started to feel painful. It was what had first led him to start longing for something more.
He once thought that he had found more. Only that it had been with the wrong person, at the wrong time, and he found himself back to square one when everything crumbled.
He took it all thinking that it might have been karma. Bad fate came to bite him on the ass after all the years he had his fun chasing women, breaking hearts here and there, until he got his own heart broken to pieces just months ago.
It was the reality check he needed. One that he has yet to completely recover from. The pain and the memories of the past would sometimes come creeping in, staying with him as if they had been woven into the cracks that were left inside him to remain even after he walked away. It kept chasing him during the nights he spent alone—and he had tried to go back to the game once or twice, only to fail to gain anything out of it—which was why he decided to move away.
Start anew. Meet new people. And then one day, maybe—
He knows that time will eventually help him heal, just like how time has healed many of the scars he had gained through the years of working with danger, chasing fires and pulling people out of crumbling buildings and crashed cars and stuck elevators—a flutter of a smile comes to his face as he recalls the most recent incident—while risking his own body, his life, doing so.
“I can’t believe I’m getting an advice about hooking up from someone like you,” Namjoon chuckles, as he brushes those thoughts away, choosing to tease Jin instead. “Someone who claims to be looking into settling down.”
Jin scoffs. “I’m saying this for your own good.” Propping his elbows on top of the bar counter, Jin leans forward. “You moved here to start over. Not to stop living altogether.”
Namjoon gives him a bitter smile. “Right now, I’m only going to spend the night nursing my drink, enjoying my downtime while I’m off duty.”
Shaking his head, Jin leans back and grabs the empty glasses left behind from the patrons who had just stepped away from the seats next to Namjoon. “Have you thought about my offer?” Jin asks, “About working here on the nights you’re not on night shift? At least, that way, you might open up your eyes and see all the opportunities you can get by standing right here at the bar, talking to people.”
“And live a double life like you do?” Namjoon teases him, which earns him a wink from Jin, before the bartender saunters away as another customer waves him down to order a drink.
Once again left with his own thoughts, Namjoon allows himself to sink back into old memories; all the good and the bad; the long-lost hope that he once had and is now trying to rebuild.
“Wanna have another?” Jin asks when he returns, noticing that Namjoon has almost emptied his glass yet again. “Got enough time to think about what I was saying?”
“Maybe,” Namjoon says as he tosses his drink down. He slides the empty glass back to Jin. “Get me a double of that.”
As Jin steps back to grab his drinks, Namjoon notices the group of patrons crowding nearby spreading away, giving him a clear sight of the bar’s entrance door just as a group of women enters, laughing and chatting with each other without realising the attention they are gaining. All of a sudden, Namjoon feels as if the air around him shifts, right the moment his eyes capture the sight of a familiar smile among the ladies who seem to have come for a good time.
“Can I ask you something?” Namjoon asks Jin when the bartender returns with his drink.
“Sure. Anything.”
“Do you believe in fate?”
Jin laughs. “Me? I can’t really say I don’t believe it, but it’s also not something I’d talk about while tending the bar. Why?”
Namjoon turns back to look at the group of newcomers, his smile growing wider when his eyes meet yours as you look up, as if you can feel his presence as he sits across the room, watching you with a new feeling of hope brewing inside his chest. Life can be cruel sometimes, he silently admits. Yet it seems that life is slowly turning to his favour when you unexpectedly appear right before his eyes, right when he is about to call it a night and return to his lonely home.
“Well, I think I am starting to believe it.”
“I feel like we should make a toast,” Emma starts once you manage to find an open table. She holds up her glass of Cosmo before anyone can start enjoying their drinks.
“What are we toasting for?” Ina asks, just as Emma shouts,
“To friendship.”
Chloe snorts into her drink and shakes her head. “What are we, in high school?”
“Hey, I mean, it works,” Emma whines, “Seeing that we still hang out together even after you and Ina moved to different companies.”
Thinking to yourself, you think about the long week that you just had and offer, “How about a toast to surviving life?”
“I’ll toast to that,” Ina quickly agrees with a nod, and you can totally understand why. Being the oldest one of the group, she has a ton of things on her plate among her busy days at work; from dealing with her teenage boys back home who are beginning to act up; a husband who is busy preparing for his promotion; and a sick cat back home.
“I love my boys, but sometimes I wish they were still the same adorable toddlers who would listen to me instead of fighting me all the time,” she would often say, though you could always see the love in her eyes even as she complains about them. “Are you sure you don’t want to trade them with your girls? Just a night will be enough for me. I promise.”
Chloe raises her glass to join the toast, saying, “I’ll toast to that too. These past few weeks have been pretty crazy for me. I want to stay in bed with my hubby for the next few weeks and not answer any texts or phone calls.”
Her comment makes you want to take a shot of your drink. You shouldn’t feel envious about her having someone waiting for her back home. You shouldn’t wish that you had someone to share your bed with tonight. You really don’t need to think about having to return home tonight alone, to a quiet home, without your girls waiting back home, without anyone keeping you company.
The only thing you fear the most about being left alone with your thoughts is to have the ghosts of your past coming back. Memories always come stronger at nights. Taking you back to the days when you were not alone, yet you are made struggling even harder than you are now when you tried to hold on to the crumbling marriage.
Nobody warned you that falling out of love can be painful. How lonely it made you feel. It scorned you to the point that you nearly sworn yourself off of love, just to keep your heart save. Whatever was left of it.
“Then why are you here hanging with us when you have a husband to cuddle with?” Emma teases, her voice snapping you out of it. Then Chloe leans in to hug you from the side.
“Because I also miss you guys,” she says, drawing everyone’s laughter.
You share a toast with the girls, clinking the glasses as you cheer, followed by a series of shots, and then a new round of drinks is shared at the table. You continue talking, laughing, catching up about life and sharing gossip and fussing over some problematic authors that both Emma and Chloe had to deal with for the past month. By the time the next round of shots arrives at the table, you notice Emma’s eyes looking over your shoulder and grinning at what she sees.
“Aren’t you going to say hi?” she teases, leaning in to make it less obvious that she has been observing the one person that you have been fighting not to look at.
You take a careful sip of your Moscow Mule as you think of an excuse. “We already waved at each other when we first came in.”
Truth be told, you already know that a simple wave was the bare minimum that you could have given him. Seeing Namjoon sitting there at the bar when you first came into this place caught you by surprise that you were left speechless. It was Namjoon who had first smiled at you, and the only thing you could do was wave your hand at him when your legs refused to take you to him.
“You know that’s not enough.” Emma rolls her eyes. “The guy practically saved your life.”
Your reaction—or lack thereof—over seeing Namjoon hadn’t gone unnoticed by your friends. But it was Emma who had explained to the others about who Namjoon was, earning you more questions and teasing from the girls which only made it even harder for you to ignore his presence.
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it if you offer something special tonight for a thank-you gift,” Chloe teases while wiggling her brows.
You laugh, snorting into your drink. “Sure he will,” you say, as you find it hard to imagine that someone like Namjoon would even be interested in being with someone like you. Not only because you know that he is younger than you, but you also know that there are many women out there—mostly those around his age—that he would find more attractive, compared to a single mom like yourself.
As always, your insecurities are quick to set in. Before you can drown it with a strong drink, Emma quickly protests, “You’re a MILF, ______. Stop selling yourself short.”
Nodding, Ina gently agrees with her by saying, “You definitely shouldn’t, seeing that he keeps glancing at you.”
“She means to say that he’s been eye-fucking you since we got here,” Chloe adds, snickering as she glances over her shoulder to catch Namjoon looking over.
“He so is!” Ina says, leaning across the table. “He’s hot. Go for it.”
Hearing this, you finally take a long sip of your drink, trying to gain some liquid courage. You have only gotten a few glasses of drink, the night has yet grown late, but you have already gotten quite a good buzz going on, and you are using it to grow some courage to look over at him. Sure enough, Namjoon is still there, with a glass of what seems to be whiskey in his hand, and a pair of eyes that are looking straight at you. A smile grows on his face as your gazes meet each other, though it is quickly hidden as he lifts his glass to his lips.
“See? He’s looking over again.” Emma starts giggling and gently nudges at your shoulder. “Go talk to him and practice that flirting skills of yours.”
“What flirting skills?” you ask while laughing. Deep down, your insecurities are still clawing at you, but having everyone pushing you to do something that you normally wouldn’t do—like flirting with a hot younger guy like Namjoon—is starting to make you want to change your mind. “Okay, but what do I say?”
“You can start by saying hi,” Ina says. She pushes her appletini in front of you. “Here,” she says. “Finish this, then go talk to him before someone else moves in on that fine piece of ass.”
Chloe nods her head as you pick up the glass of appletini and contemplate what you need to do next. “You can go to the bar and act like you’re there to order drinks from the bartender since we’ll be needing some more drinks.”
“Go on,” Emma joins in, obviously enjoying this.
You exhale a deep breath and bring the glass to your lips. The sweet liquor glides down your throat and you suddenly start wishing that you had gotten something stronger. Lowering the drink, you turn to look for him again. Namjoon isn’t looking at you this time, yet he is still there, talking to the pretty-looking bartender who was the main reason why Emma had chosen to come to this bar—as she seems to be having a sweet crush on the bartender.
“All right, here I go,” you say, as you finish the drink and muster the will to rise from your seat. Your legs are a bit wobbly when you try to walk across the room, but the muted voices of your friends who are cheering for you from behind give you the boost you need to continue going.
The floor between your table and the bar has been filled with people dancing while you are drinking, and they come in your way, making you lose sight of Namjoon for a moment. Not being able to see him only makes you feel calmer, until the crowd opens up and you see him once again, still sitting at the bar. Alone.
Eyes too focused on him, you accidentally bump into someone who walks right into your path. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you immediately apologise while the person simply slides out of your way and returns to his dancing.
You hear a soft chuckle, a familiar sound that causes your breath to catch. You whip around and your eyes are locked with his. Immediately, something fuzzy builds in your chest, and you almost fall out of step when you notice it.
Are those butterflies you are feeling inside? You haven’t felt anything remotely like butterflies in—fuck—years.
As his smile grows wider at the sight of you walking towards him, you try to convince yourself that his presence isn’t affecting you. At all.
Your lady bits do not quiver for random men. You are certainly not having dirty thoughts about him. You keep telling yourself this as you get closer to him. And yet—
Your heart immediately speeds up at the sound of his voice—calling your name.
“_______, fancy seeing you here,” he says, looking genuinely pleased that those butterfly wings are beginning to flutter again, causing some funny feelings to rise in your stomach.
“I could say the same thing. It was a nice surprise to see you,” you respond to him and—fuck, did you really just try flirting with him? “Enjoying your night?”
“You can say that,” he says with a dimple smile of his, “But I’m finding more reasons to feel good tonight now that you’re here.”
Damn, he’s good, you wonder as you stifle a smile, and fail. Maybe he should be the one helping you sharpen your flirting skills instead of Emma or the other girls who always start making jokes about it and making you laugh each time you try it on them.
“A friend of yours?” You turn when the bartender comes, throwing you a smile as he speaks to Namjoon.
“Jin, this is _______,” Namjoon says, introducing the two of you. “This is Jin, an old friend who first convinced me to move here. He’s the main reason why I hang out at a place like this.”
You offer your hand to the bartender who takes it with a firm grip. “Hi, it’s nice to see you. I see that you and your friends are having quite a blast.”
Returning Jin’s smile, you playfully ask him, “Would it be too much if I thank you for encouraging Namjoon to move here?”
“Nope, not at all,” Jin laughs. “So, what can I get you?”
You quickly make your order, and while you wait for the bartender to finish preparing the drinks, you take the seat right by Namjoon’s side so you can have a little chat. Either the alcohol is starting to warm you up inside, or Namjoon’s friendly smile is making you more comfortable, every bit of tension you feel is lifted when you begin laughing at his simple jokes.
Once the drinks are ready, you reluctantly rise to return to your friends to deliver their shots. This time, you have a slight new pep in your footsteps, confidence brewing inside you after realising that you had conquered one of your insecurities tonight by chatting with Namjoon. Your friends welcome you with light cheers, and you celebrate by sharing a shot of whiskey and finishing the rest of your drink.
It doesn’t take long before your friends decide to end the night.
Ina is the one to step away first, when her husband calls her about one of their sons who had just gotten caught sneaking through the window after lying about doing his homework in his room. “We don’t know if he snuck out to see a girl or got himself in other kinds of trouble while he was out, but Dan needs me as a backup to get some answers from the little brat,” she says, kissing your cheek when she bids goodbye for the night.
Chloe is the one who needs to go home next, when her husband keeps calling her about feeling lonely at home. “I can’t tell if it’s sad or cute, but I think I’ve had enough to drink for the night. I already got an Uber picking me up outside.”
“Are you coming?” Emma asks you, her eyes looking over towards the bar before asking, “Or are you going to stay?”
You follow her gaze, looking at Namjoon chuckling along with whatever the bartender is saying to him. A part of you is telling you to call it a night, but there is a bigger part of you that feels intrigued, and curious to see what would happen tonight if you choose differently. To be selfish for once.
“I think I’m going to stay.”
Your answer brings a smile to Emma’s face. She seems proud and—relieved. You have no idea why she would feel this way over your decision to stay for a man, but she simply nods and says, “All right, then I’ll ride with you, Chloe. I’ll see you on Monday, girl,” she says to you as she leans in for a hug and whispers, “Go get him.”
You watch your friends go before finishing the rest of your drink and leaving your seat. Before you can change your mind, your legs take you towards the bar, returning to Namjoon’s side as if you are drawn to him like a moth to flame.
“Are you calling it a night too?” Namjoon asks you when he notices you coming, his gaze flickering to follow your friends as they weave through the crowd to find the exit door, as if expecting to see you following them.
“I don’t really want to go home yet.” You bite your lips. “I think I’m going to have another drink before leaving. Are you planning on leaving early?”
The smile that grows on Namjoon’s face makes your heart flutter. He does look good when he smiles. “And waste the chance to drink with you? No way.” You take the empty seat that he offers right next to him, which he gently pulls closer once you are settled in. “Let me order for you. What are you having?”
“Surprise me.”
Smiling, Namjoon orders you a Moscow Mule, causing you to raise your brows. “You ordered the same drink twice while you were here.”
“You have quite a good memory,“ you tease him, “Are you sure you don’t work here?”
Namjoon laughs. His eyes glimmer under the dim lighting when he says, “You’re not the kind of woman that I’d be so easy to forget.”
You can barely hold back from laughing, because you cannot find it in you to agree.
“You don’t believe me when I say that you’re not easy to forget?” he asks, moving closer to you until you can breathe in the musky cologne he is wearing.
“Me? I’m nothing special. I’m just”—you breathe out a sigh—”just me.”
He takes your hand, sliding his fingers to your wrist, his thumb finding your pulse where he rubs in circles. “I don’t know you very well—yet—but from what I’ve seen, ‘just you’ seems pretty damn special.”
You laugh again and take a drink, murmuring softly to him, “Thanks.”
He looks down for a moment, as if considering what to say. But he seems more determined when he lifts his gaze and looks back at you. There is something in his eyes which draws out the flutters in your chest. A new look which you have yet to see coming from him during the short time you’ve known him.
The look which shows a different kind of want.
And you can only guess what he is thinking right now. Biting your lips, you wait until he says the words, because there is nothing that you want more right now but to go with him. You enjoy talking to him, to be in his presence, and you have a feeling that you might enjoy it more if he offers something more.
It’s just one night, so you can possibly handle it. Right?
Fuck. All of a sudden, you don’t feel too sure about it.
But the gentle touch of his fingers on your skin, together with the deep timber of his voice when he hums, is slowly enticing you to open up, to give in to chance.
Namjoon’s eyes meet yours and the same dimple smile of his returns. You swallow hard, ignoring the sound of your pounding heart as he asks,
“Do you want to get out of here?”
Biting your lips, you can feel your chest tightening. Your heart beating fast. Hard. Your body moves to lean closer even without you meaning it to.
“Yes,” you whisper, and his face lights up, as if he was almost sure that you were going to refuse.
“Your place, or mine?”
A simple question, made with a light tone of voice that sounds almost joking, except that Namjoon’s heart is beating rapidly inside his chest as he says it. He already risked everything when he first asked to take you away from here. Now, it feels as if he is risking a bit more as he waits for your answer.
You bite your lips, and your hesitance only makes him feel worse. “Is there any difference?”
Namjoon wants to say, no, it doesn’t. The only thing that matters is for him to be spending this night with you. You push your hair back, and when your eyes meet his, he can almost feel your heart beating right up against his.
“Are your kids home tonight?” Namjoon tries when you’re not too sure. Somehow, he understands that you might be wary about coming home to his place when you barely know him.
“No, they’re at my parents.”
A smile is lifted on his face. “Then are you going to take me home?”
You return his smile and lean closer. It amazes him how quickly you switch—from shy and hesitant at one point, to feeling more confident and daring the next. And it turns him on even more when you say, “Only if you promise that you’re going to be a good boy.”
Namjoon calls an Uber to take you both home while you make a quick stop at the restroom before leaving the place. In the short time that he has to wait for you, Namjoon struggles to keep his composure. It’s almost laughable the way it makes him feel like a newbie. For him to feel so nervous as if he is inexperienced in this.
In a way, this is something new for him. Enough to make him feel exhilarated about what is to come.
He turns just in time to see you walking up to him. As if your moment away had given you the chance to recoup and find some resolve, you look as if you are shining, your smile looking bright and your eyes filled with lust and want and it takes everything in him not to pull you into his arms here and now just to kiss you senseless.
“Take me home, mama,” he jokingly says when he opens the car door for you, making you laugh.
Instead of answering him, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him in with you until you are seated in the backseat of the car together, bringing the heat that you share into the confines of the car as it takes you back home.
In the tight space within the car, the heat that has been building up between you becomes more palpable. You can tell that he is feeling it too. And he seems to be giving into it, when he keeps running the tips of his fingers from your hand to your wrist, when his knees keep pressing against yours, and when his eyes keep trailing from your face, down to your cleavage, and then back up to your neck, before lingering on your lips.
He wets his lips, as if he is picturing himself tasting you with a kiss. “Can I be honest with you?” he whispers, leaning closer.
“Of course.”
“I…couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admits with a soft chuckle. It seems that his confession surprises him just as much as it does to you.
“Since the fire alert?”
“No,” he says with a grin, “ever since the night we first met.”
Was it at the supermarket? You wonder to yourself, trying to figure out what he could have possibly seen in you that night through the chaos with your girls.
No, it was before, you begin to realise, as you recall the night of the cookout event at your neighbours’ backyard, when Namjoon lingered close by after sharing a quick chat with you, and when you caught him watching you from the side while you were helping your daughters with their dinner plates.
“I told myself after watching you go that night that I shouldn’t get my hopes up, since you seemed to have a lot going on already and I probably didn’t deserve any second of your time. But then I saw you at the supermarket and I couldn’t resist saying hello.” His eyes find yours. You have no idea what kind of expression you are giving him while you are loss for words, but Namjoon’s smile softens. “And just when I thought it couldn’t have been more than a coincidence, we got the call to your office and there you were. It feels like we just keep crossing paths with each other. As if I am made to make a move.”
Noticing that you have grown silent, Namjoon tilts his head and asks, “What’s wrong?”
With a bitter laugh, you can only shake your head. “Nothing, it’s just—” You bite your lips, hating the way your insecurities have always been able to come to the surface the moment you try to push against your boundaries, when you try to take risks like what you are doing tonight. But you simply cannot help it. The feeling is clawing at your chest that you can barely breathe. “You know you could’ve gotten home with someone else. Someone who isn’t—”
You try to look away, yet Namjoon isn’t having it. With his fingers on your chin, he turns your face gently so you are forced to look at him again. “Is not—what?”
Your throat feels tight and your mouth feels bitter when you answer, “Older. A single mom. A—”
Namjoon presses his thumb on your lips to stop you from speaking further. “Remember what I told you earlier, and I really meant it,” he says, his gaze softening and heating up at the same time. “You are special. If you had said no to me tonight, I would’ve gone home alone, and spent the rest of the night finishing the last cans of beer I still have in my fridge or eating any frozen leftovers I could find before passing out on the couch.”
You blink. His honesty surprises you, yet you would be lying if you told yourself that it doesn’t make you feel flattered to hear him choosing you.
As if there is a switch inside you that has been flipped, everything fades to the back of your mind. All the voices that keep putting you down are silenced. The only thing left in your mind is the image of this gorgeous man spending his night alone in his quiet home, eating one of those boxed meals you saw peeking through his grocery bag and downing beers until he falls asleep, and you decide that you are not having it.
Seems like you are not the only one who needs to take some risks tonight just to experience some changes in life.
“Yep. That’s it. I’m sending you dinner next time.”
Namjoon laughs. “What—?”
Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you pull him down to you and press your lips on his, putting his words—and your thoughts—to silence with a kiss.
“I’m sorry for the mess. The perks of having little kids are always having too many things scattered around the house, and—”
It is still surprising to see how easy and quickly you change depending on the moment. You keep going from Miss In Control to a more subdued figure filled with insecurities. Namjoon knows that he shouldn’t, but he is adamant about changing that tonight, even if it makes him feel a myriad of things inside when you show multiple sides of you at once.
“It’s all right,” he cuts you off with a half smile, noticing how nervous you are getting about showing him your home.
As you move aside to start taking off your shoes and coat, Namjoon kicks his own shoes off and takes a quick glance around. Most of the lights are off, yet he can still see through the dim lighting to see what he needs to see.
Much like his own house, your place has an open space concept, where everything is visible from the foyer. He looks at the living room to his right, where the flat television hangs against the wall, surrounded by wooden shelves filled with books and trinkets and boxes filled with toys. To his left is the open kitchen, the room is slightly more spacious than his, and cleaner, with a hint of the scent coming from the last meal you cooked today still wafting through the air.
Truth be told, he doesn’t mind at all about how the house looks like at the moment. He even thinks that your home feels comfy, more welcoming and lively than his own, which makes him feel good and warm inside as he steps onto the threshold of your home.
Still, right now, he has other—more important—things to pay close attention to.
Namjoon waits until you are done taking your coat off before approaching you.
He places an arm around your shoulders, hinting at his need to get closer. When you show no sign of pushing him away, he pulls you towards him gently, and you willingly lean into him until you are engulfed completely in his warmth, and he feels your soft body pressing against his hard muscles. He bends down and your lips meet each other, warm and welcoming as they mesh into a kiss.
For a split second, Namjoon can feel you hesitating. But then your arms come up to wrap around him before returning the kiss. It feels gentle and soft, yet Namjoon can feel every cell in his body lighting up at the touch, and he allows that hope he ignored before to rise as he melts into the kiss
Namjoon is a firm believer that a person can tell quite a lot about the other by the way they kiss, and that the first kiss will define how the night will continue.
He feels you parting your lips slowly as your fingers curl into fists, balling the back of his shirt. He can taste the fruity taste of your lip-gloss which you put on during your toilet break before the two of you left the bar, and he can also taste a hint of the drink you had as he lightly brushes the tip of his tongue against yours.
The simple contact earns a soft hum from your throat, and then you tip your head back and open your mouth, asking him for more. He gladly gives it to you as he slides one hand up your waist and cups your cheek, deepening the kiss. Your grip around him tightens when his tongue pushes past your lips, bringing heat all over your body and his as he devours your mouth, and you respond by pressing your hips into his.
Feeling like he is burning from within, Namjoon starts to pull away. But you are not having it. You move your hand to his face, and then bring him back down until his lips are back on yours. You take charge this time, kissing him as if your very existence depends on it, and Namjoon smiles into the kiss as he follows your lead.
Tonight is going to be a good night.
As your mind grows hazy from the heated kiss, you start stumbling back until you are pressed against the front door.
It rattles under your weight, and starts making other noises when Namjoon presses harder against you the deeper the kiss you share. You feel his feet moving, sliding between your legs, only to stop when his toes come in contact with one of Hana’s squeaky toys that had somehow fallen in the foyer.
You break away from the kiss at the sound of his deep chuckle. The way he seems more amused than he is annoyed pleases you so that your body grows impossibly hotter. How can something so simple as a guy chuckling over a simple kid toy, completely understanding it instead of getting angry and complaining over something so trivial—just like someone you once knew and wish so badly to forget—look so incredibly hot?
Expecting to hear him say something about it, you lift your face to look at him, only for Namjoon to bend lower again and try to kiss your lips. Bunching his shirt with your fingers, you stop him and start pushing him through the dark hall and into the kitchen, where you know there won’t be any trail of toys getting in the way.
Namjoon lets you drag him around with a grin on his face. It seems to please him that you are the one taking the initiative, showing him that you want him just as much as he does.
As you push him deeper into the kitchen, your hands tracing his hard chest and your lips nipping his jawline, you wonder where all of this confidence is coming from.
It could be coming from the buzz rushing through your mind and body. It could also be this want inside you which has been lying dormant for so long, awakened simply by the heat of his kiss. Either way, you are surprised to find how easy it is to simply give in. To follow what your heart desires as if it is guiding you through the motions.
While most of the lights have been turned off when you left your house earlier, the light from the microwave is on, casting a soft, golden glow which falls nicely on him, accentuating every line—both on his face and his body—which you desire so badly to touch and kiss and taste.
You pull him down for that desirable kiss, and he dives straight down, his lips crashing into yours. And then he starts kissing you fast, hard, as if his very existence depends on this kiss. You kiss him back with the same need, taking his lip between your teeth, drawing a soft sound coming out of his throat. His chest rumbles against yours as he gently pushes you backwards.
Namjoon pins you against the kitchen counter, placing you between the hard counter and his rock-hard chest. He moves his knees between your legs, keeping them apart. You can feel his cock straining against his jeans as he bucks his hips forward, pressing roughly into your stomach. Then he moves his mouth to your neck, kissing, sucking, making you moan, distracting you from the object of his desire that you want so badly to touch.
Without unlatching his lips from your skin, Namjoon sweeps his fingers across your collarbone, finding the strap from your top that is already hanging off your shoulder. He pulls away, his dark gaze following his fingers as he unhooks the other strap off your shoulder until your top falls down to your waist, exposing your lacy dark purple bra which you had intentionally chosen for the night.
He watches closely as your chest rises and falls with your ragged breath, murmuring softly, “Beautiful. You are so hot, baby.”
Your entire body shudders with the sound of his deep voice, recognising the hunger in it. Heat forms in your belly after knowing that his words are meant for you. He slowly walks his palms up your body, reaching up to cup your breasts with his strong palms.
A moan slips out of your lips at his touch, when the gentle pressure he is giving on your mounds sends heated sparks through your body. The sound you are making seems to snap something in him, as he moves his mouth back to yours, kissing you softly, teasing, while his thumbs begin to move over your covered nipples in small circles.
You draw a sharp inhale of breath at the delightful sensation he is making you feel, which is swallowed by his kiss. Your chest rises, pressing your breasts into his palms. The shiver running through your body feels so intense, blocking everything else as you push your tongue back into his mouth at the same time your hands slip under his shirt.
His skin feels warm. His chest feels firm and broad. You can feel his breath hitching at the touch of your fingers, his body shivering as your hands start inching closer and closer to his cock as you walk them down his torso.
It draws a deep groan from him, yet he keeps kissing you. He continues to caress your breasts until your nipples grow hard against his palms, and that is when he finally moves his hands down. You only get to pop the button of his jeans open before he catches your wrists, stopping you from going further as he brings them to your back, pinning them together to confine you.
You push and strain against his grasp, only to fail when his hold is firm. Surprisingly, being restrained in his hold and losing control is not making you feel powerless. Instead, it becomes a complete turn-on to have someone taking control of you that your body heats up with a stronger need for more.
Shocked at this revelation, you pull back with a gasp.
“Let me touch you,” you whine as you try to pull your hands out of his, drawing a deep chuckle from him.
“Not yet, baby,” he murmurs against your lips. “I want to see all of you first.”
He kisses you again, deep enough to make you arch your back so your hips are pressed into his. You widen your legs and he presses forward, his toned thigh pressing at your pulsing center. The sensation you feel as you begin rubbing your covered pussy over his thigh feels explosive, and it is driving you insane that you cannot touch him at the same time.
You feel him smiling in the kiss, clearly enjoying this; your desperation and need, and the way you are chasing for pleasure even under his restraint. He moves his mouth to your neck again, nipping at the skin. You try to twist your arm to set yourself free, but Namjoon lifts his head to stop you with a look.
“These naughty hands need to stay back, baby. Do you hear me?” he asks as he guides your hands to rest against the small of your back, your wrists resting on the hard countertop pressing from behind you.
Your mouth falls open, but every complaint and defiance that you want to give him fades under his dark gaze. Pulling away, Namjoon grabs the hem of your top and pulls it over your head, dropping it behind him, before he once again guides your hands to return to their position on your back. He leans back just enough for him to run his gaze over your body, giving you an appreciative look while humming softly.
The heat of his gaze only brings back your insecurities, however, as you grow nervous under his trailing eyes, and you look away, casting a quick glance down your middle. Having two kids over the years has left a few things behind; light scars, stretch marks marring your skin, and uneven curves forming in places which you can only hide under your daily clothes. You realise only now one of the many reasons why you had never considered dating and being intimate again with someone—anyone—and much less have any interest in having hookups or one-night-stand.
Namjoon notices the change of mood in your silence. He captures your chin and gently draws your gaze back to his face. “Don’t be shy,” he murmurs as he presses a light kiss on your lips, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
You blink, once again his words winning as you feel your heart strengthening, gaining back your confidence. “You really think so?” you ask him after taking an audible breath.
“God, yes,” he says with a slight groan in his voice, drawing a soft giggle out of you. “Don’t you ever question it, baby.”
Biting down your smile, your eyes flutter down with pleasure and relief. “Good.”
“Now, where were we?” he asks as he lets go of your chin, his arms dropping to his sides. He reaches down to unbutton your tight pants, yet you beat him to it when you take the hem of his shirt in your hands and help him pull it off, before tossing it away out of reach.
“Naughty girl. What did I say about those hands?” he asks, and then he is kissing you again to distract you from taking back control.
He wraps his arm around your waist. For a second, you expect him to lift you up and set you up on the counter. Just like those scenes you have often read in the spicy romance book you have edited over the years. But then he surprises you when he lifts you up to carry you away, taking you towards the dining table instead.
With your eyes fluttering close in the kiss, the only thing you notice is the sound of the chair scrapping on the floor, before he releases you and falls back. Your mind is hazy when you open your eyes, seeing him sitting back on the dining chair while guiding you to stand between his parted legs.
Swaying a little, you lean into his touch as he sneaks his fingers down the waistband of your tight pants and begins pulling them down. “Let me see these off, baby.”
He doesn’t have to say it twice, as you slip your thumbs down the band of your pants and begin wiggling it down your legs. You keep your eyes on him while kicking the pants away, ignoring the shudder running through your body at the heat of his gaze and the chill breeze falling on your exposed skin.
Sneaking a glance down your body, you follow his gaze to be able to see what he is seeing. You are relieved that you had at least thought of choosing a matching pair of new undergarments to wear tonight, instead of wearing your old mismatched ones like you usually do when you have to rush in the mornings.
Standing in front of him like this makes you feel self-conscious. But the desire that is so palpable in his eyes helps you ignore all unappealing thoughts you ever have about yourself.
Smiling coyly to him, you sweep your hands up your stomach, slowly reaching up over your breasts. His hands begin to clench on his side as he watches you kneading your covered breasts. You watch him licking his lips when you press your breasts until they come together, offering him with a gentle voice, “Do you like what you’re seeing? Do you want me to take this off too?”
“No, not yet. I want to enjoy seeing you like this a bit longer,” Namjoon answers you with a deep voice that sounds almost like a growl. “Come here.”
At his gentle command, your legs move on their own, taking you closer to him. He grabs your waist, keeping you steady as you climb onto his lap, your legs spreading wide around his waist and your arms come around his broad shoulders.
Being in this position allows you to feel everything. To feel more.
Every part of him feels hard against your soft body. His warmth comes pressing on every inch of your skin, allowing you to feel the heat rushing under, pooling from between your legs. You feel exposed, and the sensation is intensified as you have your legs opened for him.
Smiling, Namjoon walks his hand around your waist. With his palm splayed on your back, he gently pushes you forward. Once again, you collide into each other, your breasts are crushed against his chest, and your lips are entangled with his in a hard, needy kiss.
His kiss is slow, gentle, almost languid. Almost as if he is trying to savour the moment, yet it feels as if you are melting into him. You can still feel him taking control of this moment when his lips are pressing hard against yours and his tongue slipping into your mouth to swallow the sounds you are making.
In the rising pleasure, your brain is slowly turning into mush. Your eyes flutter close, and you revel in the sensations that he is bringing to your body, to every single touch and kiss. You drown yourself in his heated kiss, as he swallows your moans with his mouth and tongue. You lean into his strong hands as one moves up your stomach, cupping your breast and rubbing against your hardened nipple, and the other moves along the curves of your body, trailing down your waist to your hips, before cupping your soft bottom.
His palm presses harder into your soft flesh, making you grow alert of your own movements, finally noticing that your body seems to have gained a mind of its own, moving and grinding his lap in the heat of the moment.
Your covered center starts growing hot and wet as you keep rubbing against his hips. A gasp escapes your throat as you feel his covered hard-on pressing at your pulsing center. Using his palm, Namjoon guides your steady rocking, each thrust forward falling in tune with each thrust and stroke of his tongue in your mouth.
Within moments, the heat inside your core rising into small waves of pleasure. Drunken in lust, you lean into him more to chase it, rocking harder, faster, pressing more into his hard cock until you feel like you are hanging on the edge of release.
“Oh, God,” you gasp against his mouth, moments too close to your first orgasm.
Namjoon mutters a curse, and his hands tighten on the soft flesh of your bottom, putting everything into a halt. He flips you around to face away from him, doing it with such ease as if you weigh nothing. As you fall back against his chest, your knees drape over his thighs, spreading wide, your throbbing pussy facing away from his heat, away from the its final release.
“You need relief, baby?” His voice sounds thick as he whispers to your ear. Without waiting for your answer, his fingers zero in on the exact place where you need them to be, as he begins rubbing your clit from over your delicate panties. “Hmmm? I need you to answer me. Let me know what you want.”
“Yes,” you hiss at his touch, barely able to answer his question while urging him on as you rock your hips into his touch. Namjoon’s other hand moves up to cup your breast, kneading and squeezing until you feel your nipple growing hard under your bra. The ache building on your breasts pulses in the same rhythm as the throbbing you feel building on your clit, which he presses the pad of his fingers onto, moving them in circles.
“God, Namjoon,” you whine, already panting when he keeps touching all the right places, inciting all the reactions from your body as heat rises from your core. Reaching down, you place your hand over his, your fingers pressing atop of his strong digits as you press against them, causing his touch to grow firm and steady, before you slip your fingers under and slide your panties aside for him.
Namjoon’s chest rumbles as he groans deeply. “Oh, yeah, that’s it, baby. Offer that sweet little pussy for me.”
Your cheeks flush with warmth upon hearing his words, and then the warmth spreads through your body when his fingers move to touch your flesh. His fingers are big and strong, yet delicate at the same time. They glide over your slit, which has grown embarrassingly wet, capturing every essence of your arousal as he moves them between your folds. You press your pelvis down to meet his touch, urging him on, and he complies by working his middle finger inside you.
It feels like forever since the last time you have had sex, and it surely shows because you can already feel your orgasm building the second he starts pumping his finger inside you. The pleasure feels maddening. Enough to make you lose control of yourself as your body rocks with him. You don’t even recognise the sounds coming out of your throat as you embrace the sensations he brings out of you.
As he feels you giving in to the pleasure, Namjoon adds a second finger, stretching you further.
Your head falls back on his shoulder as you cry out with pleasure. Your body falls lax against him, powerless against his touch. So he moves his other arm down, wrapping it around your waist to keep you from falling as he continues thrusting his fingers in and out, all while pressing the heel of his palm against your clit until you are weeping with desire. When he abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, your pussy clutches on emptiness.
Needing friction, or something to relief this new need of yours, you begin pressing your wet mound against his thigh, intending to start rubbing against it until you find some kind of release. But Namjoon stops you by delivering a sharp slap, right between your legs.
“Naughty,” he growls in your ear. “I thought this pussy is mine?”
Your hips shoot up at the lingering ache, which awakens the throbbing inside your pussy, causing your mind to go fuzzy with the mixed of pain and pleasure he brings to your body.
Namjoon spanks your pussy again, lighter this time, before going slightly harder when coming back for the third time. Then, as if he knows that you are about to explode, he shoves two fingers right back inside you and starts fucking you with them, moving hard and rough, no longer holding back. It feels intense, sending you light speed towards the peak of your pleasure.
With a cry slipping out of your lips, your head falls back on his shoulder as the wave of pleasure engulfs you. Digging your nails into his forearms, you ride his fingers, bucking against each thrust of his hand, your walls clenching tightly around him, and your toes curling underneath. Your orgasm comes to you strongly, going on and on while Namjoon keeps his fingers wedged inside you, and you can feel your walls contracting around them as you come all over them.
Dear God, help me.
You find yourself praying. Never before had you ever lost control the way you do now. Never once have you ever felt so much pleasure, to make you feel something so intense that you feel like you are losing your mind.
Namjoon waits until you come down from your release before easing his fingers out of you. Your body grows limp against his, causing him to wrap his arms tighter around you to hold you still. His lips find your shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss while he smooths your panties back in place.
“That’s it, sweet mama. Relax with me,” he murmurs in your ear, helping you calm down before rearranging your position until you come to face him once more, your legs straddling his toned thighs, pressing against his muscles, his warmth, and the rapid pounding of his heartbeat under your palms.
“Everything okay?”
You are still too delirious that you can barely think straight, yet you manage to nod and whisper, “Yeah. Everything’s good.”
Looking into his eyes, you reach down between your bodies and press your palm over his covered bulge. “But I’m not sure that you’re feeling the same.”
Groaning deeply, Namjoon’s eyes flutter to close. You continue stroking his covered cock, feeling it hardening under your touch and pushing against his pants that is partly undone. “Keep touching me like that, mama. And I’ll fuck you right here, right now. Or I’ll take you right on top of that counter, right where you’ll be making breakfast for your sweet girls the first morning they’re home.”
His threat draws a moan from deep within your throat. Biting your lips, you steal a glance towards the kitchen counter. As tempting as it sounds to follow your wanton desire, to be taken hard and rough right where you spend most of your days and mornings, you want something different. You don’t want this to end so quickly, for the night to feel so instant, and you want to savour this pleasure for as long as you are allowed to.
“Mmm…No, we can’t have that,” you whisper, turning to him to nip his jaw, making him groan. Carefully, you step back from his lap. Your legs are trembling when you try to stand on your own, yet you muster a smile as you calmly say, “Come.”
You hold out your hand and he grabs it as he rises to his feet. He follows you down the hall and up the stairwell. Past the landing which is surrounded by framed pictures of yourself with your family and your sweet girls and their creative drawings filling the walls, you continue walking upstairs, feeling more self-conscious the closer you get to your bedroom.
Right before your nerves begin to get in the way, Namjoon’s arms come around you, holding you to his chest as you crash through the doorway to your bedroom. His lips capture yours, swallowing the sound of your laughter until you fall backwards on the bed.
Standing on the foot of the bed, Namjoon stands tall, a solid figure standing at the center of your world of chaos. He says nothing as he runs his gaze over your body, appreciating what he sees one last time which brings back your confidence. All for knowing that he is liking what he sees.
Drawn by the urge to touch him, to feel, you push yourself up and start tugging his pants down. “Off—” you murmur as you struggle to peel the damn thing off of him, earning his chuckle. Namjoon helps you halfway, stopping briefly to pull something out of his back pocket before he tosses his whole pants away. He wastes no more time to continue where he left off, as he pushes you back to the bed and lowers himself to you.
Your arms go around his shoulders to welcome him. Your eyes meet each other again, allowing you to see something that you failed to notice before. Behind his heated gaze, the warm dimple smile, and the alluring words filled with his raw desire, lies another emotion haunting like a shadow.
An emotion that you know too damn well as it mirrors your own.
Desperation.
Swallowing hard, you feel the same emotion coming out of you in strides; the desperation to belong and to be happy; to be able to move through life without being haunted by the unwarranted fear of getting hurt. The desperation to feel.
Allowing that emotion to take over, you pull him down to you and kiss him deeply. You run your hands down his back, pressing at his spine until he lowers his hips onto yours. You can feel his hard cock pressing on you, its wet tip sticking out from the top of his briefs, rubbing against your skin. You regret not having the chance to have a look at it, to appreciate it through more than your dainty touch. Yet you cannot deny the desperate need to feel him inside you, filling you up until there is nothing left of you when he is done.
Arching your back, you rock against him, pressing your tender center against his bulge. His mouth unlatches from yours, and then he pulls the lacy cups of your bra with a rough tug, tucking them under your breasts to push them up. He keeps his palms on them, touching them directly this time, skin to skin, bringing all the shudders back and rising twofolds as you cry out his name.
His mouth finds your neck, and the touch of his lips is almost enough to make you come and unravel right there and then, yet you manage to hold back with a bite of your lip. Without taking his mouth off of you, Namjoon runs his hand down, finding your center and pressing down. The pleasure sparks through your body like fireworks as he rubs in circles against your covered center, pressing against your slit, rubbing at your covered clit, and then finding your wetness to draw out more essence out of you.
Every nerve in your body comes awake and lights up at the same time, allowing you to feel everything that he is giving you. Engulfed in the pleasure, you barely feel him as Namjoon starts moving down, spreading his fingers down your thighs to part your legs for him, before plunging his head between your quivering thighs.
You feel a soft tug at your panties, and then cold breeze touches your skin as Namjoon slides the center of your panties aside, exposing your tender pussy. “I wanted to taste you so badly,” he murmurs against your skin as he presses his lips on the apex of your thigh, then he moves to the other side, before reaching to the center, drawing a sharp cry out of you when he presses a kiss right at your folds.
His tongue drags through your flesh before he sucks gently on your swollen bud. A shiver shoots right up through your body as pleasure sparks from beneath, and he starts fucking you with his tongue. In and out he presses and licks with his warm, soft tongue, tasting your essence with a deep hum, while his mouth keeps stealing a kiss and sucking, intensifying the pleasure.
With your hands sinking into the sheets beneath you, your hips begin to move, rocking against his mouth and riding the sensation as it grows more and more intense. You lift your head to watch him work. The look he gives you when he returns your gaze causes your body to twitch, your muscles tightening as pleasure coils through your core.
With a grin, Namjoon buries his face deeper, his teeth grazing at your clit before lapping at the swollen bud with his tongue to take away the pinch of pain. The sensation sends your body falling back. Still rocking your hips to ride the pleasure, you twist the sheets in one hand, and then take a handful of his short hair with the other.
It doesn’t take long before the familiar wave of pleasure starts rolling through your body, rising intensely from the depth of your core. Your breath quickens as you are climaxing into his mouth. It comes so strongly that you can feel it rushing all the way down to your toes. A series of breathless moans come out of your lips at the same pace as the pulses of pleasure coming alight from inside as your orgasm rolls through your body.
Your head is ringing with the waves of your orgasm that you barely aware of how you are pulling at his hair, twisting the short strands in your grasp as you writhe beneath him. Yet he doesn’t stop. Not even when he feels you slowly coming down from your high.
Namjoon continues to lap at your taste, licking away your release as he murmurs gently against your mound, “Fuck, you taste so damn good, baby.”
His voice fades in and out of you, until he slips a finger inside you, pressing against your inner walls. He pushes right in, curling the tip as he pulls out, finding the sweet spot that sends another jolt of pleasure through your body. Realising this, he adds another finger and starts working them at the same rhythm as the movement of his tongue. Your legs begin shaking, your hips are rising against his other palm that is resting on your lower belly to keep you down, but nothing holds you from erupting as the force of your second orgasm quickly rolls through you, sending you over the edge with a cry.
You feel a shift on the bed as Namjoon moves on top of you and presses his lips on yours. The remnants of your orgasm is still pulsing through you, and your ears are still ringing, that you can only take what he is giving you, letting him bring you back to the present with his kiss.
Once you manage to catch your breath, you bring your hands up to him and start pushing his briefs down his hips. He rises slightly from you, taking away his weight and his warmth as he kicks his briefs down his ankle and away. His hand reaches down, wrapping his fingers around his hard girth.
This time, you take the chance to appreciate his beauty. Just like his hard body, his cock seems beautiful, big and thick and heavy even in his strong palm.
With his eyes on your face, Namjoon begins lowering himself on you. Your hips rise to welcome him when you feel his cock falling heavy on your stomach. Your hand reaches down between you, as if you are under a spell. Your fingers wrap around him, drawing a soft gasp from his lips.
Licking your lips, you watch yourself giving him a few light strokes. He seems to enjoy this, as his hips slowly move to return each stroke, each brush of your palm with a thrust of his cock. Groaning deeply, Namjoon bends down to cover you with his hard body. His lips find your neck, kissing the column of your throat as his fingers return to your mounds, pressing into your slit and using the slickness of your arousal and release to move around your entrance.
“Namjoon, please—” Your breath catches when you feel the tip of his finger pressing at your entrance, pushing against your sensitive walls. He enters you slowly with his fingers. It feels delightful, yet you are ready to feel more. “Mhhh…not enough,” you whine breathlessly, “I want you…inside…now.”
He chuckles against your throat, and the vibrations you feel coming from his body aren’t exactly helping to lessen the pool of desire between your legs, nor the tight clench of your walls around his fingers. He gives your pussy a few more thrusts of his fingers before he pulls them out, and reaches out to the other side of the bed.
The soft crinkle sound of a foil gets your heartbeat speeding up in your chest. It’s happening, the voice in your head whispers. Excitement rolls through you, and a wicked through flashes through your head when you meet his gaze again.
You bite your lip and smile, and then you lift your hands, pushing against his shoulders to bring him down onto the mattress. You follow him as he falls back, and then you climb on top of him, enjoying the thrill rushing through you when you see the shock clearly flashing through his gaze.
He grips your hips as you straddle him, keeping you steady until you are sitting in the right position. So right that you can feel his hard cock pressing at your slick center from beneath.
“Well, damn,” he chuckles as he watches you press down your hips on him. “That’s it. Take control, mama. Show me what you want from me.”
You make a humming sound as you begin rocking over him, pressing down against his length. Your panties have grown completely soiled, placed improperly over your mound that you can feel him partly rubbing against your skin. “You know what I want,” you whisper, moaning when you feel his girth rubbing at your clit.
Hoping to feel more, you continue rocking, rubbing your center along the length of his cock. But it isn’t enough. The panties keep getting in the way just when you are close to getting what you want. You reach down to begin peeling the damn thing off of you when Namjoon takes over.
“Let me help you with that,” he says, before he suddenly lifts himself up to a sitting position. His hands are quick to catch your waist to stop you from falling back, keeping you on his lap as he moves his hand to your back.
His eyes look down on your heaving chest, and then his hands are pulling at your undergarments. Starting from your bra, as he expertly peels it off of you within a blink of an eye, then continuing to reach down. The ripping sound of your panties as they fall apart fills the room before you can feel yourself being freed from its presence. The strong pull that he gives on the flimsy fabric barely feels like anything on your skin, your mind too muddled to process it until it is too late.
The moment it dawns on you what is happening, there is nothing else that you can do but to watch with wide eyes, mouth gaping in shock, as Namjoon lifts your ruined panties to his lips and breathes in.
“You won’t be needing them for a while,” he says with a hum at the sound of your sharp inhale of breath.
“You’re so bad.” An incredulous laugh comes out of you as he tosses the tattered panties away.
His hands return to your waist then and he pulls you closer, settling you down nicely on his lap as he asks, “Maybe I am. Are you going to punish me for being a bad boy?”
“Maybe I will,” you tease him as you run your fingers up his chest, pushing him back down. “Naughty boy.”
The glimmer of the foil he is holding between his fingers catches your attention. You pick it up, ripping the foil and letting the rubber fall on your palm. “Is this okay?”
He nods, and then his eyes darken as you gently slide the condom down the length of his cock. Your can feel him twitching under your touch, his head falling back briefly with a groan coming out of his throat when the tips of your fingers meet his skin. Once he is perfectly covered, you move back into position.
Namjoon gently guides you back over him, straddling him once again without anything else getting in the way this time.
You lean forward and place a kiss on his lips, one that feels a bit too sweet and shy. For a moment, your confidence wanes. Being on top of him, unrestrained, and being in complete control makes you feel subconscious with yourself. It makes you feel insecure, suddenly feeling worried that you might not be enough.
As you sit up, your pussy rocks against his cock. You can feel his girth pressing against the dampness which has been growing between your legs, the heat of his body radiates from him and it transfers through your body with each pulse of his blood that you feel against you.
His fingers find their place between your legs, rubbing your clit in slow circles, drawing moans after moans, shudders rolling through your body that you begin moving in response to his touch. Your hips buck up against his hand, desperate for friction. You continue rolling your body as he presses just a bit harder, drawing yet another moan from your lips that comes together with the intense shiver surging from your core.
Enjoying the way you are reacting to him, he rises up to steal a kiss, chuckling softly against your mouth when he feels the twitch of your hips when his cock is pressing harder against your folds. He pulls back, showing you his wicked grin that has your heart beating rapidly.
You lift your hips, and he reaches down to position his cock against your opening. Your body instantly trembles when you feel him nudging against your pussy, spreading your entrance to allow himself in. Then you begin to slide down on him, taking it slow as you take his cock inside you, inch by delicious inch. Your legs quiver around him as you feel him spreading your tight walls, yet you welcome him with a slow moan, allowing yourself to take him deeper as you continue going down, until he is almost fully inside you and you are nearly resting on his hips.
A pulse rocks through you once, and you carefully lift yourself up, sliding up his length and coming back down, getting deeper in your descent.
“You are so perfect,” he whispers to you as you continue riding his cock, keeping a slow pace as you adjust yourself to his size.
Namjoon falls back, letting you take control. Something that no other person has ever done before. He keeps his eyes on you as you continue moving on top of him, sliding up and down the length of his cock, while embracing the waves of pleasure that you get to feel from your constant rocking. His eyes are filled with admiration as he watches you move, your head falling back at the height of your pleasure, your chest arching, showing him the sight of your shaking breasts.
“You are so fucking hot,” he moans, taking your breasts in his hands. You relish every single sensation you are feeling with a moan. It feels incredible. Not just this—the sex, the feeling of him being buried inside your heat, filling you up and giving you pleasure—but also for feeling like you are free.
Sitting naked on top of such a gorgeous man, rocking up and down his cock, enjoying the pleasure without your nerves getting in the way, your insecurities left forgotten. It feels so damn empowering to be owning up to your sexuality, to your wanton desire, after having it denied for so long. All because of your haunting past making you feel like you are less than the person you are now.
These thoughts push you to ride him harder, faster, your fingers sinking into the sheets on either side of him to anchor you against him, while his fingers grow tighter on your hips to help you ride him to chase your pleasure.
“That’s it, baby,” he urges you on with a breathy voice, deep groans slipping out of him when you begin fucking him wildly. “Go on, let it go, mama.”
Holding you up against him, Namjoon begins rocking his hips, thrusting up to meet you in your descend. The maddening pleasure rocks through you, and another wave of climax sets off, coiling from your core, up to your lower belly. And right as you are ready to plunge into your climax, Namjoon bends forward, capturing one of your nipples with his mouth and begins sucking, while he reaches up to pinch the other with his fingers.
With a sharp cry, you unravel completely without fail. Your orgasm comes to you not in waves but an explosion, the pain only intensifies the pleasure as it hits, and your body trembles as you embrace it.
Everything fades in and out as your mind and body recovers from the intense high. Your legs are quivering too much that you fall onto his chest, and Namjoon carefully flips you to the side until you are on your back. Ears once again ringing, the sounds of him moving on the sheets seem so distant. But you can feel the dip when he lowers himself on you, his lips finding yours, bringing you back, and then pressing against your neck to quiet down the rapid pulsing of blood surging under your skin.
Once your mind regains clarity, you notice his hand moving. You open your eyes when you cannot feel his touch, and realise that he is giving himself some lazy strokes. “You haven’t gotten yours,” you whisper with a raspy voice, and his grin returns.
“You’ve already came too many times, so—”
Shaking your head, you reach up and pull him back to you. “I can’t be the only one feeling good tonight,” you insist as you capture his lips, enticing him with a light bite. As he returns the kiss, your legs spread open for him, welcoming him back to you. “I want to make you feel good too.”
Groaning, Namjoon deepens the kiss. Still stroking himself, he uses the other hand to gently touch your tender pussy, making sure that you won’t hurt if he continues. “Are you sure?” he murmurs against your lips, before feeling you nod.
Unable to wait long, he quickly gets between your legs again. He covers you with his heat, his toned chest pressing down against your body, delightfully engulfing you with his warmth. Then his hips rock forward, pressing the wet tip of his stiff cock against your pulsing heat. Your back arches the moment you feel him pushing, just enough until you feel the tip penetrating your entrance.
“Namjoon—” you gasp out his name, and his hands come down to your hips, holding you still as he enters you, thrusting deep and slow.
Your legs are spread wider, giving him room to get as deep as he possibly can until your hips are flushed against each other.
Fuck yes, you can hear yourself screaming in your head, while your mouth gapes open with a breathless moan at how full you are feeling with him snugged inside your pussy.
“God, fuck—you feel amazing,” he breathes out as he too becomes still.
Your body clenches around his cock at hearing his words, loving how his praise is stroking at your ego. It seems that your body has gotten used to him so well that he feels like a perfect fit inside you.
“You don’t feel too bad yourself,” you playfully tease him, making him groan deeply that you can feel his entire body vibrating all the way to your core.
“Not bad, huh?” he groans, almost sounding feral when he continues his gentle rocking. “Guess I’ll have to stop holding back, then.”
With a groan, he pulls back almost all the way out and thrusts back into you, rocking both of you against the mattress as he fucks you into it. You grab tightly on the messy sheets beneath you, already tangled by the previous rocking and fucking and growing even messier now that he is picking up pace immediately. It feels intense, making you feel delirious as he moves in and out of you rapidly. And it feels so damn good that you just don’t want it to stop.
“Oh, baby...so perfect,” he gasps, and you open your eyes to see his eyes glazing over with pleasure as he gets lost in your body.
It turns you on so badly to see a man unraveling this way—to be so lost in his pleasure and growing feral as he gives in completely to the sensation. At the same time, it makes you feel powerful, knowing that you are the one making him this way. For someone like him to let his guard down and show you the real part of him. To let you see how raw and passionate he becomes when he is bringing pleasure to both of your bodies.
It makes you feel so hot, and it feels so good, that it practically sends you straight into your final climax. To unravel the same way he does at the pleasure of his lovemaking.
“Keep tightening around me like that, and I won’t last long,” he warns you, while you can only hold back a grin. As if you will take his words like you would to a threat.
You run your hands up his chest, feeling up his toned muscles as they strain with each thrust he is giving you, before you reach up to the back of his neck and grab a handful of his short hair. A smile grows on your face when he lets out another groan, and his hips nearly buckle and twitch as his rocking begins to grow haste.
He’s close.
“Oh, fuck. I’m coming,” he groans, although it almost sounds like he is shouting.
“Yes, please. Come with me. I’m also there,” you whimper breathlessly when your orgasm starts to build.
His grip on your hips tightens as he begins pumping into you fast and hard, hitting all the right spots. You almost believe that he is also growing firmer, harder, bigger, that the only thing you can feel is him, rubbing against your throbbing walls and pushing you over the edge.
A scream slips out of you when the orgasm hits like a massive wave. Your back is almost lifted completely off the bed as your entire body vibrates with pleasure. You can hear him shouting under the sound of your rapid heartbeat, before you feel him pulsing, spilling his heat into you as he joins you in his own orgasm.
Your legs are wrapped around his hips while your arms are hooked around his neck as you hold onto him, refusing to let go as you relish the waves of your orgasm until they begin to settle. You have barely gotten back control of your breathing when he leans down, capturing your lips into a kiss.
The kiss is slow, almost languid, and just as gentle as the movement of his hands as he runs them down your sweaty body. You can still the spasms of your climax lingering as he slowly pulls out of you, allowing you to feel his presence even as he pulls away, dropping right beside you with a soft grunt.
Your eyes are already fluttering to close while he takes his time taking care of his soiled condom and tossing it away to the trash. Yet you are still coherent when he returns, engulfing you in his strong arms, filling your breath with his scent.
“That was fucking amazing,” he mumbles against your skin as you feel his lips pressing on your bare shoulder.
“Hmm…yes, it was…”
A sigh leaves your lips. The content feeling weaving through your body steals the words that you want so badly to say.
Incredible. Astounding.
“Magical,” you find yourself whispering, drawing a soft chuckle from him.
You look at him through your hazy eyes, finding him looking back at you with a different shadow lingering in his gaze which makes you want to say the words that you never expected you would say to him.
Stay the night.
The words die on your tongue as sleep is slowly dragging you down. You try to fight it, even if you aren’t quite sure about saying those words out loud. You have no idea what will come out of this. All you can think about is that you don’t want this to end too soon.
“The girls are out all weekend, aren’t they?” His voice breaks the silence, forcing you to open your eyes.
“Yes, they’re staying at their grandparents. I won’t have to pick them up until Monday afternoon,” you breathlessly answer, recalling faintly how your mother had offered to take Suzy to school and Hana to kindergarten so you wouldn’t have to drive all the way to her house on a Sunday, expecting you to sleep through your hangover and spend the day resting. “Why are you asking?”
“I just wasn’t sure how they would react coming home to find a grown-ass man snuggling with their mom.” He softly chuckles, and in a brief moment of silence, you see a different look appearing in his eyes. A part of him that seems more vulnerable coming out of him in waves, right before he asks you, “Unless you want me out of here?”
Once again, you can see yourself in his gaze. To once again share the same emotions, the same vulnerability which feels too damn familiar. Deep down, you start wishing that you didn’t see it. Because seeing this side of him only makes you care a lot more than you should for someone who is only supposed to be your one-night-stand. Because seeing it only makes you want more.
You close your eyes and try not to think too deeply about it. Not when your mind is still muddled from the wild sex you just had with him. And when his touch is still lingering on your skin.
You can worry about this tomorrow, you hear the same small voice in your head whispering, and you decide that you are going to listen this time.
Pushing yourself up, you pull the blanket from the foot of the bed and drag it up to cover both of your nakedness before sliding back to him. “Nope, you’re staying,” you firmly say as you tuck him in. “I promised to make you dinner, but I really don’t have any energy left to leave the bed right now, so you can make it up by helping me make breakfast tomorrow.”
Namjoon laughs. He visibly relaxes beside you when he mutters, “I love it when you boss me around.”
You stop to look at him, biting your lips before asking, “Would you mind if I keep doing that?”
His smile softens, and the alluring dimple returns for a brief second as he leans in to kiss your temple. “Boss me around anytime, mama. I’ll be good. I promise.”
Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this story, please leave a like and reblog to share with your friends and let me know what you think. See you in the next one! PS. You can get to know Jin the bartender and read his story in Blurred Lines. Update | you can read more in the short story: Dinner with Mista Joonie
— ©Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.
#namjoon scenarios#namjoon smut#k-vanity#bangtanwhq#namjoon fanfic#namjoon scenario#namjoon angst#namjoon fluff#namjoon x reader#bts fanfic#bts scenario#bts smut#bts angst#bts fluff#bts x reader
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💘Midnight's DCA Valentine's💘
The people wanted it, I'm here to provide it, it's Valentine's request time! See below for more details :D
Requests
I will have 14 slots available for requests. Which, is much less than last time, but I don't have time to do a month full of requests, and Valetine's day is the 14th sooo, yeah. BUT, length will be the same as December, 1000-2000 words.
Requests can be anything (again)! Just ask that they relate to Valentine's in some way, be that directly or indirectly and of course DCA-related.
As most know I am an X reader writer, but as long as my general request rules are followed, I don't mind writing for ocs, canon, etc.
fair warning though for the above, I am not familar at all with TSAMS and if you DO have a specific au, I will do my BEST to be accurate but cannot guarentee beyond that
For those who don't know my rules, no nsfw (suggestive is fine!), and if you want something specific, be specific. Besides that, it's fair game, request what you want!
Potential Issues & Schedule
If there is overlap between request ideas, they will be combined in some manner of speaking (if possible). If needed, I will reach out to you about adjusting ideas or the likes, though I don't forsee this happening. This would occur if for example, someone wants gift shopping with Sun with their oc, and someone else wants the same thing with a reader-insert. Whoever requested second would be who I reach out to.
Requests will be posted starting on February 1st & ending on the 14th!
I will be starting writing as soon as I get the first request, and since I'm in classes again now, I need to prepare as much as I can ahead of time so to not worry about getting behind. SO, requests will be open from today (January 18th) until next week January 25th. I know it's a short timeslot, but I need time haha 😅
To keep things organized, please request in the comments of this post. This also helps to potentially keep from overlap in requests, as you'll be able to see what else has already been requested. If you request in my ask box or such it'll make things a bit more difficult, so please avoid that.
HOWEVER, there is one exception to the above, which is if you wish to request anonymously, which is completely fine to do! But please only request in my ask box if you want to be anonymous. If overlap happens in that case, then y'all may just get two responses with similar vibes on the same day (essentially a bonus lol)
Sharing & More
Please feel free to share this post around, and request if you want to! Once I hit 14 unique ones I'll reblog this post with the announcement that requests are closed, so make sure to double check they aren't closed already prior to requesting!
I'll also post updates every couple of days regarding the status of total requests as well ^_^
Everything related to this will be under the tag #MM dca Valentine's, just in case there's another similar tag out there and I'm not just taking it for myself
I'm going to try and upload these in real time to ao3 so if you prefer to read there that will now also be an option! As opposed to having to wait for edits and such
Bonus little thing, if there's any artists out there that would maybe like to make some doodles to go along with these... let me know 👀👀 I would love to do it myself (same for the december requests) but I am unfortunately too slow a cooker to manage it 😔 would just be for funsies (i do not have the money for commissions so this would be volunteer-based) and no pressure to make something overtly intensive or the likes! I've never done this kind of thing before but I would probably send you the finished request/prompt ahead of time and you would (ideally) have a week or so to make something. Again, very small simple little doodle and if something comes up there would be no pressure to finish or such ^^
General update things from me
Hoping to finish up Holiday Spirit in the next week or so! shooting for ch. 3 to post today or tomorrow ^^
DCA December is now completely edited/posted to ao3 (will be posting the last couple chapters over the next few days)
Have decided that i WILL be holding off on posting Confused Spirit chapters 36, 37, 38 and will be writing them all together to make sure the plot points go correctly/how i envisioned
Cooking up some fun things for @/divinit3a's Cafe prompts, so expect to see those throughout the rest of the month :)
Okay that's all for now, goodbye!
Tag list for the usuals :D
@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay
#fnaf dca#dca fandom#fnaf daycare attendant#fnaf sun#fnaf moon#moondrop#sundrop#dca fic#x reader#MM dca Valentine's#hoping this one will go smoother (for me) than december#i think opening requests a little sooner will help for sure#very excited to see what people request#hit me with your best shot folks#i can take it (probably)#also if anyone can think up a better name lmk i had no ideas 😔
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Oh, nothing much, just a list of reasons why I am so excited to permashift to my ultimate 4d reality //better current reality//
∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘
— EXPERIENCING DESIRED SCENARIOS
I am a hardcore daydreamer just like my brother and sister shifters(you guys🫵🏾), and I can't wait to really live the silly imagines I always have in my head. Even if it's something relatively small, I will still get to live every second of them.
Idk if some of you guys will remember that one post where I mentioned Googlebox? But I'm mentioning it again🙄 because I scripted me, my love of my life, his sister who is my bff, my own girl bff and her boyfriend are part of the program teehee. I swear no one will ever understand how much of a comfort show Googlebox is to me and in general.
The idea of being on TV whilst watching TV and relaxing with my favourite people and eating my favourite food just makes me melt. It's such a core memory to me and idk I just love showing off how perfect my family is to everyone else
— FOOD
I can't wait for all the delicious food I'll get to eat. There will never be a single time where I have to eat something I don't like or don't want to ever again, because why should I have to? I'm mostly excited to have stuff like popeyes, McDonald's, seafood boils, those Korean and Japanese foods you see on mukbangs, loads of fruit bowls (I really do love fruit), basically everything meat/barbecue, pasta including ramen, and sweets too cus🧍🏿♀️🤷🏾♀️
— NO UGLY CLOTHES ALLOWED
Never will there be a day or night where I will ever need to wear clothes that don't suit me or clothes I don't like. My closet is going to be full of the cutest and gorgeous late 90s and early 2000s skirts, shirts, bellbottoms, flares, jackets, oversized ts, shorts, belts, slippers, jewelry, panties and bras etc etc
— ALREADY COMPLETED WORK
In my better cr, I scripted that I am already miles ahead of everyone in college work (and best believe all my work is at distinction level) so I have all the time in the world to do what I want until the next brief; I also scripted the date of month that I will wake up in my better cr in is the 17th April last week so I will have only 3 days of college next week (because i go in on mondays, tuesdays, wendsays and Thursdays) and 4 weeks of freedom to myself. (I also scripted my teachers let me do my own art work in my free time in class, cus sometimes all a girl wants to do is draw their ocs🥺)
Edit :: 17th of may now!!
— CURRENTLY IN MY MOVING ERA
In better cr, I am kind of in the planning process of moving out of my house to my apartment penthouse with my friend group. I'm thinking of moving out at 18 or 19 years old since I'm 17 rn and I still want to explore my better cr house cus it's wayyyy better than this one. But even once I've moved out I'll probably keep visiting my old home where my mum and her husband lives because.
∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘
Overall, I am so excited to experience everything I have ever dreamed of. I know I deserve my freedom and peace, excitement, and joy. Being able to just do what I want when I want and always knowing that no matter what, everything is going to be okay.
Life is so amazing, and it's so worth living. I know I will manifest my desired reality in no time, and I know all of the stress, time, anxiety, and patience won't be for nothing. Life is mine to explore, and I can't wait to do so
@4ellieluv @livingmydreamlife5555 @theshifterbear @cocozydiaries
#desired reality#master manifestor#4d reality#law of assumption#shiftblr#drself#loa#shifters#shifting#loa blog#loa advice#loassumption#loa tumblr#loa success#reality shift#shifted#reality shifting#shifttok#shifting community
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Hey boppers! Inspired by @almosthonest's post, I decided to make my own Warriors OC and share how they got initiated! I hope you guys enjoy it and feel inspired to do it as well :3
————————w————————
Burn Bright, Hilda Hurricane!
Pablo did not expect to make his mom so fucking angry.
Actually, everything about this was a consequence of a huge miscalculation, since he wasn't expecting to see her at all that day. He reflected on his own bad luck as he ran through the dark streets, already far from home, with nothing more than a worn backpack, makeup smeared with tears and a knot in his chest.
Throughout his ridiculously short 17 years of existence, Pablo has always struggled with one thing or another. Being born in an immigrants family trying to find his place culturally — neither fully being his family's nationality, neither fully American — was hard enough; when he realized that there was something wrong with himself that made him attracted to the neighborhood boys instead of the girls, he went through yet another identity crisis, which turned into a very well-kept secret.
After the first time he stole his mother’s makeup and clothes during a particularly inspired night, everything went downhill and he simply stopped caring so much.
He stopped caring about the glares and the comments, because in order to feel bad, one must feel alive above all things; if he only felt alive doing what he did, what's the point in feeling bad? Was it wrong for him to exist?
In his honest opinion, no, it was not. Still, his family was a completely different subject, as the bonds of blood are meant to be different from those forged out in the forest of steel and concrete. His mother was always very strict and stressed, it was almost comical how she passed herself off as a perfect portrait of the "Latina mother" stereotype, but she was not only that: she could also be loving and caring. Pablo always knew that, despite everything, he would always have his mother by his side.
This trust, or rather, hope, made the pain of betrayal by the one who was supposed to love him most even more painful.
He took a turn into a quiet alley, looking both sides before letting himself slide on the wall to sit on the ground. He was shaky, breathing heavily and dirty. Gods, he hated feeling like that, powerless and weak.
Pablo wiped his face with the back of his hand as best he could. Where was he, anyway? Running aimlessly, he had reached an unfamiliar part of the city. He imagined he was somewhere north.
His thoughts were interrupted by a small commotion on the street next to the alley he had pathetically ducked into. Voices were shouting things, but overlapping voices are hard to understand and he was not in the best frame of mind to deal with it, so his sorrow quickly turned into misdirected anger. He was about to stand up and tell whoever was shouting to go fuck themselves, when a speeding figure hit him head on.
The boy screamed and fell back to the ground, his fall cushioned by the backpack full of clothes he had packed in his rush to leave his family's house. He opened his eyes to see a bit of skin, a neck, perhaps? And a bunch of brown hair, covering his vision. The person above him quickly moved to stand up again.
"Get your ass up! Police's comin'!" She said. Her voice was unsteady from running for too long, but she was also practically shaking from exhilaration.
"T-the what? Who are you?! Why the fuck you have skates on?" Pablo jumped, now standing much more alert. He didn't do anything wrong, but he knew he didn't need to have actually done something to have the police up his ass.
"No time to explain!" The girl, who couldn't be much older than him, quickly skated to the end of the alley. He hesitated a few more times, looking toward the street, until he heard the more distinguishable voices shouting unkind insults and ordering the girl to turn herself in. Pablo swallowed hard and followed her.
"There's a wall here!" He stumbled, standing next to her and facing a brick wall.
"I can see that." She answered nonchalantly. Next to the two of them, there was a dumpster, which was exactly what she used as support to climb the wall. Pablo watched in awe as the girl used the front part of the four-wheel skates as a support to keep herself stable. Now on her tiptoes, she jumped and grabbed the edge of the wall.
"A little help would be good!" The girl said through gritted teeth, and that was his clue to climb the dumpster as well and push her up by the waist. When she managed to sit, one leg on each side, she stretched out her hand to help him up.
They proceeded to fall rather ungracefully on the other side. Luckily, it was a small vacant lot with tall grass, which cushioned their fall. They sit there in silence until they heard the police officers approaching, cursing some more, and finally giving up: in their opinion, the girl wasn't worth the effort of jumping over the wall.
"So..." Pablo was first to speak as they caught their breath. "Who are you?"
"Name's Yaya. And you..." She could finally take a better look at him. She made a face instantly. "You look terrible."
"Haha. Thanks. I'm Pablo, if you care."
"Well, now I do. What horrible accident happened to you? Your boyfriend broke up with you or somethin'?" That was not a nice thing to say, but Yaya couldn't resist to mess with him a bit. Pablo frowned, immediately taking note of the fact she instantly knew he couldn't possibly have a girlfriend.
Instead of snapping back, he decided to tell the truth. He was to tired to play this game Yaya was playing. "My mom kicked me out."
"Ah- uh..." She wrung her hands uncomfortably, then put one to his shoulder, now sounding much more empathetic. "That sucks. Tell me more."
"Well, as you can see, I'm not the perfect example of a son. I was supposed to go to this club tonight with my friend, even stole my older sister's ID to get in, but my mother caught me with her make up on. She wasn't supposed to be home so soon tonight but... guess I'm just really unlucky." He hugged his knees, hiding his face a little to keep the tears from coming, then continued.
"I don't even know where this club is anyway... my friend was supposed to pick me up, but I guess she's not going, 'cause my mom will likely tell her I ran away or somethin'. In other words, estoy jodido."
"Ah, hablas español" Yaya said, apparently ignoring the tragic account. Well, she wasn't actually ignoring it, just didn't know what to say. "Where you from?"
"Hm. My family's half Mexican, half Brazilian. I was born here." He was taken aback by the sudden change of subject, but didn't complain. Yaya stood up.
"Which club were you going?"
"Uh... somewhere called 'Hurricanes Club'. I have no idea how the place is" He stood up as well, watching his new weird friend smile.
"Well, honey, I happen to know."
"Wait, really?" a small spark of hope made her face light up, and Yaya's smile grew even wider.
"Come with me."
——w——
It turns out, this place was apparently owned by a gang, The House Of Hurricane, which Yaya was a part of. Pablo wasn’t all that surprised to hear this; it explained the reason for the unique clothes and the police chase, which she seemed to have a lot of experience with. They talked about it on the way, and she told him that all the gang members were drag queens, artists! After a night of misfortune, Pablo couldn’t believe his luck.
The club wasn’t that far from where they were, so it didn’t take them long to get there. Yaya skated gracefully to the side of the building, avoiding the crowded main entrance, and simply nodded to the security guard who stood at the foot of the metal stairs. Despite being on skates, she climbed up faster than Pablo.
They entered through the door at the top and found themselves in a large room, full of chairs, poufs and sofas, as well as dressing tables. It was a sort of dressing room for several people, and in fact, there was as much movement up there as below, where the loud music and party noises came from. Yaya guided him through the hustle and bustle of drag queens and makeup artists until she found who she was looking for.
A drag queen not much older than them, but definitely more imposing, was frantically giving orders. Pablo correctly guessed that this must be the Hurricanes' warlord.
"Élan!" Yaya called, trying to make her voice rise above the commotion around her.
"What- Yaya! Where the fuck have you been?" The queen immediately turned towards the two and placed her hands on the hips, a reproving look on her face. "I already told you I don't like your little escapes, girl, I won't tolerate it-"
"Élan, stop that!" She embarrassedly hissed. "I don't need a babysitter, I can manage on my own! Besides, I have something more important." She quickly added when the leader opened her mouth to say something back.
It was only then that she noticed Pablo's presence there; she raised an eyebrow. "And who are you?"
"I-I'm Pablo, ma'am, and I want to be a part of your crew because I don't have somewhere to drop dead and honestly you're my only hope I don't know what to-" He began to yap nervously, but Élan stopped him.
"Shush! Look, we're in a busy night and one of my performers called in sick a couple of minutes ago. I trust Yaya's judgement, so if you can prove you have what it takes, go ahead!" Élan snapped her fingers, catching the attention of a makeup artist. "Please, fix her up, dear." He promptly nodded and moved closer to Pablo, who jumped a bit, putting his hands up.
"Pera aí, espera, hold up! Just like that? Do you just want me to go there and, I don't know, pull up a show??"
Yaya smiled and gently pushed him back towards the makeup artist. "That's exactly what she wants, hermana."
"As I said, we're busy. Get used to the rhythm here." Élan wrote something in a piece of paper at the same time they talked, demonstrating what she just said. Suddenly, she looked back at Pablo. "What you said your name was again?"
"Pablo?"
"No, nonono. That won't do. You can't walk there and be introduced as Pablo, girl! Pick a new one."
Actually, I can. He thought as he was practically dragged away from Élan and Yaya by the makeup artist. It would be unusual, of course, but nothing necessarily stopped him... except pride. If it was time to be reborn into a new life, he needed a new name.
A few minutes later — seriously, an absurdly short amount of minutes— she was practically a different person. Her makeup highlighted her most elegant features, her blue dress contrasted with her long orange braids, which had been put there by a hairdresser (who had appeared out of nowhere), like water and fire. Looking at herself in the mirror, she felt alive.
She came back to where Élan frantically worked, now being helped by Yaya. When she looked at her, Yaya almost screamed.
"Holy shit, you look beautiful!"
"I gotta admit, you have the looks, girl. But do you have the groove?" Élan added, raising an eyebrow. "What's your name?" She repeated the question, in a tone that sounded much more like a test. This time, the answer came without hesitation.
"Hilda."
"Oh? Beautiful name, but don't you feel there's somethin' lacking there, dear?" Élan asked, tilting her head to the side curiously. Indeed, only Hilda didn't seem like a full stage name, and it wasn't.
"Hilda Huracán" Hilda Hurricane. Élan let out a loud laugh, and Hilda smiled at her.
"You got the nerves! Get your ass down on stage and surprise me, or you won't be gettin' that last name. Burn bright, Hilda Hurricane!"
————————w————————
oh, hello again! Don't mind me, I just have to drop these here-
Picrew used: https://picrew.me/ja/image_maker/1469769
(also I clearly have no idea how clubs and etc work. Normally I'd research and double check everything but I just wanted to write without much compromise so... yeah sorry KASKASK)
#sopa writes#warriors musical#warriors album#hey boppers#Don't get me started on the amount of references to Brazilian culture there is in her names alone#“Pablo” comes from a Br drag queen called Pabllo Vittar#“Hilda Hurricane” or Hilda Furacão in Portuguese comes from a telenovela#which in turn was inspired by a real person who lived in my city
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End of October Update
There's got to be a less clunky way for me to title these things but maybe I'll figure it out after a few posts.
Anyway at the top of the order I want to say that uh... the Abacelsus zine is not happening by halloween unforch.. I just started school part-time and it being part-time is still kicking my ass! So tentative release date will be on 11th November unless something else happens....
On the plus side I'm done with the cover so all that's left is the back page and cramming all 24 pages full of drawings 👍
-> As I've said at the end of my previous post I want to make more blog style posts so here's me trying to do that, more under the cut
🔐Abacelsus Zine
I'm still deciding on whether i want to print it A5 or B5 but I'm leaning towards A5, though for the digital release it doesn't really matter lol
As mentioned, I'm done with the main cover so I just need to fill this entire thing with stuff, I said 24 pages but really the total page count is 30. I'm just not counting the cover and the blurb stuff.
I'm half taking a break with this at the risk of burning myself out and half paralysed with starting it. Plus I've kind of been more into Axl & I-no hilariously but I'll always love A.B.A. I think the lack of any real info really lends her well to interpretation which is always fun.
I've never really been one to engage in fandom so I'm probably going to be doing my own thing. That being said if anyone has any suggestions feel free to drop them in my strawpage or ask box :)
🥤 Strawpage & General Socials
The bugs make my pages so decorative, I gotta draw more bugstyle guys.
Speaking of strawpage, I made one of those! It was really fun, I have a short OC info tab with descriptions of some of my main guys. I'd love for you to check it out.
This kind of acts as my ask box for twitter since there's not one there and apparently it's basically my main social media site these days so I'm just mirroring my experience here over there too.
Hilarious timing considering that it's basically collapsing on itself once again, I'll probably still be on that damn site until it implodes but I also have a Bluesky account for those that care about it.
The sky follower bridge extension is really useful for bulk following people from twitter to bsky
I'd love to post there more but there's not a queue function and that's very important to me as someone who is not American and lazy to remember optimal timings.
Did you see? I also have a new pinned for this blog! Wanted to make a new one for a while now, always thought the old one was so freaking long. All the old info is still on my about and faq page though I don't know who actually looks at those.. a relic from years past..
☹ School
Sigh, like I mentioned earlier I'm doing school again! At my big age, but I'm having fun so far! It's part-time but it's still kicking my fucking ass! It's the main reason why I'm a little disoriented this month honestly.
Do you like it? I spent an entire Sunday making my class miro board look niceys and then proceeded to get nauseous from cybersickness afterwards LOL
I'm doing a UI/UX course and I have to say the funnest part about it is making personas, it's like making OCs. Don't particularly like writing though.. but also that's a lie considering the numerous amount of paragraphs in this blog post alone haha
🎁 Merch
I've also gotten confirmation that I'll be boothing again next year in Febuary! So I gotta start locking into making more stickers and general merch. I say this a lot but I do need to look into opening an online store because I just have tonnes of stickers and stuff lying around waiting till the next time I do a convention which is kind of a shame.
Oh, but I will say that if you are from Singapore and would like anything from my previous convention catalogue feel free to shoot me a DM on instagram and I can mail it to you locally, shipping's $2 SGD.
➰Closing Thoughts
All in all, been kind of busy this month with school and various loose threads from September but overall I think I'm doing better! I've also been cooking lately and truthfully that's my biggest achievement this month haha, been also getting really into canned fish. Yummy!
Oh and a last thing is that I've been itching to animate again so I'll end this post with a WIP of a gif I did last night/morning. I almost always never finish my animations but here's hoping this one actually makes it to the colouring stage haha
No prizes to anyone who can guess who these two because of course.
Thank you for reading! I know I can't expect everything to be done in a single month but I just wish I could do everything without getting tired or cybersick! If you'd like to support me, here's my ko-fi page and my itchi.io & gumroad as well.
If you have any questions or just generally want to talk to me, my DMs and askbox is always open! Any professional enquires can be sent towards my email as well: eliotlime@gmail.com
XOXO, Stay weird!
-Eliot :)
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heyhey! You said you had a request but couldn’t see it and in case it was mine here i am once again humbling asking you to feed my delusions. I am the same person who asked for the one with the fake dating trope and the one where reader spawns into the lobby :))
But i am here now going for a more angsty route! >:) Granted, this is more of an OC x Alastor but im describing it more generic for the populace BUT HERE GOES
right before “Cover me” reader kept silently glancing over at Alastor which was on the dance floor, subconsciously making him approach her. He goes of course they have a (Important for later) conversation like “I havent seen you around here. Are you new around town?” “Just moved in actually~” “Well, Id love to give you a tour someday, the names Alastor” and he kisses her hand “Ah a charmer, ill have to be careful around you” (OR A MORE ELEGANT CONVERSATION THEN THAT I SUCK AT DIALOGUE) then theres the knife and gun scene and the team up
And then they get together after about a year or two and I dont wanna say theyre legally married but eventually use wife and husband terms because its more fancy and gives them more respect in eyes of others but they have been together for around 5 years at this point.
but then the events of 1925 happen where readers twin brother dies because some bastards set fire to his house and Reader has an argument with Alastor before eventually going alone to avenge her brother (theyre like “theres too many, youll die” “so be it!”)
Reader kills them all (duh) but because it was January and extremely cold she eventually gets hypothermia and during the delusions it gives she stumbles and gets impaled on an abandoned rusty fence spike and dies :3
Alastor find her and gives her a proper burial and 8 years later in 1933 while visiting readers grave he gets shot canonically
But these 8 years gave reader enoigh time in hell to establish her own dominance and due to the life she lived and the death of hypothermia- she gets turned into a sort of blizzard demon. Around 180 cm with black limbs, white fluffy hair and fluffy ears and a white tail as a sinner form and for the demon form im thinking of the faceless Room Guardians by Anyaboz on Instagram (incredible artist btw) with ice powers like summoning weapons and ice spikes and ice touches and moving freely (like Kindred’s wolf in League) in her blizzard. Taking over half the pentagram like this-
Until 1933 when Alastor pops up in hell, does his demon business and eventually wants to check out these frozen parts and goes into a bar very similar to the one they met and sees reader at the table and then THEY HAVE THE EXACT SAME CONVERSATION THEY HAD WHEN THEY FIRST MET (maybe with the knife and gun scene too hehe) and theyre both like “i forgive you” or smth idk maybe they just have a silent agreement- either way.
After they met the blizzard stops and no one knows why or who did it :>, readers identity as the blizzard demon remaining a secret
BTW I LOVE YOU FOR MAKING MY DREAMS COME TRUE- if you want more i have a ton of ideas because brain rot- (also lil side note i kind of imagine reader as albino because it would fit my ocs lore a bit more- but keeping it basic would fit everyones ideas of their own reader so! do what you please you already made my day better by reading my ideas come to life :3))
yes!! i did see yours and it is currently in third place for requests i need to fill so ill probably get it done by this weekend, early next week at the latest. it’s just taking me a bit because i’m in midterms rn and also i want to make sure i get in all the details :) i think it might’ve been a request for alastor’s mom reader x lucifer?? i recall getting one about that but can’t seem to find it anywhere. long story short,, your request is in progress and i will post it as soon as i have the time to finish it up :)
UPDATE: This piece has officially been posted as of Friday February 23rd, 2024.
Frostbite (Alastor x Reader)
#hazbin hotel#alastor#hazbin alastor#alastor the radio demon#fic writer#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#request things#request one shot#asks#answered asks
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Save a Horse (D.R.W/S.F.K)
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Summary: Danny convinces Sam to go to a new line dancing bar in town. A gay bar. On a steal night. When they’re both secretly head over heels in love with each other. What could go wrong?
Pairings: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka
Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, smut (minors DNI), some angst
Word Count: 11.3 k
Warnings: they’re both oblivious idiots so it takes them a fat minute to confess their feelings, major douche oc, non-consensual touching (not graphic), smut, oral sex, anal sex (fingering and penetration), Sam’s a bottom what’s new
A/N: I would like to thank @hearts-hunger for posting a random short blurb about Danny dragging Sam along to a line dancing bar, that was what first put the idea in my head that led to… all this. Thank you for reading!
————————————————————————
“Will you please just come with me tonight, Sam? You have nothing better to do anyways!” Danny pleads with the other man.
"For the last time, Daniel,” Sam replied, stressing his name as he closes the empty cabinet usually filled with alcohol and turns towards him, “You know me, I don’t line dance. I don’t even listen to country music.”
“It’s easy, just let me lead? Listen I really want to check this new place out, Austin told me about it last week, and I can’t go alone. He said tonight is bring your own partner night and to be honest, I’m a little embarrassed to ask anyone else.” He says quietly, looking down at the countertop as he mindlessly traces shapes onto the surface of it with his finger. “I’ve never been, but Austin promised it’s not like, too ‘hick’ of a bar.”
Sam sighs, bracing himself on the same counter with both hands as he leans towards Danny. “Fine. BUT, before you go looking too excited its only because; one, I’m out of all my good alcohol, two, you keep flashing those big doe eyes at me and you know I always give in when you look all sad like that, and three, I’m taking Austin’s word that it’s not ‘too hick’.” Danny beams at the other man, mood already lifting as Sam continues, “What’s this place called anyways? Have I ever heard of it?”
“I doubt you have, Austin told me it’s downtown and pretty underground, even for a new place.” He scratches the back of his head, focusing once again on the counter in front of him as he mumbles the rest of his answer. “He said it’s called uh… Bradley’s Honky Tonk.”
Sam raises his eyebrows, “I’m sorry you might have to speak up because, to me, it sounded like you just said this bar wasn’t ‘too hick’ and right after, told me that it was called fucking Bradley’s Honky Tonk.”
Danny briskly makes his way towards the front door as Sam trails behind him, speaking fast enough to prevent Sam from interrupting him, but not so fast he would have to stop and repeat himself. “You already agreed to go, I promise it’ll be fun, I’ll pick you up at 8, kay byeee.” He blurts out, shutting the door in Sams’ face.
“Thanks Daniel, alright see you then Daniel.” Sam grumbles out, voice laced with annoyance at his friends speedy departure. He catches his reflection in the mirror by his door, noticing his old band tee and unbrushed hair for the first time that day. “Oh god. What the fuck do I even wear?”
————————————————————————
Pulling into Sam’s driveway at 8:26 pm, only 26 minutes late (which Danny was considering record speed), he sat nervously in the driver’s seat waiting on his friend. He fidgets with a few strands of hair, his racing mind fueled by anxiety suddenly deciding that it must look horrible down, despite the time he spent in front of his mirror at home fixing almost every single curl until it sat just perfect. Flipping the cover up on the mirror of his sun visor he begins pulling his hair into a loose ponytail, leaving the bottom half out as he feared the old hair tie he kept in his car for emergencies wouldn’t be strong enough to hold all of it. Making eye contact with himself in the small mirror, he lets out a shaky breath. “Relax Danny, this is fine, it’s fine. Are you going line dancing with your best friend who you’ve stupidly been in love with since 8th grade? Yeah, but it’s fine. Completely platonic…right?”
He slams the visor up, groaning as his head falls back in frustration, hitting the head rest. “Yeah, I am so fucked.” he whispers before the passenger door swings open and Sam all but throws himself into the seat.
“Well, well, well,” Sam says in an exaggerated Southern accent, “Lookin’ mighty fine there Daniel.” He eyes the other man, attention going from the black crystal necklace Danny rarely took off, to his Howlin’ Wolf muscle tee, down his long legs clad in loose fit dark blue jeans, and finally catching a glimpse of his black lace-up combat boots. Sam secretly adored when Danny wore them around him, as the soles made him an inch or two taller than he already was, causing Sam to have to look up ever so slightly at Danny when in close proximity. “Surprised to see you’re not in cowboy boots. Your pair too classy for Bradley’s Honky Tonk?”
Danny rolls his eyes, putting his car into reverse and backing out of Sam’s driveway. He almost misses Sam’s sharp inhale as he places his hand on the shoulder of the passenger seat, allowing him to turn enough to look out the back window; instead he ignores it, thinking he must have imagined something out of hope.
“Shut the fuck up Sam.” Danny replies with no real malice or annoyance behind his words. “And I was thinking about wearing them but changed my mind, didn’t like how they looked with these jeans.” He glances over at Sam as he puts his car into drive, taking in the tiger’s eye pendant around his throat, his maroon button up with only the bottom two buttons done, down to his faded blue jeans and brown Chelsea boots, his eyes finally coming back up to settle on Sam’s freshly washed hair, now held back in a loose French braid. “You can’t say shit about my outfit, Sammy. Button that shirt a little more and swap those Chelsea boots for a worn pair of cowboy boots and you’ll fit right in with half the crowd.”
Sam dramatically gasps, slapping his hand over his heart and putting on his best act at being offended by the other man’s jest. “How could you say that to me Daniel? Comparing me to true Tennessee country boys; and I thought we were friends.” He gives Danny one last sad look before he drops the bit, and lets a full grin spread across his face.
Danny gives him an amused chuckle, keeping his eyes on the road as he lightheartedly grumbles, “God you’re such a drama queen.” under his breath.
“True, but that’s why you love me.”
Danny feels his face heat, sure that his cheeks are tinted pink from Sam’s passing comment. Lucky for him, Sam doesn’t notice as his attention is caught by something sitting on the back seat.
“No. Fucking. Way.” Sam says, confusing Danny momentarily before he reaches behind the driver’s seat and pulls out the worn black leather cowboy hat Danny had decided to grab at the last minute. With a shit-eating grin plastered on his face he settles the hat on his own head, causing Danny to choke on his own spit after looking over. His face turns an even fiercer shade of pink as he not only coughs for air, but also tries to keep the fluttering of his heart at bay.
“You brought a fucking cowboy hat? Yeah, ok and I’m the one that could ‘fit right in’.” Sam teases, too amused to question the state of his best friend.
After regaining the ability to fully breathe, Danny reaches over, snatching the hat off his head and tossing it behind him and out of Sam’s reach. “Hey, what the fuck-“ Sam starts.
He’s cut off by Danny, still blushing vividly and trying to keep his voice even. “Uh there’s kind of this ‘rule’ that you should know about. With cowboy hats. So you don’t accidently give someone the wrong vibe tonight.” He glances nervously over at Sam, who’s staring at him with mild confusion painted across his face. “They say, ‘wear the hat, ride the cowboy’. Uh, basically it means if someone puts their cowboy hat on you, or you take someone else’s hat, it means that they, and/or you, want to… fuck.”
“Oh.” Sam replies, staring out the windshield. Oh. A blush creeps across his cheeks and he clears his throat, hoping to ease the tension that had settled between them. “Well uhm, thanks for the heads up.”
“Yep, mhm, yeah uh no problem.” Danny mumbles out. Well that was fucking smooth. God you’re such an idiot, he probably knows and just never wanted to say anything. He’s pulled from his thoughts as they arrive at the bar, its name illuminated in neon rainbow lights. Struggling to find a parking spot, he drives a block down, eventually finding an empty space in the lot of a random mom and pop stop style restaurant already closed for the night. “Busier than I thought it would be.” Danny comments half to himself as the men get out of the car.
“Hey Danny boy,” Sam calls over the hood of the car, “Don’t forget that cowboy hat, partner.”
Danny rolls his eyes, smiling despite himself. “Fuck off Sam.” he replies, before opening the back door of his car and grabbing the hat off the floor where it had fallen. He places the hat on his head, earning a teasing wolf whistle from Sam, before he locks his doors and makes his way towards his friend.
The pair start towards the bar, passing small groups of people and couples already leaving the bar, stepping out for a smoke break, or heading inside like Sam and Danny were. They pass a group of women all standing around in a semi-circle laughing and talking while puffing on various cigarettes and vape pens. In their platform heels, they were all taller than both boys, with flashy and over the top outfits, hair, and makeup.
A woman near the center of the group with blond hair piled impossibly tall on her head eyes Danny. Her long nails are painted blood red, the end of a cigarette between her fingers, burning dangerously close to the lacquer. She wore a cropped leather jacket in a similar shade almost fully zipped up, and tight leather shorts with fishnet stockings. Her cowgirl boots gave her maybe an inch of height, yet she still towered over Sam and Danny as they passed.
“Love the hat, sweetie.” She says in Danny’s direction, winking at the end of her sentence, surprising both boys with a voice deeper than either expected.
“Oh uhm, thank you ma’am.” Danny replies nervously, continuing along the path with Sam by his side.
Once out of the earshot of the group, Sam voices what both men were thinking. “So that was a drag queen, yeah?”
“Yeah, think they all were.” answers Danny, nerves creeping into him.
Sure, Austin was gay, but he didn’t want to assume that it was a gay bar just because he was. And he would have told Danny it was a gay bar… right? Whatever, he thought, either way it was too late to back down now.
The pair arrive at the door and, after showing one of the bouncers stationed at the entrance their ID’s, enter the building. Their senses are immediately bombarded, from the rainbow strobe lights, to the intense smell of sweat, to the blaring music. Danny manages to recognize the song, despite the cacophony of noise surrounding him.
“But I’m gonna be where the lights are shinin’ on me
Like a rhinestone cowboy
Ridin’ out on a horse in a star-spangled rodeo.”
Ok, definitely more of a queer country song but that doesn’t mean anything. Right?
Unlike Danny, Sam does not recognize the song or pay any mind to it, instead taking in the room before him. It’s interesting, Sam thinks to himself, most of the people dancing together are same sex couples. Huh, wouldn’t expect to see that in a Tennessee line dancing bar.
Danny clears his throat, grabbing the other boys attention as he leans in to talk over the music; “Want to go get a drink first?”
“Do you even have to ask?” he replies, already making his way towards the bar.
They find it packed, and Danny just manages to squeeze in as a woman with short, buzzed hair and dark purple lipstick walks away drink in hand, leaving a spot open. Sam presses himself against Danny’s back, leaning in to talk right into Danny’s ear. He doesn’t hear the hitch in Danny’s breath as their bodies make contact, music and conversation drowning it out as he begins to speak. “Hey, I think I just saw a table for two open up, I’ll go save us some seats. Order me something? I don’t care what, surprise me.”
Danny half turns to respond, but Sam is already halfway across the room, making a beeline for the only empty table left in the venue. He smiles at his friend’s dedication, turning again towards the wall of alcohol behind the counter and catches the eye of one of the bartenders as she makes her way towards him.
“What can I get you tonight, hun?” she questions, drying her hands on a bar rag as she waits for his answer.
“Uh Rum and Coke for me, please.” He starts.
She grabs a nearby glass, reaching for a bottle behind her. “And for your boyfriend?”
Danny’s heart skips a beat. “What?”
She looks at him expectantly. “That man that just walked away from you, maroon shirt, long hair in a braid. You ordering for him?”
She thinks Sam and I are a couple. Danny’s cheeks flush as he tries to organize his thoughts enough to order something for Sam. “Oh uh, yeah. He’ll have a Dirty Shirley.”
“You got it.” She sets Danny’s drink down in front of him, replacing the bottles she had used and grabbing new ones from the heavily stocked shelf behind her.
“Oh, and can you put 4 Maraschino Cherries in instead of just one or two?”
She smiles at him, “Of course, hun. Your man got a sweet tooth?”
He looks down at his drink, indulging himself in the idea of Sam being his man for a few seconds. “Yeah, something like that.”
He glances in Sam’s direction as she makes his drink, only to find Sam already staring directly at him. He quickly looks away when he makes eye contact with Danny, seeming to be extremely intrigued by the lights near the DJ’s table all of a sudden.
Why was he staring at me? Maybe I’m taking too long. Did he blush? No, don’t be stupid Danny, it’s just the lighting.
The bartender pulls Danny’s attention away from the man across the room still avoiding his gaze by setting Sam’s drink down in front of him. “Here ya are, hun.”
Danny thanks her, pays for the drinks, and makes his way through the various throngs of people gathered here and there, both drinks in hand. He approaches the table, setting down their glasses as Sam looks at his, and finally looks at Danny again, a wide smile on his face.
“A Dirty Shirley with 4 Maraschino Cherries, how’d you know?”
Danny returns his smile and shrugs, “It’s your favorite. And the last time Jake came back with our drinks and yours only had 2 cherries instead of 4 like you asked, you got all pouty for like 30 minutes, how could I forget?”
Sam’s smile softens as he takes in Danny’s features, watching the path of his hand bring his glass to his mouth to take a sip. His eyes linger on Danny’s lips for longer than he cares to admit, watching his tongue flit out to lick them. He tears his gaze away, looking upwards to find Danny already softly looking at him. Sam’s cheeks redden as he looks down at his own drink, praying that Danny didn’t notice the bright blush on his face in this light, or the fact that he was not-so-platonically staring at his lips.
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick, hopefully the line isn’t too long.” Danny starts. “Watch my drink for me, will you?”
Sam looks up at his friend again and attempts to ignore what had just happened by nonchalantly popping one of the cherries into his mouth. “You got it.”
With that Danny walks away from the table, following the signs pointing towards the bathroom until he disappears out of sight. Sam groans, leaning forward until his forehead hits the cool resin of the table.
I need to not be sober to make it through the rest of this night, jesus christ. He sits up again, grabbing his glass and bypassing the thin straw intended for sipping, instead taking a large gulp of his drink, letting the familiar refreshing taste calm his nerves momentarily.
He places the glass back on the table, too focused on the action and his nerves still making his stomach twist to notice the, quite sparkly, man approaching him.
“Howdy there, sugar. Such a damn shame to see such a sad look on such a pretty man’s face.” He smiles at Sam, before continuing. “Been watchin’ you since you walked in here. What happened? Your boyfriend leave you all on your lonesome?”
Sam looks the man up and down, from the white cowboy hat on top of his head, to the embroidered and bedazzled black button up shirt, down to his slim black bootcut jeans, adorned with the largest and flashiest belt buckle Sam had ever seen, and finally landing on the expensive looking black cowboy boots on his feet, complete with silver heel and toe fittings.
He sits in the seat across from Sam, the one he had saved for Danny. Sam eyes the man, reaching over and sliding Danny’s glass away from the stranger, towards his now half-empty drink. He looks the man straight in the eye, still not returning his smile. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Well it looks like he ain’t tryin hard to be, leavin you all alone and all.”
Sam rolls his eyes, looking down at his drink in his hand, absentmindedly swirling the contents around. “It’s not like that, he’s just a friend. And I’m sorry I don’t mean to sound rude but, can I help you?”
The man barks out a laugh. “Hell that was just about the funniest damn thing I’ve heard all day. ‘He’s just a friend’. You’re tellin’ me he brought you to a gay line dancin’ bar, on a steal night, and he ain’t tryin’ to get any further than ‘just friends’. I’m sorry but that is bull fucking shit, sugar.”
Sam zones the man’s voice out for a second, too lost in thought.
Oh my god. This is a gay bar. That explains… so much. Wait did… did Danny know this was a gay bar? No, he would have told me if he knew.
“Anyways, darlin’, I was actually hoping you could help me. My name’s Dawson. Dallas Dawson.”
Sam gives Dallas a blank stare, mind still caught up with all the new information he had provided to Sam about the bar, his mind unintentionally wandering to Danny’s intentions.
Where the fuck is Danny?
“This is the part where you tell me your name, doll.” Dallas laughs, it feels cruel to Sam, as if it’s at his expense. “Sure as hell is a good thing you’re pretty.”
There it is. God this guy is an asshole.
“Samuel. My name is Samuel.” He responds, not caring if he sounded cold to Dallas.
“Well then Sammy boy, pleased to make your acquaintance. This your first time at a line dancin’ joint?”
Danny’s the only one that can call me Sammy.
He clears his throat, offering a brief, “Yep.”, and nothing else.
“Well then, looks like we can help each other, sugar. Since your friend ain’t here, and ‘don’t got any intentions with you’, how’s about I buy you a cold Budweiser and we get to know each other better. Maybe get a dance or two in, I can show you the ropes.” He punctuates his last sentence with a wink, smugly smiling at Sam as if he just used the world’s best pick up line.
God I fucking hate Budweiser.
“Actually, we just got drinks, although I’m sure he appreciates the offer.” Relief floods Sam as he sees Danny approach their table. “And, he agreed to be designated driver tonight so probably shouldn’t have more than what he’s already got.”
Dallas looks between Sam and Danny, scoffing as he sizes Daniel up. “Well looky here folks, looks like Sammy boys keeper came back for him.”
“Not his keeper, just an old friend. Which, speaking of, I sure would love for you to stay and chat but,” the sarcasm in his voice is almost palpable, and Sam begins to worry that Dallas might try to start something with Danny based off the way his jaw is clenched as he stares the other man down. “Sam and I haven’t seen each other in a while, have a lot of catching up to do.” Danny flashes Dallas a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, and steps to the side, signaling for Dallas to get out of his chair.
Dallas looks over at Sam, offering a genuine smile. “Well darlin’, I know when I’m not wanted.” He stands up, winking at Sam before continuing. “Hope to see you around, Sammy.” He takes one final look at Danny before walking off into the crowd.
Sam lets out a sigh of relief and slides Danny’s drink back across the table towards him as he takes the seat previously occupied by Dallas.
“Are you ok, Sammy?” Daniel asks, genuine concern in his voice and painted across his features. He resists the urge to reach out and take Sam’s hand in his own; to gently rub his knuckles with his thumb to comfort him.
He looks at Danny, forcing a smile onto his face. “Yeah, that guy was such a douche, am I right?” He laughs lightly, trying to clear his mind and the air between them. “You are surprisingly good at lying, Daniel Wagner. Care to explain that?” He cocks his eyebrow at the other man, awaiting his response.
Danny shrugs, “Anything to get that asshole away from you.”
Sam offers a small smile to him, “Thank you, I appreciate it. So uh, subject change but, this is a gay bar.”
“Yeah, kinda have pieced that together over the evening. I promise, I didn’t know. Austin just told me this was a new line dancing bar, I swear he never mentioned anything about it being a gay bar.” Danny blurts out, worried that Sam might think he’s trying to make unwanted advances.
“Don’t worry, I believe you.” He smiles at Danny, a genuine smile, which helps ease the anxiety building in the other man. “Also, Dallas the Douchebag Dawson said something about this being a steal night? Do you know what that means?”
Danny’s face drops as suddenly, all the pieces click together.
Oh, I am going to kill Austin. He is pretty much the only person that knows about my feelings for Sam, and now that I think about it, he was the one to suggest I ask Sam to come with me tonight. Slick bastard.
“Uh, yeah I do actually. Sometimes bars will hold ‘steal nights’, where the whole point of it is to steal someone else’s partner mid dance. There’s a rule where you’re not supposed to steal someone’s partner if they’re new to it, but if you’d like to leave I completely understand.” Danny avoids looking at Sam by taking a long swig of his slightly watered-down drink.
“I know how much you wanted to come tonight, Danny. I’m fine staying.” Sam says as softly as he can while still being able to be heard over the noise surrounding them.
Danny looks at Sam surprised, furrowing his eyebrows. “Are you sure? I know this wasn’t your scene anyways and after that asshat and the whole misunderstanding about the bar, I don’t want to make you stay if you don’t want to.”
“Yes Daniel, I’m sure.” he reassures. “Besides, you need to show me how to line dance. You wouldn’t make me come all the way out here just to go home without a dance, would you?”
Danny’s face lights up, “Really?” he questions eagerly.
“No, I was just fucking with you for shits and giggles.” Sam deadpans before letting a smile grace his features once more. “Yes, really. After we finish our drinks, I expect you to swoop me off my feet on that dance floor.”
Danny laughs, full and bright, “Alright then, sounds like a deal then, Sammy.” His gaze lingers on his best friend for a few moments longer, before he forces himself to look out at the sea of people occupying the dance space as they sip their drinks in comfortable silence. Sam is the first one to break it when a song he recognizes starts playing.
“Holy shit Danny, I actually know this one.” he says, grinning at his friend.
“Well then, sounds like the perfect song to start teaching you the basics of line dancing. That is, if you’re finished with your drink.”
Sam dramatically stands, swooping his hands out in front of him in a grand gesture and bowing slightly. “Lead the way, Daniel.”
Danny laughs, hopping off his chair and grabbing Sam’s wrist as he passes him, pulling him along behind him as they make their way to the dance floor. He finds a corner of the room that isn’t too populated, hoping that the pair would have a little extra wiggle room for Sam to get the hang of it. Still holding onto Sam’s wrist, he pulls him closer, leaning down slightly to make sure Sam can hear him over the music, now louder on the dance floor.
“Ok so all I can say is, go with the flow, twirls and spins are like half of it, let me lead, and make sure you have at least one hand on me at all times. That’s like the main contact point of line dancing.” Danny looks at Sam, obvious nerves and slight panic written on his face. He brings the hand not holding his wrist up to his opposite bicep and gives him a comforting squeeze, waiting until Sam brings his gaze up to Danny’s to continue. “Hey, it’ll be fine, I promise. Feel the music, let me lead.” He smiles reassuringly down at him, feeling warmth rise in his chest when Sam does the same.
“Yeah, ok. Let you lead. Alright. I got this. I’m ready.” Sam’s heart flutters in his chest when Danny brings his hands down to hold Sam’s before he’s suddenly pushed away from him, both men holding the other at arm’s length. Danny pulls him right back in almost immediately, letting go of one of his hands and placing it on Sam’s hip to guide him into a spin. He slightly stumbles at the end and falls into Danny, not expecting the sudden turn and having almost no traction in his boots. His unoccupied right hand flies up to Danny’s pec, as Danny’s left hand finds a place on Sam’s lower back, steadying him against his front.
Danny stares down at him, their faces mere inches away from each other, and is sure his heart is racing. He prays to every god who will listen in that moment that Sam can’t feel it from where his hand rests on his chest. He is… so beautiful.
Holy shit, why is his heart beating so fast? He’s probably just worried I’ll fall or make a fool out of him. With this thought Sam immediately straightens, slightly pulling away from the other man.
“Sorry, I should have given you a warning.” Danny apologizes. Sam doesn’t miss the way his hand leaves his lower back, moving to hover near Sam’s free hand before he asks, “You alright to continue?”
With the comfort of Danny checking in with him, Sam finds a small amount of confidence and makes the first move, slotting his hand into Danny’s and taking a step towards him again. “Yeah, thanks. When I said I expected you to sweep me off my feet, I didn’t mean literally.”
Danny laughs lightly, “Yeah, again my bad. I’ll give you a warning next time.” He smiles and repeats his previous moves, pausing before spinning Sam again to offer a heads up to the other man. This time Sam doesn’t slip, and his hand perfectly lands right back into Danny’s at the end of his turn. “Hey that was great! You’re a natural, Sammy.”
Sam laughs, looking up at his best friend, “I think you’re giving me too much credit but, I’ll take it. Thanks.” He starts to feel the flow of the music as he moves with Danny who spins him again, this time around his back as he turns slightly to meet Sam. Before Sam realizes what’s happening, he’s spun again, landing with his back pressing flush against Danny’s front at the end. Danny’s left arm is holding Sam’s right hand across his body, his right-hand abandoning Sam’s to instead rest on his hip.
“So I remember when we were driving, driving in your car
Speed so fast, I felt like I was drunk.
City lights lay out before us
And your arm felt nice wrapped around my shoulder.”
Too caught up in the moment, Sam turns in Danny’s arms and without thinking, brings his arms up to rest on his shoulders, crossing his wrists behind Danny’s head as he tries not to knock his hat off.
He looks incredible in this light. I mean, he looks incredible in any light but…
“And I, I, had a feeling that I belonged
I, I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone.”
The men gaze at each other as the song ends, too lost in the moment to realize they had stopped dancing. The song changing to something faster paced pulls them out of their trance, and Danny is the first to pull away, stepping back slightly and moving Sam’s arms so that he’s lightly holding his wrists at a “safe” distance.
Fuck. He knows how I feel about him. I made him uncomfortable, and he knows. He’s going to hate me. He must hate me.
Sam feels the sting of tears at this thought, considering excusing himself to the bathroom to spare himself the embarrassment of crying in front of Danny.
“You doing ok, Sammy? Want to keep dancing?” Danny asks, sensing the shift in his best friend.
Ok, maybe… maybe he doesn’t hate me? Sam clears his throat, keeping his tears at bay by reasoning with himself that if Danny recognized Sam’s feelings for him and hated him for it or felt uncomfortable, he wouldn’t ask him to keep dancing. “Yeah… yeah I want to keep dancing.”
Danny looks at him expectantly, as if waiting for elaboration. “And you’re ok, right?”
Moving his hands into Danny’s, he tries for a smile, “Yeah, and I’m ok.” Hoping to move past the subject, Sam begins swaying himself and Danny along to the music as he builds up his courage, until he finally finds the right moment and spins Danny behind him, just as the other boy had done to him moments prior. Going with the flow like Danny had said, he spins him twice with one hand after he makes his initial turn around Sam, catching Danny off guard but not enough to knock him off his feet like he had for Sam.
“Nothing but you can make me feel alive
Set my heart on fire, turn this silver sky
Into a California blue, fireworks in July.”
Danny beams at him, continuing their various spins and steps as he praises the other man. “That was amazing, Sammy! You went with the flow perfectly, just like I said!”
Sam grins, “Yeah well, I guess I had an amazing teacher. That or I’m just a natural. Born to line dance I think.” Danny snorts at this, much to Sam’s delight.
I’ll never stop making stupid jokes if it means I might make him laugh.
“Yeah, something like that.” He laughs, shaking his head in amusement at Sam’s joke.
He could say the least funny joke in the world, and I think I’d still laugh.
They dance through the rest of the song and when it switches to what Danny recognizes as Turn on the Radio, they dance through that too; perfecting their flow and rhythm, although still occasionally bursting into fits of laughter after bumping into each other while trying to do the same move to the other multiple times. After the song ends the pair pauses, leaning against the wall as they take a moment to catch their breath.
“Y’know, I’m having a lot more fun than I thought I would.” Sam admits, taking shallow breaths as he fans himself. "Thank you for asking me to come tonight."
Danny looks down at his shoes to hide his blush, taking a brief moment to collect himself before looking over to the boy at his side, “Of course, thank you for coming. I’m glad you’re having fun.”
“She’s poppin’ right out of the South Georgia water
Thought, ‘Oh, good Lord, she had them long tanned legs’
Couldn’t help myself so I walked up and said...”
Sam laughs, the one that made his sound like he was high and giggly, “Hey just like you in the summer, Danny. ‘Long tanned legs’.”
Despite his racing heart and mind, Danny manages to chuckle out, “You lookin’ at my legs, Kiszka?”
“Maybe.” Sam looks over at the other boy, his expression sincere. “Care to dance again? I’ve taken a long enough break.”
What the fuck? Was he… flirting? Danny decides to move on past the remark, just as Sam had. “Uh, yeah. Although I think our spots been taken.” he comments, noticing that “their” corner had been filled by another pair of men passionately dancing.
“That’s fine, we can move further out onto the floor.” he responds, already grabbing Danny’s hand and pulling him towards the edge of the dance floor. They come to a temporary stop and once again, he takes the lead and resumes their dance, spinning himself under Danny’s arm.
Danny continues the conversation as they move together, trying to keep Sam as close as possible in order to be heard over the music.
“You sure you’re alright out here? We aren’t as, I don’t know, hidden.” Realizing what his statement could have implied, he rushes his words out to clarify. “Not that I want us to be hidden or anything! Just because you’re still new, I want you to feel comfortable.”
Sam smiles at him, feeling his heart soar at the fact that Danny was continuously making sure Sam felt safe and comfortable in this new situation and environment. “Yeah, I think I’ve gotten the hang of it enough to not be so worried out here. I appreciate you making sure though.”
They dance until the song ends, only a moments pause before the next song comes blaring over the speakers.
“Last night, I got served a little bit too much of that poison baby.
Last night, I did things I’m not proud of and I got a little crazy.
Last night, I met a guy on the dance floor,
And I let him call me ‘baby’.”
Danny spins Sam behind him as he had done many times that night, and suddenly, he doesn’t feel Sam’s hand in his own anymore. Thinking he must have accidentally let go he turns, expecting to see Sam close behind him. Instead, he sees his friend being swept away by a man in an infuriatingly familiar white cowboy hat. The pair are swallowed by the movement of couples on the dance floor as Danny is pushed to the edge of the room, watching helplessly as the white hat disappears into the crowd.
“Fancy runnin’ into you again, sugar. Hope I wasn’t interruptin’ anythin’ important there.”
Fucking. Dallas.
He grins at Sam, who’s already trying to loosen the other man’s grip on him. “You just looked too good bein’ spun around like that, doll. I saw my opportunity and just had to steal you, get a taste of you for myself.” He winks at Sam, grip surprisingly firm on his hands.
“Actually, you kind of fucking did interrupt us.” Sam shoots back, his tone thick with anger. “Let go of me.” He continues to struggle against his grip, now taking a step back to distance himself from Dallas. He takes a step forward towards Sam, grip unfaltering as he manages to “dance” with Sam without letting go of either hand.
“Now don’t be rude and go off leavin’ me mid dance, darlin’. You gotta give me till at least the end of the song. Besides, why would you want to go back to pretty boy over there. He ain’t gonna give you what you want.” He leans in, grinning suggestively at Sam with a fire in his eyes that almost frightens him. “I can, sugar. I can give you everything you want and more.”
Sam continues his attempts at escaping Dallas, a look of disgust painted across his features. “Fuck all of the way off, asshole.”
Offense is painted clearly across Dallas’ face as he continues, “Woah woah woah, sugar. No need to get so hostile. Now I may not wear shorts in the summer, and may not be as tall as your pretty boy but I still got mighty fine legs that you are free to ogle all you want, darlin’. Won’t even have to work too hard to see them without these jeans on.”
Sam’s confusion only lasts for a second, before he remembers the brief flirty comment he had given Danny before they resumed their dance. “Wait a fucking minute, were you listening to our conversation?? What the actual fuck, what’s wrong with you?”
“I told you earlier that I had my eye on you since you came through that door, doll. Been trying to get close enough to shoot my shot without pretty boy noticin’.” He shrugs innocently, “Couldn’t help but overhear a thing or two.”
The song changes, but Sam is too lost in his fury at what Dallas had so casually confessed to him to tell him that his dance was over. “What kind of a fucking creep-“ he trails off as he spots Danny across the room, making brief eye contact and praying that Danny can feel his silent cry for help before Dallas turns them and Danny is lost from his sight.
Dallas tightens his grip, anger flashing across his features momentarily. “I told you not to get hostile, darlin’.”
“And I can easily understand how you could easily take my man.
But you don’t know what he means to me, Jolene.
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
I’m begging of you, please don’t take my man.
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
Please don’t take him just because you can.”
He gasps slightly at the motion, pain shooting through his fingers.
I don’t know what the fuck he’s going to try if Danny doesn’t get here soon. Danny. Where the fuck is Danny?
Voice tinted with fear, he manages to form a sentence despite his racing thoughts. “Let go. You’re… you’re hurting me.”
“What are you gonna do, huh? Run back to your pretty boy? Hell, he don’t even want you.” He laughs cruelly. Dallas feels a firm grip on his shoulder before he hears him.
“He said. Let. Go. You’re hurting him.” With rage dripping from his words, Danny pulls Dallas away from Sam. In his surprise, he loosens his grip enough for Sam to make his escape, immediately finding a home in Danny’s arms as he swoops in to “steal” Sam back. He gently takes Sam’s hands in his own as he maneuvers the pair away from Dallas without drawing too much attention to the situation unfolding.
“If you bring your Buckle Bunny ass near us again, we’re going to have more of a fucking problem between us, you pile of absolute horse shit.” Danny fires at Dallas before continuing their path away from him.
Enraged, Dallas follows them off the dance floor, trialing Danny as he guides Sam in front of him with a soft hand on his back.
“Who the fuck do you think you are talkin’ to me like that, pretty boy? Where do you get off controlin’ him like that, huh? You ain’t even his boyfriend or nothin’, I can dance with him if I fuckin’ please.” He shouts after them.
Danny turns, shielding Sam from him with his own body, preparing for the worst. I have no fucking idea what I’ll do if he swings, but at least his attention isn’t on Sammy anymore.
Before he can get to the pair, the muscular bouncer that had checked Sam and Danny’s IDs appears, seemingly out of nowhere, drawn to the commotion that Dallas’ yelling had caused.
“Is there a problem here, gentlemen?” He asks, looking from Dallas fuming to Danny’s furious but collected expression, and finally landing on Sam behind him, eyes wide with panic and darting between the other three men.
Danny starts before Dallas can even form a coherent excuse or explanation. “This man has been harassing my friend all night. Doesn’t know how to take ‘no’ for an answer.”
“Why you lyin’ piece of SHIT-“ Dallas starts towards Danny, finding his path suddenly blocked by the bouncer, his hand pushing against Dallas’ chest. “He’s lyin’ I swear to it! I’m just tryin’ to enjoy my night, dance with his friend, and his jealous ass keeps interruptin’ us! Sammy boy didn’t have no problem with us dancin’,” he peeks over the bouncer and Danny’s shoulders, trying to catch Sam’s eye. “Ain’t that right, sugar?”
“I’ve heard enough, c’mon, I’ll walk you out.” The man steps to the side and motions with his arm towards the exit, signaling to Dallas to start walking.
“ME?! You’re kickin’ me out?” his voice raises, drawing the attention of several patrons dancing nearby. “How fuckin’ dare you kick ME out!”
He raises his eyebrows at Dallas, “Either you can leave now on your own terms and hold on to whatever dignity you have left, or I can drag you out by those fancy lookin’ boots, y’hear me?”
Dallas sputters, face turning tomato red before he turns on his heel, storming out and yelling a final, “FUCK YOU! FUCK ALL OF YOU!” before being trailed out the door by the bouncer.
Danny’s grateful that all the attention drawn to them dissipates with Dallas’ departure as couples resume their dancing. He turns back to Sam, delicately taking a hold of one of his wrists and leading him to a quieter corner of the bar. Danny places his hands lightly on Sam’s shoulders, waiting for the shorter man to look him in the eyes. He softens his gaze and tone to speak to Sam, not wanting his anger at Dallas to be directed at Sam.
“Are you ok?”
Sam clears his throat, attempting to find the words to express everything he was feeling in that moment. “Yeah. I mean, no, but… yeah I’m alright. Thank you for stepping in when you did. I… I didn’t know how I was going to get away from him.” He looks down at his shoes, and a massive wave of fear and embarrassment that Danny had to step in and help, that he wasn’t able to do it himself, washes over him.
Danny gives a slight squeeze of comfort to Sam’s shoulders, causing him to look back up at him. “Of course, Sammy.” He looks around the bar briefly before turning his attention back to Sam. “Listen, we can leave if you want. Maybe wait a few minutes and then ask that bouncer if he’d walk us to our car. I know it’s crowded and,” he exhales a deep sigh through his nose, “all that just happened. So I’m ok with leaving if you want.”
“No, please. I want to stay. Other than that, I was having a lot of fun all night and I don’t want it ruined by that douchebag.” He offers a small smile to Danny, hoping it will help convince him that he truly does want to stay.
“Alright… but if you want to leave at any point, just tell me and we can go.” He expresses, raising his eyebrows for emphasis. “Do you want to dance again or go get another drink? We can do whatever you feel up for, just say the words.”
Sam pauses, thinking back on the past five minutes and allowing himself to feel everything that had been overshadowed by the anxiety and fear that Dallas had caused.
Did I find it kind of… hot, how Danny reacted to and dealt with Dallas? And the way that he keeps checking in to make sure I’m ok kind of makes me want to cry, but also… kiss him?
Sam’s head swims with confusion as the realization hits him like a truck.
Shit. I knew I was attracted to him, but I think maybe I’m in fucking love with him.
His thoughts race between this realization, to all the signs that should have tipped him off earlier, to how Danny might feel about him, and finally landing on what he should do.
He has been dropping some hints over the night, now that I think about it. You never know unless you try. Fuck what if he hates me for it. That’s insane, Danny could never hate me. I have to try.
“Can I..” Sam starts, gaining the courage to go forward with his spontaneous plan. He collects himself enough to continue, “Can I have a hug? Please, Danny?”
The look of confusion and worry at Sam’s demeanor drops from his face and is replaced by a shy grin. “Of course you can Sammy-“
Danny barely has enough time to slightly lift his arms before he is tackled around the middle by Sam, his arms clinging to Danny’s abdomen and face quickly finding a home in the crook of his neck. Danny wastes no time wrapping his arms around Sam’s shoulders, placing his left hand in the center of his mid-back, his right resting at the base of his neck, laying over his braid.
The pair stay this way for a few minutes, and Danny begins absentmindedly rubbing the other man’s back with his left hand as his right slowly comes up to cradle the back of Sam’s head.
When Danny feels Sam begin to pull away, he loosens his hold on him, leaning back to look at his friend. Sam comes to a stop with his face just inches away from Danny’s, the pair so close that he can feel Danny’s warm breath on his lips. Sam manages to tear his eyes away from Danny’s lips, moving upwards and seeing Danny staring right back at him, pupils blown so wide his irises are almost all black.
“Remember how you said we could do anything I felt up for?” he questions, voice barely above a whisper.
Danny swallows, mind racing between so many thoughts that the only coherent sound he manages to make is, “Mhm…”.
Sam takes a deep breath, attempting to calm the excited butterflies and nervous ball of energy in the pit of his stomach.
“Well, I have an idea. Of what I want, of what I feel up for.” There’s no going back after this. It’s now or never, I just need to rip the band aid off. “Kiss me. Please, Danny.”
There’s a fleeting moment of utter terror where Sam thinks that Danny doesn’t feel the same as he takes a second to process what he had just said. He suddenly snaps back into the moment, his body acting on its own accord as his mind blanks of everything but the thought of Sam.
Their lips crash together as Danny’s hand comes up to grasp Sam’s jaw, his other hand holding onto his bicep. Sam brings his hands to Danny’s sides, grasping at his bare skin through the cut outs of his muscle tee. They lose themselves in each other for what felt like hours, drinking the other up as the bustling crowd around them fades into nothing but background noise. They finally pull away, breathless and panting, as they rest their foreheads against the other, still holding each other close.
What if I open my eyes and this was all a dream, it never even happened. Sam’s mind flies from worry to worry at a mile a minute. Even worse, what if he looks like he regrets it. What if I just ruined everything and nothing will ever be the same between us. What if-
He’s ripped from his thoughts by Danny slightly tilting his head forward, his nose bumping into Sam’s. He feels Danny lean back, the loss of contact causing him to finally open his eyes despite the residual fears of what he may see. His eyes roam over Danny’s pink, plush lips, up to his blush tinted cheeks and nose, and finally finding his soft gaze, where he’s met with a look so full of warmth and love that it knocks the wind out of him.
“I can’t even tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Danny chuckles. “Not to rush anything but… do you want to get out of here?” he asks. His nerves get the best of him, causing him to continue his thought, stuttering out “… Not that we have to do anything! I didn’t mean it to suggest anything if you don’t want to do that.”
“Don’t worry, Danny. I’m fine with leaving soon. Although, I don’t want my last dance of the night to have been with, what did you call him? That ‘Buckle Bunny’ so,” Sam dons his horrible Southern accent to continue, “Will you give me one last dance, partner.”
Danny snorts, rolling his eyes playfully before he responds. “Yeah, of course.” He puts on the same accent to amuse the other boy, his attempt barely better than Sam’s. “I would be honored, sweetheart.”
Despite it being part of a bit, Sam blushes at the pet name, breaking eye contact to let his head fall against Danny’s shoulder in an attempt to hide the lovesick grin on his face. Sam hones back into the background sounds of the club he had been ignoring as the song playing over the speakers ends, and another one he actually recognized starts blaring over the speakers.
“Well, I walk into the room
Passing out hundred-dollar bills
And it kills and it thrills, like the horns on my Silverado grill.”
Sam’s head snaps up and he sees the recognition of the song painted across Danny’s face as well. Oh my fucking god, what a perfect coincidence.
“We have to dance to this one-“ he starts, dragging Danny behind him as he quickly makes his way to an empty space on the dance floor. They resume the flow they previously had while dancing as if there had been no interruption in the first place, grinning at each other as they spun and twirled until they felt dizzy.
Sam spins Danny behind him, knocking his hat off in the process and Sam fumbles for it, not wanting his hat to get trampled in the packed crowd. He manages to catch it, and suddenly remembers the rule Danny had explained to him in the car ride over. He makes sure the other man is looking at him before he places it on his own head just as the end of the chorus plays, singing along with it.
“Everybody says,
‘Save a horse, Ride a cowboy’”
Despite the dim lighting, Sam sees Danny’s pupils blow impossibly wider as his breath catches in his throat. He pulls Sam towards him by the waist, leaning towards him to be heard over the music.
“Do you want to leave now?” he asks, voice sultry and breath uneven.
“Lead the way, Danny.”
The pair exit the dance floor, Danny in front holding Sam’s hand so they didn’t get separated in the crowd as they make a beeline for the exit. The fresh air hits them like a punch as they step into the chilly night and away from the muggy, cramped club. Sam has to almost jog to keep up with Danny as he speeds down the block to where they parked. The two men practically throw themselves into the car immediately after Danny unlocks it, putting their seatbelts on as fast as possible as Danny shifts the car into reverse.
They ride in silence, the air thick with anticipation. Danny’s the first to break it, clearing his throat and glancing at Sam who is nervously chewing on his cuticles in the passenger seat.
“So, uh… I want you to know that, whatever happens, I don’t want it to be a one and done thing. I want to be with you, Sam. I want to be your boyfriend… I have for years. And if this is just an experiment, or you don’t want that then please tell me now.”
Sam drops his hand from his mouth, looking at Danny who had turned his focus back to the road. “This isn’t an experiment, I promise.” He reaches over, placing his hand on Danny’s thigh. “I want to be with you, Danny. Both in a relationship and… y'know... intimately.”
Danny steals a look at Sam, shooting him a small smile as he registers what he had said. “Good, great… that’s great.” Anxiety creeps in as his mind wanders to the implications of their conversation. He clears his throat, once again grabbing the attention of Sam.
“So uh… I have to ask.” Danny grips the steering wheel, white knuckled as nerves flood him. “Have you ever… have you ever been with another man before?”
Sam removes his hand from Danny’s leg and begins fidgeting with it in his lap, suddenly shy and slightly reserved. “No, I haven’t. I never… experimented, because the only man I’ve ever wanted to be with like that has been you.”
Danny reaches over and takes one of Sam’s hands in his own, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze as he turns into the entrance of his neighborhood. “That’s ok, we can do as much or as little as you’re comfortable with, Sammy. And I… I have… experimented before.” Sam’s head shoots up as Danny rushes to explain. “Not with another guy! I’ve just… done ‘research’, you could say. Experimented in case… in case we ever… or I ever wanted to… do that… with another man. I don’t know if you knowing that… changes how you feel… or anything.”
They pull up to Danny’s house as he finishes his explanation, Danny turning the car off and looking over at Sam to see his reaction to his confession.
“That actually makes me feel better, Danny. I know… I know you’ll take care of me, I trust you.” He offers a small smile as the pair sit in now comfortable silence, taking in the other’s features and the new dynamic between them. “Not to rush anything but, we should go inside. Like I said earlier, ‘save a horse, ride a cowboy.’ And I am still wearing your hat.” Sam winks, then promptly exits the car and saunters up to Danny’s front door, leaving the poor man speechless in his seat, with a growing problem in his jeans.
He rushes after him, locking his car as he resists the urge to sprint up the driveway towards Sam. Both feel the new, pent-up energy between them as Danny fumbles with his keys as he tries to unlock the door, finally opening it and pulling Sam inside. The second he clicks the lock back into place, his hands are on Sam, shoving him against the wall as their lips collide, the pace and urgency much faster than it had been back at the bar.
Danny slots himself in between Sam’s legs, grinding into him and feeling his hardening dick against his own. Both men groan at the action, spurring them on even more as Danny playfully bites down on Sam’s lower lip. He gasps at the slight pain mixing with the pleasure, and Danny’s hat falls off as Sam’s head falls back against the wall. The hat is left abandoned on the floor as Danny trails a combination of soft bites and soothing kisses down the other man’s neck, pulling Sam with him as he backs down the hall in the direction of his room.
The pair break apart long enough for them to kick their shoes off halfway down the hall, hands returning to each other’s bodies as Danny pushes Sam backwards into his room. His hands trail lightly across the hem of Sam’s shirt, his fingers ghosting across the soft skin of Sam’s stomach, causing an anticipatory shiver to run through him. Danny raises his eyebrows at Sam, silently asking for the permission that is immediately granted with an eager nod. Danny pulls the other man’s shirt over his head, his own shirt following in quick pursuit, and their lips reconnect as Danny’s muscle tee joins Sam’s button up on the floor.
Sam’s hands fumble at the button on Danny’s jeans as he’s backed against the bed, the backs of his knees hitting the edge, and he breaks their kiss to prevent himself from falling. Danny finishes the job Sam had started, unbuttoning his jeans and shoving them down his legs, attempting to step out of them as his hands find the button on Sam’s pants, both of their jeans ending up in a crumpled pile on the floor.
Both men hastily climb onto the bed, and Danny quickly finds a spot on top of Sam between his legs, pinning him to the bed with his body as he sucks what are sure to become hickeys into his neck and chest. Sam’s hands tangle in Danny’s hair, giving a slight tug at his roots causing Danny to groan softly and grind against him. Danny trails his way back up to Sam’s lips, giving him one final kiss before he pulls away, looking at the man below him.
In between shaky breaths, Danny manages to form a coherent sentence amidst his racing thoughts. “Listen… I know you said ‘ride a cowboy’�� but considering this is your first time with another man… I understand if you don’t want to try that tonight… I want you to be completely comfortable, Sammy.”
The other man looks up at him with adoration at how considerate and understanding he was, smiling at him as he props himself up on his elbows, placing a gentle kiss to Danny’s lips. “I trust you, Danny. I want to go all the way with you. Like I said earlier, I know you’ll take care of me.”
Danny’s heart soars at his response, returning his smile before his lips are on Sam’s once more. He pulls away, eliciting a whine of protest from Sam, confusion written on his face as he watches Danny get up and disappear into his bathroom. Sam’s confusion furthers when he hears the sink turn on for a few seconds, Danny coming back into the bedroom moments later, a wet washcloth in hand. He sets it on top of the small table next to his bed as he opens the bottom drawer, Sam’s jaw dropping slightly and his breath catching in his throat as he sees what’s in Danny’s hand. He places a condom and small bottom of lube next to the washcloth and returns to his position over Sam.
“Now,” Danny starts, “Where was I?” His mouth returns to Sam’s neck as he resumes his previous actions of peppering light bites across his skin, soothing them with kisses or the flick of his tongue. Sam’s hands find their way back into Danny’s hair as he begins trailing downwards, his mouth grazing over Sam’s collarbone, then down the center of his chest, finally stopping at his stomach, just above the waistband of his underwear.
“What’s… what’s the towel for? Why do you need lube if there’s a condom?” Sam pants out.
“Well, Sammy.” Danny makes his way back up, stopping just inches away from Sam’s face as he looks at the other man. “There’s a little more prep work than you might be used to… I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Oh… ok.“
“We can stop whenever, I don’t want you to do something you’re uncomfortable doing.” Danny starts, worry that he could be rushing Sam flooding into him.
Sam sees the change in demeanor and is quick to reach up and give Danny’s biceps a gentle squeeze. “I know. I don’t want to stop, but if I do I promise I’ll tell you.”
Danny gives him a small smile with this reassurance, all anxiety leaving his body at Sam’s words, before ducking his head down to give Sam a quick kiss. He looks at the man below him as his fingertips begin to trace the band of his boxers, cocking his eyebrow as he questions, “Can I?”
“Please do.”
Danny needs no other confirmation as he pulls the fabric down off his legs, quickly joining the rest of their clothes on the floor. His eyes roam over Sam’s body, starting at his face and moving south as he sucks a breath in through his mouth.
I feel so… exposed. As if Danny could read Sam’s mind, he pulls off his own briefs and chucks them towards the growing pile of their clothes.
Danny reaches for the bottle of lube, squirting it liberally onto the fingers of his right hand. He caps the bottle again and places it back on the table as he evenly spreads the lube on his fingers. He finds himself back in between Sam’s legs and begins to press soft kisses to the insides of his thighs as he looks up at him.
“You ready, Sammy?”
“Please fuck me, Danny.”
With that, Danny brings his hand up to Sam’s entrance, circling his middle finger there before slowly pushing the digit in. Sam’s mouth falls open as his head tilts back, his hands fisting the sheets as Danny pauses to let him get used to the feeling.
“You ok, sweetheart?”
Sam’s heart skips a beat at the pet name. “Yeah, please move, I swear I’m ok. I just need you to fuck me, please.”
Sam’s words make Danny grind against the bed, searching for any friction to relieve the ache in between his legs, his cock so hard that was almost painful. He slowly pulls his finger out, thrusting it back in carefully as Sam whines and clenches around him. He steadily picks up his pace as he’s met with an almost constant stream of whines and breathy moans from Sam’s mouth.
“Is it ok if I add another? I want to get to 3 before you ride me.”
Sam moans, “Oh FUCK, please Danny, please, I fucking need you.”
On his next pump in, Danny’s ring finger joins his middle as Sam groans at the additional digit. Danny slows his movement, scissoring his fingers inside Sam to slowly stretch him out. He notices Sam’s cock leaking precum onto his stomach, the tip a deep red from neglect. He grabs the base with his unoccupied hand, bringing his mouth up and circling his head with his tongue. The moan that leaves Sam’s mouth is what Danny can only describe as pornographic, his hips involuntarily jutting forward as he groans around Sam’s dick. Danny experimentally bobs his head up and down, drawing more moans and curses to fall from Sam’s lips.
“FUCK- Danny- as much as I- shit- as much as I’m enjoying this, I’m not going to last… shit, I’m not going to last much longer like this- please- please add another-“ Sam pants out.
Danny obliges, pulling himself off of Sam as he adds his index finger to Sam’s ass. He bites and kisses marks into Sam’s thighs as he pumps his fingers in and out, stretching them to make sure he wouldn’t hurt Sam with the size of his cock.
After a minute, Sam is practically coming undone around Danny’s fingers, “Danny please, please I’m ready. I can’t last much longer, please just fuck me.” He whimpers, breath uneven and shallow as he tries his best not to fall over the edge.
He removes his fingers, and Sam sighs at the loss as Danny wipes his hand with the washcloth, grabbing the condom and tearing it open after his hands have been cleaned. He tosses the wrapper into a small trash can next to the table as he rolls the condom on.
“You want to get on top, Sammy? You can control how much you take that way.” Danny asks sincerely. He smirks before continuing, “That and you did say ‘ride a cowboy’.”
Without saying anything, Sam flips the pair and straddles Danny, now looking up at him with wide eyes, pupils blown wide from desire. Sam reaches behind him and grabs Danny’s cock, lining it up with his entrance before slowly sinking down onto him. Both men moan loudly at their shared pleasure, as Sam continues slowly down until Danny is completely buried in him.
Sam gives himself a moment to adjust to Danny’s size before he begins working himself up and down on his dick. Danny's hands come up to grip Sam’s hips, guiding him as he picks up his speed. Sam’s hands find a place on Danny’s shoulders as he continues his movement, squeezing his muscled skin so hard he was sure he would leave marks from his nails.
Sam lowers himself onto Danny once more and suddenly, his cock hits a spot in Sam that causes his entire body to be set on fire, alight with a surge of pleasure he had never felt before. The only sound he manages to make is a gravelly, “Oh FUCK-“ before he begins to coat Danny’s stomach and chest with his release.
He clenches around Danny as he rides his way through his orgasm, the added pressure causing Danny to follow suit as he arches his back off the mattress, filling the condom up as pleasure crashes over him.
They both come down from their high, panting and spent as Sam raises himself off Danny and comments in an almost awestruck tone, “I think you hit my prostate- holy fuck-“ before collapsing onto the bed next to him. The pair lay there to catch their breath for a moment, and Danny is the first to move as he takes off the used condom and tosses it into the trash, next reaching for the washcloth and wiping Sam’s cum from his stomach. He returns to Sam, gently cleaning him off as he lays on the bed, exhausted from their activities.
Danny finishes and tosses the towel onto the pile of their clothes on the floor, telling himself that that would be his problem tomorrow. He gently pulls the sheets down under Sam, trying to get him under the covers without disturbing him too much.
“Hey, Sammy. You fine crashing now and just saving the shower for tomorrow morning?” he questions softly as he settles himself in next to Sam and pulls the covers over them.
Sam cracks his eyes open, immediately wrapping his arms around Danny’s torso and pulling him close. “Mhm.” he mumbles sleepily, “My legs feel like jello, I think you’d have to carry me to the shower and hold me up.”
Danny laughs lightly, wrapping his arms around Sam’s shoulders and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I wouldn’t mind that.” He responds before reaching over and turning the light off, returning to the embrace of his best friend, now boyfriend, as their limbs tangle together.
Sam yawns, nuzzling his face into Danny’s chest before mumbling, “Maybe next time, we’re definitely going back to that club.”, voice muffled from both exhaustion and his position against Danny.
He smiles, the feeling of Sam’s body against his slowly pulling him towards a much needed slumber. He manages to mutter out a quiet, “Maybe next time I’ll do the riding, cowboy.”, before he gives in to the feeling and drifts into a deep sleep, comfortable and safe with Sammy tucked against him in his arms.
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A/N: I would like it to be known there is genuinely a line dancing bar in Nashville called Layla’s Honky Tonk, I was not making that hick ass name up, just changed it to “Bradley’s” to make it a bit gayer.
Also my friends wanted me to mention that we almost solely referred to Dallas as “Buckle Bunny” the entire time I was writing and asking them for input on his character.
All the songs mentioned, in chronological order:
Rhinestone Cowboy- Glen Campbell
Fast Car- Luke Combs
(Fast Car will forever and always be their song to me now)
Nothing But You- Leaving Austin
Turn on the Radio- Reba McEntire
Cruise- Florida Georgia Line
Last Name- Carrie Underwood
Jolene- Dolly Parton
Save a Horse- Big & Rich
Thanks again for reading :)
#fic#greta van fleet#greta van fleet fan fiction#gvf fic#greta van fluff#daniel gvf#greta van smut#gvf smut#sammy gvf#sanny gvf#cowboy sanny#cowboy danny
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at the end of most, but not all, things
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: Major Character Death Fandom: Supernatural Ship: Gen (Michael & OCs) Additional Tags: Post-Apocalypse, Future Fic, Major Original Character(s), Angst, Siblings, Past Character Death, Michael Wings the Apocalypse (Supernatural), POV Original Female Character Wordcount: 2,754 Summary:
Look after your brother.
Notes:
consider: an alternate take on michael winning the apocalypse. life goes on. for some people. for michael day of @spnarchangelweek, prompt: decay.
“Luke!” Michelle calls. “Luke! Get back here!”
It’s one simple job. Look after your brother. He doesn’t have to make it so difficult for her. Already, she can hear the raucous sounds of the caravan they’re traveling with disappearing behind her as she forces her way through the brush. Luke’s legs are way too short for it to be fair that he can run so fast. He’s going to get himself in trouble. She tries to think that vindictively, because he would deserve it for the sticks getting caught on her curls and the bushes clawing at her legs, but she can’t stop the way her stomach still drops imagining it. If he got bit by something or even hurt too badly while they’re on the road… Michelle swallows. “Luke!”
There’s snakes out beyond the barely tamed roads. Coyotes. Bears.
And other things. Things Michelle doesn’t believe in because her mom always told her they were just stories her grandfather was making up. But the way he’d always gone so deathly still. After the end, he’d say. (“End of what?” Michelle asked. No, no, the end, he’d always answered. She still didn’t know what that meant.) There were people who stopped being people, who’d tear you apart limb from limb, or worse, make you like them-
She doesn’t even know what he thinks he’ll find out here. Little boys have stupid ideas about adventures that don’t end in them getting eaten. Michelle tries to kick a rock out of her way, but it’s lodged firm in the dirt. She kicks it again to no avail, shakes her head, and goes around. There’s more of them, all lined up. She pauses for a moment, peering down at the well-worn stone, eaten away by rain and moss and most of all, time. If those markings on them were once words, they haven’t been read since before she was born. She makes a face and moves on.
Michelle shoves her way through a particularly thick patch of branches, her brother’s name on its way out of her throat, when her foot doesn’t meet solid ground where it should. She yelps before she falls forward, spinning wildly until the only thing she knows is each harsh point of impact—her shoulder, her back, her knees, rolling over and over until gravity finally spits her out at the bottom.
Immediately, before she tries to move, she starts checking all her limbs just like her mom taught her to. Nothing feels worse than bruised. It probably felt like a longer fall than it was.
She rolls onto her back, about to let out a pitiful sob of a breath to get through the pain.
“Michelle!” Luke’s voice. Finally. She catches the sob and locks it up tight behind her gritted teeth. He’s already next to her before she’s managed to sit up. She appreciates what little help he can give.
She takes his little round face between her hands. There’s dirt all over his cheeks. She licks her thumb and tries to scrub it off, only for him to wriggle out from under her. “Gross! Don’t spit on me!”
“You’re a mess!” she says back. He probably took a similar tumble to her, but she still shoves him for being a brat, hard enough to knock him back on his butt. “And you’re in so much trouble when I tell Mom!”
“I got lost.” He sticks out his tongue. She does it right back and then feels her face flush as she snaps her tongue back into her mouth. She’s so much more mature than him. She can’t let him drag her down to his level. She stands up, trying fruitlessly to brush her pants clean of dirt.
That’s when the ground beneath her feet catches her eye.
She glances back up at where she’d fallen from. The bank isn’t steep, just unexpected in the middle of nowhere. The top is exploding with greenery, but as her eyes trace the path of her fall, it… dies. Plants wilt and dry to crackling remains that have broken in her wake. Michelle swallows and looks down again.
Under her shoe, the ground isn’t dead. It’s blackened. She licks her lips and knows the taste on them isn’t dirt. There’s too much smoke in it. She moves to see the shape of the Earth’s burn scars, stepping off of them back to the comforting dry brown of sand and dust. Luke looks at her funny as her gaze travels up the extended fingers of the mark he’s still sitting on.
“What?” he asks.
“Nothing,” she answers too quickly. “We’re going back.” He’s on his feet in an instant, but the pout on his lips tells her she won’t be getting them to safety without a fight.
“Not yet,” he demands, and then he points behind him. “I want to get one for Mom.”
Michelle turns her gaze beyond him.
There’s an impossible blossom of life in the middle of the pit they’ve fallen into. It towers above their heads, beaded with thick scarlet between the vibrant leaves. A rose bush. She can’t put words to why her heart is beating too hard in her chest.
“No,” she says. Luke’s face screws up. She tries to reason with him. “She’s probably already worried. She’ll be less mad-”
“If we bring her something!” he cuts her off, bouncing on his toes in agitation.
“I said no.”
“I said yes!” Luke ignores her. She tries to grab him before he scampers off, but he ducks under her hand. Brat. Her heart pounds as his feet take him down the length of the burnt ground.
It’s leading to the bush.
She scrambles after her little brother. She doesn’t know how he can even think here. Michelle feels like the air is choking itself down her throat, and tears spring at the corners of her eyes for her to wipe away as fast as she can before Luke sees.
“Just one,” he promises, inspecting the roses. They’re unreal. Michelle has never seen anything so alive or so bright. They’re as fat as fists on the ends of their stems, petals folded so tightly that they remind her more of meat before it’s been cooked than of flowers.
Michelle tries to compose herself. Whatever they look like, they are only flowers.
She circles the bush as Luke picks a flower. She rubs her hands together. “I don’t think- Fuck!” She’s not sure what surprises her more, the word bursting out of her mouth and making her sound more like Mom than she ever has, or the statue she’d thought was a person standing in the thick of the branches.
“What!” Luke says. She feels his hand grip the back of her shirt. His voice is too high. “What!”
She squeezes her eyes shut. “…Statue,” she admits, as he sees what spooked her. Luke snorts and hits her in the arm. Her bruises ache, and she bites her lip against a hiss of pain.
“You’re so stupid,” he says, going back to his roses.
The statue is heads higher than Michelle like most adults still are. It’s too perfect, just like the rose bush. Michelle has seen so many statues in her life, sitting in front of abandoned houses, on the sides of roads, some even on pedestals in the middle of the reclaimed towns. She likes the horses best. They already look a little odd, so time hasn’t weathered them into something weirder, just something as weird as most horses look.
She doesn’t like statues of people, usually. Their features all wash away. Their hands stretch out fingerless, if they still have hands, or arms, at all. The outline of a person remained, anonymous and breaking down with every passing year. And then there were the ones she saw bowing their heads, hands together, broken extremities strapped to their backs like torture devices. She hated those most of all. When she’d been little, she used to pick up rocks and tell herself that she would knock them down or chip their worn faces. She always stopped herself before she let the stones loose.
Luke had broken one’s head clean off once, and their Mom had scolded him while laughing.
This one’s face is immaculately preserved. Every frozen detail of him sits as it must have back when her Grandfather was a little boy. The only disturbance is the lichens growing up the sides of his body. The teal spreads across his pale skin. She frowns. Most statues with colors are faded, but he almost hurts to look at. She takes a step closer.
He stares down into the bush. When she looks at his face, her chest hurts like she’s been shoved. For a moment, she’s a little girl again, and her mother is screaming like if she’s loud enough, she’ll wake the dead, and Michelle knows that her Grandfather won’t tell her any more stories to keep her up at night ever again, and she has her brother in her arms, held so tight because she can’t imagine letting him go, not like that, not ever, not Luke.
She wants to apologize to a statue without knowing who he’s lost. She shakes herself out of it. Luke’s right; she is stupid.
“Got one,” Luke says. She looks back at him. He’s down in the blackened dirt, arms deep in the bush.
“Careful of the-” He jolts. “…Thorns,” she sighs as he pulls a hand free and sucks on a sore finger for a moment. “Let me get it.”
“I can do it myself,” he says, stubbornly. Michelle shakes her head, stepping over next to him and crouching low to see the rose he’s chosen. It’s deep in there, but it’s gorgeously red. Luke grasps at it, surrounding it with his little hands. He pulls. The rose moves a little, but it refuses to come free. Luke huffs. He pulls harder. The thorny vines wrapped around the bush cave towards his yanking, and Michelle puts a hand on his shoulder.
“Careful,” she warns. He pulls again, and the bush seems to groan as its branches pitch towards them. The rose won’t come.
“I’ve got it!” he insists. He throws his whole body behind the next pull.
The rose explodes between his hands, and he falls backwards trailing dark red petal droplets all the way. Branches snap and vines shift and an alabaster stone rolls out after her brother as he sits, dumbfounded. Michelle rolls her eyes.
“Mom will love those.”
“Shut up,” Luke mutters, reaching for the stone at his feet as Michelle steps around to peer at the statue again.
They both gasp in fear at the same time.
Michelle stumbles back. The statue is facing her. Its eyes bore into her. She reaches desperately for her brother, and she finds his hand grabbing back. The statue moves, effortlessly pulling itself free of the vines wrapped around its entire body like it’s nothing. She sees its hand release around something, the hilt of a hidden weapon, and she shrinks back with her brother shielded behind her.
“Leave us alone!” she shouts. “Go away!” She can barely speak around her own fear, but she can feel Luke’s hand trembling in hers. “Help! Help!” But no one hears them, and no one comes, and the statue advances in rough motions, like it knew how to walk once and forgot. Michelle is breathing too fast to think.
It stops.
He slowly goes down to one knee, just below her eye level. He looks at her brother first, and then to her, and when he speaks, it’s like the groan of an old house settling.
“Don’t be afraid,” he says.
“Please don’t hurt us,” Michelle whispers.
His eyes fix on her for too long for comfort. She can’t meet them. They’re too deep. She’ll get lost. She squeezes Luke’s hand. She can hear him hyperventilating.
“I won’t,” the statue says. “Please”—He outstretches his hands, and Michelle takes another step back with Luke.—“give him back to me.”
“Leave my brother alone!” she snaps, louder. A look hangs across the statue’s face, much like the one that was frozen there before but he’s almost smiling, like he wants to but won’t let himself have that.
“Not your brother,” he says, and he tilts his head until Michelle follows his gaze to Luke.
Luke is looking up at her, but in his other hand, he’s hooked the stone-
It’s not a stone.
Chills go up Michelle’s spine. The skull hanging from its eye socket in her brother’s hand is missing its jaw, and many of its teeth, and a long crack runs up the middle from the nose.
Movement drags her gaze back to the statue, more terrified than ever. He stands up to his full height and turns away from them. He picks along the rose bush, fingers brushing the petals of many roses until he finds one near the top that neither of them ever could have reached. He breaks the stem in one quick motion.
He offers it.
He wants to trade, Michelle realizes.
She’s more scared of what he’ll do if they don’t.
“Luke,” she says. She takes a deep breath. She’s more mature than him. She can stop her hands from shaking, at least for a moment. She has to. “Luke, give me the skull.” Luke looks like he wants to do nothing more than get rid of the bones, but he shakes his head. He won’t let her take them. “It’ll be okay,” she won’t know if she’s lying or not for another minute, so she can sound like she believes herself. “I promise.”
Luke presses the skull into her hands hesitantly. Tears streak his face with wet brown trails that she keeps herself calm by imagining drying off later, teasing him about how snotty he gets when he’s crying.
The skull is freezing cold in her hands. Her fingers go numb just from carrying it.
She takes one step forward, and another, and another. The statue is so still again that she might believe he’d gone back to being frozen. Her gaze jumps across moss-covered patches of his body, refusing to look up into his face until she’s close enough that all she looks at is the rose in his other hand.
In the blink of an eye, she shoves the skull towards his outstretched palm, snatches up the rose, and darts back to her brother’s side. The thorns dig into her freezing skin, bringing it back to life.
The statue turns the skull over in his hands. Luke grabs Michelle’s hand again, squeezing and sniffling.
She suddenly feels like the statue has forgotten they were ever there at all. It strokes the bones it’s recollected with the same love her Mom gives the two of them goodnight kisses. Michelle’s stomach roils unpleasantly.
“Let’s go,” she whispers to Luke, wary of attracting attention back to them. She gets no arguments this time.
They back away slowly. They follow the burnt ground back, each extruding point from the center streak of destruction growing smaller and smaller as they get further from the bush and the statue. Michelle keeps her eyes on him as she listens to her brother climb back up out of the pit.
The statue raises the skull up and presses his forehead against the broken bones of it. Michelle stares.
And then she climbs after her brother as quickly as she can, back into the world on the living, amid buzzing flies and reaching plants and the distant sounds of people calling their names.
Michelle wants to look back. She freezes.
Luke tugs on her hand.
“Are you crying?” he asks, voice very small.
Michelle’s cheeks are hot. She wipes tears off of them. “No,” she lies.
Luke presses forward into her. He shudders as he tries to breathe. She wraps her arms around her little brother and holds on tight.
“Do we tell Mom?” he asks.
“No,” Michelle says. “I don’t think we tell anyone, ever.” She doesn’t know who that protects, but she doesn’t want to know, either. She doesn’t want to think about the statue, or the skull he held, ever again. She pets her little brother’s hair.
He’s safe. That’s all she needs to think about. That’s her one job. Look after your brother.
“Okay.” He shakes. “Okay.” She gives him the rose to hold in his trembling hands, and they follow the voices back to the caravan.
(Enjoyed it? Any interaction is welcomed. You can even support me on Ko-Fi <3)
#SPNArchangelWeek#fanfiction#1001-5000#teen and up audiences#spn#genfic#michael & oc#oc#michael spn#endverse#<- well. a variation on endverse. technically.#angst#character death
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I've love to hear about 3 for the WIP game
“How do you live” is a follow up of my first short story that focuses on Cirz’s (my jedi oc’s) biological family with some headcanons about Pantora sprinkled in, so while the first story ended on Cirz’s parents discovering his force sensitivity and giving him away the second one is about them coping with that decision and then about day to day of their second kid who is just a normie young girl that is about to be growing up with the war as a background noise more than anything until she ends up seeing her planet degrade under the Imperial rule. And it’s mostly for me to infodump my ideas for Pantoran worldbuilding, and because I like to think about sci-fi slice of life, and about how laypeople perceive the jedi, the war and etc, etc, etc and yes I planned for Cirz to show up at some point and give him a reverse culture shock but considering how slow i write it may never happen
i think i posted the first part on tumblr somewhere but i can repost it again, it's all just loose short scenes
014. Sometimes words have a curious ability to spread like a poison. Like blood coloring the water, like spilled oil. In this way almost all neighbors of Rzam and Luciola shortly know the same news – The young couple had a son and now they don't. The child was there one morning and by noon, he was gone. In polite Pantoran society it is frowned upon to ask about the tragedy of a family. The family would have to speak up first. Thus no one brings up the fabricated rumors to the mother nor the pressing questions to the father. But rumors there are nonetheless, for this is the nature of people to fill in the blanks with fiction.
015. The Jedi Master who visited the young couple warned them about the reaction they may receive. He warned them about revealing the truth freely. Even the connection to a Jedi may put a risk on the family – he explained this in an eerily calm manner – yet it falls to the parents to decide what they wish to disclose. In the end, Rzam and Luciola decide to inform only their family about how a Jedi Master visited their home, and how he took their firstborn away into the broad galaxy. To the rest, Cirz only becomes known as the boy moved offworld for private matters. Heath issues perhaps, for the parents never speak of when he may return.
016. Rzam's favourite neighbor, Penril, lives in the apartment a floor below, which means Rzam sees her daily going about the tasks of life. They didn’t always see each other favourably, however in recent year a good friendship blossomed between the two women. In the elevator Penril muses on the lack of the son, and the conversations that she had with Rzam in the past. — He is one of the gifted isn't he – she asks one time, fully believing Rzam this time. She admits Rzam's stories were always strange, making her wonder whether she made them up. Now Penril knows Rzam didn't make them up after all. Rzam tells her then that she wishes she did.
017. This is your sign to get a divorce. Rzam's mother hasn’t forgotten what bothered her about Luciola, nor about the generations long dispute about wealth. He let your son go with the monks! Rzam’s mother cries – who does such a thing, what parent, what father! — No matter the amount of times Rzam explains to her mother that it was a decision made together (Rzam too, decided to let her child go, she let her child go, she let a stranger take him towards a future she may never know. Did she make a mistake? Does it make her a bad person? A bad mother? She still worries every night as she falls asleep.) Such explanations don’t seem to convince her family. In their eyes, they have been robbed, much like their grand grand grand grand fathers. And it hurts, oh, how it hurts.
018. If explaining the situation during a family gathering was hard, then checking up with the legal systems is much worse, for as it turns out there is no procedure for when your child is a “Force” wielding prodigy who gets spirited away to the Core Worlds for a lifetime, or as it turns out a week later, there exists a procedure, but it was out of use for so long that someone forgot to include it in the new documentation index. The last registration of a Jedi learner, according to the clerk on the other side of the comlink, happened some two hundred years ago, standard time. Rzam is not sure what she expected, but a wave of loneliness overtakes her upon hearing the numbers. She realizes there may not even be a single other person on the planet who shares her experience.
019. Cirzpibog Shio-Imiela, born 971 PRR, now permanent resident of Coruscant – Corusca subsector in The Core Worlds, and Pantora – Sujimis sector in The Outer Rim, receives an updated note in his documentation. Henceforth his legal guardians become The Jedi Masters of the Jedi Order on Coruscant, with the encrypted signature of both of the parents confirming their consent and one additional signature from the Grandmaster Of The Order appearing in the file several days later, the child’s enrollment to The Temple is complete.
020. Weeks pass before life goes back to normal, but then again, it won’t ever be the same. Luciola thinks about those events too, but his troubled thoughts remain unspoken. He promises himself not to bring up Cirzpibog in conversation unless Rzam does so first. That seems to gradually make things better for them. There is less time spent lingering on the subject of the child, and more planning about what to do next. These plans only briefly encompass divorce or moving out of the city like Rzam’s parents want, which makes Luciola relieved.
021. Weeks pass, and in Luciola’s workshop the amount of ceramic statuettes personifying the deity of time (or unions, or luck, or work, or money, or fate, depending which city you ask in) increases to the point he runs out of space. This all begins one evening as he is cleaning his work space and finds a box of broken cups along with pieces of a statuette. It is the statuette Cirz lifted in the air and broke. He understands now that with the help of the Force his son was able to achieve this unthinkable feat, though at the time he didn’t know what it meant. Luciola spends the rest of that evening putting the statuette back together with golden glue, and the next evening, and the next, he creates stylish idols adorned in Pantoran Gold. In his defense, Luciola says, every artist is a slave to his inspiration.
022. The folklore of Pantora has certain enthusiasts, mainly scholars within specialized fields such as history and culture sciences who are predicting the local beliefs will disappear in the next three centuries. This means Luciola only has luck selling the statuettes on Pantoran market and it means he struggles to rid the house of the excessive idols. He never cared to have a shrine in the apartment or anything like it, he frankly thinks it is an outdated, dust-gathering decoration, but as one part of his work space becomes overtaken by the statuettes, he resigns to treating them with respect the tradition requires. In the morning before starting his work he pours fresh water into one of his cups, “offering nourishment” to “his guests” then the process repeats in the evening, because the mood of the deities is believed to change at night. Even though nobody ever drinks this water Luciola can’t help himself from checking from time to time. His grandfather would laugh.
023. Rzam absolutely hates these statues, especially the fact they are placed on her eye level. She quietly rearranges the display one day, turning the faces towards a wall, and caught in the act she is hurriedly shooed out of the room. At this point, Rzam decides her husband is becoming sick from inhaling ceramic glue. She books them a three day trip to a Mid Rim resort on a planet with a sea that is warm like soup. The change of environment seems to help. Next month Rzam discovers she is pregnant again.
024.What if this happens again? Wonders Luciola, he always wonders, every day for ten months. What would they do if another offspring of theirs is not normal? Luciola doesn’t think he can survive that again. But Rzam, as strange as it may seem, says it is different, although when Luciola asks her, she is not sure how to make it sound rational in any way. The feeling is a different one, and right now she feels so certain that her child will stay on Pantora, will grow up healthily, and will follow the family trade. It may as well be an entire future stretching out in her mind each time she thinks about it. And if it isn't she will make sure it will be.
025. In the evening the freezing lakes of Pantora crack singing a low peaceful song. In the morning Lyr Shio-Imiela is born during the first melting of the snow. The warm season begins.
026. Normal children don’t notice when you stare at their backs, nor can they open doors on their own, or predict when someone leaves the house. Those were all things Cirz could do but Lyr can’t. Lyr is not a Jedi. No one will come seeking her. That is all that matters.
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I saw your requests were open so I'm using this as opportunity to learn more about your other ocs 🏃♂️
Really interested in Angelica so mayhaps, Angelica with the word Starlight? (If you prefer canon characters though I'd love to request Yoimiya with the word goldfish ! <3)
No pressure! And have nice day Holly :>
tato, idk what you put in this ask but i wanted to write all of it... and so i did :3c i'm putting my pining idiots, angelica and selene, in this post and make a separate one for yoimiya!!
i was set on this scene since reading the ask, but it was harder to put inot words than i expected bc i haven't introduced anything about these two yet, so i wanted to put in as much info as i could while still keeping it legible (though i fear most metaphors are solely for me until i actually yap about these two properly)
𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚 - 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭
In the woods behind the campus, two students sat under the swaying branches of a grand tree. Far above them unfurled a tapestry of countless stars, illuminating the night sky and occasionally winking down at the pair. The breeze, which gently rustled their clothes and curled around strands of their hair playfully, seemingly shared the warmth that was so apparent between the two girls whose fingers were just one slight movement apart from touching on the blanket.
Angelica had always been fond of the starry sight, gazing at that grand ocean all her life with unbound curiosity and longing. So she studied everything she could about it. Many people found it frightening apparently, that vast nothingness which was so far and yet so close, but never her. She thought it rather comforting. When the young girl told her mother she one day wanted to travel to the stars, the woman had asked her if she wouldn’t feel lonely and the question had confused her ever since. Where would be the difference to her life down here?
“Oh, and that constellation is–!” Angelica exclaimed, pointing further right, only to find that the girl next to her wasn’t following her direction. Oh no, she had talked too much again. Selene probably didn’t care at all and regretted meeting her here in the first place. How could someone screw up a chance like this? “I’m so sorry, it’s probably really boring to hear me go on about some constellations the entire time…”
“No, not at all,” Selene replied, her lovely voice short-circuiting something in the Ignihyde student’s brain. Especially as she propped one arm up on her leg and leaned her head on it as she watched Angelica with a smile. “I like hearing you talk about the things you’re passionate about. It’s really cute. And you know a lot, so you clearly care, which only makes me want to hear more.”
“Oh, that’s a relief,” Angelica sighed, trying to pick up her earlier thought process. The moon bathed Selene in its silver light, making her jade green hair glow even more than usual and highlighting the striking colours of her wings. She was always beautiful, oh Angelica was aware of that, but in that moment, where it was just the two of them under the night sky, Selene was downright enchanting. Hastily, Angelica turned back to the stars. “The sight is beautiful, don’t you think?”
“Indeed, it is.”
When the brown-haired girl glanced back to see which star Selene was looking at, she found herself face to face with the Pomefiore student. For a moment, the world around them seemed to go still. Nothing existed but the two of them. Selene wondered if Angelica knew that the entirety of the night sky seemed to reside in her eyes. Or if she was aware that in Selene’s eyes, she shined brighter than any of the stars she had told her about.
The shift was barely noticeable in itself. But when Selene intertwined her pink-hued fingers with Angelica’s dark ones, Angelica welcomed the feeling. Maybe she had just found the answer to an old question.
1 character, 1 word, 11 minutes
general masterlist
more yapping about angelica & selene bc i am clinically normal about them (and to maybe fill in some blanks for people who aren't me)
i'll start with angelica since the ask was about her (but they are a package deal, do not separate them). angelica is a second year student from ignihyde and twisted from evangeline, the star from princess and the frog. she grew up rather lonely and has a bit of a hard time bridging the gap she feels to other people. like most ignihyde students, she likes tinkering with tech, especially stuff that has to do with space.
selene is a second year student from pomefiore and a luna moth beastwoman (that term just feels off when talking about her ㅠㅠ) twisted from absolem from alice in wonderland. she's always looking for a way to improve herself and can come off as nitpicky because of it (very "princess and the pea"). her talents include dress making and potionology; she's currently working on potions that can shrink or enlarge the user.
as for their relationship, angelica developped a crush on selene at first sight but is so in her head about it that she doesn't notice any of the huge signs selene is dropping. or well, she does notice them, but they couldn't possibly mean what she wants them to mean. think "are you flirting with me" - "have been for a year but thanks for noticing", that's them, my pining bug yuri couple (well they’re pining here, in my head they’re already together hehe)
#┊holly’s potions ೃ༄#┊✩彡 divine correspondence ♡#┊✩彡 cherished guests ♡#┊✩彡 letter from — tato ♡#your honour i love them#i wish you could see them they are so cool#i hope this was coherent to anyone else#i'm editing this way too late bc i wanted to finish all of your prompts today ㅠㅠ#using insider knowledge to get me to talk about my ocs smh /silly#twst#twisted wonderland#twst ocs#┊twst! oc: selene ೃ༄#┊twst! oc: angelica ೃ༄
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name. shannon pronouns. they/them preferred comms. discord is fastest, but tumblr ims also work! name of muse(s). top five strongest go - my oc tatsu, megumi fushiguro, sae itoshi, tsumiki fushiguro, reo mikage experience with RP. okay so i was 12 and very into kingdom hearts when i found this random fansite with a forum that people were just using for RP. in retrospect i was veery fortunate that everyone was chill and also young, but i actually still keep in touch with a lot of them to this day! from there i moved to gaiaonline, fb, started tumblr rpc around 2010-2011 through 2018, fell off tumblr rpc, was briefly abbacchio in jjba rp 2019-early 2020, fell off again bc my computer was dying and mental health, and now i'm back again as of this past may! best experiences. ok this is SO sappy i'm sorry but easily that i met my husband in mass effect rpc! i was only writing kaidan at the time, he also wrote kaidan, and one day he hit my inbox to tell me how much he really liked my kaidan muse and we bonded over it and kind of became each other's primary kaidans for our own sheps DKFHDKJFDSF. he came out to visit me and then just... did not go home DSKFDSKFJDSF and then we got married 3 years ago. he's my favorite writer and we still write with each other over discord to this day. <3 pet peeves / dealbreakers. i really don't know that i get annoyed by much but my anxiety does spike really easily so i do try to curate my feed accordingly. i've had bad experiences in the past and so i try to really have the vibe of like... maintaining that balance of passion and love for this hobby while also reiterating that it is just a hobby that should be fun way more than it should be stressful - and that i hope that there's no stress when interacting with me! muse preference (fluff, angst, smut). i am kind of a huge fluff person. when the real world stresses me out, i just want to write my muses being happy! i love thinking about them having fun and being with friends and being in love, but i also really love diving into emotions and a lot of my muses are complex enough that it leans into angst sometimes too, like hurt/comfort with an emphasis on comfort. i do have fun with really dynamic threads too, be it because there's a lot of snappy dialogue or because there's action or because i'm juggling more than one muse at a time etc. plots or memes. there's pros and cons to both. memes are great to kickstart things for me but i tend to really like the asks prompts that are more action-heavy than dialogue heavy, like "our muses are putting out a fire" as opposed to a quote from shakespeare that my muses are just too casual to ever say (although some of them are REALLY amazing quotes and do have their place!). i like to think i'm slowly getting better at plotting again (bizarrely i did not realize how much of a skill it had been for me until i hadn't done it for four years and then realized i didn't know how to do it anymore). long or short replies. here's the thing... i ramble. you all have figured that out by now probably. i sometimes accidentally make posts long. i do like to write and i LOVE to read long replies that have been so lovingly crafted for me. but my brain SUCKS and the longer a reply is, the more my brain gets psyched out in matching the length and then the longer it takes for me to reply. except then, when i go to actually reply, i wind up matching length like really easily, and i've waited five months to reply for nothing! i suck DFKSKFJDSF. best time to write. when i am supposed to be doing something else KDFHKDSFDSF. are you like your muse? i think there are aspects of me in all of my characters to some degree but i'm really only saying that because i can't pick one muse to talk about. characters who happen to be older siblings i've realized has become a bit of a staple of mine, especially when i can explore that "eldest daughter" idea with them, as an eldest child/daughter.
tagged by: @nvictive <3 bless you for giving me the opportunity to talk about myself again KSJNDFSDJNFDSF tagging: i'm so bad at tagging people so the person reading this KDSFKDSFDSFSF. if you're sitting there thinking oh shannon probably doesn't mean me, yes i do. do it. take it. tell me about yourself. tag me and make me read it.
#ooc.#i added some color only bc i wanted to give ppl the option to skip the walls of rambly text KDSFKJDSFKJDSFSDF#long post /#god jesus this really did get long i am....... sowwy#it actually got so long i went over the character limit I AM SO DSKFJDSKJFDKJSFKDSKFDF#shannon STOP talking about yourself challenge#i literally had to delete haLF THRE POST IM SCREAMING SKAFJHDSKFJDSKFHF i couldnt elaborate on ANYTHING!!!
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✦ OC Most Likely Tag ✦
Thanks for the tag, @the-golden-comet!
Rules: Answer with which of your OCs would be the most likely to do the statement, then give new statements for the next person.
Because I love to suffer/torture myself by making obscenely long posts, I'm doing more than just three questions! 😎
Questions from the-golden-comet! - Most likely to burn something while cooking - Most likely to stop a robbery if they see it taking place - Most likely to not tell people they’re sick until they really need the help Stealing from their post, from @paeliae-occasionally! - Most likely to arrive ridiculously early - Most likely to be in a relationship for less than a week - Most likely to secretly be really good at music, but just not tell anyone
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Most likely to burn something while cooking?
Crow from Sun and Shadow.
They're straight-up not allowed to cook because of how forgetful they are. There's been a number of times where they'll start something, walk away to get something else, and completely forget that they were in the middle of cooking--leaving the food to burn and/or catch fire.
They're actually capable of cooking and make good food when they're successful, but are much more likely to get distracted and forget what they're doing if it's anything that takes longer than 5 minutes. The only time they'll cook is when they have someone else to keep them accountable.
Or when they're preparing food in secret...
Most likely to stop a robbery if they see it taking place?
A hidden character of the Arcane Rifts, only appearing starting book 3 and becoming a main character starting book 4! His name is Dimitry, haha. (I was not kidding when I've said I have a ton of this series planned out even though I'm still super early in it--)
Dimitry is the biggest goody-two-shoes that ever goody-two-shoed. Also, he grew up in a crime-ridden town, became a police officer, and even rose to becoming police chief until he had to drop from the position to become a healer (magic) instead. So, long story short? Mans hates criminals. (Oh, buddy, you're in the wrong series...)
Otherwise, since y'all don't know of Dimitry and I likely won't be mentioning him much, I'd also like to mention Daleira from Sun and Shadow!
Daleira has mild reality warping powers as a faerie, and not only could she immediately fix the situation with less than a snap of her magical fingers, but she would! Unlike Dimitry, she's aware of the nuance in social structure and how sometimes people are forced into crime, but she's powerful enough that she can question the thief and release them if she thinks they shouldn't be held accountable!
Most likely to not tell people they’re sick until they really need the help?
This is a hard one since I have so many characters like this. 😎����
I'm going to give this one as a tie between Gene from the Arcane Rifts and Crow from SaS! (They show up again!!! Crow simps be having a field day)
Gene has been deeply traumatized and conditioned to not expect help from anyone else at a young age--and it was so successful that he still refuses to until deep into the book series. He hates opening up, admitting "weakness", and appearing vulnerable, so he just... doesn't. Or, at least, he tries his best not to. Unfortunately, he's not very emotive and had the whole "learned to hide his emotions from his abuser" thing, so he's very successful at masking it when he has problems.
Crow isn't too dissimilar from Gene in this regard! Despite their extremely cheerful demeanor, they're deeply traumatized from things that happened to them as a child (they allude to the fact that their detective father has a lot of criminal enemies--) and don't like people seeing their vulnerabilities, either. Being sick means being weaker, and that means you can't do your job as efficiently. Yeah, Crow doesn't admit to being sick, either.
Most likely to arrive ridiculously early?
Why so many ties??? 😭😭😭
This honor goes to Gene, Quinn the Seer, and the handful of characters who'd purposely show up obscenely early to a meeting spot to make sure there were no traps and survey the area for opportunities for an ambush etc (like Kieran Caron).
Gene shows up super early out of fear of missing a meeting, to be one of those "survey for traps and ambush" characters, and to give himself an opportunity to plan out how he wants to approach the meeting--including possibly ambushing the other person or talking them into a mental breakdown to make them more likely to do what he wants.
Quinn the Seer (son and avatar of the Existence of Fate) would show up, like, 100 years before the meeting on accident, forgetting where he is in the timeline and "showing up for class at high school as an adult" Seer Edition.
Most likely to be in a relationship for less than a week
Oh, boy. Finally getting to address the other MC of the Arcane Rifts.
TAZIN!!! there's a reason he got these songs picked out for him in the "what songs fit these characters?" tag...
Dude's an absolute wreck, has attachment issues, and would both sleep around and randomly "date" people for extremely brief periods of time before "breaking up" with them and running off...
(Y'know, when he's older. Not Early Series, babi Tazin.)
Most likely to secretly be really good at music, but just not tell anyone
Actually, this is halfway canon for Tazin?
He loves singing (and 100% would've tried making a band in middle/high school if he lived in our world), but doesn't share that fact with people. Understandably feels vulnerable about it, though it's in good part because he started off the "hobby" by singing his mom's lullabies and stories. The only characters who know this are Gene (who was supportive of it and actually got to hear him sing a good bit) and Alyona, his (actually) long-term girlfriend of book 2.
I've said this before, but so many of Tazin's problems would've been solved (or at least dramatically lessened) if he just got a guitar and found out about the rock genre.
And I'll say it again--
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This was fun! I actually really liked these questions, so I'm going to:
Your questions: - pick 3 of your favorites from the ones I just answered, and answer them yourself!
Tagging (with no pressure!): @honeybewrites @the-letterbox-archives @yourpenpaldee @darkandstormydolls @illarian-rambling
@wyked-ao3 @ath3alin @mysticstarlightduck @huewrite + open tags!
Divider from @cafekitsune
#the feychild tags#the arcane rifts#sun and shadow novel#gene the amnesiac#tazin the theater kid#crow the cursed#dimitry the paragon#quinn the seer#daleira fenastra#traumatized characters#villain coded#writeblr tag games#tumblr tag game#tag games#OC most likely tag#my ocs#my stories#writers on tumblr#authors on tumblr#authorblr#writeblr#writblr#writeblr community#writblr community#writing community#author community#writerscommunity#writers#writing#writers and readers
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🧡 𝗗𝗜𝗙𝗙𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗨𝗡𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗘, 𝗦𝗔𝗠𝗘 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 2 - AN ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE (AU)-THEMED OTOME CONTENT CREATION CHALLENGE
For the second time, @xxsycamore and I are bringing to you a week-long exploration of the trope Alternative Universe! (link to last year’s challenge here)
→ GENERAL RULES
Works of all forms are welcome! Fanarts, fanfics, headcanons, etc.
Limited to otome fandoms - mobile otome games such as: IkeSeries (Ikemen Vampire, Ikemen Prince, Ikemen Villains, Ikemen Sengoku, Ikemen Revolution, Ikemen Genjiden); Tears of Themis; Obey me!; Mr Love: Queen’s Choice; Light and Night; Voltage games; Mystic Messenger and others, as well as console otomes.
This challenge takes place between June 19th and June 25th, 2023. The deadline for posting your works is July 15th (until midnight, UTC+2).
Instead of making the masterlist after the deadline, @xxsycamore who is in charge of it will try to create the post in advance and update it regularly during the challenge. Don’t hesitate to contact us if your work was done within the deadline but wasn’t featured in the masterlist. Or, if you prefer not to be featured on the masterlist instead!
When posting your works, use the tag #different universe same love ccc - you can as well tag @xxsycamore and @queengiuliettafirstlady in your posts! It will help us find your work easier!
Posting to other sites is allowed - as long as you mention the challenge and its creators.
Reblogs are appreciated!
→ CONTENT RULES
This challenge features a list of 14 AU prompts, two for each day, plus 7 dialogue prompts which you can match to your liking, if you want to. You’re free to create a work based on whichever AU you like more for that day. You can also create works for both AU prompts, and you can also mix the two prompts into one work! Whatever suits your preferences :) You can create more than one work for the same prompt, too!
You can find the lists of prompts on the banner above, as well at the bottom of this post.
Under the cut, you will also find a short explanation of each AU prompt, just in case there is anything unclear about them.
Any additional rules are up to the content creators. You are free to choose the rating(make sure to mark your NSFW works accordingly, and if you’re minor, make sure not to interact with such!), and also the genre (the challenge’s main focus is romantic love, but it is not obligatory for your work to be of such genre), all characters and ships included are up to you (OCs, character x MC, character x character, etc.)
You’re free to take requests from your audience using these prompt lists, again please make sure to mention the challenge and its creators.
You’re absolutely free to post your works for this challenge after its deadline, July 15th - but please note that they won’t be featured in the masterlist!
The final and most important rule is to have fun and not pressure yourself about full completion of the challenge. Do only as many works as you wish! :)
Here is a free-to-use banner/header for the challenge!:
If you have any additional questions, we’ll be happy to help. There is no such thing as a stupid question, so don’t hesitate to get in contact with us! We wish you happy creating!
→ THE LISTS
Day 1 - June 19th- Bodyguard AU | Mafia AU
Day 2 - June 20th- Angels and Demons AU | Pirate/Mermaid AU
Day 3 - June 21st- Social Media AU |Coffee/Flower shop AU
Day 4 - June 22nd- Celebrity AU | Bookstore AU
Day 5 - June 23rd - Forbidden love AU | Soulmates AU
Day 6 - June 24th- Office AU | Circus/Magic AU
Day 7 - June 25th- FREE DAY (an AU of your choice!)
Dialogue prompts:
“Him? Are you kidding me? He’s not even my type!”
“We didn’t even exchange numbers! I’m such a fool.”
“We should have never met.”
“Ah, it’s you again! Do you come here often?”
“I’ll be waiting at our spot. Make sure no one sees you.”
“Promise me we will always have each other.”
“Maybe we’ll meet again someday.”
Under the cut you’ll find a short explanation of each AU:
Bodyguard AU - character A is appointed to protect character B
Mafia AU - an extension of Mobster AU, with a mafia setting - typically involves rivalry and enemies-to-lovers tropes
Angels and Demons AU - typically depicts the forbidden love between character A who is an angel and character B who is a demon. You can also write about Fallen angels/Ascended demons.
Pirate/Mermaid AU - an AU that features merfolk characters or pirates - or both!
Social Media AU - an AU where the characters meet on social media and begin their friendship/relationship online.
Coffee/Flower shop AU - typically resolves around a small business that character A either owns or works at, and their loyal customer, character B; but they can also be both customers, or coworkers.
Celebrity AU - placing your character(s) in a setting where they’re famous. Other characters could be their fans; working with them, meeting them by chance…
Bookstore AU - similar to Coffee/Flower shop AU.
Forbidden love AU - a setting where the characters are forbidden from being together for whatever reason.
Soulmates AU - a setting where everyone has One True Love and the ways of finding it varies depending on the creator. An example of a popular Soulmate AU is “Your soulmate’s name is written on you”.
Office AU - a setting where the characters work together in an office.
Circus/Magic AU - a setting where the characters either work in the circus or are magic users - the latter involves anything fantasy-related, basically.
FREE DAY - The last day of this challenge is for you to choose your own prompt! It can perfectly well overlap with an already existing prompt. Maybe your favorite Alternative Universe wasn’t in the list above? This is your chance to include your idea in the list :)
ONCE AGAIN, HAPPY CREATING! WE CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOUR CREATIONS 🧡
#writing challenge#prompt list#writing prompts#ikemen vampire#ikevamp#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikemen villains#ikevil#ikemen sengoku#ikesen#ikemen revolution#ikerev#ikemen genjiden#thears of themis#mystic messenger#mysme#tot#light and night#otome#ikemen#cybird#voltage inc
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@beril66 it's long so i'm making a whole post
first i gotta add this post because this is a shared verse with my spouse @echthr0s and i think understanding their part of it is both necessary and they also have a roster of sick ocs that i adore (Noah. oh my god Noah. PLEASE go ask about Noah)
Isadora Marie is the daughter of another oc of mine, Samantha Toren, and Vicar Max of The Outer Worlds. Sam is the daughter of Atom/Walter Padick/Randall Flagg/Nyarlathotep of the Cthulhu and Steven King multiverses. Hers is a very long story that I'll keep short- Sam ran away from home at 13, in some verses to her brother, Noah, in others she stayed on her own. Eventually she ends up in The Outer Worlds, shit happens, Izzy is born. Dear old dad likes to fuck around all over the multiverse, making fucked-up children and being a general nuisance. Sam made it her mission to counter him at every chance.
Izzy, like Sam, inherited a colossal amount of power from peepaw Nyarly, though Izzy lacks the reality-bending and omniscience her mom is capable of, she's still an absolute powerhouse in her own right. I haven't quite figured out if the Warhammer variation of Izzy was born in that universe or traveled there after taking on Sam's "ruin peepaw's day no matter what" mission, but either way Izzy's goal with the Warrant is to root out his influence and try to build a better Expanse. (I say she can't bend reality, but really, the line between what does and doesn't count is way too thin and Izzy just has to focus a LOT to do it and really doesn't like doing it unless circumstances are truly dire).
Wanda Maximoff is the really one of the better comparisons to Izzy's power levels, just Izzy has a violet/gold color scheme to her magic. Which really doesn't help in Warhammer considering what Warp breaches look like, but she's got it under tight control until Commorragh when her dad's temper rears it's head and she pulls the whole city into realspace cause they kept pissing her off, (again, is that dimensional magic or reality bending? *shrug emoji*). The dark city got box seats to Izzy taking the kid gloves off and really fucking shit up. Say hi to her...aunt? uncle? Say hi to her mother's sibling, Slaanesh, for her. She's gonna go try to make out with Nocturne now.
I'm still not sure how the party reacts to all this, Pasqal was the first to really feel it but he had a hunch she wasn't telling them everything, (who else sings to machine spirits and has it work? who else learns languages by hearing a few words? Or was it the pieces of Amarnat recognizing something like the Shard?). Idira and Cassia also had suspicions, but everyone else is blindsided by it. Here's a woman with straight up chaos magic, that should have killed everyone, should have caused so much ruin, but she's singing lullabies to the machine spirit and the ship's never functioned better. Everyone is safe during warp jumps.
What drew her to Pasqal was that he's hilarious and she thinks the stigmata is hot. Heinrix was entirely unplanned.
#izzy toren desoto#von valancius#i have my dad's birthday dinner now so feel free to ask anything else while i'm gone!
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