#we went to a concert not too long ago though and i think one of their final songs was toxic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kaliforniahigh · 4 months ago

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Request: "Matt Dierkes x wife reader smutty one shot where they get caught on the tour bus or other random places?" Thank you so much for the request!

Warnings: cursing and a steamy make out session but no actual smut (they get caught before the act)

WC: 1.6k (not proofread yet!)

Requests are closed for now.

You loved going on tour with Matt, specially since you worked together. You were a lighting engineer for the band and you met Matt when you started working for the band a couple of years back.

The attraction was instant between you and everyone could notice. The way he never got mad at you - quite the contrary, the boy always seemed to have an extra soft spot for you - and the way you always worried if he was well - tour could be pretty hectic and take a toll on your health - were a dead giveaway that something was blossoming between you.

Despite everyone rooting for you to get together, there were the people who warned you about working with your partner. They told you that it never worked, and that you would fight all the time.

But you always told them that if it ever came to it, you and Matt could separate your professional lives from your personal ones, because you were adults, after all.

Now, a couple of years later, you and Matt not only established a relationship, but you also decided to get married not too long ago. Most days it didn't even feel like working with your husband, because you just went about your routines as per usual.

It was rare that Matt got angry with anyone really, he was pretty chill overall and used to dealing with things going wrong, so you felt like nothing really affected him anymore.

Today, though, was one of those days where everything seemed to be going wrong. First, the tour bus broke down on the road because of the cold, which made you guys late for the concert. Then, some of the sound equipment decided not to work and the panels were off and no one could figure out how to get those damn things working.

You could hear the fans outside waiting to come in and the stress of being late already and not having things ready were weighing on his shoulders. You could hear him in the distance him talking on the phone with the venue manager. Something about how the hell was he not here to help with the technical difficulties that most likely were being caused by his shitty venue.

You left him to it, and since your lighting equipment was already set up - thank god this one thing worked out tonight - you went to help the other guys. Everything seemed to plugged in in the right places and still, nothing was working. Even Noah, Jolly and the Nicks were helping at this point.

"Guys", Matt approached you all with a sigh. "The venue manager told me everything was working accordingly just a couple of days go, which is obviously bullshit", he rubbed his forehead, a clear sign of stress. You wanted to smooth out the creases yourself, but refrained from it.

"How are we gonna perform without our equipment?", Jolly asked, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"That's the thing, I don't think we will", Matt answered. Every band's fear was becoming a reality right before your eyes.

"Are we gonna have to cancel?", Noah voiced what everyone was thinking. Matt only nodded. "What about the fans waiting outside?"

"I'm really sorry, this is really not what I wanted to do, trust me. We could try and find another venue, but we gotta be in another city tomorrow. We might have to reimburse the people who paid for tickets for today", you could tell he was disappointed in having to do this. Matt was a problem solver kind of person, and having to deal with a problem he couldn't solve was killing him.

After a little more debate, everyone agreed that canceling was the best thing to do due to the circumstances. Noah and the guys went back to the green room talking about how they're gonna sue the venue manager.

"I'm gonna go out there and tell those people that the band they love is not performing tonight. You guys can start loading the things back in the bus", he started to turn around, but you went after him.

"Hey", you called out and he looked at you. "I'll go with you. You don't have to do this alone", you took your hand in his.

"You don't have to do this, baby. I'm used to it, it's part of the job anyways", he reassured you, rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand.

"I know that you can handle yourself. But I wanna go with regardless", he only nodded, knowing it was useless arguing with you, and you followed him outside.

The annoucement was met with complaints, angry remarks and a few crying faces. Matt knew this wasn't directed at him, but it broke his heart regardless. All these people with the hopes of having an unforgettable night would have to go back to their homes without watching Bad Omens perform.

He said sorry one more time and rushed back inside the venue. You said sorry yourself and followed him. You looked around you and saw that your lighting equipment was already being loaded back in the boxes and decided to check were Matt headed to.

You asked around and a few people told you they saw him going in the direction of the bathrooms. You made your way down the hall and knocked on the men's restoroom door, hearing him answer with a "yeah" on the other side of the door. He was probably wondering who the hell was bothering him when he was in the bathroom.

"You alone in there?" you asked him. Recognizing it was you, he opened the door and you made your way inside, closing it again behind you.

"You just ran off, I got worried about you", you told him as you took his face in your hands.

"I got so angry when I saw all those people out there, just waiting", he huffed in frustration.

"I know, baby. But this isn't your fault, and it probably won't be the last time you'll have to cancel", you tried to reason with him.

"I know, I'm just so fucking mad at that fucking venue manager who told me 'everything is working perfectly, are you sure it's not your equipment that's low quality?'", he used air quotes to tell you what the venue manager has the nerve to tell him. "He obviously ripped us off because he wasn't even here, he knows his venue is fucking shit", he spat, in anger. You waited a few seconds to say anything, just in case he needed to vent some more. But he just took a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

"I'm sorry, you don't deserve to hear all this", he apologized, resting his hands on your hips. You let a little smile grace your lips. You knew how to make him feel better.

"It's kind of hot when you get all angry like this", you said with a low voice and a hint of playfulness. He finally cracked and smirked a little at your remark.

"Yeah? You like it, babe?", you nodded and pressed yourself closer to him. "You know, you're my silver lining in all of this, right?", he said, lips inches away from yours, eyes travelling between your eyes and lips.

"I think I don't. Will need you to show me", you teased him and in a few seconds, his lips crashed on yours, pushing you backwards with the force, your back hitting the marble countertop behind you.

The kiss was fervent, an indicator of his mood and how this bathroom rendezvous was gonna go. You both moaned into the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair as he hoisted you up on the counter.

His hands traveled up your torso under your shirt and you lifted your arms for him to take it off, you skin prickling with goosebumps from the cold air.

His mouth immediatly moved to kiss your shoulders and down the valley of your brests.

"Fuck, you're everything I need right now", he hummed into your skin and you only moaned in acknowledgment.

"Take your shirt off, please", you said, voice sounding a little breathless, and he moved away from your body to peel off the layer of clothing.

"C'mere", he helped you down from the counter and turned you around, pushing your head down and making you bend your back, ass up in the air.

He kissed your spine and ran his hand over the fat of your ass, delivering a spank that made you yelp in surprise. His clothed crotch was pressed into you, and you could feel how hard he was under his pants.

He was about to yank your pants down your legs when the door swung open, both of you whipping your heads to the side, only to meet the shocked expression on Ruffilo's face.

You were still bend over the counter when you heard Matt tell him to 'get the fuck out', and Nick muttered a few apologies before closing the door behind him.

You looked at Matt through the mirror in front of you and you both started to giggle at the situation. Eventually, you stood up straight and turned around to face him. It was like Nick's entrance popped your little bubble entirely.

"Probably not the best idea to fuck in the bathroom, huh?" you asked in a teasing tone.

"That's you pushing me to make bad decisions", he smiled and gave you a peck on the lips. "As much as I loved our little almost escapade, we should probably get back out there", he stated, in a little disappointed tone.

You agreed with him and you both made your way out of the bathroom.

"We'll stay at a hotel room in the next city and then I'll make sure to bend you over the counter and fuck you good", he whispered in your ear, making you stop in your tracks, mouth agape.

He kept walking and laughed at the state he just left you.

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lavendernlilac · 4 months ago

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thinking too hard about bodyguard au again so we ramble :3 continuation of this post because these thoughts just won't stop coming

- even though hotguy is griande’s personal bodyguard, the head guy of security for Anything related to griande is skizz. he’s like grian’s overprotective weird uncle. hurt her and you’ll have one hell of an angry skizz coming for you

- when hotguy was first hired, skizz 100% gave him the “I don’t care if you’re some hotshot hero, if you try anything weird with her I’ll end you” talk (because they’ve probably one or two guys they hired for security who got… weird with grian)

- not that skizz worries for long though, hotguy proves that griande’s safety is the only thing that matters to him. and the two of them have been best buds since

- in his civilian life, scar is a model and pretty well known. I think it’d be funny (and really sweet) if grian had a lil crush on him. but they don’t know each other personally. just… admiration from afar

- that being said, scar has a massive crush on griande. he has so much respect for her. he’s got nearly every album she’s released and went to a concert of hers three years ago. so when he was approached as hotguy to be her bodyguard? there was no way he’d say no

- skizz was the one who suggested it btw

- have I mentioned that mumbo is a massive hotguy fanboy? and even after working with hotguy for like a year and a half, he still gets starry eyed and nervous? (also he and iskall are dating)

- grian will sometimes bring mumbo merch and he’s like “I can’t believe you got this!” meanwhile she’s secretly dating the guy who makes the merch

- scar uses hotguy as an outlet to be himself. he’s free to be as silly or dorky as he wants—it’s his escape from the daily life of scar goodtimes, a chance to be more of himself than he ever could

- yet interestingly, hotguy was never meant to exist. see, it started with a car accident. a pretty bad one—to the point scar was at death’s door. he was very close to dying when at the last second, a certain doc monster stepped in to save him. doc genuinely just wanted to save scar’s life. he never meant to create a superhero in his desperate attempt to fulfill his doctor’s oath. but something happened, some kind of mix up. scar was healed within a matter of days, as if the accident had never occurred. and scar was… changed. irreversibly

- (not even doc could figure out what happened, when scar stormed into his office. he couldn’t reverse it, either. he offered to run some tests, to help him figure out what happened. but scar vehemently denied any more tests. no more tests. he can’t go through that again, please don’t make him do it again he can’t he can’t he can’t he—)

- (…all doc could do was offer to help scar control his new abilities)

- so hotguy was accidentally born! and it was a freedom scar never knew he needed. sure, both the powers and the impact on his modeling career are permanent marks of his near death but. in a strange way, he’s thankful for it. for the opportunity it gives him

- (even if he can’t go to hospitals any more. lab coats shorten his breath. he panics at the sight of a needle.)

- (and sure, maybe he ends up put on a whole separate pedestal, objectified in a new way, and no one sees him for who he is but. it’s a freedom.)

- and for grian… ariana griande is a way to be the person she wants herself to be. griande is confident and sassy, not a single hint of doubt to be seen. while grian moon is snarky, and rough around the edges, full of self doubt. griande is a mask for grian to pretend to be who she wishes she was. griande is a form of escape she needs. but she’s also a shield

- before grian first began in the music industry, she was doing open mic nights at different establishments. until one night, she’s approached by a producer who sees a lot of promise in her, and would love to sign her on. cue grian calling mumbo and excitedly telling him she’s found her big break. only, to mumbo, it sounds… suspicious. he tells her to be careful, but grian swears it’ll be fine and he’s just overly cautious

- things with her new producer are great! she’s introduced to a bunch of people, given a tour of her new workplace and she’s eager to get started. and well, she’s a bit disappointed that she’s only allowed to record songs that other people have written, but she’s sure that’s just because she’s new! so grian does as told, encouraged and praised by her producer

- slowly that praise is replaced more and more by little nitpicks but it’s fine. she’s inexperienced. her producer is just trying to help her. (“your tone is way off.” “you’re not holding your air long enough.” “you’re in the wrong key.” “you can hear the other harmonies, can’t you? match them.” “you’re straining.” “you sound bad. re-record it.” “your clothes are hideous.” “some make up would do you good.” “your hair is too long, cut it.” “I don’t remember your voice being so bad, grian.” “you’re never going to make it big.” “signing you on was a mistake.”)

- ( she’s not good enough. she’s not good enough. she’s not good enough. she’s not good enough. she’s not good enough. )

- she’s caught writing a song of her own. it’s actually pretty good, her producer is impressed. he’ll think about recording it

- grian isn’t allowed to sing it. she’s not even credited for it.

- this goes on for months. she’s overworked, verbally abused, and beaten down. she’s hardly seen mumbo or any of their friends. it’s not until mumbo gets fed up and goes to see her himself for answers that grian finally cracks. she tells mumbo everything, that he was right. she has no chance at her dreams now, she’s not good enough for any of it. and well, mumbo wouldn’t be a very good friend if he let grian continue to believe that

- he gets impulse’s help in getting grian free of that company, and offers to help her get back on her feet, start her own brand. and thus, mumbo and impulse become her mangers

- grian creates griande to protect herself. griande is what the industry wants, who people expect her to be (as for grian… she doesn’t know who grian is anymore). she grows more comfortable as griande and she gains popularity quite quickly. she loves it

- when it comes time for scar to meet grian and not griande… she doesn’t know who to be. she doesn’t know what scar expects from her, or who he wants her to be for him (she just wants to be good enough for him). it makes her anxious. uncertain. but all scar wants is for grian to be herself. to be comfortable and happy and safe

#bodyguard au #scarian #scariande #hermitshipping #I’m laying on the ground #I need to eat a brick I’m so insane over these two #RAHHHHHHH #please be insane about them with me #please

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thedeviljudges · 3 months ago

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Hi Noel. We used to be mutuales back in the good old days. I hope you are taking care of yourself.

I am having a fucking horrible time. I am devastated. Even though I moved on from fandom so long ago, I always cared about Liam and I always will.

I think one of the least surprising things for me and I guess for you as well is the reaction so many people are having. They act as if their hatred for him is new and based on recent events but we know that shit runs deep and is old. I’m not even surprised by their hypocrisy because they are all about holding people accountable for their mistakes as they weren’t the biggest fucking bullies to him every single day since day one, why aren’t they holding themselves accountable for being fucking horrible people and being part of the problem? Many of us would defend him and point all of this out too and we knew back then how much he was hated on for literally existing within the band. He couldn’t post selfies because they would accuse him wanting attention and he would get bullied. He couldn’t tweet any simple and insignificant thing because they would hate on him. They were constantly body shaming him. They hated when he would show off his talent in concerts. He literally couldn’t have a fucking break because his existence alone was enough to fueled their hatred towards him. The way they had a fucking field day bullying him and body shaming him when they filmed you & I video. It was constant. It doesn’t matter and it didn’t matter what he did because they simply just hated him and would let him know. Not only were they a huge component of the system that messed him up over the years, not only did they bullied him back then, but now too even in the wake of his death. I never understood it back then and I don’t understand it now, how they could do all of that and continue to do so while demanding accountability and who knows what else as if they are deserving of anything from him or his loved ones when they were fucking horrible to people since the very first day of 1D.

Anyway, to anyone who is hurting and is grieving him, do so, and do so without holding back, do so because no one has the right to police your feelings, and fuck anyone who makes you feel bad for grieving Liam.

hi, babe. i hope you've been well all this time. 🥺

tbh it's hard to add anything because i agree completely. liam was always the one that went through the worst comments (aside from the racism zayn faced) and treatment within the band. people were always so cruel to him for no reason. and no matter what he did, the fandom always found fault with it. it makes me especially sick to see how twitter was relentless with their bullying the week before all of this happened. it was nonstop and then now to see them all pivot and upset... hypocrites.

and all i keep thinking about is how unfair it was because if any of the boys did what he did (and have done), everyone's been so forgiving. but not for liam.

liam loved one direction with his whole heart. he kept the band alive during their activities and long after by mere mention and discussion and knew how special it was for fans and himself. he was the reason i got into one direction, which i think is why it's also hitting me so hard. he's the first video i saw walking the streets of the us in 2012, who stopped for a few fans. he was so kind and loving, and it's incredible how many people in the industry have commented how lovely he truly was.

i feel a lot of things still, so it's really difficult to put it all into words in a single post. but liam was so talented and the fact that fandom never recognized the brilliance of it will forever hang over one direction now.

i truly hope people take this as a lesson to be kind; everyone preaches about it so much - and you're right. they want accountability but can't even recognize that their own actions warrant accountability, too. the callousness that has infected the internet and fandoms will truly be its downfall. there are so many of us who talk about how it's not the same, and it will never be the same again if we don't start having compassion and love even in the face of difficulty and misconduct.

#x #anonymous #answered #liam payne

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gardenwalrus · 2 months ago

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The Beatles & Noël Coward

The songwriting ambitions of Wooler and the Lennon-McCartney team provided a rich topic of conversation. "I used to discuss this chiefly with Paul," said Wooler. "I did discuss songs with John, but he wasn't interested in my kind of songs. Whereas Paul McCartney was interested in what I had to say about songs, and Noël Coward, for instance. I talked to him about Noël Coward and how clever and how witty he was. And this is what I miss about rock'n'roll songs, the absence of wit. There's so very few of them have any wit about them. Which is very sad. They're all rather long-suffering, these songs. And all this pall rather appalled me. 'When I'm Sixty-Four' is really, I think, the only witty Beatles song, which is essentially a McCartney number. When I used to announce Paul at the Cavern, occasionally I'd say, 'Now Paul's going to sing a song of his own he's written; he's the Noël Coward of rock'n'roll!' I think he liked that appellation, that description."

- Gillian G. Gaar, 'I AM THE DJ: AN INTERVIEW WITH THE CAVERN'S BOB WOOLER', Goldmine (8 November 1996)

John and Paul meet Noël Coward at Alma Cogan's party at her London apartment, 1-3 June 1964.*

[Coward] found them 'pleasant young men, quite well behaved and with an amusing way of speaking'. [...] Though [Coward's] background was not so very different from the Beatles' - his father was an impoverished piano salesman - he swiftly assimilated into high society, readily adopting the mannerisms and accents of the English upper classes. Small wonder, then, that the current rise of working-class culture held so little appeal for him. [...] Coward made the mistake of relaying his encounter with John and Paul, in derogatory terms, to David Lewin of the Daily Mail. It never occurred to him that Lewin would quote him in print complaining that the Beatles were 'totally devoid of talent. There is a great deal of noise. In my day, the young were taught to be seen but not heard - which is no bad thing.'

- Craig Brown, One Two Three Four: The Beatles in Time (2020)

(*Craig Brown dates this meeting as 6 June, however the Beatles - minus Ringo - were in Amsterdam on this date, and the party was in London. Lewin's article is published on Friday 5 June 1964 and refers to Coward's 'last day' of his visit to Britain 'this week' - therefore more likely 1-3 June.)

A year later, Coward sees the Beatles in concert at the Teatro Adriano in Rome, 27 June 1965, and afterwards goes to meet them at their hotel.

PAUL: Brian came and said, 'Noel Coward would like to meet you boys.' We all said, 'Oh, fucking hell, no! No, no, no. I'm going to bed.' Nobody was really keen, we were better just casually interacting with people. Once you actually had to meet them, it became a bit official and our black humour would kick in and we'd try and counteract the fact that four of us were going to have to line up to meet the great man, so piss-takes would come fairly readily. No one was going to go, and Brian said, 'You can't, you just can't!' So I went down and met him. But then he said some not too pleasant things about us after that, so fuck him anyway.

- Paul in Barry Miles, Many Years From Now (1997)

...I was told that the Beatles refused to see me because that ass David Lewin had quoted me saying unflattering things about them months ago. I thought this graceless in the extreme, but decided to play it with firmness and dignity. I asked Wendy [Hanson, the Beatles' publicist] to go and fetch one of them and she finally reappeared with Paul McCartney and I explained gently but firmly that one did not pay much attention to the statements of newspaper reporters. The poor boy was quite amiable and I sent messages of congratulation to his colleagues, although the message I would have liked to send them was that they were bad-mannered little shits.

- Noël Coward's diary entry for 4 July 1965, referring to 27 June. (x)

#describing someone as the 'noël coward of rock'n'roll' is definitely... an interesting description bob #there's a ringo quote the anthology about hating coward but i cant remember where #paul mccartney #john lennon #the beatles

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ateez-himari · 5 months ago

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[240901] MAKNAES REUNITE

[NEW MESSAGES FROMM HIMARI]

[PM 10:49] The maknaes are maknae-ing harder than any maknae has ever maknae-d before

[PM 10:50] ㅎㅎ I might possibly be on social media more than you guys think, but the caption was both of our ideas to be fair. It's maknae telepathy

[PM 10:50] No we rode on the same one (please help me), I have a racing circuit license, a driver's license but I don't have a motorcycle license yet. We've been really busy lately so I'll get it when I have time

[PM 10:51] Ah, we're ahead of you! Jungkook oppa already posted the ta ta ta challenge on his account, we knew you guys would want us to do it ㅎㅎㅎ I can't believe he's starting trends while doing his service...

[PM 10:52] Oh, Tiny! It's his birthday today, he turned 27...he's getting very close to being 30 already yet he acts the same age as me. It's a shared braincell between maknaes I think

[PM 10:52] It's hard to keep track of but it's been about 11 years now, maybe a little more since we met before their debut. Since I'm still 22 I've known him half of my life

[PM 10:52] I didn't know he used one of his rest days, he just called me in the morning after my boyfriend left for the studio and asked if I was busy. It was fun, we went to eat barbeque after the bike ride

[PM 10:53] Oh I remember that, people were speculating for so long ㅎㅎI solved the mystery now, as you can see the extra helmet in his house was mine. I think the other members use it sometimes too so it's shared property

[PM 10:53] Some protective gear he bought for me is there too, I think some army were talking about it after a live and I felt kind of bad because they thought it was a girlfriend...

[PM 10:54] Jimin oppa told you that we cried when he started his service ? Wow, what a tattler, but it's true. I guess it was just really strange, I mean we grew up together in a sense so leaving each other for so long was heavy

[PM 10:54] Ahh no you can't talk to him, we said goodbye about two hours ago so I'm back home now. Mingi asked if I wanted to do a live later so you might talk to us!

[PM 10:54] If you guys are lucky he'll turn on the camera this time ㅎㅎ I really want to give you a tour of the airbnb at some point too, since it's a hanok (a traditional house) it looks really nice, like we're back in time almost

[PM 10:55] Hyunjin oppa already posted the pictures ? It's true, we went to see Stray Kids yesterday and it was such an amazing concert ! We met a few staytinys there, then had dinner with some of the members

[PM 10:55] No, I've actually known Bangchan oppa longer since we spent some time together before I left for KQ. We slept in the same room for a bit since neither of us were in the lineup for any group so there was no set dorm

[PM 10:56] How can you do this to me ?! There's no way I can pick a favorite solo, I really hope that they release them soon though...I'll put in a good word to JYP for you guys ;p

[PM 10:57] Don't worry I have plans with other members later on! But first we're going to go see my family in a few days, mom's been very adamant on 'setting my boyfriend straight just in case' ㅎㅎ I missed them a lot

[PM 10:57] Haneul's been asking me to come non-stop every time my brother calls to check up on me so I'm sure she'll be happy too. The members and I got so many gifts while we were on tour, Seonghwa oppa even got her some baby Lego

[PM 10:57] Oh, no, not Sannie oppa's older sister ! Haneul is my niece, Hanzo nii-chan's daughter, my brother wanted to continue the legacy of 'H' names to honor our parents

[PM 10:58] Ahh Mingi's out of the shower so I have to go now, we're gonna go on a walk (really romantic right ??) ♡ Love you so much, kisses!

Translated from Korean by Google

#ateez au #ateez imagines #ateez 9th member #ateez extra member #ateez female member #kpop oc #HimaFromm♡#HimaSocial♡

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magicshopaholic · 11 months ago

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Moving On (Namjoon x OC)

Summary: BTS performs in Amsterdam and Namjoon invites you to the afterparty.

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

Genre: Angst, smut

Word count: 8.2K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, angst, sex, nudity, making out, fingering, cumming, arguing,

A/N: Takes place a little over a month after Final Destination.

Tagging: @bbl32, @quarter-life-crisis2, @margopinkerton, @faearchives, @whoisbts, @purpleseoul7, @sumzysworld, @kflixnet (if you want to be added to the taglist, lmk)

Listen to: "where does the good go" by tegan and sara

namjoon masterlist | main masterlist

Joon [13:45] Did you get the email from Big Hit?

Kaya [13:50] Yes

Joon [13:51] The number at the end is their London office. They’ve been briefed already and have additional security available for all European locations.

Kaya [13:54] Okay

There’s a break in the chat here. Kaya stares at the time stamp, trying to picture him scrambling to find something else to say.

Joon [14:15] The company managed to track down the account that uploaded the video. Account has been taken down and they’ve sued for invasion of privacy.

Kaya [14:20] Okay

Joon [14:22] They’ve also offered to add damages to the suit, in case we want that. Do you?

Kaya [14:25] Not really

Joon [14:26] Okay then

Another break. Kaya scans the time stamps again, even though she’s memorised it by now. She remembers the three dots indicating him typing, seeing them appear and disappear over and over again.

Joon [14:40] How are you?

Kaya [14:45] Fine

Joon [14:46] How‘s work?

Kaya [14:48] Fine

Joon [14:50] Kaya I’m trying

Kaya [14:51] Class starting, got to go

He hadn’t responded and she hadn’t expected him to. Four days post break-up hadn’t been nearly long enough for her to let go of her anger but now, four weeks in, it’s only been replaced with an equal amount of sadness and longing.

Every conversation has been exactly this terse and abrupt, the last one being a week ago. It had appeared when she’d been teaching an elective class and it had taken every ounce of her will to not check it until the class ended. As it turned out, she couldn’t even think of a decent response to it.

“How can he possibly think of asking me this?” Kaya mutters, earphones in as she walks home. It’s dusk, a gorgeous time of the day, but she holds no appreciation for it right now.

“Wouldn’t it be worse if he didn’t ask?” Dilara asks reasonably. She’s in her car by the sound of it, a low hum audible of whichever fancy car of hers she’s decided to take out today.

Kaya swallows, pondering this. It might be, but it doesn’t address the problem she’s too embarrassed to voice out loud: it should be harder for him to ask. The thought that he might not be taking this break-up as hard as she is kills something inside of her, as if she’d misunderstood everything in the last three years.

Her strategy to save herself from hearing the truth had been to distance herself from everyone, including Yoongi, who had texted her out of the blue one day to ask her if she was okay (she hadn’t responded); Seokjin, who seemed to skirt the topic altogether and sounded as though he was speaking to someone very sick; and especially Dilara, who Kaya knew would be the only one with the capacity to ask insightful questions that she herself was too afraid to.

“It’s just… strange,” is all she can manage. “He hopped on a flight, shot a few emails, came over and broke up with me and then went right back to his schedule, all in one day. And now he's inviting me to a party?"

“After-party, so it won’t be, like… crazy,” Dilara clarifies. “And the concert before it.”

“I’m definitely not going to his concert.”

“Of course not,” she agrees breezily. “I wouldn’t expect you to. But the party… I mean, it’s a good thing, isn’t it? He doesn’t want you to be strangers.”

Kaya slows down as she approaches the river. She’s taken the long route home today - anything to prolong the commute before another night in her tainted apartment with memories on every surface.

“I don’t know if I want to see him.” I don’t know if I can. “He wants to see me, though, apparently,” she states after a moment.

Dilara doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. “I mean -“ She begins before pausing, then trying again. “I’m sure it’s going to be torture for him to see you. But even that’s better than not seeing you.”

Kaya doesn’t even realise she’d been holding her breath; she exhales as slowly as possible so as to not make a sound, both at Dilara’s words as well as her answering the unasked question.

She doesn’t respond immediately, though. Now that they’re down this route of addressing concerns she’s been harbouring in her heart for weeks, Kaya feels the rest of them on the verge of tumbling out of her mouth.

"You've seen him a bit these last couple of months,” she ventures, lowering her voice and leaning backwards against the railing overlooking the river. “Does it seem like he misses me at all?"

Dilara hums, a little too knowingly for Kaya’s liking. “Of course, he does. He’s not the most expressive when it comes to his feelings but aside from Tae last year, I don't think I've met a more miserable person."

Kaya waits for the swell of happiness or relief at this news, but all it brings with it is a new wave of anger and frustration.

“Thanks.”

"Look, speaking from experience, it's not easy seeing your ex after a difficult break-up,” says Dilara, sighing. “But sometimes you don't realise just how much you needed to see them until you see them, even if it's just to gain some closure."

Closure. It sounds… final. Kaya can’t picture it, being virtual strangers eventually, just bits of each other’s past. Ex-boyfriend, girl of his dreams, the one that got away. She hates all those words because they just don’t apply, not really. They can’t.

She closes her eyes and presses the heel of her palms into them to intercept the wetness forming, not caring that Dilara is still on the other end of the line. She and Namjoon had stood right here, years ago, living in the bliss of a new couple in fresh love. He’d brought her a bunch of tiny yellow flowers from the park, part-cheesy and part-genuine, eyes twinkling and dimples soft.

Kaya squeezes her eyes shut at the memory, terrified at how the edges of it are already blurring.

“I don’t think I’ll go,” she murmurs, opening her eyes to stare at the ground. “I can’t.”

“Are you sure?” Dilara sounds slightly surprised.

“Yeah. Two days from now is… it’s too soon. I’ll either cry or yell or… I don’t know. It’s too hard.”

“Oh.” She’s quiet for a few seconds. “Okay. If you’re sure. Let me know if you want to get together on Sunday,” she adds. “Brunch or something.”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

—

The next day, Kaya is in the library again, grading papers and wishing she could go back to being a grad student who’s biggest problem was a pop quiz. She’s deliberately chosen a table at the back, away from where the students generally sit, which is why she looks up in surprise when someone comes to her table.

“H-hi, Kaya.” The student waves rests one hand on the back of an empty hair and waves hesitantly with the other.

“Um… hi.” Kaya tries not to frown too conspicuously, for she’s sure she knows this girl.

Svetlana. Savannah.

“Elena, right?”

“Yeah,” she answers with a nervous smile. “Um… are you busy?”

Kaya glances at the stacks of papers, books and laptop on the table. “Kind of, yeah.”

“Okay. Well… I just wanted to say hi.”

Kaya nods awkwardly and forces a small smile on her face. “Hi.”

Elena nods, tucking her hair behind her ears. She looks like she’s about to leave but at the last moment, sits down at the table. Kaya feels her smile fade for she really, really wants to be alone right now.

“How - how are things going?” She sounds nervous - extremely so. She seems to be fidgeting slightly and constantly touching her hair.

“Great,” says Kaya shortly, going back to her paper and hoping she’ll take the hint. “You?”

“Not bad, overall. I guess. Classes are hard and mid-terms are coming up as well…” Elena trails off. “Any plans for the weekend?”

Trying not to sigh, Kaya shakes her head. “Not really. You?”

“Well… I’m going to a concert tomorrow,” she answers hurriedly, and it’s clear that she’s been waiting to divulge this information, oblivious to how Kaya’s heart stops. “It should be fun. Do - do you listen to BTS?”

An unexpected notification from this morning floats into her kind. BTS continues their Europe leg by arriving in Amsterdam, ready to kick off the summer in style!

“No,” she answers truthfully.

“Oh.” Elena is quiet for a moment. “They’re really… good.”

There’s some awkward silence during which Kaya deliberately writes comments on the paper she’s grading, scratching the pen on the paper and wishing Elena would leave.

“It’ll be good to get out of campus. The people here are kind of intimidating. The parties are pretty wild, too,” she murmurs after a moment, sounding uncomfortable.

Kaya nods absently, uncharacteristically satisfied with the knowledge that she might be intimidating this unwanted guest. “Maybe you’re going to the wrong parties,” she offers.

Elena lets out a nervous laugh again. “Maybe. I never see you at them, though. There’s one, tonight, in the common room. Maybe you could come,” she suggests lightly. “Bring a friend or - or your boyfriend.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she answers flatly, not looking up.

“You - oh.” There’s a note of surprise in her voice. “Oh,” she repeats, this time seemingly to herself. “Are you sure?” she blurts out.

Kaya’s eyes snap up to glare at her. “Pretty sure.”

Elena’s eyes widen. “Oh, of - of course,” she stutters. “Sorry, that - that was a stupid question. Sorry.” She swallows and looks at her lap.

Kaya closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, immediately feeling guilty for snapping at an innocent bystander in this situation. “Elena, I… I really need to get these papers done,” she tells her, her voice one of forced calm. “So…”

The blonde finally seems to understand and awkwardly stands up. “Okay. Um, see you around,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear again.

Kaya nods as she leaves, Namjoon’s invitation swimming in her mind tantalisingly. She can’t ignore it anymore, the fact that they’re in the same city, her city. If she’s not wrong, he’ll do the concert tomorrow night, the group will probably stay the night and depart by Sunday afternoon or evening and she will probably never see him again.

She attempts to continue grading the paper she was working on when Elena interrupted, but when she finds herself reading the same stupid sentence for the fourth time without retaining anything, she begins packing up, ready to head home.

—

Joon [18:42] Hope to see you there tonight

Kaya, with a loss as to how to respond to this, simply did not. She can’t imagine he would be texting her during his concert, but she also knows he has before, if the situation was urgent enough to demand it.

She straightens the black dress against her hips and tilts her head at her reflection. It’s a simple dress, plain black, form-fitting and reaching below her knees, but it’s quite possibly the most gorgeous, sexiest dress she owns.

If she and Namjoon were together, she would have worn it tonight with no hesitation because it would have driven him insane. After weeks of being apart, seeing her in this dress would have rendered him incapable of staying in work mode without dirty texts, flirty touches and eyes from across the room undressing her. Even now, with a bare face, her hair tied into a loose bun and no footwear, the dress is a game-changer.

She gives herself a few moments to imagine this paradise, one that might have come true tonight had she never told him about the break-in. Then, she silently unzips the dress and climbs out of the black fabric pooled around her feet. Tucking it back into her closet, she looks for something else.

Dilara [18:50] In case you change your mind, sharing the location here [Location]

Dilara’s text had come minutes after Namjoon’s, and Kaya has to imagine it was a genuine coincidence. Although she’d replied to neither, it was the second text that caused her to change her mind - that, and the lingering fear that if she didn’t go today, she didn’t know how either of them would be able to maneuver a situation to see each other again.

The concert should end in a little over an hour. Her phone pings again and she groans, for she doesn’t think she can take any more of their unsubtle attempts at convincing her to go tonight. It’s not Namjoon or Dilara, though, but Adam Fischer, her thirty-something thesis advisor, asking if she wants to discuss the coming week’s class schedule tonight.

Kaya shakes her head as she types out a reply (Sorry, I can’t tonight. Will set up a meeting for first thing Monday if that’s okay?), a little rueful. Namjoon heavily disliked Adam, despite having no concrete reason for doing so. He’d always suspected Adam of having feelings for her, even though Adam hadn’t said or done anything to make her think he might. Part of her wonders if she could somehow ditch the party for this meeting and still make sure that the news travelled to Namjoon through the grapevine (Dilara), and if that would still piss him off even now.

She immediately cringes at the pettiness of it, however, sending her reply to Adam and heading into the shower.

The party is at the rooftop restaurant of the hotel next to the concert venue, and presumably where BTS is staying while in Amsterdam. It isn’t as crowded as she was anticipating, although the music is fairly loud. It looks more like a fancy houseparty, and even a few seconds in, Kaya can spot a handful of vaguely famous people in attendance. She looks around for a familiar face, preferably Dilara or Yoongi or one of the younger boys, wishing she’d called ahead and trying not to think about the fact that in spite of not RSVP-ing, her name was on the guest list.

She takes another hesitant step in and audibly sighs when she spots Taehyung, who, for reasons best known to himself, has accessorised his outfit with an ascot. He seems to be in an animated conversation with Jungkook, while standing in between them and facing ahead, with loose curls tumbling down her shoulders and looking slightly bored, is…

“Kaya!”

Dilara’s mouth forms her name over the music as she brushes past her boyfriend and his friend and hurries towards Kaya, looking both happy and relieved to see her. “You look hot!” she exclaims when she reaches her.

“Oh -” Kaya looks down self-consciously; she’d settled for a straight strapless top and jeans, unable to justify dressing sexier without seeming like she was trying too hard for her ex-boyfriend. “Thanks. And you look…” She frowns slightly at Dilara’s mini-dress and go-go boots, with a slightly out-of-place gold ring hanging around her neck. “... like Daphne Blake.”

Dilara’s face visibly falls. “I look like a cartoon character?” she asks, wrinkling her nose.

“Well, a very pretty cartoon character,” she adds quickly. “Especially with the headband. But… why?”

She rolls her eyes. “Taehyung picked it - but I’m sure it’s not because of Daphne Blake.” Spotting Kaya’s confused expression, she shrugs sheepishly. “We got into an argument yesterday about who has better taste, so we decided to go shopping at The Nine Streets and pick each other’s outfits for tonight.”

Kaya raises her eyebrows, something seemingly clicking into place. “So the ascot is your doing?”

“M-hm.” She nods in satisfaction before her eyes widen. “Oh, hey! An ascot - like Fred!” She lets out a low whistle at this realisation and laughs, while Kaya nods knowingly, feeling the urge to smile for the first time in what feels like weeks. “Not planned but zero regrets. I wonder if Tae knows that - oh.”

Kaya cuts her off mid-sentence with a hug, suddenly immensely grateful for Dilara. She can’t remember the last time she’d let anyone into her life this much with the exception of Namjoon; but just maybe, when she’d been happy with him and her guard had been lowered, Dilara had slipped in without warning as well.

She tightens her arms around Kaya and rubs her back. “It’s good to see you, too,” she says, sounding part-surprised and part-delighted. “It’s been a while but I promise that we will still - oh, hey.” The change in tone is abrupt. “Incoming.”

By the way her voice immediately lowers, Kaya is sure she knows what Dilara is referring to. Her heart beating a mile a minute, she pulls away from the hug and turns as casually as she can.

Her first thought is that he looks thinner - visibly so. Well, he’s on tour, says a voice in her head but Kaya suspects that’s not the only reason, for he’d been on tour when he’d broken up with her as well.

His hair is a silvery blond, looking almost metallic; dressed simply in a black T-shirt and jeans, he runs a hand through his hair so it falls gracefully around his face as he approaches her, his face unreadable.

“Hi,” he says, and it sounds like all the breath has been let out of him with just one word. He swallows and straightens his shoulders, a small smile appearing on his face, the dimple faintly visible. “It’s good to see you, Kaya.”

Kaya nods, unable to speak and overcome with a sudden urge to cry. “You, too,” she murmurs, glancing at the floor and blinking rapidly before looking back up at him, a bit defiantly.

“I’m glad you decided to come.”

She nods again, her chest twisting at how normal he sounds. He’s standing far away from her as well, as though to make it clear in every way possible that they’re not together.

“Hope you had a good concert,” she ventures, recalling the grad student who’d accosted her yesterday, practically beside herself at attending a BTS concert. “Backstage must have been hectic.”

A flicker of something appears in his eyes for a moment, possibly with memories of backstage. Wishes of luck, last minute hugs, sweaty and passionate kisses fueled by adrenaline. But it disappears instantly and Kaya wonders if she imagined it.

“It was,” he answers, nodding. He slides his hands into his pockets smoothly, leaning back on his heels and his smile widening a little. “But worth it as always. The crew did well.”

Kaya doesn’t even bother nodding this time; all of a sudden, she regrets coming here tonight. Dilara has left, she just realises, and Namjoon is acting like they’re acquaintances at best, making her feel stupid and yet immensely grateful that she didn’t wear the sexy black dress.

At that moment, his eyes flicker to something behind her. “I’m sorry, I just need to go and say hi to a couple of people. But enjoy your night. It’s an open bar,” he adds, smiling and nodding politely before brushing past her and walking away.

Kaya doesn’t move; she doesn’t think she can. Something heavy feels like it’s settled on her chest, the weight of confusion, disbelief and crushing disappointment threatening to suffocate her. She has no idea what she’d been expecting; maybe arguing, fighting, crying together again - but not him not caring. Not this.

Namjoon continues walking in the opposite direction for as long as he can keep Kaya in his peripheral vision, both guilty and relieved when she doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t think he can look her in the eye if she does, witness the pain and hurt in her face that close.

He catches Seokjin’s eye and hurries over to him. Seokjin raises his eyebrows and seems to guess what might have transpired, ushering him over to the other end of the circular bar and out of Kaya’s line of sight.

“How did it go?”

Namjoon rests his palms on the bar and shakes his head, no words coming to him at the moment and feeling like he could throw up. He can’t fathom how he did it, how he stood there before her and didn’t immediately pull her to him, or break down and ask her to forgive him for doing the only thing he knew to do.

“Drink this.” Seokjin slides a glass to him and Namjoon takes it without hesitation, taking a huge gulp and waiting for it to sting his sinuses.

“This is water,” he states hoarsely, frowning at the glass.

“Cold water,” corrects Seokjin. “It’ll help clear your head.”

Namjoon takes another sip and places the glass down, dropping his head into his hands. “I can’t do this. How do I tell her I can’t do this? How do I ask her to -“ But he breaks off here, his mind swimming with the sight of her bare shoulders and exposed collarbones, imagining how they would feel if he held her.

“Okay.” Seokjin exhales through his nose and pauses. “Look, I have to ask. You’ve seen the state she is in. And you’re…” He struggles for a moment “...like this. Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to ask her to get back -“

“No.” The answer is instant, although it’s partly a habit by now. As he does every time his mind tries to convince him otherwise, Namjoon forces the memory of her phone call to the forefront of his mind, the fear in her voice and devastation on her face when he’d entered her apartment.

“But maybe this is -“

“No.”

Seokjin is silent and Namjoon can tell that he doesn’t approve. Please don’t ask me again, hyung. He doesn’t know if he did the right thing by inviting her but he couldn’t imagine not doing it either, not being right here in her city, knowing she was so close that he could almost smell the coconut and vanilla in the air and still not see her in the flesh.

“If you’re sure,” says Seokjin at last. “If you are, then I guess you did well. Just… just be normal around her. Keep a normal distance, talk about normal things and…” He half-shrugs, sounding uncertain. “She’s smart. She’ll understand. If you’re sure you want to do this, then… she’ll get it.”

Normal. Namjoon knows what he means, but he wants to tell him that none of this is normal. Not touching her, not being honest with her, not being with her - none of it is normal.

“She’s talking to Yoongi right now,” he adds, and Namjoon turns to see them near the stairs to the top floor. Kaya’s back is to him, her head lowered slightly and her thumbs hooked onto the back pockets of her jeans, the material hugging her hips and curving down her backside… He swallows and looks away.

“This is your chance,” says Seokjin. “Go and mingle. Let her see you moving on - even if you actually aren’t,” he clarifies quickly. “It won’t be pleasant but it might encourage her to do the same.”

Namjoon isn’t sure of the wisdom of this strategy but ever since the cause of his break-up had been revealed to the older members (and surely to Taehyung at least, by Dilara), he’d almost been relieved that he wouldn’t have to make every decision on his own.

He tries his best to navigate the party after that, making empty conversation with guests, using every bit of remaining energy and willpower to plaster a smile on his face. All the while, part of his attention is constantly on Kaya, registering her familiar figure alone at the bar as she nurses a beer, sometimes with Dilara.

Be normal. Seokjin’s words start holding less and less meaning with every passing minute, especially when he spots Kaya having finished her drink and he’s struck with the sudden fear that she will leave the party. In an effort to be as normal as he can, Namjoon heads over to the bar where she’s scanning the life-size menu half-heartedly, arms folded across her chest.

“Like anything?” he asks humbly. Long Island Iced Tea or a Mai Tai - depends on the flavours. His heart jolts when she shoots him a doubtful look and doesn’t answer, almost as if she’s wary of talking to him. She leans over the bar and gives the bartender a smile that makes his heart drop, especially when he grins back.

“Komt de mai tai in mango?” she asks, half-pouting when he shakes his head. “Een biertje, alsjeblieft,” she says finally, taking her second beer and turning away from the bar.

Namjoon doesn’t remember ever feeling this distant from her. “I’m glad you came tonight,” he tries again, choosing to look at her even though she’s facing away.

Kaya nods, pursing her lips and looking ahead. “Yeah, you said that already.” But her voice trembles ever so slightly, or maybe he just knows her so well that he’s sure it’s not a case of her not wanting to look at him - she can’t look at him.

It’s all on him now. He started this; if there is any hope of them still staying in each other’s lives, it’s down to him to make it happen.

“How’s your dissertation going?” he asks, hoping her work is a topic she might open up on.

She shrugs after a moment. “Off schedule,” she answers shortly. “A lot of variables hanging in the air.”

“Did you get into the research project you’d applied for?”

It’s momentary but it appears: the corner of her mouth tilts upwards. “Yeah,” she admits, finally looking at him, albeit hesitantly. “Guess I’ll have a lot more time to focus on it now,” she murmurs, the hint of a smile fading.

Namjoon’s heart sinks. She’s so angry with him; it’s palpable and not something he has ever been on the receiving end of. Her hand hangs by her side; his own itches to link his fingers with his, maybe tug her to him or lead her out of this stupid party where he can plead for her to just look at him.

“Well,” he says, then pauses. “I’m glad you could get the time off tonight. Must have been hard.”

“M-hm, not really.” She shakes her head. “Adam wanted to meet but I’ll probably catch up with him later,” she adds nonchalantly.

Namjoon nods, his hand tightening around his glass. He can’t tell if she’s trying to provoke him, for they do work closely; close enough that Adam’s intentions have always been a point of disagreement for them. He’d never been able to explain to her just how much he hated the way her advisor looked at her when she didn’t notice, how his hugs always lingered a moment too long or how he insisted on calling her late in the evenings to discuss work.

He’s distracted momentarily by Jungkook, who approaches them while bopping effortlessly to the music and stops in between them, turning to face in the same direction as Namjoon and Kaya. He’s definitely tipsy; the smile on his face is too big and he doesn’t seem to be reading the room at all.

“Dilara is a really good dancer, isn’t she?” he says loudly in English to no one in particular. Namjoon frowns and follows his gaze to see Dilara, Taehyung and Hoseok dancing, before turning back to look at Jungkook. On his other side, Kaya is also frowning at him, tilting her head curiously. Their eyes meet and she raises her eyebrows slightly.

Namjoon fights a smile as Kaya half-chuckles and looks away, his heart twisting with longing at how much he misses her. She looks so incredibly beautiful; his eyes sting when he realises that there’s absolutely nothing he can do about it.

“I’m gonna -“ He gestures vaguely and walks away in the opposite direction, desperate to be anywhere but around her before his resolve breaks.

The next half hour is a flurry of faces; Namjoon distracts himself with every single individual at the party, making small talk and exchanging unfunny jokes and hyper aware of Kaya occasionally glancing at him.

He knows, because he’s watching her, too, doing his best to make sure she doesn’t see him looking. He can’t even help it; it’s almost muscle memory at this point.

“Who are you looking at?” The woman he’s talking to asks him point-blank.

Namjoon flushes, realising he’d been staring at Kaya over her shoulder while she’d been speaking.

“No one,” he answers quickly. “Sorry.”

The twenty-something woman frowns curiously. “Are you sure? I’m not offended.”

“It’s… nothing.” He shakes his head and looks at the floor.

“Ex-girlfriend?”

Ex. Not trusting himself to speak, Namjoon nods.

“Hm.” She hums, somewhat sympathetically. “Bad break-up?”

“Pretty bad.”

“I’m sorry,” she says after a moment. “It’s never easy to be around an ex if it hasn’t ended well.”

“Yeah, well,” he says, desperate to change the topic. “All part of the process, right?”

“Right,” she says encouragingly. “Plus, once you’re past this phase, the one where you constantly want to die, you can begin the drink and eat and hook up as much as you want stage with no judgement.”

He chuckles politely, the prospect sounding horrendous. “Thanks. Feels good to laugh for real.”

She smiles wider and, before he knows it, leans forward and presses a kiss against his lips.

It takes Namjoon a couple of seconds of pure shock before he jumps backwards. “Whoa. What -“ His heart races uncomfortably. “What was that?”

“Sorry,” she says slowly, looking a little confused. “I thought… you wanted to make your ex jealous. Isn’t that where you were going with this?”

“No,” he clarifies immediately. “No. Absolutely not. I don’t want to - no.” In the midst of his minor crisis, he notes how the woman looks almost mortified.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to -”

“It’s fine,” he cuts her off, suddenly feeling horribly guilty. He looks up out of habit and sees, unmistakably, Kaya leaving the restaurant, her long dark hair and the shimmery dark blue of her top disappearing out the door.

—

The night has gotten chillier in the last couple of hours and the cool wind hits her bare shoulders the moment she steps out, but Kaya barely feels it. She’s not thinking right now; thinking is what’s got them here, thinking about everything and overthinking to the point of fleeing a restaurant.

“Kaya!”

Her feet increase their pace automatically the same time her stomach flips, but he’s taller and faster and he reaches her before she can even reach the elevator.

“Kaya,” he repeats hurriedly, reaching and grabbing her elbow. “Wait, please. I’m sorry -”

“Why did you even invite me here?” she asks, cutting him off and turning around to face him. She’s so tired; she didn’t think break-ups could be this exhausting. “You’ve barely said anything to me. Was it to show me in person how you’re moving on? Because if that’s the case, then… message received.”

Namjoon shakes his head immediately; he looks exhausted as well, and Kaya is once again struck by how much thinner he is, overcome with a mixture of empathy and frustration at him.

“That was not - I didn’t plan that,” he says, sighing. “I don’t even know who she is. She kissed me and it wasn’t… come on, does it look like I’m moving on?” he asks, raising his arms helplessly.

Kaya stares at him and then sighs, shaking her head. “Why did you invite me here?” she asks again, less defensive this time.

“Because I wanted to see you,” he says at once.

She stares at him. “Well, you’ve seen me,” she says, sniffing. “Can I go now?”

“Kaya…”

“What?”

Namjoon runs a hand through his hair, looking lost for words. “Please don’t -“ He breaks off abruptly before taking a step closer to her, his height both large and comforting. “I don’t want you to be sad. I’m sorry.”

Too late. “You’re not supposed to care how I feel. Not anymore.”

He lets out a humourless chuckle. “What?”

“We’re over.” She can hear the tremble in her voice as she crosses her arms across her chest again. “You said it yourself. You’re not supposed to care how I feel.”

“Really?” He narrows his eyes at her. “You think this break-up had anything to do with how I feel about you? You know as I do that it didn’t.” When she doesn’t answer, he sighs. “I did this because I care.”

“If you say so.”

He pokes his tongue into his cheek. “Are you deliberately trying to provoke me or something?”

“Provoke you into what?” she blurts out. “What - what is that you want, exactly? What do you want us to do? Just circle around in each other’s orbits for the rest of our lives, while still being - while still feeling the way we do?” she asks, avoiding her almost-slip of tongue. “We’re just supposed to stay not be together and still stay in each other’s lives? What - what do you want?”

Namjoon opens his mouth but falls silent; it’s clear he hasn’t thought that far ahead - or he can’t say it out loud. “I want…” He begins, before pausing and starting again. “I want… you to be happy,” he says eventually. “And safe.”

She scoffs and he bristles.

“I’m serious. I -” He breaks off when someone exits the restaurant, his gaze following them until they’re out of sight before he turns back to her. “This is hard for me, too, you know? Why is it so hard for you to believe I might want you to be happy?”

Kaya exhales but doesn’t answer, because it isn’t hard to believe, not even a little bit. It’s unfortunately the most believable thing he’s ever said to her which means she can’t even fight it.

“How?” she asks finally. “By moving on, like you were pretending to do?”

Namjoon bites his lip and his eyes glaze over, and she knows he’s picturing it. His eyes fall to the floor but he nods slowly anyway. “Yeah, I guess. As long as I don’t have to watch it,” he adds in a mutter.

It’s really over. Kaya feels her eyes well up. “Fine,” she answers quietly. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find someone to move on with tonight.” She turns to leave but feels him stop her again. “What?” she snarls.

“Kaya, I -” The lift opens and a handful of people tumble out, holding merchandise and talking loudly. Namjoon’s eyes widen and he immediately grabs her arms and walks her back into a corner, just as the group turns into their corridor and towards the restaurant.

“What are you -”

But the second lift opens just then and they hear the sound of a second group of voices. Namjoon swears under his breath and pushes open a door behind her, walking her back further into the tiny dark room and letting the door swing shut behind him.

“What is wrong with -“

“It’s press,” he hisses, and she falls silent.

He peers out into the corridor through the small window in the door; there’s no light except for the bit through the window and from a skylight in the ceiling. Kaya can smell something vaguely citric that she decides is floor cleaner; they are in a janitor’s closet.

She and Namjoon are frozen in place, his hands still on her arms and hers on his torso to keep from losing her balance. It’s been a long time since they’ve been this close; it takes Kaya a few seconds to realise that the voices outside have disappeared, but he still hasn’t moved away.

Almost as if he’s subconsciously heard her, his thumbs stroke her arm once. The simple touch makes all the anger crumble away for a moment, especially now that it’s just them with the rest of the world shut outside. Kaya hesitates for a moment, then gently rests her forehead on his shoulder. Namjoon stiffens but a moment later, she feels his fingers tighten above her elbows, followed by him loosely enveloping her in his arms.

It seems cruel, almost, that the target of her anger and source of her comfort lie in the same person. It isn’t even a hug; it’s a moment of weakness at best, borne from his almost subconscious need to protect her. For the first time, Kaya wonders if she’s being unfair to him.

Resisting the temptation to wrap her arms around his waist, she steps away from him with difficulty, her back touching the wall. His arms fall from around her reluctantly, his expression resigned. It’s dark but she can see him more clearly than she has all night.

“This is a terrible idea,” she murmurs, echoing her words from a month ago. “The worst you’ve ever had.”

Namjoon exhales shakily but doesn’t argue. “I meant everything I said in that note,” he says, not even trying to hide the tremble in his voice anymore. “And I really do want you to be happy.”

The note. The one he’d kept on her bedside table when he’d left her apartment while she slept, the only thing of his that was left when she’d awoken, naked and alone. She’d only had the strength to read it once before she’d broken down and tucked it deep into her drawer, knowing the words would be etched in her memory.

“You know what will make me happy,” she whispers, looking at the ground. She feels him come closer to her, one hand hovering by her side as though unable to decide if she’d want her to touch him.

He finally rests it lightly on her waist, moving it slightly upward as she looks up at him, her heart twisting at how he’s unable to meet her eyes. She places her hands on his face, thinking vaguely how much she misses seeing his dimple.

“Joon,” she whispers, waiting for him to nod once. “Look at me.”

Namjoon visibly swallows, gaze still fallen. “Kaya, I…”

“No,” she interrupts him. “Look at me.”

With what seems like an enormous effort, he meets her eyes. This is hard for me too, you know?

She knows. Kaya strokes his cheekbones with her thumbs, her touch feather-light. “Kiss me,” she whispers. She touches her forehead to his and closes her eyes, hoping he’ll give in, for she can’t go further than this.

His hand tightens around her waist, pressing her into the wall. Their lips brush momentarily and he shivers.

“Do it,” she urges, her voice barely audible now. “Kiss me.”

She feels his lips before she even registers him moving against her and she leans into it, feeling like she can breathe for the first time in weeks. Come back to me, she thinks desperately. Come back to where you belong.

It’s like he can hear her. Namjoon pulls away, one hand on the wall beside her face for support, the other holding her.

“Fuck,” he whispers, and it sends a jolt of anticipation through her heart. “I love you, Kaya,” he adds, voice full of emotion. Kaya nods, unable to speak, wishing he would meet her eyes. He moves his hands to her face and touches his forehead to hers again, swallowing.

Look at me.

But he doesn’t. “But you have no idea,” he continues, every word sounding like it's costing him effort, “how I felt when you called me that night. The things that went through my mind…” He sniffs, and Kaya’s heart sinks. “I can’t let that happen again baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

She can feel her face start to contort and she drops her hands from his shoulders, for she knows this part by heart. “Goodbye, Namjoon,” she mutters thickly, sliding out from between him and the wall. She pushes open the door and hurries out, leaving him behind.

—

When she hears the knock on her front door the next morning, Kaya is just about to step into the shower. She freezes and sighs, for she really, really needs this shower. She considers ignoring it but the knock sounds again and she groans, abandoning the activity of tying up her hair and letting it fall loose instead.

Grabbing the old, threadbare robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door, she pulls it around herself and shuffles to the front door. She peers through the peephole and her heart stops for a moment, but she steels herself and opens the door.

Namjoon stands before her, hands in his pockets and shoulders slightly hunched. “Hey. I just wanted to - oh, God,” he switches abruptly, his expression changing from vaguely apologetic to shocked, and he slips inside the apartment.

“What?” Kaya asks, taken off guard and stumbling backwards.

“You really opened the door wearing that?” he hisses, shutting the door behind him. “I could’ve been anyone!”

“I knew it was you,” she argues, tightening the belt around her waist and realising, for the first time, how short the robe is. But she isn’t about to admit that to him, especially not when he’s turned up unannounced and decided to begin his visit by berating her. She folds her arms across her chest. “What do you want, Namjoon?”

He hesitates, almost as though he’s just noticing how displeased she is. “Sorry,” he mutters, looking a bit ashamed. “I didn’t mean to… anyway,” he says quickly, wringing his hands and slipping them back in his pockets. “How are you?”

Kaya shrugs suspiciously. He looks remarkably different from where she’d left him last night, almost breaking down and apologising to her. Right now, he seems almost… calm. She can almost imagine that last night had been a slip-up of emotion, possibly due to tiredness and an open bar, whereas in the light of day, he’s back to being the responsible ex who’s fulfilling his obligations by checking up on her each day.

“I’m great.”

He nods after a moment, clearly not believing her. “Well, I came here because…” He sighs and a glimmer of last night’s emotion appears on his face. “I thought about what you said last night. And you were right.”

The jolt in her stomach is almost painful, but Kaya hangs on. If he was talking about what she thinks he is, he would be delivering it far more differently.

“We can’t keep doing this. I can’t expect you to keep doing this,” he adds. “Staying in this limbo, not knowing…” He bites his lip and lowers his gaze, removing his hands from his pockets. “You have every right to move on. I want you to - to be happy.”

Kaya licks her lips slowly. “This,” she says coldly, “could’ve been a text.”

“I didn’t want to leave things the way they were last night,” he tells her, his voice softer. “You’re, uh…” His voice breaks off for a moment. “You’re the love of my life. And we were together for a long time and I… I loved every moment of it. I just want to say goodbye the right way.”

Her throat hurts holding back the rush of emotion that threatens to overwhelm her.

“Are you sure?” She can’t resist asking, in a whisper. When he nods and lowers his eyes, she feels the heavy, heavy anchor of acceptance settle in her stomach.

Namjoon hesitantly reaches out with one hand but when she gives him a look, he nods and steps forward, and they meet in their last hug, three and a half years after their first last hug in her apartment.

Kaya hugs him tight, no longer caring about hiding how she feels. There isn’t enough time to try and memorise everything so she doesn’t even try; she just goes higher on her toes and presses her nose into his shoulder, revelling in his scent one last time.

Namjoon doesn’t seem to be doing much better. He’s holding her tight, so tight that it doesn’t seem like he’s ever intending on letting her go. His face is in her hair and his arms stroke her back in small movements, his go-to movement to comfort her since they met.

Just a few more seconds. The sensations increase now; the feel of his shoulders, his chest touching hers - and she’s suddenly conscious of the thin robe being the only thing separating her naked body from him.

At the same time, his hands move to her waist - out of habit, she knows, but she can’t help but be extremely aware of it. His hand stops just above the curve of her hips, quickly and abruptly.

Her mouth feels dry, but her legs press together. Then, as though he can read her mind and the direction her thoughts are invariably leading in, against her hip, she can feel his body react.

She lets out a soft gasp and feels his body stiffen around her. This is goodbye, a voice reminds her, urging her brain to focus on the matter at hand. But it’s slipping - fading, almost, as a physical urge struggles for dominance.

Her lips brush his neck as she pulls away - she has to pull away - but it doesn’t matter in the end because somewhere along the way his lips find hers and all thought disappears, replaced by touch, feel and hunger.

Namjoon sighs into her mouth like he’s breathing for the first time, pulling her close. Her robe starts to loosen and he tugs at the belt, groaning when his hands touch her bare skin.

“Fuck, are you really not wearing anything under this?” he murmurs, his voice so low and reverberating so deep inside her that she shivers.

The robe is off; it’s cool and sudden air, a moment where his hands fall from her waist and then their back but this time, it’s skin against skin. It’s lips and sighs and tight grips, the feel of denim, her fingers moving out of habit as they unbutton and unzip - and then there’s pride and relief when she feels his desire for her, still the same as ever, no matter his words.

There’s something solid against her back; somewhere, dimly, her mind registers that her dining table is rickety and has her laptop on it, and then she’s leaning forward and he’s behind her and his chest is against her back and he wants her just as much as he wants him.

“Are you -“

“I’m still on birth control,” she confirms tightly, the next moment feeling his fingers on her hips and then he’s inside her again, after so long. She could almost sob at how good it feels, how right, the lips on her shoulder and his scent and touch.

But it’s over too soon. She gasps and falls forward, her ears ringing and heart hurting at the same time as her heart races. He’s getting close, too; she tries to memorise it now, the exact moment, but then he pulls out. It’s sudden, the emptiness, but the next moment, she feels wetness on her back.

It takes around ten seconds, ten seconds when she’s frozen before she finally hears him sigh and take a step away. A moment later, she reaches across the table and pulls the tissue box towards her, reaching behind and wiping her back.

Kaya turns slightly to see him pulling on his T-shirt, jeans buttoned already. She picks up her robe and pulls it on hurriedly, suddenly not wanting to be naked for even another microsecond in front of him.

Something feels wrong. It’s not the first time he’s finished on her; he’s done it before, on explicit request and without, none of which ever made her feel… like this. Self-conscious. Bare.

Namjoon clears his throat. “I -“ He meets her eyes, still panting slightly. “I still want to… do this right,” he says, sounding almost formal. “Goodbye, Kaya.”

He starts to take a step forward but pauses. “Maybe we shouldn’t hug,” he murmurs, offering her a small smile. Kaya watches as he hesitantly offers her a hand.

This is goodbye. Kaya can’t remember ever feeling this uncomfortable around him. The momentary loss of her sense of reason feels like it’s returned in full form, and she tightens the robe around her. She starts to reach for his hand but then stops.

“This is what you meant?” she asks quietly. “When you said you wanted to do it the right way? You wanted to see if you could squeeze in one last fuck before you closed this out like a business meeting?”

“What?” Namjoon’s eyes widen. “No! I didn’t - I didn’t want that to happen! I mean - you know that’s not what I meant,” he adds quickly. “I didn’t plan this. You and I both -“

“You planned our break-up and I had no idea,” she cuts him off, the shame and embarrassment creeping up her throat. “I really don’t know anymore.”

He scoffs, but his eyes flicker like he’s been stung. “Is that what you think of me? We were both here, Kaya. It wasn’t just me - you wanted this just as much as I -“

“I slept with Adam.”

Namjoon freezes. He swallows and his eyes flicker again, rapidly this time. “You’re lying,” he whispers.

Kaya shrugs, holding his gaze with every last bit of willpower in her. “You were the one who told me to move on last night,” she reminds him, watching his expression crumble and doing nothing to stop it.

After what feels like several minutes, or maybe even hours, Namjoon nods slowly. Then, without another word, he turns around and opens the door, walking out of her life and shutting the door behind him.

—

Thanks for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

#namjoon fanfic #namjoon x oc #thebtswritersclub #bangtanwhq #micdropnet #k-vanity #houseofddaeng #wkcnet #hyunglinenetwork #bts rm fanfic #bts rm angst #bts rm smut

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heartbreakgrill · 1 year ago

Text

Delicate: Vessel (Sleep Token); Part 1- "You can make me a drink."

description: Spending the summer touring Europe with her brother and the band he works for sounds like the perfect way to get herself out there, at least, that's what Daisy's intent is. But, with the cocky lead singer of the band, clashing personalities, and an entire summer for tensions to grow, things may not go as they are planned.

a/n: not the story i promised, but one i love. posted on ao3, too. enjoy lovelies <3

“Okay, so, ii is kind of…quiet, I guess? He’s fucking smart as shit. Knows all these random facts, but he just doesn’t talk too much until he gets to know you. Ya know?”

I stared out of the airplane window, Sam’s words distant to my tired brain. My processing skills were not sharp this early in the morning, especially considering the time change we had gone through. I was too focused on the view, anyways. The sky looked ethereal this time of morning, all foggy mountain peaks bleeding into crimson orange, bordered by black, starry clouds. I traced their puffy edges with my bleary eyes in an attempt to not fall back asleep. We were landing, after all, and we’d have to push through busy crowds for the next half an hour. Falling back asleep would take any energy I had left and stomp it out.

“And, then, iii…I am a little concerned about how he’ll act with you because he’s-he’s flirtatious-”

“Ladies and gentleman, we are now landing at Heathrow International Airport in London, England,” the pilot interrupted Sam’s sentence, staticky voice crackling over our heads.

I felt Sam shift in his seat. His elbow knocked against mine on the tiny armrest we had been fighting over the entire flight. I snidely shoved my elbow against his in an attempt to steal the space back. He hissed as it pained his funny bone. I looked over in time to catch the glare he sent me, his fingers rubbing at his bruising bone.

Though he looked annoyed, he kept his murmurs to himself, unwilling to be too aggressive with me this early in the morning- and this early in the trip. We had an entire summer that we still had to spend together. Starting fights now would make it a miserable, long couple of months.

“That was rude,” I heard him say. I ignored him and turned back towards the plane’s window. The ground was growing closer as we shakily descended from the air.

“‘Course, then…there’s Vessel.” Sam continued on his explanation of the band members and a few of the crew workers I would have the opportunity to meet this summer. He had been doing so I woke up fifteen minutes ago.

Not that I planned to hang around Sam and his friends too much. I was taking this time between college graduation and going back for my master’s in the fall to see what little of the world I could manage. I didn’t plan on being stuck indoors at the hotel or backstage at the venues too often. I had plans for each and every tour stop- friends I would be meeting up with, concerts I was going to attend. I had my own long list of tourist attractions I had to see, bucket items I needed to cross off. Sam’s friends sounded lovely, but I didn’t expect to be too attached to them.

“He’s quite, um…How do I describe him? He’s not scary, per say…just…intense. He’s quiet and brooding and I don’t really think you’ll like him too much, ya know? Anyways.”

Sam unbuckled his seatbelt. I finally peeled my eyes from the window, the edges of my lids burning with exhaustion. I undid my own belt, reached down to gather my book bag, and looped my neck pillow under my arm.

Sam looked down at me with a tired smile, “You’ll be meeting them all very soon, so…you can just find out for yourself.”

I offered up a grin, even if my face fought back at the energy this action required. “Thanks for having me, Sam-Ham.” I moved to rest my head against his shoulder, sweetly. I probably could have slept right there if we weren’t having to pile out of the plane.

He went to rest his own head against mine, but as soon as the nickname quietly passed my lips, he flinched, back straightening up. “Please don’t call me that in front of them. Please, Daisy. Please. I don’t have any other rules you have to follow. I’m giving you complete freedom on this tour. Just- please. Don’t say that.”

My grin twisted into a devious smirk. Sam’s brown eyes were pleading, a frown sitting deep in his wrinkled cheeks. “Aw, what do you mean, Sam-Ham? Are you embarrassed?”

He flinched again at the nickname. I’d given it to him when I was four and he was just eight. He loved ham and cheese sandwiches at the time and refused to eat basically anything else. Ever since that month-long fight of mom trying to force him to consume any semblance of a vegetable or fruit, I’d coined him as such with zero ounces of shame. On social media posts, his birthday cards, at his own high school graduation party. No shame.

“Daisy-” he went to plead again, but I wouldn’t let him.

“Everyone’s getting off. Let’s go.” I pushed past Sam, ignoring him. I marched out of our aisle, then off the plane, Sam hot on my heels. His frustration with the nickname had melted into protectiveness as he tried to keep up with me. He’d always been overbearing, and I think he’d only be more annoying about it during this trip.

The air in London was chilly, though it was felt only briefly as we walked down through the terminal. I was grateful to have a hoodie wrapped around my waist, and managed to slip it on as we walked. I knew it would warm up as the day passed on, though. It was May, after all, and London had that weird spring weather, with chilly mornings and sweltering afternoons. At least, this information was according to Sam and a few Google searches on my end.

Sam caught up to my side as we headed for baggage claim. He had his phone out, ready to shoot someone a text, “Okay…”

I spotted our bags spinning past where we stood. As he continued, I reached out and grabbed them. They landed on the floor beside us as Sam said, “Ronnie- Ronnie’s the band’s tour manager, also one of my best friends, ever. You might like her-”

“I like everyone, Sam, unless they’re an asshole. I don’t know why you assume I’m such a hater-”

“Cause you are!” He said, matter-of-factly. I always hated when he’d make negative observations about me. I knew I was his little sister, his annoying little sister who threw dirt at him when we were little, who he had to drag along on first dates in high school. But, I was more than that spoiled brat, especially now. I hoped this summer would help him see that, hoped he would gain some respect for me based on the difference in the real me and who he knew.

I wanted to shove his suitcase at him, just to spite him for making such a comment. But, I simply smiled up at him and rolled the luggage towards his outstretched hand. Before he could really say anything, I shot towards the exit.

“Anyways!” He rushed up to my side, breathless from how quickly I walked.

He shoved his mop of dirty blond hair into his phone as he continued texting someone. “Ronnie’s sent over an Uber,” he spoke, absentmindedly.

The automatic doors slid open. We stepped out into the chilly morning air of London. Had Sam’s head not been shoved into his phone, he would have been able to see the glorious sight lain out before us. He unfortunately didn’t, but I sure did.

I came to a halting stop, a humored grin upon my face. Sam bumped into my shoulder, but still wouldn’t look up from his phone. “Uber is a gray sedan-”

I giggled, stepping towards the group of men standing before us, party hats upon their heads, noisemakers between their lips, and a god awfully hand drawn sign held out before them.

Sam, dark brows furrowed, questioned my laughter, “What-?”

He finally pulled his nose from his phone. As he did, I took a party hat from one of the band member’s outstretched hands. We all blew into our noisemakers. Chaos erupted.

“Welcome back from rehab, Sam!” The shortest of the group held the sign up proudly, a bright grin on his face.

“What the fuck-?”

The tallest man- who had sandy blond hair and stormy gray eyes- a literal personification of the beaches in England- nearly tackled Sam, crushing his frame between the hand drawn sign and his hugging arms. I pulled the noisemaker from my mouth as a laugh erupted from me. The others rushed forward to greet their friend. Sam’s face was flushed red from the words on the sign, but he looked so incredibly happy, embracing each of them. They were all dressed in dark black clothing, save for a few spots of royal blue, maroon, or forest green. It was in stark contrast to my pink hoodie and gray sweatpants. Sam was right when he said these people weren’t my usual crowd, but wrong when he just assumed I wouldn’t like them. Yet another example of his misconstrued perception about who I really was. Just because I was girly, a Taylor Swift lover, with my favorite colors being purple and pink, didn’t mean I automatically could not stand people in the metal crowd. They were just different from me- that was all.

I did keep my distance, though, just as they greeted each other. I waited for Sam to introduce me, which he did shortly after. Their chaos faded as he moved his way back through the group, back to me. He faced them from here, an arm around my shoulders. “This is my baby sister-”

I elbowed his side, frowning at his choice of words. He squirmed away from me, a slight hiss pulled through his lips because of the pain. I stepped forward, offering my hand to the closest person- a short, blond-headed man with these brilliant blue eyes. “Daisy.”

He shook my hand politely, “Pleasure to meet you, Daisy. I’m-” He cut his own words off, glancing over my shoulder to Sam. ‘‘Wait…Are we introducing ourselves as, like, numbers or real people?”

I cracked a smile at the confusion. The tall man beside him, clutching the sign he’d made Sam,, shrugged, “We’re already unmasked. Might as well.”

“I can sign something,” I let go of his hand with a casual wave in my arms. “I don’t mind.”

“We can take care of that later,” another short one, darker haired with slight ringlets to his hair and green in his eyes, stepped forward. He took my hand, “Adam.”

“Cyrus. Cy, for short,” settled the original one.

I nodded at each of their introductions. The tallest one was named Max. He must have been three, considering he kissed the back of my hand and smirked up at me. Also considering Sam stepped between us and punched Max in the shoulder. He was right about the flirtations, though I didn’t mind it too much. I knew it was harmless.

Finally, I turned to the last band mate. I held out my hand. He glanced between it and my face, lips thin, face void of any expression. My brows furrowed slightly. I felt insecure under his harsh gaze, but I kept my kind composure, “Daisy. Nice to meet you…”

“Oliver.”

He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t move to take my hand, didn’t offer up any kind greetings. My once joyous smile morphed into a frown. Sam had warned me he was brooding, quiet. But, not rude. He was just plain rude.

I didn’t have time to ruminate on this meet-ugly, though, because Sam was then herding us all into a taxi. They had meetings to get to, I guess. I was given the front seat, which only made me feel a little left out. I knew that would probably happen, considering Sam had been working for them for four years now and I was a newbie. So, I didn’t take it to heart. Sitting in the front of a taxi was mostly just awkward.

What I did take to heart, however, was Oliver’s rude introduction. Perhaps it was because I was so tired, but…it bothered me. I didn’t want to spend the summer with an asshole like him. As we got onto the busy road, thirty minutes counting down on the GPS for our arrival at the first venue, I eyed him in the mirror, a slight glare in my tired eyes

He sat behind the driver’s seat, large legs pushing up against the door and spilling into Cyrus’ space. I didn’t get a good look at him earlier, too focused on the bad energy he bled. From what I gathered through the rearview mirror’s reflection, he had sharp features- a long nose, pursed, pink lips, high cheekbones, and a neck that more than definitely spilled into a toned chest. His eyes were dark, brown, maybe, but I remembered that, outside, when the sun hit them, they were lighter. His hair was a medium shade of brown, shaggy before his eyes, but clean cut on the sides.

He was kind of attractive. But, that didn’t matter, considering he’d made such a terrible first impression. I knew he was Vessel because, even though he’d muttered just one word to me, his dark voice matched the one from the songs that Sam had forced me to listen to before we left. He was probably full of himself, the fame inflating his head, his ego, which was why he gave such a shit introduction. He honestly probably just thought he was too good for little girls like me, though he was only seven years older than me.

Like I said, I didn’t have anything against people who listened to metal. But, part of the reason I could never really get into the shit that Sam liked, was because most of the band’s seemed to be like this Vessel, this Oliver guy. Stuck-up, self-involved, all struggling artists who thought the world was out to get them, though, in reality, they were elitist, straight, white, cis men who had more privilege in their pinky fingers than I had in my entire body.

Either I had been staring for too long, or he felt my gaze, because his dark eyes met mine in the mirror. I flinched, quickly snapping my chin towards the window. I pressed my knees against the door, arms crossed over my chest ashamedly, trying to melt away. I caught sight of the exposed skin on my arm, where my hoodie sleeve had been tugged up a bit from my restlessness, and saw goosebumps littering my body. Why was my body reacting to his stare this way?

I sulked in my frustration the entire ride there, ignoring the sense that I could still feel his eyes burning into me. Eventually, I guess, I passed out, even though the morning fog cleared the view outside my window, displaying the beautiful, stretching buildings of the city. If I were awake, I could appreciate the glorious architecture, the landscapes of this foreign land.

Someone woke me up, their warm hand pressed upon my shoulder. “We’re here.”

I knew it wasn’t Sam, only because, as I sat up in my seat, I saw him standing at the back of the taxi, pulling our luggage from the trunk. Besides, he didn’t have an accent like this person did. I turned to see who had so gently awoken me, but the backseat remained empty.

I gathered my things, swinging my backpack straps over my shoulders as I stepped onto the cobblestone of the hotel parking lot. It was sprinkling, so I tugged my hood up and over my head. Sam then rounded the car, dragging my suitcase behind him noisily.

“Here,” he rolled it to a stop before me. His eyes examined my face for a moment, seeing the furrowed brows and scowl I wore, “You doing okay?”

I shivered, hugging my arms around my body. I felt kind of sick, probably from the jet lag. I tried to look not so bitchy, but I couldn’t do that when my head was pounding and vile threatened my throat. “Yeah,” I nodded, half-heartedly, “just need to lay down, I think.”

“S’okay,” Sam patted my head, “we’ll check into the hotel quickly and get you into bed, okay?”

I nodded again. Sam took my suitcase back into his hold and gestured for me to follow him. The band was just a few feet behind us as we headed into the hotel. I wanted to stop, take a look around, snap a billion photos of this newfound dreamland. But, my head was pounding more as we moved about. My stomach ached from hunger and exhaustion. I needed a long nap, even if it would fuck up my sleep schedule more than it already was going to be.

We reached the front desk. Sam began speaking to the attendant there, our reservation details pulled up on his phone screen, in the email management had sent him. Because I was tagging along and didn’t exactly work for the band, Sam and I would be forced to share lodging in each and every city. Luckily, I’d managed to snag my own bunk on the tour bus. But, when we’d jump between countries, I had to buy my plane tickets. I didn’t mind, considering this was a once in a lifetime opportunity and that really wasn’t asking much from me.

I leaned against the counter, arms still wrapped around my body as I hunched forward. I squeezed my eyes shut in an attempt to ease the headache. Sam, the attendant, the band- their voices were all distant, like I was on another plane of existence.

But, another voice- one delicate, with an unfamiliar accent- became relevant to my hearing as he approached me. “Jet lag getting to you, love?”

I opened one eye and, upon seeing Max, straightened up a bit, “Oh, fuck,” I chuckled quietly. “It is.”

“Doesn’t get any better, just to warn you,” he shoved his large hands into the pockets of his black jeans. Stray pieces of his blond hair fell from the bun at the back of his hair.

I nodded up at him, neck straining, considering he towered over me, “Amazing news, thank you.”

“You need to invest in some energy drinks, loads of excedrin, and get good at cat napping,” he offered up the little advice he’d gathered from his years of experience touring.

Sam turned back to us, holding out a key card for me to take. I thanked him, plucking the key from his fingers, before looking back at Max, “Thank you, too. I’ll go try out this cat nap you speak of.”

Max grinned at me with a slight scrunch in his nose. I tried and failed to return the expression. Then, I continued on following Sam towards the elevators. I glanced behind us as we stepped inside and saw that the band was b-lining for the front doors. Just as the gray metal doors of the room boxed us in, I saw one of them peer over his shoulder, looking back at us. Sam didn’t notice, too busy pressing our floor number into the key pad. But, I did.

Oliver and I met eyes. He quickly looked away. The doors shut.

I tried to take a cat nap. I well and truly tried. I even turned a timer on for twenty minutes, promising myself that I would get up as soon as the alarm went off. I kind of knew that was going to happen when, as soon as my head hit the stack of plump pillows, my burning eyes immediately fell shut.

I guess my body had other plans than taking that cat nap.

As the alarm rang, Sam stepped out of the bathroom, where he had been showering and getting ready for the day. It was, after all, only 10am, and he had a job to report to. He sat down on my bed, near my chest. He set a warm hand down upon my shoulder.

I squirmed under the covers, fully waking as I felt his touch. I aggressively shut off the noisy alarm and groaned into my pillow.

Sam chuckled, squeezing my arm again. “Go back to sleep, Daz.”

“I want to, but…I don’t want to waste the day away. God, this sucks!”

He laughed again, “You’ll get more used to it. Besides, we have a whole other week in this city. You will have plenty of time to see everything you want to.”

“Where are you going?” My own words were muffled by my unwillingness to open my mouth all the way. Sam patted my head soothingly and I felt myself quickly falling back asleep, like the rain pattering against the window pane. I barely understood what he was saying now, too dazed and confused. “The venue. Have some meetings and shit. I’ll send you the address if you want to stop by. Just, take it easy for me today, Daz.”

His comforting demeanor, his warm touch, the love and gentleness that he treated me with- it only coaxed me further into my slumber. Sam pressed a kiss to my head before leaving. The door to the hotel room clicking shut was the last thing I’d consciously hear for the next eight hours.

I woke with a sharp intake of breath. There was a dry taste in my mouth, drool crusted in the corner of my lips, and a sheen of sweat clung my t-shirt to the skin of my back. I sat up, so I could peel my hoodie off, a gross expression morphing onto my face. My head still hurt, but the Excedrin I had taken that morning was helping just a bit.

I lazily made the bed, knowing I would be back in its clutches in just a few, short hours. The process made me feel a bit normal, though I was thrown off my rhythm completely. As I did it, my stomach growled, angrily. I realized at that moment that I hadn’t eaten anything all day. The last thing I remember consuming was that souvenir package of pretzels on the plane- and that was nearly 24-hours ago.

First things first- I had to shower. So, I scrubbed the plane dust, the sweat, from my skin. Then, I dressed in something easy: leggings, a reputation album hoodie, my white sneakers. I clipped my wet hair up, away from my face, and filled my purse with what I thought were essentials- my passport, in case I managed to get lost somewhere- a portable charger, my wallet, hotel key card, a can of pepper spray. I knew Europe was much more safe than America, but- I still needed to be cautious.

As I rode the elevator down the stairs, I shot Sam a text. There were five unanswered ones from him- the address to the venue, a photo of the outside of it, a check-in to see if I was okay, a pin-drop of his location, and, finally, one of him informing me that he was returning to the hotel with the band.

I reached the lobby and spotted them all at the hotel bar. They had taken up a table in the corner, noisy, chaotic, bordering on drunk. The rest of the room was nearly emptied out, probably because of them. Max saw my approaching figure first. He raised a hand to wave, interrupting Sam to say, “Look who it is! Cat nap do you any good?”

I shook my head at his words, a small giggle on my lips, “Not at all. I slept for eight hours.”

“Oh, shit,” Sam turned in his chair to face me. “I was wondering ‘cause you never responded to my texts.”

“Sorry,” I shrugged. Cyrus and Adam gave their attention to me. I looked over their faces with a polite smile before my eyes landed on their lead singer. He clutched onto an amber colored drink, head pointed down towards the table. He didn’t even have the decency to look at me when I was speaking.

I took a deep, annoyed breath, countering my vision back to Max, as he said, “You’ll get in the swing of things soon enough.”

I ignored the frustration Oliver fueled in my bones and said, “Just mad I wasted a day.”

Adam tilted his glass to me, “It’s okay, Daisy. You didn’t miss much.”

“No?” I inquired, glancing around the men before me.

They all shook their heads. Cyrus frowned, “Just meetings. Boring shit like that.”

“You have all summer, Daz. You can start catching up tomorrow,” Sam reassured me again.

“Well, I am gonna go out tonight. Just for a bit,” I replied.

Max nodded appreciatively at my plans, ‘'Whatcha gonna do? Hit the town? Go dancing, maybe?”

“Eat my weight in Nando's, actually,” I giggled in response.

The boys shared a round of laughter. I glanced at Oliver, but his head was still down. He was scrolling his phone, now, frowning though the rest of us were having a great. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and looked at Cyrus. “Nando's is great. You’ll like it.”

“Hope so.”

Sam finished off his drink with just a small sip. “I should come with you.”

I waved him off, “I’ll be okay. I’m gonna be alone a lot this summer. Best to get used to it now.”

“It’s late, though,” he offered up again.

“It’s fine, I promise. I’ll give you my location and you can anxiously watch my little avatar move around London, okay?”

Sam huffed in agreement, unwilling to argue with me. I was an adult, after all. He didn’t really have a say as to what I did, though I wasn’t unappreciative of his efforts. Then, Max spoke again, “Well, you’ll have to let us take you out another time, though. Maybe even take you dancing. There’s a great nightlife here in London.”

“Yeah, that could be fun,” I nodded. My stomach growled and, luckily, I was the only one to have heard it. I began to wrap up the short conversation, “I’m gonna get going. I haven’t eaten all day and I feel like I’m gonna turn into the Hulk soon. See you all tomorrow?”

Sam stood from his seat and enveloped me in a short hug. “Be safe, Daz.”

As we pulled apart, I reached up on my toes to ruffle his sandy hair. I settled back onto my heels, my smile morphing into a mischievous smirk as I thought of a silly way to throw him off. I tilted my head to the side, teasing, “Sure thing, Sam Ham.”

I rushed for the exit, escaping the hotel bar before he could retaliate. I knew I had made his face flush a deep red. I could even hear the band’s laughter trailing behind me as they teased him for the nickname. It was a good start to what felt like it could be one of the best summer’s of my life.

As long as Oliver stayed out of my way.

I was gone for just two hours. I struggled to find Nando’s at first because Google had me walking in circles. But with a little help from a CVS worker, I finally reached the restaurant. I ordered a little more food than I was probably able to eat because I wanted to sample the popular menu. Between the mass amount of food and the speed at which I ate, it wasn’t long until I was full.

After I left the building, I took a stroll, finally in a decent enough headspace to be able to appreciate the lit-up city. It was Monday, and nearly 10pm, so most of the shops and bars were closed for the evening. When something interested me, I simply wrote down in my notes app so I could remember to come back. Tomorrow, I decided, I would return to this little corner of the world.

Elated with the excitement of this promising journey, the mood only heightened from the hunger dissipated in my bones, I made it back to the hotel. Though Sam had promised me he would stay up, he was curled up under the blankets, passed out. I wasn’t mad- I knew he needed to get a good night’s rest. Besides, back home, I lived alone, came and went late at night all the time. I didn’t need him to look out for me to this extreme extent. I tucked the blankets up under his chin a bit more snugly, plugged his phone in, and ensured I was quiet as I got myself ready to lay down.

However, I threw the covers off of myself after struggling to sleep for over an hour. My body was buzzing. I was just not going to be able to fall asleep for a while. I could feel the energy pulsing through my body, excitement forcing my once tired eyes to jolt open unwillingly. I needed to get up, move around, do something to get this jumpiness to leave me alone.

I pulled my once abandoned hoodie overtop my pj set, shoved my feet into the pair of slippers I’d packed. Rummaging through the mini-fridge, I pulled out a few small bottles of liquor- three vodka shots, one Jack Daniels. These few should be enough to get me to sleep.

I piled them into my purse, grabbed my phone off the nightstand, and headed out the door. I didn’t know where I was going when I got into the elevator, but my eyes scanned over the button pad and found an option for the roof. That seemed like a good enough place to chill for a while.

The air was cold, but not in a bitter way. My warm skin almost welcomed the stark contrast. It seemed to coax the buzz of energy out of my system once I began to shiver. There were a few patio chairs set up around fire pits or grills. I picked a huddle that was positioned towards the corner of the roof, sitting myself criss-cross on a maroon-colored couch.

I unlocked my phone and shuffled my liked songs playlist on Spotify. I uncapped one of the shots and downed it with a scrunched face. I never much liked the taste of alcohol because it was so bitter. And, then, because of that, tolerance was low and I was an annoying light weight. It immediately made my chest feel warm. At least two of these would probably coax me to sleep, no problem.

“Gonna share?”

I flinched at the deep voice, eyes snapping from examining the front of the bottle to the body seated across the firepit from me. It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the light from the small tiki lamps surrounding our section of the roof. But, when they did, my pupils widened in slight shock.

“How long have you been sitting there?” I replied, tone a little more than annoyed that he was just now announcing himself.

“Long enough to know you can’t take a shot,” there was a smirk in his voice, a cockiness that made me want to wipe it clean off his pink, plump lips.

“Sorry I’m not an alcoholic,” I snide back. “If you want one, you have to come get it, by the way. I’m comfy now.”

“Comfy with this trash music playing?” He quipped, though he stood and reached out for the alcohol..

I begrudgingly handed him a vodka bottle, though his comment only annoyed me further, “Real men like Taylor Swift.”

“Hey, haven’t you heard? I’m a vessel. Not a man.”

I watched in silence as he took the shot. He held my eyes in his. There was a teasing sense edging at his pupils. I couldn’t quite read what he intended with his gaze, his quips. Maybe he was really trying to piss me off even more. I already figured him an asshole, based off of how he acted each time I saw him today. But, with every sentence that passed, this belief was only carved deeper.

I pressed my lips together in an attempt to soothe my frustration. If he really just wanted to get on my nerves, I wasn’t going to let him know it was working. I would just be sickly sweet in return. “So, Vessel, what are you doing up here? Can’t sleep?”

“Obviously,” he waved me off.

I watched him for another moment, wondering what I could say to bother him back. He took a cigarette and a lighter from his hoodie pocket. The end of it glowed red from the small flame. and he sunk it between his lips. When he pulled it out, he flicked his brows at me, as if to offer a drag. I frowned, head shaking, “That’s okay. Thanks.”

“Hm…too good for a smoke, then?” He flicked off the end of the cigarette, sending ashes down to his pant leg, onto the concrete of the roof below us.

I watched as they fell, a glare in my gaze, “More like my mom died of lung cancer because she smoked for thirty years.”

Oliver held the cigarette mid-air, paused from bringing it to his lips. He flicked his brows again, rubbed his lips together, Then, he tossed the stick onto the floor and stomped it with the toe of his boot. “Sorry.”

“Mhm,” I challenged, knowing I now had the upper-hand because of his obvious guilt. All I could think was that I really did not like him. But he was so fucking hot.

“I’d ask what you’re doing up, but I figured you wouldn’t be able to sleep after the day you had.”

“Yeah, no,” I chuckled dryly.

Oliver peeled his eyes from my face, looking out over the city lights sprawled out before us. He pondered for a moment, the process obvious because of the way it sat on his face- his eyes darkened, his brows furrowed, and he frowned. I wanted to make a comment about how I could see the smoke billowing from his ears as he thought, but he met my eye again.

“What’s your deal, Daisy?”

I wouldn’t admit it, but I loved the way my name sounded on his pretty pink lips. I wanted to hear it, closer, right next to my ear, in a much darker setting, wearing way less clothing. I shook away the thought, hoping it wasn’t obvious that he had thrown me for a loop. I ignored the smirk that curled on his mouth, shifted in my seat, and shrugged, “What the fuck does that mean?”

Oliver laughed, a dry, hollow sound that I quite enjoyed. I opened the other shot of vodka and went to take it, needing desperately to quiet my brain. But, he replied, “What are you here for?”

“What are you here for?” I leaned forward to toss him the bottle of Jack Daniels.

He took it, then stretched his arms out over the back of the couch he sat upon, the bottle hanging loosely from his fingers.. “Good question. For our music, I suppose. To perform it for our listeners.”

“That’s not what you’re here for,” I rejected his words, shaking my head just slightly, “That’s what everyone else is here for. What about you, Oliver?”

He glanced around. Smoke, ears again. I nearly cracked a smile at the parallel before he finally responded, “To…worship. To celebrate my music, myself…life.”

I held the shot out towards him, offering a cheer up to what he had said, “To life.”

Oliver leaned forward on the couch, stopping me before I could take the shot, “Wait, what about you?”

“There’s no deeper meaning to anything I do,” I waved him off with a small giggle. The air between us was growing more comfortable as we opened up to each other. Maybe Sam was right- maybe Oliver just needed to get to know me before he stopped being an ass. It didn’t make it okay, that he was like that. It was definitely a trauma response. But, it was alright. I’d be over it by the morning, especially considering some semblance of a friendship was blossoming here between us.

“Oh, Daisy, there’s always deeper meaning to everything humans do. Think. What’s yours?” He lay a hand out, as if I had to fill that empty air with my response.

I glanced from his hand, out to the city, thinking over the question. What was mine? Why was I here? I wanted to take a break from reality before my life would really start. I wanted to see the world. I wanted to visit friends, to discover life beyond my small corner of the map. But, what did it all mean to me? What was my purpose this summer? I was always quite stagnant. I just…existed. I don’t think I ever really lived, found that meaning within what I did.

“I guess…” I met his eye again, finding some answers in my own thoughts, “I guess…to find that deeper meaning. To find what I’m looking for, maybe.”

“Then, to life…to discovering life. To finding life,” he sampled a few phrases before settling upon what he’d come up with..

We both leaned our arms out until our shot glasses clinked together. It was cheesy, meta, a conversation that, 24 hours ago, I would have snorted at. At least, that’s what the girl who boarded the plane last night would have done. Maybe I was changing already, and maybe it was for the better. Maybe this summer really would be about discovering life, discovering my own.

I didn’t think we’d find much else to talk about, but that was quickly proven wrong. We spent the next hour and a half involved in a deep conversation, swapping childhood stories, dreams, favorite songs and movies. Oliver wasn’t so bad, wasn’t so depressing as I originally thought he was. Sure, he had plenty of skeletons in the closet. But, he was funny, too, with niche interests, interesting stories that drew laughter out of me. I hadn’t thought this was possible.

Eventually, we both needed to get to bed. He had to be up in just six hours and I wanted to get a good start on the next day. I was finally starting to feel tired, too. So, we boarded the elevator together, only after tossing his cigarette bud and shot bottles into the trash.

Oliver reached across my body to press the button for our floor. As his body passed mine, I caught a sweet whiff of his cologne. It rattled my brain around. That, combined with his warm breath, and the alcohol in my system, shivered goosebumps down my spine.

As he settled back on his heels, I braved a glance up at his handsome face. He was already looking down at me. The small smile on his plump lips stretched into a teeth-bearing grin. I blushed at the expression on his face.

I didn’t care anymore, not about his rude greetings, his annoyed stature at the bar earlier. I didn’t care about any of it, if it would mean he would keep looking at me like he was right now.

My eyes felt like they glazed over as we stared at one another. Oliver turned his shoulder, facing his chest towards me. The action was an opening door, an encouraging lure into dark places I should stray from. But, I didn’t.

I faced him, too, fingers grasping at my hoodie sleeves, nervously. Oliver tucked his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. He spoke, softly, quietly, “You’re very pretty, Daisy.”

I blushed, again. I went to step forward, to make some sort of move in return. But, then, the elevator doors were cracking themselves open. A bell rang overhead.

I guess it broke whatever trance we were both in. Oliver stepped out first, but didn’t move to stride away. He waited for me to join him in the hall. We walked, side by side, towards our rooms, silence taking up so much space and time. Maybe I was being delusional, but I really thought he was going to make some sort of move on me. It probably wouldn’t be for the best, but…Either way, I was grateful for the bond we had begun to form. It would make for a great tour, I just knew it.

Just as I reached my door, Oliver softly called out my name. I turned to him, hand on the door knob, ready to escape into the confines of my bed to think over everything. I met his dark eyes, catching the light in the golden flecks of his pupils. He smiled, “Thanks for staying up with me.”

I couldn’t help but grin back, appreciative of the time we’d spent, hopeful for the future of our friendship (even if I had imagined him blowing my back out in the elevator). “Thank you, Oliver. Sleep well. I’ll see you in the morning.”

And see him I did.

When Sam’s alarm went off, I joined him in getting ready, deciding to hit the town early. We went down to breakfast together, my attitude a little more perkier than his, considering the jet lag had started to get to him. And, considering I was excited to see my newfound friend.

We sat with Max and Adam. I greeted them both with a kind smile, my plate of pancakes coming to rest on the table before me. We chatted just a bit, everyone a little more quiet than usual due to the slowness of the morning time.

I finished up my first pancake just as Cy and Oliver sat down with us. I looked up from my plate, grinning despite myself, and tried to meet Oliver’s eyes. “Good morning, guys.”

Cy glanced up, a tired smile on his face. “Morning, Daisy. Sleep okay?”

It took more than a moment before I looked at him, mind focused on catching Oliver’s eyes, “Yeah, thanks. Struggled for a bit, but managed to get to sleep after Ol-”

“Butter,” Oliver reached out a hand, eyes trained onto his plate.

I peeled my gaze from Cy, my smile faltering when I realized Oliver was holding out a hand towards me. He was waiting for me to pick up the plate and hand it to him, without any sign of a please or, God forbid, a greeting. Not to mention, he interrupted me as soon as I had begun to mention our escapade from the night before.

I narrowed my eyes, hoping my burning stare would rattle him. But, it did nothing, so I picked up the butter and shoved it into his hand. He settled it onto the table before him and didn’t say anything else.

What was going on here?

I was thrown for a loop, which seemed to just be the case when it came to him. He was a game, I realized now. And, I did not plan on playing it. Cy looked up from his plate, “After what, Daisy?”

I tried again, just to confirm if that interruption had been as intentional as it seemed, “After Ol-”

He coughed. He coughed right through my words, stopping me from saying his name; again. His gaze was still locked on his plate as he buttered his toast. He blinked. Didn’t make any move to excuse himself, apologize. Nothing.

I gave up then, reading the situation well enough to understand he didn’t want anyone to know about last night. I settled on saying, “After downing a couple shots of vodka. Helped me get to…sleep.” I continued to watch Oliver as I spoke, my -tone flat, frown settled deep into my cheeks.

Cyrus responded, though I wasn’t listening anymore. Max conversed back, moving onto some wild, drunken story from last tour, intended to make me laugh. I tried to catch onto their words, tried to give them the chuckles they searched for. The attention they deserved, and Oliver did not.

But, I couldn’t draw my eyes from his face. After a few minutes, he finally glanced up, though it was quickly, barely looking long enough for me to catch his eyes.

This was going to be a long summer.

#sleep token!vessel x reader #sleep token x you #sleep token smut #sleep token x reader #sleep token #vessel sleep token #sleep token vessel #sleep token iv #sleep token iii #iii sleep token #vessel x reader #vessel x you #vessel #sleep token band #sleep token worship

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bteezxyewriter12 · 8 months ago

Text

Here Without You

Pairing- Yoongi x Named Reader

Word count- 4k

Includes- Based on song Here without you by three doors down, angst, fluff, sex, missionary, oral, pussy eating, cum eating, cock riding, multiple orgasms

youtube

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @svnbangtansworld @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @marvelfamily3000

Gif Credit- Yooboobies

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝BTS Masterlist 📝Yoongi Masterlist

J POV

Opening the door to my apartment, silence greets me, my eyes tearing up

"Stop it", I whisper to myself, wiping my eyes

I need to stop crying all the time

It doesn't help

It doesn't bring him back

I just have to wait for him to come back

He will

When the tour's done, he'll be home again

Closing and locking the door, I go to our room to undress

I try to think of what I have to do before I can video call him

Undress

Shower

Cook something

Eat

Maybe watch a TV show or YouTube

Some thing to pass the time until he wakes up and can call me

He's in Texas now, so when he wakes up at 10 am, it's 1 am here

Luckily I don't have work tomorrow so I can sleep in

I've stayed up late every night since he went on tour three weeks ago so I can talk to him and I've gone to work exhausted

It doesn't matter though, he's worth it

Sighing, I throw my clothes in the hamper, then go to the bathroom to shower

--------------------------------

I'm laying on the couch with the TV on for noise when my phone rings

Seeing the caller as "naekkeo", I immediately pick it up, his beautiful face filling my screen

"Hi jagi", he says softly, his sad brown eyes gazing at me

"Hi naekkeo", I answer, tears flooding my eyes

This tour has been particularly hard for us

It's the first one after our wedding

And the first one where I can't come to any of the overseas concerts

Not with this video game designer job I have now

I started it last year and the boss is an asshole

He gave me such a hard time to take off for my wedding and honeymoon even though I told the interviewer that I needed certain days off and was guaranteed them at hiring

I'm working on a major game now and I have endless meetings

The thing is I can do everything remotely but my boss is being such an ass, demanding that I come in for meetings

I'm one of three people that come in physically for meetings

The people from other departments come in virtually

Because they have other bosses who aren't pricks

This is the first time I haven't been with him at all on the tour and it's affecting both of us

He's already been gone for three torturous weeks

"How was the concert last night?", I ask, forcing the tears back

"It was good", he answers, his eyes wet, "ARMYS had fun"

"Did you have fun?", I ask

He nods, biting his lip as the tears spill over his eyes

"Naekkeo", I say softly

"I'm sorry", he says as he cries, "I just miss you"

I shake my head, my own tears falling, "I miss you too baby. Don't be sorry"

"I can't....I can't do this jagi. I need you"

I nod, wiping my eyes, trying to calm him down, "I need you too baby. It's just for a little bit"

"It's another six weeks jagi. I can't spend that long without you", he sobs, "We've never been apart this long. It's killing me"

I know exactly how he feels

"Me too naekkeo but there's nothing we can do. You have to be on the tour. I have to work. I wish I could be there, I want to be there with you", I say, more tears falling, making his image blurry, "I don't know how it can happen baby. It's torture for me too naekkeo"

He shakes his head, "I don't want to be here without you. I dream about you every night and when I wake up and you're not there it's devastating"

"I want to be with you naekkeo", I whisper, "So much. I dream about you too Yoongi and I miss you more than anything"

"I can't handle it", he sobs, "I can't sleep without you. I hate knowing you're not backstage waiting for me. I hate not seeing your smile. Hearing your voice. Holding you. I don't know how I'm supposed to keep doing this tour"

I really have no idea how he's supposed to do it either

I don't know how I'm supposed to keep going without him

Video calls, it's not enough

Like he said, I need to be in his arms, I need to feel him, hug him, kiss him

I can't do that through a screen

"We just have to keep counting down the days baby", I tell him, "Just get through each day at a time"

It sounds lame but there's nothing else I can think of to make this better

It's hard for both of us

He just shakes his head, wiping his eyes

"Tell me about the concert naekkeo", I ask him in a effort to distract us both, "What's the set list? What was your favorite part about this concert?"

He smiles sadly, knowing exactly what I'm doing

But he nods and begins talking

--------------------------------

Three days later

I toss and turn in bed, trying it get comfortable

I can't sleep

I've been laying in bed for hours

I know it's because I wasn't able to talk to Yoongi tonight

BTS had a concert last night and when they have concerts he can't call me

I know they did a vlive too and he went to bed really late

He's probably exhausted and slept all day

I understand

I'm not mad, I know how he operates on concert days

On little to no sleep and he crashes all day the next day

I just miss him

As I'm turning again, I hear a noise

It sounds like it's coming from the front door

Like jiggling

I quiet down and listen hard

I hear the front door open and I'm immediately alert

The door shouldn't be opening

The only ones who have keys are me and Yoongi

And Yoongi is thousands of miles away

Carefully, I get up from the bed, tip toeing to the open door

Quietly, I leave the room, going out into the hallway, ready to run or fight if I need to

A figure steps into the long hallway from the living room and I gape, not sure I'm seeing who I'm seeing

"Yoongi?", I gasp

"Jagi", he whispers, starting to come to me

I don't think, my body immediately goes into a run towards him

I get to him in seconds, crashing into him as he picks me up, his lips immediately against mine

I kiss him desperately, so shocked he's here but so fucking happy and relieved

His arms hold me tightly, keeping me against him, my legs and arms locked around his waist and neck

I don't know how long we kissed for but for me it's never enough

When the kiss does end, I lean my forehead against his, just basking in him being home

"I missed you so much", I whisper

"I missed you jagi"

"How...how are you here naekkeo? Shouldn't you be in the U.S.?"

As much as I want him here, I don't want him to get into trouble

"I couldn't stay away from you a minute longer jagi", he tells me softly, "I just can't. I can't spend another six weeks away from you, Jo. I can't do it baby"

"I can't either naekkeo", I say, knowing exactly how he feels

Like everything is colorless, lifeless without him

"I think about you all day jagi. I miss you so fucking much it hurts. I hate that you're so far from me. I don't think I ever cried so much from being away from you"

I know

This whole time has been so fucking hard, so heartbreaking

I want him to be on tour, I know how much he loves performing, I just hate that he has to be away from me to do it

"It's the same for me baby", I tell him, "I just want you so much it hurts. I want you to be able to perform naekkeo but I don't want you to be away"

"I don't want to be away either jagi"

"What are we going to do baby?", I ask, worried

He's here now but he can't stay

He has the rest of the tour to do, his ARMYS are counting on him

"You're coming back with me", he says

"Yoongi", I start, "My job naekkeo"

The stupid reason I had to stay behind

There was no way my boss would let me take two months off to go with him

"I called him jagi", he tells me, "I spoke to your boss and after a lot of convincing and proving who I was, he agreed to let you have the time off for the rest of the tour"

I gape at him, in shock

My asshole boss caved to Yoongi?

What did Yoongi say to him?

"You won't be paid for the time jagi but it doesn't matter. We have enough money"

"That's your money Yoongi"

He shakes his head, "You keep saying that jagi but it's not. It's ours. You're my wife, the love of my life, everything that's mine is yours from even before we were married baby. You know you don't even have to work jagi but you insist on it"

Of course I do

I'm not a mooch

Just because he's rich doesn't mean I can spend his money

I was never with him for the money or the potential money as we met in high school and have been together since then, when we were both broke

He works hard, he sacrificed in the beginning of BTS, the money and success he has is because of him

I even offered to sign a pre-nup before we got married and he was actually offended I even suggested it

He declined it, shocking me and he always maintains that the money and everything that comes from it is ours

"Yoongi-"

"You know you don't jagi. You know I would give you anything you ask for, do anything for you", he says softly, "And I'm good with you wanting to work baby but I need you with me. I can't go back without you. Please jagi, say you'll come with me. Please"

"Of course I'm going to come with you", I whisper, running my fingers in his black hair, "Even if I had to quit, find another job after the tour, I would come naekkeo. I can't be apart from you any more baby. I need you"

His entire body relaxes as he breathes in relief

"Ok jagi. Thank you"

"Shh baby, don't thank me. Just like you, I'll do anything for you naekkeo, give you anything you want", I assure him, "I want to be wherever you are. And if you have to be in the U.S. I'm going with you"

He nods, "Ok jagi. I love you"

"I love you Yoongi"

His lips press against mine, my heart filling with utter joy that he's here

He carries me to our room, laying me on the bed, his lips never leaving mine

He moves next to me, my body turning to his, our arms around each other

I kiss him passionately, falling into him after weeks of missing him

His kiss is everything, his arms around me is heaven

He's my everything, my world

The kiss becomes heated, his tongue against mine, our hands desperately touching each other

"I missed you", I murmur between kisses while pulling his shirt up

Her separates from me long enough to get his shirt off mine following

"I missed you too, you have no idea"

"I do naekkeo, I missed you just as much"

He smiles his gorgeous smile right before kissing me, his hand slowly pulling down my pj pants and panties

Once they're off, I slide my hands down his sweatpants, getting them and his boxers off

I want him so badly

Three weeks of no physical contact is catching up to us

He moves on top of me, laying between my open legs, his warm smooth skin right against mine

His forehead leans against mine as I move my arms around him, my hand on his back, slowly running my palms up and down, feeling him

He moans softly, his skin trembling under my hands

I slide my hands up, moving over and along his strong shoulders, up his neck, sinking my fingers in his soft hair

We shift slightly, our lips against each other's, kissing desperately

I feel his length at my entrance and I drop my hands to his hips, pulling him closer to me

He takes the hint, his cock sliding inside, my pussy stretching around his thick shaft, pleasure tingling throughout every cell of my body

He whimpers into the kiss as he pushes in inch by inch, my pussy getting wetter and wetter, impaling me on his huge thick dick

My body arches from the pleasure, letting him slide in faster, bottoming out quicker, his head nestled against my spot

I shiver under him, squeezing his cock involuntarily hard

"Fuck", he groans, moving his arm around my waist and holding me against him, "You feel so good jagi. Always so tight for me. So wet"

"Mmm", I murmur, shivering against his lips that found their way to my neck, "And you feel good naekkeo. So hard, all the fucking time"

I purposely clench around his cock, his moan so hot as I enjoy the hard feeling of him buried inside me

"You make me this way jagi", he whimpers, "Fuck, anything you do turns me on. If I could stay inside you all fucking day, I would"

I giggle, kissing the top of his head, "I'd definitely let you baby"

I happen to really enjoy having him inside my pussy

Even if we're just laying here

We don't have to have sex

Cock warming is a huge thing with us, it's something we both love

He lifts his head from my neck, smiling, then kissing me softly

I fall into his kiss as he begins to move, slowly pulling out a little bit then slamming back inside

His head hits my spot, stars blasting in my vision, every nerve on my body alive and electrified

With every stroke he pulls out more and more, until he pulls out to his head, then buries back inside me

He moves at a good pace, fucking me into the bed and my head is in the clouds from the sheer pleasure

He press kisses against every inch of skin he can, my body trembling under his lips

His hand slides slowly up my body from my waist, up my arm, his hand taking mine, intertwining our fingers

I close my hand around his, holding on tightly

His other arm is next to my head, leaning on it as he moves, thrusting into my pussy again and again

"Yoongi", I moan in bliss, closing my eyes as I just feel him

Feel his body against mine, his skin against mine, his cock moving inside me

I'm loving every single second of it

Each smack against my spot brings me closer, my legs tighting around his waist, my pussy throbbing around his cock hard

I'm so hot and sweaty, panting for breath, my fingers digging into his back, my other hand clenching his

"You're so fucking beautiful", he whispers

I open my eyes to find him looking down at me, watching, love pouring from his eyes, "My God, I'm so fucking lucky you're mine"

I smile shyly, "No naekkeo, I'm so lucky you're mine. I love you"

"I love you Jo", he murmurs, his lips finding mine

His kiss combined with him sliding back into me, right into my spot, have me shaking and coming on his thick cock

"Yoongi", I moan between kisses, the intense pleasure washing over me, my pussy clenching around him hard

He moans, his hips not stopping, rolling into me, fucking me through my orgasm

As the pleasure fades, I relax into the bed, Yoongi kissing all over my body as he pulls out

My skin jumps with every press of his lips, his hot kisses feeling so fucking good

He kisses my lower stomach, my hand finding its way into his damp hair, tangling in the strands

He moves down slowly, now pressing kisses against my pussy, pushing my legs wide open

I feel his tongue on me, licking up slowly, my body shivering in bliss

He groans loudly, his tongue moving a bit faster, "So fucking good"

"Yoongi", I whine, feeling so fucking good

My god, I missed this, missed him

His hands grip my legs tightly, his tongue dipping into my hole, my pussy clenching down on it immediately

He licks out and up, his tongue rolling over my clit, my body arching from the increased pleasure swarming over me

His tongue slides back down, circling my hole before dipping in, shoving as much in as he can, then pulling out, sliding up and flicking my clit

He repeats the motions over and over, my cunt getting wetter with every move of his talented tongue

I know I'm completely soaking his face and I know he loves it

"My baby tastes so good", he groans, tongue swirling around my clit, driving me fucking insane, "My baby's pussy is so fucking good. So fucking sweet"

God, he's so hot

The way he's so into eating me out makes everything feel ten times better

I like knowing that he really enjoys doing it instead of feeling like he has to

His tongue move faster, all over my clit, my hips moving on their own, fucking his face, knowing that this is another thing he loves

"Yes baby, fuck yes", he urges, "Don't stop jagi"

His mouth wraps around my clit, sucking hard and I scream his name, squirting a little on his face

"Mmm", he moans, his mouth moving faster, slurping around my clit, the pleasure so fucking intense, my entire body is shaking and my head is empty

I tug his hair tightly, his next suck sending me straight into a mind shattering orgasm

"Yoongi!", I scream, coming on his face, his tongue driving right into my hole, his mouth sucking and swallowing my cum

I can't think, don't know which way is up, all I can do is ride the waves of bliss

It's so intense, so mind numbingly pleasurable

God, Yoongi is the king of oral

His licking slows down as I finish, his eyes already on me when I look down at him

He smirks, kissing my inner thigh, his tongue licking up my cunt one more time

"So good jagi"

I sit up just as he does and I move closer to him, kissing him hard

His tongue moves in my mouth as I climb in his lap, pushing him down on the bed

I follow, kissing him silly, running my fingers in his sweaty hair

He moves me over his length and I sit, taking him in immediately

I'm so wet, I slide all the way down his cock so easily, moving my hips to rock on him

His hands grab my ass, holding on as his hips lift, keeping his cock as deep as he can inside me while I grind on him

Breaking the kiss, I lean on his shoulders, starting to bounce softly on his cock

"Fuck jagi", he groans, his fingers digging into my skin, "Fuck"

"God Yoongi", I cry, his cock spreading my pussy so deliciously, tingles are running up my spine, "So good baby, so fucking good"

He nods, his eyes glued on me as I ride him faster, harder, "Fuck baby, that pussy looks so good on my dick. Creaming my cock so much, it's pouring out of you"

It is, I can feel it, all over this cock, all over his lap, the sticky feeling making me so horny

"Mmm do you hear how loud your pussy is?", he asks as I indeed hear how loud the squelching is, "Fuck, missed me this much?"

"Yes naekkeo", I moan, grinding down on his cock when I take him all in, his head rubbing my spot, making my body shiver, "Missed you so fucking much"

"Missed you too jagi", he groans

"I know", I smirk, his throbbing cock so stiff inside my cunt, "I feel how much you missed me"

He smiles his gorgeous smile, his eyes travelling from my pussy up my body to my face

"So pretty baby", he says softly, "So good at riding my cock"

I smirk, nodding, our skin slamming together loudly with every move, "You know how much I love riding you"

He nods

It's our favorite position, the one we fuck in the most

I don't know, my legs do get tired sometimes but it takes awhile for that to happen and when it does, I still don't stop

I can get him in so much deeper, bounce on him, rock or grind on his dick

And he can fuck me too so it's not just me always fucking him

The best part, for me, is that I get to watch him

Watch him in pleasure, watch him cum

He's so fucking beautiful it's insane

And that's what I do now

Looking down at him, watching him in pleasure, the sight such a fucking turn on

His eyes closed, his head pushed back into the pillow, his mouth slightly open, breathing hard, his hair wet with sweat, his fingers digging into my hips, sweat shortening on his skin as he whimpers my name, begging me to not stop in his sexy voice

He's so fucking stunning without even trying

And he's all mine

Leaning down, I whisper in his ear, "Cum for me naekkeo"

"Oh god, fuck", he groans, holding my hips hard and thrusting up, meeting my bounces, sliding deep inside

We move together, fucking each other, both of us getting fucked out and desperate to cum, moaning loudly

"Yoongi! Yoongi!", I cry, unbelievable ecstacy slamming into every crevice of my body as he fucks me into an earth shattering orgasm

"Fuck Joanne! Jagi!", he cries, his cock pulsing, his warm cum filling me, his body shaking under me

I force my eyes open and watch the complete ethereal sight of him orgasming

I never want to miss seeing this

I rock on his cock, making the pleasure last a little longer for both of us, our bodies relaxing as the bliss so slowly leaves

I move off him but don't go far, snuggling in his arm, my head on his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat

His fingers run slowly up and down my back, giving me shivers

"When do we have to leave tomorrow?", I ask

He looks down at me, smiling, "Don't worry jagi, I got a later flight. 5 pm"

"Oh thank God", I giggle

He laughs, "I knew you'd want to spend as much time in bed together as you can"

I raise my eyebrow, "As if you don't want that either"

"Of course I want that baby", he agrees, "We can slack off for awhile, then I'll help you pack and we can go"

"Back to Texas?"

"California", he answers

I nod, "Ok"

"Ok", he nods

I gaze in his beautiful dark brown eyes, reaching up and running my fingers in his hair, "I love you so much Yoongi"

"I love you so much Jo. So fucking much"

I know he does

I'm so lucky to have found someone who loves me as much as I love them

Yoongi is the best thing that has ever happened to me

He's my everything

I lean closer, my lips against his in a soft loving kiss

His arms hold me tightly as he kisses me back and I'm so glad he came back for me

#bts yoongi fanfic #min yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfic #suga fanfic #bts suga fanfic #bts yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #yoongi smut #bts suga smut #suga smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #Youtube

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grumpygwen23 · 3 months ago

Text

Twenty One Pilots hot take this, Twenty One Pilots hot take that…I want to hear y’all’s Twenty One Pilots stories and journeys. Is this because I want to share mine? Yes. Is that self-indulgent? Yes, but who cares.

Listen. I started listening to Twenty One Pilots almost exactly 10 years ago, right before Blurryface came out. My first concert was at the Quiet is Violent tour and I’ll never forget the feeling. I was 16 and moody at the time and despite how much I loved Vessel, I was obsessed with Regional at Best, Self Titled, and best of all, No Phun Intended. At the time, it was at least partially a pride thing, preferring their earlier music, but more than anything those songs spoke to me in a way nothing else did.

I loved Blurryface when it came out, and when Stressed Out started playing on the radio, I’m still proud to say I didn’t jump on the “overhyped” train. Obviously I hadn’t been around since the beginning, so I had no claim on Twenty One Pilots in any way, but it was still exciting and I felt proud of “my boys” in a way every time I heard it on the radio.

I went to my second show on the Emotional Roadshow tour in early 2016, right before I graduated high school. At the end of the show, Tyler said “we made it, we survived,” and I’ve held onto that with a vice grip ever since.

I went to my third show on the Trench tour in 2018 in the cheapest seats possible. Literally my back was against a wall. But it was spiritual in a way no other show has been.

After Trench came out though, I lost track of the plot. I honestly haven’t listened hardly at all to Scaled and Icy or Clancy yet. I know it wasn’t for the reason of “they’re too big now” or “the music is too poppy” because I’m still proud of them and so glad that others have found meaning and purpose in their music. For a long time, I didn’t know why I didn’t get back on with their music. Hell, I could barely even relisten to the older stuff. And I couldn’t figure out why (and honestly, didn’t think about it much).

Until this past week. See, I got my younger brother and sister hooked on Twenty One Pilots when I was in high school/college. They just went to their first concert and I’m so happy that they got to experience that. My brother has been badgering me for the past year to get onto listening to the new music and for some reason there was a wall there.

But a couple of days ago I started back at the beginning and listened to No Phun Intended and Self Titled. And every single song brought me back to being 16 again. I haven’t felt so viscerally reminiscent? Healed? I don’t know how to describe it. But I realized why I couldn’t listen to them before. Because for so many years, I was still on the slow slope of getting better. Backsliding constantly and hating myself because it felt like every time I thought I was getting better, I was back to where I started. And those songs made me feel so heavily, that it was like I was back there again. And the new stuff, with the Clancy storyline, it felt like a transition to healing that I wasn’t ready for yet. I was stuck in between, not wanting to slide backwards and not ready to move forwards.

But I can listen to those songs again, and by god it made me cry. I listen to Goner and remember teaching it to myself on the piano and screaming the lyrics in an empty house. But I don’t feel gone anymore.

10 years ago, I listened to Friend, Please and sang it to myself in the mirror because I felt like I had no one to say those words to me except Tyler Joseph. Yesterday, I sang along to it and for the first time didn’t feel like I was begging myself.

9 years ago, I sang along to Fairly Local and was stuck in the first verse. Yesterday, I sang along to it and was able to sing the second verse and believe it the first time.

5 years ago, I got a tattoo with my younger sister that says “Peace will win, Fear will lose” in my handwriting and hers. Yesterday, I realized that peace really has won.

I’m still not perfect. I still struggle. But I’ve grown a lot, and Twenty One Pilots has been there the whole time, even when I couldn’t handle hearing it.

I’m not entirely sure what I’m trying to say here. But to whoever else has listened to Twenty One Pilots for years and is also on their healing journey, I love you. To whoever has just started listening to them and has found an outlet and a resonance during tough times, I love you. To everyone in between, I love you.

Now, I’m finally working my way through the albums and catching up with the storyline, and I’m excited to keep seeing this through to the end.

All that to say: we made it. We survived.

#twenty one pilots #twenty øne piløts #please repost with your stories #if you feel so inclined #vessel #tøp #clancy #did i cry writing this?#yes #blurryface #trench

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mykoreanlove · 1 year ago

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Hey i was the one who asked for Taemin😅☺️

So my request is one where taemin and the reader (also famous one) where a couple and they casually meet at a restaurant in Paris after mnet concert so they spend the night talking (and confessing they miss each other)and the next day there are photos and videos of them and the fans start shipping them…

I appreciate very much🧡

Here we go - I hope u like it :)

“I am starving! Can we go now?”

Your manager grabbed your coat and ushered you out of the venue. “You are unbearable when you’re hungry. You know that?”

A small smirk left your lips as you remembered who used to say the same thing to you, too.

Taemin.

He even carried snacks with him in case you got hangry. Your boyfriend was such an attentive man, always making sure that you were taken care off. Well, he used to, as he was not your boyfriend anymore.

Taemin, the love of your life, turned into Taemin, public figure you tried your best to avoid.

“Get in”, he opened the cab door for you. Luckily, there were only a few fans waiting for you outside, making this exit fast and effortless. You waved your goodbyes and got into the cab, exhausted and starving.

“What did you think of the concert, y/n?”

You turned around to face him – your manager was a handsome man. He was righteous, smart and dependable; a valuable asset you couldn’t miss in your life. And yet, that asset caused a lot of trouble for you.

You shrugged your shoulders. “It was okay, nothing I haven’t seen before.”

He chuckled. “Are you still in a bad mood?”

His comment stung. Still.

You were in a very bad mood weeks ago when you had to call it quits with Taemin because he couldn’t handle his jealousy. You wanted to slap the shit out of him for breaking your heart like that. He wasn’t jealous because of fans or exes, no, he was jealous of your manager. The one you spent most of your time with, the one that was way too good looking to be around you all the time like that.

Feelings of anger and heartbreak turned into sadness and apathy, but still, your manager’s comment was uncalled for.

“I know you didn’t like him, but I did. And loosing him like that was very painful to me, so yes, I am in a bad mood. Still.”

You shut down this conversation and watched the moving scenery out of the window. You had always been fond of Paris, no matter the season nor time but something about Paris by night filled your heart with the most joy. The cab passed the Eiffel tower, which was illuminated beautifully.

“We’re here”, your manager explained. You didn’t understand, though. “At Eiffel tower? What do you mean?” He chuckled and opened the door for you. “There is a very famous restaurant up on the tower. Not a lot of people get the chance to dine there. However, you do, y/n.”

You couldn’t stop gasping as you went up on the elevator. You had been in this business for a while, but you were not used to extravagant and lavish things like this.

“Let’s take a photo for your fans”, your manager nudged you. Both of you looked into the massive mirror that was attached to the wall of the elevator and smiled warmly. After that you took a good look at the reflection – you were wearing a beautiful dress, going up to an exclusive restaurant with a handsome man. This whole situation was oozing romance and you almost felt like a princess as long as you ignored the wrong prince by your side.

As you entered the restaurant you were greeted by polite waiters, ushering you to your place. The place was immaculate – a modern and stylish interior with giant windows which made it possible to overview all of Paris.

“Fuck me”, you mumbled under your breath. This was breathtaking, marvelous even. Gratitude was flooding your body, paired with a bit of sadness as you would have loved to experience this with the right prince by your side.

The waiter rambled happily, explaining each and every landmark of France’s capital. “It is amusing that you’re coming here today, mademoiselle.”

“And why is that?” You loved talking to the old waiter, he was full of joy and appreciation for life.

“Because tonight we also have another popstar from Korea with us. Perhaps you know each other?”

Quickly, you glanced at your manager who simply shrugged his shoulders. You had no idea that one of your colleagues might be here as well. Who could it be?

“Do you want to go meet him?”

You nodded and followed him, eagerly anticipating who it could be. Your waiter led you to a separé where a bunch of people were enjoying their dinner joyously.

“Here, mademoiselle y/n, our other guest from South Korea is-“

Your heart sank instantly as you recognized him.

“Taemin.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck – the only thing that was going through your brain. On the outside, however, you appeared calm and collected. All those years of training definitely paid off, as you were able to mask any emotion.

Taemin however was caught off guard. He was dressed in all black, looking too good to be real. His hair black with some light accents, his eyes hooded from the alcohol and his lips slightly apart from the shock of seeing you.

“Hey everybody, funny seeing you here. Enjoy your meal, it looks delicious.”

You turned around and rushed out of the restaurant, brushing off your manager as you needed time alone to collect yourself.

Luckily, the elevator was still on your floor, so you got in and did your best to breathe. You didn’t want to cry, not here, not now. As the door was about to close a man jumped into the elevator, making it in in the last second before it shut for good.

“What the-“, you mumbled under your breath as you realized who it was.

“Y/N”, his voice still held the same amount of love for you as it did back then.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for a shoot. And then I went to a concert earlier and my crew wanted to come here, so I-“

“Not in Paris, Taemin. What are you doing here?”, you interrupted him.

He looked at you sweetly, making your insides churn.

“I couldn’t let you get away like that. I was in shock when you turned up at my table, honestly, I thought I was hallucinating you.”

You noticed a smile forming on your lips which you shut down immediately.

Stop getting your hopes up, you idiot.

“I wouldn’t have come if I had known that it was you. Sorry.”

Taemin grabbed your hand. “No, don’t be. Don’t be sorry, y/n. I am so grateful that you came over. What are the odds of us running into each other? Here? In Paris?”

His hand was warm, feelings of familiarity flooded you. The sound of the opening elevator doors ended this nostalgic moment for you as you pushed his hand off yours and went out.

Taemin ran after you and stopped you in your tracks.

“Y/N, please. Stay. I need to talk to you.” He was pleading, his eyes were sincere. “What is there to talk about?”

He sighed deeply. “I let you walk away once and that was the biggest mistake of my life. I’m not doing it again, y/n. I still feel the same way about you. Don’t you?”

There was this feeling again. In the pits of your stomach, you felt something vibrant, like a butterfly that survived the horrors of your heartbreak and still clung unto hope. Taemin took your hand into his, drawing small circles on it, knowing that this would calm you down. “Why don’t we go for a walk?”

You gave in and walked with him, your hand still in his, your heart already fluttering. Both of you remained silent, just casually walking side by side. You passed a garden and ended up at the river, appreciating the view from there, as well. “God, this city is the essence of beauty”, you admired out loud. Taemin’s eyes lit up as you were finally opening up to him.

“It is”, he agreed, “that’s why I always wanted to come here with you.” You mustered him suspiciously. “You did?”

He flashed you his brightest smile. “Of course, I did. I had it all planned out. We would stay in one of those beautiful hotels that has a direct view on the tower. And we would walk on the Champs Elysée, and I would buy you anything you want. We would eat all day, like crepes and macarons and we would be up all night, paying the city of love its proper homage. We’d fly back to Korea wearing those stupid I love Paris shirts and tell everybody about our trip and how amazing it was, because we’d been there together.”

His words were the sweetest, yet all you could feel was sadness. This trip was nothing but a fantasy that died in the moment you two broke up.

“I am sorry about what happened, y/n. I acted like a complete moron. I was just…. overpowered by my emotions and I couldn’t think clearly. Truth is, I miss you. I think about you every single day and I want you back. I want us back.”

You noticed a small tear running down his cheek and couldn’t help yourself, your own tears started flowing, as well.

Taemin grabbed you and pressed his forehead against yours. “Please don’t cry, my star. Let me make it up to you. I can fix this. I can fix this… if you let me.”

You slung your arms around him and hugged him tight. All the burden you had felt these last months finally fell off you and you were able to embrace whatever this thing between you was.

Taemin placed sweet kisses on the crown of your head, tightening his grip on you. “You know, my life has been so dark ever since we parted ways but now, I finally feel like the light is coming back.” He whispered into your ear: “My star is finally coming back.”

You looked up at him, touched by his words and vulnerability. Taemin understood you without words, he always did, and kissed you tenderly. This kiss felt like an explosion, a mixture of love, longing, and relief.

It was him who broke the kiss, chuckling happily as he repeated his endearing nickname for you over and over again.

“My star. My star. My star. I can’t believe it. I have you back. I finally have you back with me, y/n, my star, my love. I-“

You crushed your lips on his again, not wanting to terminate this moment just yet. “Easy tiger, we’re still in public.”

Ah, fuck.

You let go of him, slightly ashamed but still content. “Thank you for running after me, Tae.” He placed another kiss on your knuckles. “My pleasure, y/nnie.”

Your rumbling stomach interrupted this wholesome moment, reminding you that you were still starving. “It’s a shame I haven’t eaten before we left though”, you laughed out loud. Taemin’s hand searched for something in his pocket. You watched him pull out one of your favorite snacks, handing it to you. “I know this isn’t French cuisine but it’s better than nothing.”

Your eyes teared up again. “Did you carry this with you? Even after we broke up?” He nodded in agreement.

Fuck, I really love you. And you love me.

Taemin grabbed your hand. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

He smirked at you. “My hotel is right around the corner. Let’s go there and I’ll let you gaze at the Eiffel tower while I gaze at you.” You erupted in laughter. “Ewww, since when are you so cheesy?”

You woke up entangled in one another. Panicked, you recalled last night but calmness settled in as you realized that it was all true. You were back together and this time it would be different. Taemin was still asleep, looking like an angel to you. You noticed your phone lightning up and checked your messages, it was flooded with texts from your manager.

“Don’t even lie to me about last night, y/n. The internet is full of pictures of Taemin and you smooching it up. CALL ME!”

Panic flooded your body, you instantly shot up.

“My star”, Taemin mumbled half-asleep, “come back into my arms and sleep some more. Please.”

God, he was adorable but now was not the time.

You opened your socials and searched for the pictures. There they were – him and you kissing, him and you talking, him and you eating snacks.

Shit, this can’t be good.

“My staaaaar”, Taemin’s hands grabbed you and pulled him to him. You scanned the comments hastily.

OMG, I love them!!

They are so cute together.

In Paris? This is like a kDrama lol.

He is so hot! If I can’t be dating him, he should date someone as cool as y/n

My girl got lucky!!!

“Y/N.”

Taemin, his voice all hot and bothered in your ear, was ready to throw your phone out. “Is there anything you need to attend to right this instant, my star?”

Luckily, there wasn’t.

You placed your phone on the nightstand next to the bed and turned around, vanishing under the covers with your hot and heavy boyfriend.

“Nope, I’m all yours.”

** the end **

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lucy90712 · 1 year ago

Note

Gavi watching his s/o perfoming at her concert and him being so happy and proud of her.

WC: 2.2k Tonight is the night my dream finally comes true. I have always liked to sing and I've wondered if I could ever make it as a singer but for a long time that felt impossible. As it turns out it it's not impossible as I just released my first album and now I'm going to perform my first ever concert.

A few years ago my dream still felt impossible but then I met Pablo. We started off as friends after a mutual friend introduced us but we were both attracted to each other so things quickly progressed into us dating. A few months after we met we made things official and once we did we were pretty much inseparable. One day I was over at his place waiting for him to get home from training as he wanted us to spend as much time together as possible as he had a busy time coming up. While I was waiting I was making the both of us lunch and like I always do I was singing as I work but I was so in my own world that I didn't hear the door open and Pablo come in. As soon as he heard me singing and we talked about it a bit Pablo insisted that I at least try and make it as a singer.

Pablo did everything he could to support me as I started proper voice lessons and begin to write and record songs. I used some of the money I had saved to pay for all of that but Pablo also helped me out which I tried to tell him not to do but he insisted on helping me out. When things felt impossible and like a waste of time Pablo encouraged me by saying that he used to feel that way when he was younger but now he's achieved his dream because he kept working hard. He really wanted us both to be living our dreams and be that power couple who have both worked so hard to achieve their dreams all while supporting each other every step of the way. It was his positivity and belief in me that kept me going even when things were hard.

After a lot of hard work behind the scenes I released my first song which a few people listened to but it wasn't a success at all. That didn't deter me though I kept going and trying to find my style which eventually I did and that was rewarded by the song somehow blowing up on tiktok which brought more attention to all of my other music. Once more people started to listen to my music I made sure that I kept them interested by putting out more music as quickly as I could. Eventually things became more stable and I had created a proper fan base which was doing nothing but growing. Once it got to this point Pablo used my song in his Instagram story and a few weeks later we went public with our relationship which helped me a lot too. He offered his help from the beginning but I wanted to make it on my own as that's the only way I'd feel like my success was my own.

Since then I've been working hard every day and I even quit my job as I was starting to make money from my music and Pablo said he would help support me if I needed it. Last month I released my first full album and now I'm preparing for my first concert right where it all started in Barcelona. After this I have a small tour around Spain but I just had to start here in Barcelona so that Pablo and the rest of my friends could attend.

I have been at the venue for a few hours already because I had to be here to do sound check as well as many other things but the main reason I got here so early is because I'm so nervous. I barely slept last night because I was so worried that no one would turn up even though I know exactly how many tickets have been sold. Also running through my mind was the thought that everyone might hate my voice as I know I'll sound different in real life even though I don't use auto tune. We had sound check first which took my mind off things for a bit but then I was back to sitting around until rehearsals which allowed me to go back to thinking about everything that could go wrong. After rehearsals I had a few hours until the start of the show which was supposed to be for me to get ready but I started it by sitting and having a panic attack.

"Are you ok my love?" Pablo asked as he poked his head round the door

"Yeah I'm fine what are you doing here so early" I said

"I wanted to come and see you because I knew you'd be nervous and I can tell that you are not having a good time so its a good thing I'm here" he said

"Now tell me what's going through your mind" he said

"I just don't want everyone to hate me I mean what if I'm not as good as they thought I was" I said

"If anyone thinks that then they're crazy because I know nothing about singing but you have always sounded like an angel to me even when you're not trying so everyone will love you don't stress yourself over that" he said

"I'm definitely not that good but thank you" I laughed

"Aren't you supposed to be getting ready?" He asked

"Yeah I am" I replied

"Then what are you waiting for you I know I love watching you get ready" he smiled

He wasn't lying so I grabbed all of my makeup stuff and started to get myself ready while Pablo sat behind me watching in the mirror as his arms clung around my waist. While I was concentrating he just kept talking which was actually really helpful as it kept me distracted and made me laugh every now and then. Once my makeup was done it was time for hair and Pablo being the good boyfriend he is helped me section my hair and hold strands out the way while I did the style I had planned. He then helped me into my outfit while I put my earpieces in as there was only a few minutes until I was supposed to go on.

Once I was ready Pablo grabbed my hand and we walked backstage together. That's when I started to hear the crowd and things suddenly felt so much more real than they did earlier. All of those people are here for me which is such a crazy concept and slightly overwhelming to think about. Pablo must've been able to tell that I was getting nervous again as he spun me round to face him and placed his hands on my waist. He held me close to him and had me look directly into his eyes which made it feel like we were the only two people there which really calmed my anxiety.

"You've got this cariño just go out there and give it your all I will be right there the whole time so just look at me if you feel anxious" he said

"Thank you amor" I whispered back

With that he let go of me and gave me one last kiss before running off to make it to his seat. I jumped up and down a bit and to hype myself up before finally walking out onto the stage. The noise was almost deafening as people in the crowd screamed and cheered for me. I couldn't help but smile knowing that there was this much excitement just to hear me sing I mean I'm not anything special I'm not like Taylor Swift but I sure felt like it walking out into that stage. To help settle myself I spoke to the crowd a bit and I looked for Pablo who was sat with some of the boys right in my eye line.

When I finally started my set I begun to feel a whole lot more confident and I really got into it. I was completely in my own world feeling myself as I sung all of my songs and did all of the dances I had worked on with a choreographer. Every now and then I looked over to Pablo who was singing along every time I looked over without a care in the world which gave me even more confidence to do the same. All of the boys looked like they were having a good time but when I caught Pablo's eyes and saw him give me the biggest smile I could feel his proud he was. For a second I wondered if that's how he felt when I did the same for him whilst he was playing but I couldn't think about it for too long as the show had to go on.

"I have one last song for you all I'm sure you can guess which one it is but before I start I want to thank a special someone who's actually here watching me today" I said

"Pablo thank you for believing in me every step of the way if you hadn't of convinced me to give singing a try there is no way I'd be stood here today I owe all of this to you so thank you for helping me achieve my dream" I continued

As I performed my last song I kept my eyes on Pablo who had tears in his eyes which were obvious even from a distance. This song was one of the first ones I ever wrote and it has always been his favourite of mine so it was only right to dedicate it to him and sing it as if we were the only people mind the room. The whole night had been magical but this moment made me feel like I was dreaming I could faintly hear the crowd in the background as I rounded up this amazing experience by sending a kiss to Pablo who sent one right back. Before leaving the stage I thanked everyone for coming and thanked the small team I had helping me as they deserve some of the recognition too.

Once I got off stage and back to my dressing room all of the adrenaline left my body and suddenly I was exhausted but also all of the emotions caught up with me and nothing could wipe the smile off my face. The fact that I'd just done my first concert finally sunk in and I felt an overwhelming sense of pride in myself this is such a big occasion and could mark the start of a whole new life for me especially as I leave tomorrow for my next show in Madrid. After a few minutes of alone time there was a knock on my dressing room door so I went to open it thinking it might be my manager coming to check on me but instead I was greeted by Pablo and everyone else who came holding bouquets of flowers. There was so many flowers that once they were handed to me I couldn't see anything so I had to put them all down in the small sofa in the room. I thanked all the guys for coming and for the flowers and they all congratulated me on my performance before they all left so that I could be with Pablo. It only took a matter of seconds before Pablo smashed his lips onto mine.

"You were so amazing out there" he said giving me a kiss in between each word

"Thank you it felt amazing I've never felt such a rush in my life" I said

"I knew you'd have the best time" he smiled

"Also you didn't have to say all that about me this is your success all I did was steer you in the right direction" he said

"I know but you've supported me whenever I wanted to give up and you posting with my songs has helped me a lot I really do owe you a lot because I wouldn't be here without you" I said

"Thats sweet of you to say but I think you were destined for this life I'm glad I get to be a part of it and see you live your dream" he said

"You're going to make me cry" I laughed

"Don't cry my love just be happy you achieved a big thing today you should be smiling and so proud of yourself" he said

We stayed at the venue for a bit longer before Pablo drove me back to his place so we could spend the night together. Along the way he got me to order whatever food I wanted for dinner was I hadn't eaten since lunch and was starving. We spent the night watching movies together on the sofa eating a lot of food all of which Pablo shouldn't have but he told me it was fine as it was a special day which only made the smile on my face bigger if that was even possible.

#gavi imagine #gavi imagines #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi imagines #gavi #gavi oneshots #gavi x reader #pablo gavi #football imagine

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seriouslycromulent · 9 months ago

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The Surprising Reason John Larroquette Took His Career-Defining Role on 'Night Court'

The comedy ninja reveals all this week's 'Parade' cover story.

MARA REINSTEIN

UPDATED:JAN 19, 2023

Get in a car and drive about 30 miles north of Portland, Oregon, into southwest Washington. That’s where you’ll find actor John Larroquette.

He and his wife, Elizabeth, have lived on a piece of rural property for about five years. He collects books and likes to narrate plays in his home recording studio. Sometimes the couple head into the city to try new restaurants and go to the theater and concerts. “It’s really beautiful,” he says. “And at my age, it’s time to slow down and be out somewhere.”

In fact, Larroquette is so fond of his far-from-Hollywood lifestyle that not too long ago, he considered himself retired from the business with a fulfilling career and a room full of trophies to show for it. Never did he think he’d return to grueling TV work, let alone reprise the very role that made him a household name.

Guess what happened next?

Yup, Larroquette, 75, is suiting back up as wise-cracking, endearingly smarmy lawyer Dan Fielding in a new version of the irreverent sitcom Night Court (premiering Jan. 17 on NBC). Set decades after the 1984-92 original, it still chronicles the colorful cast of characters passing through the New York City after-hours courtroom. But now, the Honorable Abby Stone (Melissa Rauch), the daughter of Judge Harry T. Stone (Harry Anderson), bangs the gavel.

Fielding starts the series as a process server, though not for long. “As an actor, I thought it would be an interesting idea to revisit a character 35 years later in his life and see what happened to him,” Larroquette says. “I can’t do the physical comedy and jump over chairs anymore, so my conversations with the producers were about how to find the funny.”

Call it the latest unexpected turn for a seasoned star who began his professional journey as a DJ for “underground” radio in the 1960s, moved from his native New Orleans to Los Angeles to jumpstart his career, once took a gig in exchange for marijuana, played a Klingon in the third Star Trek movie and completed rehab to kick his heavy drinking—all before his very first audition for Night Court in 1983. After the sitcom’s last episode, he won his fifth Emmy (for the drama The Practice) and a 2011 Tony for the Broadway revival of How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying. He and Elizabeth, wed for 47 years, have three grown children.

“I honestly wish I had a tape recorder going at all times because he’s led such an interesting life and has such wonderful stories,” marvels Rauch, his co-star and a Night Court executive producer. “He’s super-quick, funny and definitely tells it like it is.”

Exhibit A? His interview with Parade, in which he discusses life and death, and everything in between.

Did you sign on to the series right away or was it a tough sell?

When Melissa [Rauch] presented the idea to me, I immediately said, “No thank you.” I didn’t like the idea of being compared to my 35-year-old, younger self. These conversations went on for a year. Then, one day, she told me that she wanted to be on-camera as well, so I decided to try and do it. We ended up pitching the show together, and it got picked up. You know, in New Orleans, there’s a French word called “lagniappe,” which means “a little bonus.” That’s what I consider myself. She’s the heart of the show.

Sadly, a few of your co-stars—including Harry Anderson and Markie Post—have died in recent years. What was it like being on the set without them?

Very emotional. Harry passed away in 2018, but it’s still a tender spot in my heart because he and I were together for a long time even outside of work. Markie and I were very close, and we had exchanged a few emails about the show before she died [in 2021]. She was a big cheerleader for it. And Charlie [Robinson, who played the clerk “Mac”] died when we were shooting the pilot last year. I saw him a lot because we both love the theater. Being on the set—I don’t say this glibly—but it was like seeing dead people. I’d always remember how I had this bizarre and completely sincere family for nine years.

Going back to the 1980s, why did you originally take the Dan Fielding role?

It was a paycheck. This was 1983, and I was still a journeyman actor going from job to job. I was a regular on a series in the ‘70s [Baa Baa Black Sheep], but then I took a few years off to do some extremely heavy drinking. After I got sober and realized I wasn’t going to die, I thought, “What am I going to do?” I had been in a pretty big [1981] movie called Stripes with Bill Murray. I read for Ted Danson’s role in Cheers.

Wait, how far did you get in the Sam Malone casting process?

Oh, I just walked in and did a cold reading along with every other 32-year-old actor at the time. But then I auditioned for the judge in Night Court. The producers asked me to read for this other role of Dan Fielding and I said, “Sure.” Even if I hated the role, I would have taken it because I needed to make money to help pay the rent and support my family and be a responsible member of society. It was luck that I really liked it. Then I got lucky again when NBC picked up the show as a mid-season replacement.

During the height of the show’s popularity, you earned four consecutive Emmys for your performance. That must have felt beyond validating.

Obviously, being acknowledged by your contemporaries was an incredible honor. I don’t say that blithely. It was a remarkable, remarkable feeling. And I was up against some formidable talent—mainly all those guys from Cheers.

Why do you think the character was and is so appealing?

I think because he allowed the audience to know that he wasn’t a bad guy. He was more like a feckless buffoon. He also really wanted to be loved. As a matter of fact, in our pitch, we screened an old scene of Fielding in a hospital bed telling Harry, “I don’t have a life; I have a lifestyle. Nobody has ever said, ‘I love you.’” So when we find Fielding again, he’s loved and lost. And Harry’s daughter forces him out of his cave. It’s a real full-circle moment.

Let’s go back to your own start. Did you have any music skills coming out of New Orleans?

Well, I started playing clarinet in third grade, then I moved to the saxophone in the 1960s. But I euphemistically say that I could talk better than I could blow. So, I took that sax out of my mouth and became a DJ and started using my voice as much as I could. I’ve always loved the analog aspect of audio. I still have some reel-to-reel tape recordings and old microphones.

Is that how you ended up narrating the opening prologue for [the 1974 horror classic] The Texas Chainsaw Massacre?

No, no, that wasn’t through any kind of past work. In the summer of ‘69, I was working as a bartender at a small Colorado resort in a little town called Grand Lake because I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life. [Director] Tobe Hooper happened to be in town and we became friendly. Flash forward four years, and I found myself in L.A. collecting unemployment checks and trying to decide if I wanted to be an actor. Tobe heard I was in town and asked for an hour of my time to narrate something for this movie he just did. I said, “Fine!” It was a favor.

Per the Internet, he gave you a joint in lieu of payment. True?

Totally true. He gave me some marijuana or a matchbox or whatever you called it in those days. I walked out of the studio and patted him on his back side and said, “Good luck to you!” Now, I have also narrated the consequential films and did get paid. You do something for free in the 1970s and get a little money in the ‘90s. I’m not a big horror movie fan, so I’ve never seen it. But it’s certainly the one credit that’s stuck strongly to my resume.

But you’ve appeared on the big screen plenty of times. Did you have movie-star aspirations following all your TV success?

The movies I’ve done are mostly forgettable. Blind Date��[from 1987] is an exception, but that’s because of Bruce Willis and Kim Basinger. And Blake Edwards directed it. It was funny. But my face is not made for a really big screen. It’s a broad, clown-like face. It’s good for a TV two-shot. And you ride the horse in the direction that it’s going and television was always right there and offering me stuff, so I kept doing that.

You also performed in a musical for the first time in How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying in 2010. How was that change of pace?

I was hesitant to do it because I had never sung and danced on stage. I was convinced I was going to be fired in the first two or three weeks. I’d keep going in my head, “five, six, seven, eight!” just trying to get the steps down. But I loved the lifestyle of being a stage actor in New York. I loved working with Daniel Radcliffe, and we became fast friends. It got to a point where I couldn’t wait to get to the theater and try it again that night. If you’re given the opportunity to do something that may be a stretch, I think it’s important to try and see if you can pull it off.

Can you talk a bit about your personal life? You seem a little reclusive.

Reclusive isn’t accurate, but I’m definitely an introvert. Elizabeth and I met doing the play Enter Laughing and got married in 1975. She puts up with me, and you can’t ask for much more than that. Our kids are grown. My daughter Lisa is a graphic designer and my son Jonathan has had a podcast for the past 17 years called Uhh Yeah Dude. And my youngest son, Ben, is a musician who graduated from the Berklee School of Music. He actually composed the new theme music for Night Court. They’re all lovely, and I love them dearly.

That’s quite a professional and personal success story, no?

You know, considering where I’m from and the kind of culture I grew up in, yes. I’ve been very successful in my chosen field. And I’m grateful for having done that because there were times when I thought I would not live, much less have a career. It’s nothing to be taken for granted. But I’m very old now. Three quarters of a century. I’m sort of playing with house money from now on, regardless of what happens.

Sorry, but 75 isn’t very old!

Yes, it’s old. It’s old. Please. It’s old. There are certainly people who live longer, but I can go down the list of wonderful friends and coworkers who are now deceased. One being Kirstie Alley, my costar in [the 1990 comedy] Madhouse, who was younger than I am. She was a lovely person, and so funny. There are only a few more exits on the freeway and you’ve got to choose one. But I’m not afraid of the hereafter and I don’t bemoan it. It’s been an interesting ride, and all rides eventually end.

Do you have any sort of words to live by?

As corny as it sounds, take things one day at a time. You know, I learned when I stopped drinking at age 32 that all you have is right now. Use the present in your life as much as you can.

Source: https://parade.com/celebrities/john-larroquette-night-court-cover-story

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My thoughts (please feel free to ignore):

I'm sure someone in the fandom has already posted this interview John did last year with Parade magazine when the new Night Court premiered. But I can say that it's new to me, so I'm sharing it in case it's new to someone else too.

I apologize for the highlighted purple sections above. That's just me marking the parts of the interview that resonated with me the most.

I don't know about anyone else, but some parts of his answers to the questions made me feel kind of sad. Partially because he's clearly experiencing grief at the loss of his friends. And partially because John himself may not be with us for much longer (although I hope I'm wrong and he beats Betty White to 100).

But I was talking to my mother about some of his answers, and she said that as someone who has reached an age milestone herself, she understands his perspective. And I guess I do too.

It's important to remember that in any other profession, John would likely be retired by now. So we should really be grateful for any roles he takes or public appearances he makes, and hope that his days ahead are filled with the calm, joy and laughter that he so rightly deserves.

#john larroquette #new night court #night court #fandom #interview #parade magazine #night court 2023 #bittersweet

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averagewriter-inthedark · 2 years ago

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Daughter of Rock N Roll 🎸| Pete Mitchell Imagine/TGM Imagine

Takes place after the events of TGM

TGM Masterlist | Read ‘It’s A Long Way To The Top’ & ‘The Rockstar, Her Husband, & Their Dagger Ducklings’ first!

Characters & Pairings: Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x 80s Rockstar!reader (romantic), Bradley Bradshaw x reader (mother/son-type relationship), Dagger Squad (platonic) Hondo (platonic)

Content Warnings: Fluff, slight profanity, flirtatious banter | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 3.3k

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Premise: when the squad discovered their former Captain was married to one of the most recognizable voices of rock n roll music, one could imagine the many questions they had. There’s always something new to learn about Y/n L/n-Mitchell. Or, how most of the world would know her by, the Daughter of Rock ‘N’ Roll.

Note: Y’all I can not say enough how happy it makes me you guys love me famous!reader x dagger squad pairing works! The rockstar one was my first one and since then I’ve had so many requests to do more! I have I think four in my inbox with Rooster, Coyote & Fanboy so I’m so excited to get started on those. Again I just as you be patient with me if you sent in a request! I’m approaching my last quarter of school so finals are around the corner and I am focused on passing you know 😅 but once summer hits I should be posting more frequently! 🤍

————————————

“So you met Elvis?”

The question sounded the same as it always did when asked. Awe. Wonder. Amazement. All the words that were similar. Always was it met with a smile from Y/n, the memory surfacing in her mind as clear as though it had taken place yesterday.

“I did,” she thanks Pete as he hands her a beer, scooching on the couch to allow him space beside her. Scattered around the bonfire were the daggers either in chairs or couches, nursing their own drinks as the sun descended on the horizon. The dogs were with them too. Ice laid beside Y/n and Mav’s feet, Bella found a cozy spot within Javy’s lap, and Goose took claim to the spot beside Bradley.

“Long time ago. It was 1976–I was twelve years old and my parents had gotten all of us tickets to see him perform in Atlanta. It was a great show,” she smiled fondly at the memory, “then afterwards we left the venue and happened to run into him. I was starstruck as you can imagine. There he was dressed in his red outfit. Hair slicked back and dazzling smile. And I don’t remember asking him to sign my program but I guess I did. All I can remember is him asking what I wanted to be when I grew up—to which I said, “I wanna be a rockstar.’”

Chuckles echo around, the pilots all leaning in their seats with eyes full of fascination. Y/n brought a finger to her chin, deep in thought, “he laughed and handed me back the program saying, ‘Don’t lose that dream, little one.’ Like my mom I was devastated the next year when he died….but I always remembered those words. To never lose my dream.”

Fanboy gestured inside the house, “how’d you get his guitar?” He was referring to the one mounted on the wall of guitars with the icons signature. It was the only one on what the dagger squad liked to call the ‘Guitars of Fame’ to be either once owned by a renowned musician or signed by one. Y/n had one from Prince in her collection as well as a Stratocaster signed by all the members of Queen.

“Charity auction. Back in the late 90s I wanna say it was,” she looked to Pete to see if he could confirm if she was right. At his nod she added, “The reason I wanted it was because it was the one he used at the concert I went to. So when I look at it, it brings me back to that moment of meeting him and as a reminder I achieved that dream he told me never to let go of.”

Javy whistles, causing Bella to perk up in his lap. “That’s so cool.” Murmurs of agreement sound with him, Phoenix crossing her legs in her lap as she asks, “is there anyone you’ve met or worked with who’s been a mentor to you and the band?”

“Diana Ross and Dolly Parton,” the woman doesn’t hesitate. “Gosh I love those women. Not only were they some of our biggest inspirations but they pretty much took us under their wing when we first started out. Even though we were in a completely different genre than both of them, they were like our ‘moms’ in the industry.” She put quotes around the word mom. “You have to remember we were all 14-15 when we were discovered. Being that young made us very vulnerable. Producers would try to take advantage of us—by not giving us the proper cuts or working us like dogs. Artists who’d been in the game longer were envious of the recognition we were getting.”

“You must never forget who you are,” Dolly’s voice echoed, wiping away the lone tear that had fallen from a young Y/n’s eyes. “The media are always going to try to put out the worst image of you. And you must never give them that satisfaction of bringing you down. As long as you know who you are here—,’ she points to her heart, “then they can never take it away from you.”

Y/n paused to sip her beer before continuing, “Dolly and Diana, were and still to this day, the best supporters of our career and always made sure we knew they were there to help if we ever needed them. Whether it be confronting an executive for unfair treatment or if we were at parties or award shows and felt uncomfortable. Saints they are. Absolute saints.”

A few more minutes passed of Y/n praising the two legends of music before they ventured off into discussing moments of Y/n’s career. Rooster of course knew everything so he didn’t ask anything, but would offer insight from time to time. “C’mon Y/n/n,” he waved a hand dramatically, “y’all’s Super Bowl performance is considered one of the best halftime shows and you think it was lackluster? I beg to differ.”

“I have to agree on Rooster with this one, honey,” Pete leans back into the sofa, arm going round her back. The rockstar scoffs, playfully rolling her eyes.

“It was raining the whole time!”

Rooster nearly stands from his seat, “That’s what makes it so iconic! You guys did that shit while it was raining down on you.”

“Yeah and I was shitting my pants the whole time thinking one of us was going to get electrocuted,” Y/n had to laugh. “And when I saw the same thing happen to Prince at his Super Bowl I thought, ‘Oh God I’m getting deja vu.’”

Payback shakes his head with a laugh, “Man I remember watching that live. I wanted to be there so bad—be in that crowd. You guys were phenomenal—and like Roo said, it really was the best performance of all time.”

Y/n gives a shy smile when they all agree, “You know one thing, I was really grateful I chose a black outfit to perform in. I was not going to have a repeat of 1992 with the whole white tank top scandal. Like it was even a scandal,” she makes a face, thinking back to that God awful interview with Diane Sawyer. “My goodness it’s not like I planned for the rain that night. And my tits were covered—,” she laughs at the wide-eyed expressions of some of the guys, “it wasn’t like I was letting them out free. But anyways you know how the media is when shit like that happens.” Y/n turns slightly to look at Pete, “You didn’t care, did you?”

He immediately shakes his head. “No. And even if you wanted to go topless it was your choice. Not my place to stop you.” His answer makes her let out a sigh of content.

“You’re just so perfect you know,” she pats his cheek before kissing it. The others watch on fondly, though Rooster makes a playful gag sound.

“Disgusting.”

“I’ll send you to timeout, Bradley.”

Eventually after some time the topic of Y/n’s name in the industry was brought up. The Daughter of Rock N Roll. All through her career people told Y/n how when she sang she sounded what an angel rebelling from God to be a rockstar would sound like. The epiphany of rock n roll, Y/n was dubbed it’s daughter by Rolling Stone magazine at the brink of the 90s after dominating the 80s.

“How’d you find out?” Bob’s eyes were wide with curiosity. They all were, leaning forward in their seats to hear better as the woman began to explain.

“We had just won our fifth Grammy,” she sets the picture, “the next day was the kickoff to the American leg of our world tour so we were barely paying attention to the press, tabloids, media, you know. I was running late that morning—can’t remember exactly why but when I got to the venue Ronnie was running at me with a magazine in her hand…”

“Oh my God, have you seen the news?!” Ronnie’s high pitched yell had the singer wince.

“Girlfriend, I woke up not even twenty minutes ago. What happened—who died?” Suddenly Y/n serious, fearful that someone they knew had passed. Being in the industry for over ten years made them face the loss of many friends they had accumulated along the way.

The face Ronnie makes sends relief, “no one died. But look—!” She pushes the magazine towards her friend’s face, Y/n scrambling to not drop her Walkman and coffee she was holding as she tried to grasp the object. “Look at what Rolling Stones have named you!”

Removing the sunglasses off her face lightening fast, no longer caring she spilled an entire cup of coffee she’d just purchased, Y/n let out a audible, “no fucking way,’ when her eyes read over the big letters on the cover of Rolling Stones Magazine.

“Y/n L/n is the Daughter of Rock ‘N’ Roll—like Micheal Jackson as the King of Pop and Aretha Franklin crowned the Queen of Soul, the powerhouse and voice behind Y/n & The Romantics from Atlanta, Georgia has become widely associated among critics and fans across the globe as the Daughter of Rock ‘N’ Roll right behind Elvis as its King.

“Did you ever think that would happen?” Payback’s question brought Y/n out of the memory.

“Never,” briefly she look into the house where the framed Rolling Stones magazine hung on the wall, “I was very shocked when I heard the news. Never did it occur to me I would have a title and I would say it’s the biggest honor I have as an artist in this industry. And nowadays you see titles being thrown around all the time, but back then it happened once in a blue moon. So when I heard the news I was like, ‘no fucking way,’.”

“See what I don’t understand is,” Jake cuts in with an odd expression. “How come they waited this long to induct you and the band into the Hall of Fame? To be honest y’all should’ve been in it ages ago.”

“Agreed,” Fanboy tips his beer.

Rooster raises his own, “amen to that.”

Y/n hesitates to answer, conflicted in her eyes that when she turns to look at her husband he could see she was unsure to answer. Pete gives her an encouraging nod causing her to exhale deeply.

“To, how do folks put it…spilling the tea?” Rooster snorted at the phrase, earning a scolding look from Y/n. “Don’t tease me. The whole thing with the Hall of Fame wanting this long is because they at one point—I think ten years ago—wanted to induct just me because of all the solo work I had done since we split up. But I wasn’t on board with that. If they were gonna induct me, they were gonna induct me as part of Y/n & The Romantics. All of us,” she emphasized. “We were a group for thirty years when we split. They have been my best friends since childhood—my ride or die. There was no way in hell I was going to accept an induction to the Hall of Fame without them.”

After a while of digressing that shocking news Javy decides to ask, “What was it like doing the USA for Africa? All those legends together—I still get chills everytime I watch the music video.”

Y/n lights up at the mention of ‘We Are The World’, “it was amazing. Nothing could really put into words what that day was like. When our manager approached us about it we were like, ‘Quincy Jones, Micheal Jackson and Lionel Ritchie want us on their song?’ We didn’t believe it. Then we got to the studio and oh my God,” she makes a gesture with her hands, “I was at a loss for words. Micheal was the first to greet us—it wasn’t the first time we’d met him but still, it was Micheal fucking Jackson. I met a lot of my close friends that day, Micheal included. Cyndi Laupher, Bruce Springsteen, Stevie Wonder, Tina Turner, Steve Perry, Kenny Loggins, Diana Ross.” Y/n lists off more of the artists featured on the track, each one making the daggers jaws drop even more. “They had paired me with Cyndi and I’ll never forget us hitting that note together. We both high fived afterward just absolutely in awe of the other.”

“Weren’t you also in the one they did in 2010 for Haiti?” Bob adjusts his glasses when the thought pops into his head.

The woman nods, “I was. Jaime Foxx had reached out to me personally about it and I immediately agreed. It was hard—especially with it only being a year since we lost Micheal and then of course the reason we were doing it. But it was just as amazing as it was twenty-five years earlier.”

“Do you still keep in touch with a lot of them?” Fanboy asks.

“Here and there,” she answers truthfully. “Whenever I run into them at events we briefly catch up. Of course nowadays with social media it’s more accessible to send a direct message if you don’t have their number. Most of the time I’m in contact with old friends and colleagues when we collaborate or plan to meet up at shows.”

“Who are the people you talk with the most?” Jake pitches in.

“Oh, Cyndi, Janet, Kenny, Lionel,” she lists off. “Bono from U2 and I have been friends for ages so I talk with him a lot. Lenny Kravitz is also someone I try to see often—as well as Chili and Tboz from TLC. We bonded with them since they are also from Atlanta. ”

Phoenix tilts her head, curiosity in her eyes, “Are you and the band collaborating with anyone for your next album?” Instantly Y/n perks up, a smile threatening to form and give herself away. Nat catches it and teases, “I swear to secrecy if you tell us.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” Y/n laughs when Rooster pouts, throwing his hands out as he whines, “C’mon. When have I ever leaked your songs or upcoming projects? I think I’ve done pretty good—my track record is going on thirty years, you know.”

Pete laughs with his wife as the daggers begin to tease their fellow aviator. “Better to be safe than sorry, Bradley.” This earns the Captain a light slap on the chest.

“Oh stop,” she playfully scolds. “I’m only teasing.” She returns her attention back to Nat. “I can’t say much because a lot is still in the works….but, I can confirm we’ll be doing a feature with Lenny Kravitz.” Gasps and ‘holy shit’ fill the patio, Javy and Danny on the brink of losing their minds.

“Lenny fucking Kravits!”

“Oh it’s gonna be a hit. Number one on Billboard I’m telling ya.”

By now it was getting cooler outside. The sky was dark with stars twinkling above. Instead of having someone go inside to grab drinks for everyone the group decided to migrate into the living room. Pete distinguishes the fire, Y/n hauls the dogs in with Nat and soon the couches and chairs are occupied.

Jake rubs his jaw, “what would you say is the best advice someone has given you? And who,” he adds, “if you’re open to saying.” Y/n takes a moment to think about her answer. To be honest, she’d received lots of great advice in the 40 plus years of being in the industry from an array of people. There of course was Dolly and Diana who always gave a second opinion whenever needed. There was Michael, who told her to always have fun no matter what life threw at her.

“A long time ago,” she humed, tilting her head back to stare at the ceiling while caressing the bottom of her chin. “I wanna say early 90s, I met Tony Bennett at an award show. Probably Grammy’s or Billboard, but he had approached me just before the show ended and we got to talking. I can’t remember exactly what was said in the conversation but I this always stuck with me,” pausing Y/n places her hand back in her lap. “He said, ‘Cherish the big moments—the milestones, the accomplishments, the things that will leave a legacy long after you’re gone..but also cherish the small moments. The ones you will look back on and remember fondly. As a time you were living your life as if the day was your last.’”

The words hit each of the officers. All taking it in as though Y/n was the one offering them the advice. Something about it resonated with each of them—thinking about their lives and careers. Where often they forgot to cherish little moments because they were overshadowed by big ones. An example for Natasha would be the one time her father gifted her flowers for when she made Lieutenant. Or when Javy’s brother surprised him for his college graduation. The big milestones were the reason the little things even happened.

Then you had all those times the squad would meet up at the beach for dogfight football. Or when a late night drive turns into carpool karaoke. Those small specks of time where you’re truly living in the present.

As Midnight approached the daggers took their leave. Most of them were staying on base or had nearby hotels so they waited a few hours after their last drink to leave. Though Bob was DD so he took most of them home.

Goodbyes were said with promises to meet up again soon. A few of the pilots were expected to report for an upcoming mission that week so they were all on high alert. Y/n of course was worried and gave a pep talk to each of them as they left.

When the house was finally cleared with only the couple and their dogs remaining, Y/n discarded the empty cans and water bottles before rinsing off the dishes. A yawn escaped her, leaning into Pete when he came up behind her, arms going to her waist.

“You know that can wait until morning,” he kissed her cheek, making her smile.

“I know, but I like waking up to see it’s already done. That way I can relax by sleeping in.”

Pete chuckled against her ear, “I leave you to it then. I’ll get the dogs settled and meet you in the room.” With a kiss to her lips, Pete removed himself and whistled for the hounds to follow him down the corridor. Their patter got lighter and lighter, silence filling the room once they were gone.

There wasn’t much to do in the kitchen or living room. Y/n hummed the tone of ‘Don’t You Forget About Me’ as she rinsed the plates and cups to put them in the dishwasher.

“I’ll be alone, dancing, you know it, baby,” she sang under her breath, nodding her head to the beat even though no music was playing. “Going to take you apart. I’ll put us back together at heart baby.”

“Don’t you, forget about me.”

After that was done Y/n took out the trash and placed it by the garage door to remind them in the morning. Next she wiped down the countertops and fixed the couch cushions. Finally the last thing to do was lock the doors and close the curtains.

Moving past the living room to head toward her bedroom, Y/n paused when she came to the wall displaying many photographs from her career milestones. “Don’t lose that dream, little one,” she could hear Elvis say to her as her eyes met the framed Rolling Stones cover in the center. The lighting of the image made it appear of just her silhouette, Y/n’s head tilted up with the echo of a smile on her lips. The microphone right beside her with Danny’s drums in the background.

“Y/n L/n is the Daughter of Rock ‘N’ Roll.”

Dated February 1992. Thirty years since the issue was released. And boy had it been a wild ride for the rockstar.

Brushing her finger over the image and then lightly tapping her knuckles against the glass, Y/n grinned as Elvis' words to 12-year-old self repeated in her head.

“Hope I made you proud, King.”

……………….

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