Bronze Bust of Sassanid King (Shapur II), Persia, 4th Century AD
The Sassanid King Shapur II is represented by a cast bronze torso which originally belonged to a composite statue that showed him majestically enthroned, his finely articulated hands resting on a sword (cast separately and now lost). He wears a high, crenellated, tripartite crown with ribbons attached at the back and his forehead is encircled by a diadem adorned with two rows of pearl beads. He wears a tight-fitting, long-sleeved tunic marked by sinuous rills; over this, he wears a belt and halter, both double-beaded with pearls and clasped at the waist with a large circular medallion bordered with the same gems. He is richly outfitted in large bead-and-pearl earrings, pearl bracelets, and a heavy pearl necklace with two round jeweled pendants, one intact, the other preserving traces of a sun disc.
The Sassanids were a Persian dynasty originating in Fars, who established a powerful empire that extended throughout the Iranian plateau between AD 224-226 and AD 651, making their capital at Ctesiphon. In western chronicles, the most celebrated event in Sassanid history was King Shapur I’s victory in AD 260 over the Roman emperor Valerian, who was taken prisoner along with several thousand of his soldiers. Comparison with similar stepped, crenellated crowns on coin portraits supports the identification of this bust as that of Shapur II (reigned AD 309-379) whose glorious seventy year tenure fortunately had a Roman eyewitness, the historian Ammianus Marcellinus, an officer in the army of Emperor Julian the Apostate.
Genre: Royalty AU, smut, fluff, dirty talk, cum play (Oh boy..)
Summary: As a maid working for the royal family, it is your job to serve those who are above you. You know the rules and are supposed to keep them, however said rules become harder and harder to follow when put into actual practice.
Word count: 5,971
Notes: Whoop whoop, there is smut! This part isn’t especially angsty and the smut only really comes at the end. I was listening to Bedroom hymns by Florence + the machine when I was wring this, so you can listen to that if you want an audio to go with this. Especially for the smut scene ;)
Now,–the country does not even boast a tree, As you see, To distinguish slopes of verdure, certain rills From the hills Intersect and give a name to, (else they run Into one) Where the domed and daring palace shot its spires Up like fires O'er the hundred-gated circuit of a wall Bounding all, Made of marble, men might march on nor be pressed, Twelve abreast.
Robert Browning, Love among the ruins
The upper halls of the castle were dead quiet, so silent that the only noise bouncing along the walls was the soft tread of your feet against the stone floor and your shallow breaths that puffed out from exertion. A bundle of sticks were pressed close to your chest, the sides being supported by your arms that curled around it so that you could shuffle the weight from one side to the other from time to time the muscles in your arms already complaining against the strain. Really this should’ve been a job for someone stronger than you, not that you weren’t capable; you had proven your skill already, but collecting firewood was a strenuous job, particularly tiring for someone of your size. Usually it was one of the younger more robust servers that would help with hauling said weight in, one of the errand boys bumbling into the kitchen each morning with a cheerful tune and an armful of twigs for the fire. However, recently communication with the neighbouring countries had been especially high, meaning that the poor boys was sent riding to great distances in order to exchange notes between the kings, Which only left the maids, the butlers, the cooks and the guards to deal with the the more taking jobs, and the guards were so overrun and the butlers so elderly- taking on the job seemed like the only thing you could do.
Anxiety was wedged into the corner of the couch, knees drawn up to his chest. The epitome of physical comfort, he smirked to himself as he scrolled through tumblr. Physical was the key word there as he attempted to distract himself from his thoughts which were, to put it mildly, uncomfortable. He glanced up at Prince who was sitting at the dining room table, polishing his katana and humming a happy tune that Anxiety didn’t recognize. Anx felt a stab of jealousy as he watched the man work. Though he may not have been as physically comfortable as Anxiety currently was in his warm soft ball, it was obvious that the inside of Prince’s head was very comfortable.
“You’re staring.” Prince said in a light hearted, sing-song voice; not bothering to look up from his work.
“No I wasn’t” Anxiety said a bit to defensively. “I was just zoned out.”
“Sure.” The fanciful man said, his tone one of teasing disbelief. Anxiety rolled his eyes and settled deeper into the cushions before turning his attention back to his dash, but he couldn’t keep his eyes from straying to Roman’s face, so happy and concentrated at the same time.
Morality and Logic came into the room just then, on their way to the kitchen. Logic’s face was twisted up as he tried to make sense of Dad’s inane babbling. Anxiety would remind him that it was a hopeless endeavor, but it was much more entertaining to watch him get wound up. Dad made another terrible joke which caused Logic to throw his hands in the air and make a very frustrated sound before turning to the fridge. Morality turned and threw the other two a mischievous wink before launching into a set of even worse dad jokes.
Prince and Anxiety shared a dumbfounded look. He had always assumed that Morality was just that oblivious, the idea that he was purposely rilling Logan up was near unimaginable.
“Aw, don’t be mad at me.” Morality said to Logic’s backside. “Tell you what kiddo, let’s make a couple sandwiches then we can watch a documentary of your choosing?” Logan visibly brightened at that.
“Aren’t they cute?” Prince asked once the room was empty again.
Anxiety made a disgusted sound but that jealous feeling was niggling at him again.
“You know…we could be cute.“ The other man continued. That actually made him snort, not even bothering to look up to see if Prince was serious. “I’m being sincere
Anxiety stared at Roman for a long time, a whirlwind had started in his head and each thought was worst than the last. “Look,” he started slowly, “I get not wanting to be alone, but that doesn’t mean you should just pair up with whoever’s around. There is someone out there for you.” the optimism felt unfamiliar on his tongue, but not necessarily false. He was sure that for someone like Prince there were a thousand someones.
The other man sheathed his blade with a snort, Anxiety flinched away from the sound. “A) I’m not some lonely guy looking to hook up. B) You are not some lonely guys hook up, okay? And C)” there was a pause as Prince’s face shifted into a grin,” You’re my yang.” Then he gave him his best Charming Smile. The one that said ‘I know that was cheesy but you loved it anyways.’ Anxiety’s brain raced trying to figure out what was going on, his whole body was screaming “Danger!” However, Roman’s smile was gentle and sincere as he moved to sit in front of Anxiety on the couch. He placed one hand on Anxieties knee which was still drawn up towards his chest.
“Anxiety, do you remember that day we talked about Disney films?” Anx gave a wary nod. “You’ve been on my mind a lot since that day. I thought perhaps I had a missed judged you, and indeed I had. I have watched you closer the past few weeks, and all I can think about is talking to you again, seriously and deeply. I want to know you and understand you. I want you challenging my ideas and occasionally calling me out on my crap. Also I suspect you to be a fantastic cuddler. “ That last was said with a giant grin, but the longer Anxiety simply stared at him the more doubt crept into the others eyes. It was an expression he had never seen on the others face, it broke his, heart which was hammering against his ribs, but he still couldn’t force any words past his throat.
“I’m sorry, I know that’s a lot all at once, but think about it will you?” With that Roman rose gracefully, placing a kiss atop his head before leaving the room.
Now alone, wedged in the corner of the couch, Anxiety trembled struggling to believe what he’d heard, struggling to drown out the dark voices whose words were harsh and bitter. Could Thomas’ Dreams and Nightmares get along, coexist? Could they be a …Dream Team? He thought channeling his inner dad.
Anxiety went looking for Roman, not sure what he would say to him and doing everything in his power not to think about. He focused on finding the other and reciting the lyrics to songs instead. The effect was wearing off, he needed to find the other quickly or the dark thought would win out and he’s just go home. Finally he spotted him, his white shirt and red sash barely visible in the dusk. He was seated on the top of a grassy hill, watching the fireflies come out. Anxiety walked up quietly behind him, heart thudding and hoping hard than he’d ever hoped that the Prince had ment each of his words. Roman looked up at him questioningly once he realized he was there, but once again his words were stuck in his throat. Instead he sat down next to the man, leaning his head against the broad shoulder and threading their hands together. All of the tension left Prince’s frame and he let out a small relieved sigh that Anx would have missed had he not been sitting so close. It made him smile a little, surely even Prince was not that god an actor?
Roman Kissed the top of his head again before leaning his own against it. “I’m not perfect. Much as it pains me to admit it.”
Anxiety raised his head so he could give Prince as confused look. “I’m not perfect but I’m going to try, Anxiety I’m going to try so hard.” Before his stupid cloudy dark brain could catch up with him he leaned forward and kissed him.
Summary: You reminisce back to the hot summer days you spent as a camp counselor and fell for your first love, Vernon.
Genre: Fluff, smut
Word Count: 3,842
It was in the beginning of July, violet season, when each year tiny petals floated through humid winds, pilling at the base of trees, coating cars and filling empty canoes. The air was fragrant with their pollen, triggering seasonal allergies, but no one ever seemed to complain. The sight was too beautiful, too rich to wish away. The algae on the lake had finally disappeared, leaving nothing but crystal clear water to sparkle under the summer sun.
Head counselors scurried around the camp grounds with metal clipboards. Yellow cabins lined the dirt trail and an old tire swing could still be found suspended from an oak. It was as if you had never left. Time stood still in this place, like a snapshot of fond childhood memories that you could now relive. You stood on the grass looking around the campsite, recollecting past adventures of swimming in the warm lake and playing soccer on the field. Stepping into the food hall, you hurried to sign in. The room was full of busy people carrying trays and wiping down tables.
A.N . : Heey guys this is my first fan fiction that I wrote, I took your advice yesterday and give it a try, hope you liked it. And also if you do, the request’s are opened! Enjooy.
Hunting with Dean was always a new experience. You knew he didn’t want you there, although Sam was able to convince him every time that you are good asset to them. You are an occult professor at the university for God’s sake, you could have helped them at every case they got if the older brother wasn’t such a stubborn ass and refuse to let you come with them.
time? This time was hella different,
they caught a wiff about some wicked witch from the ‘500 and they sure needed
So now you
were standing in the living room of the bunker with a smug grin on your face.
the smirk Y/N, you are not impressing anyone sweetie. ”
voice of Dean made your knees go weak and that made you awfully aware of what
you’re wearing, some ripped shirt and some black yoga pants you put in this
morning not even bothering yourself to care. But now? Now you we’re regretting
everything, it was no secret that you’ve developed a bad crush on the older
Winchester, that obvious that even Sam and Cass knew about it and they were
pissing you off all the free time to telll Dean. Not gonna happen so soon
tough, plus you didn’t even know if he even liked you that way.
me Winchester! You need me, But you are
an ignorant ass who doesn’t want to recognise that they need a woman to help
You throw at
him, seating in the chair opposite from him and trying not to strangle him.
Some times you wanted to kill him, he was indeed an insufferable asshole and a
ladies man all the way, and despite everything bad you tought about him, didn’t seem to help you forget him. To help
you not wanting him, not wanting to feel his rough skin on you body, and those plump lips on yours.
Damn stop it Y/N !
you couldn’t get yourself hot and bothered for nothing.
morning Y/N, here’s your coffee .”
head you smiled gratefully at Sam and thanked him.
with what are we dealing ? ”
Sam put a
folder in front of you and you laugh. That couldn’t be possible.
can’t be possible, you want me to believe that we are after the ghost of
Rebbeca Bishop? The witch from Salem
unbelievable even for you, and you saw
enough to not be impressed so easily, but the Salem witch was crazy even
are you scared baby? ” Dean said in a baby voice making you wanting to
smack that beautiful face of his.
shut up ! I guess we need to make a trip to Salem then. ”
and let himself on the chair with his hands besides his head. It was clear that
Dean hated witches and he had his reasons too, that doesn’t mean he gets tired
of complaining every time they have a case with witches. This time makes no
and as half later you groaned stretching your legs, being in baby for that long
made you itchy and tired.
you were staying at wasn’t making you feel better either but it will do for
The bad part
? You all were gonna be staying in the same room, that means bickering with
Dean all the freaking time, good news ?
Maybe….maybe you’ll get to share the bed with the same asshole you seemed to like so much.
The only problem?
It was only 3 pm and they needed to go out and start questioning people and
stuff, you would have come with them, but your acting skills were zero, and you
would’ve put thei cover in danger, so you choosed to stay in the motel, and so some research on how to kill the witch that seams to cut their
victims on the stomach and splatter the organs, now you were sure she is her, I
mean that’s how she was killed, in Africa. The only thing you didn’t know was
how was the ghost still here….on what object she was attached? You did online research, called one of your
friends from college and collect as much
intel as you could, but still, you were not having a single clue on how to kill
between the hair pulling and the cries of helpness, Sam called you, and his
voice was erratic.
found how to kill the ghost – it sounded ironic to you, the ghost theoretically
was already dead but… - It’s attached on some ring from some history museum in
town, could you help us with some you know, historian to another? “
it shouldn’t be hard to talk to the historian from the museum, but you didn’t
know if he or she would let you touch the ring, how were you supposed to grab
him form his hold and destroy it?
me at the hotel, I need a ride and to discuss the plan with you” .
Closing the call, you put the fake badge of an
historian, cause let’s face it, you weren’t really an historian, just a
professor, and get out of the motel room.
Puttin the gun in the back, you put the shirt over it and took a jacket
over you too.
you take longer?”
Was the only
snarky remark coming from Dean when you pop in the car, and you rolled your
eyes, a break, you needed a fucking break from his behaviour, but did you get
it? Noo, why should you?
what? Kiss my ass will ya? “
scream at him when he didn’t stop with sarcasm, and he looked at you with wide
eyes. Then a pervert smile came on his face making Sam almost wanting to vomit,
but he choose to say nothing…that traitor!
wish princess, name the place and hour I’ll do it happily!”
like a fucking lava and put your hands under your breasts from instinct, making
them look bigger than they actually were.
to strangle him, kiss him and fuck him at the same time, and you didn’t know
wich one was worse.
solve the fucking case and go home? I need a break from Don Juan here.”
and Dean gave you the “I’m gonna kill you “ look, that didn’t seem to scare
you, so he grunted and resumed to driving.
Regina it is? – You asked looking at the historian name tag. – My name is Clair
Smith and I’m coming from the history museum a few towns from here, these are
FBI agents Clarcke and Johnson, wee need you to gave us a look about the ring
of Rebbeca Bishop.
ring destroyed was hard, hard when the ghost was possessing Regina’s boddy and,
boy she did everything in her power to stop you and the brothers to destroy it.
You didn’t escape being hurt either, and when you arrived at your shared motel
room Dean started to shout while Same
did go out to take some medicine for your shooted arm.
hell were you thinkin Y/N ? Were you even thinking at all? You almost got
killed! That’s why I don’t want you on our hunts, you always get hurt slowing
us from everything!”
furiously and you flinched, that stung….actually that fucking hurt, you knew he
couldn’t stand you, but you hoped maybe for some restrain from him but no….
“Why do you
fucking care huh? It’s not like I’m your favorite person in the world, I didn’t
expect you to get so rilled up about nothing! So I got shot, so what? Is my
boddy not yours. “
see the fury in his green eyes, that sparkle that make your knees go weak, the
sparkle that made you wanting to rip is clothes off and have your way with him.
“You are so
fucking stupid Y/N…so stupid.”
finish your sentence, in a few big steps Dean was in front of you, his big and
rough hands on your face and hair and you couldn’t say a thing, he was touching
you, feeling you and you couldn’t say a damn thing, he was good, you needed to
give him that.
you not see that I was trying to protect you. I care about you ok?”
with his lips almost touching yours, it was an undescribible moment, the
feeling he gave you…
and his lips crashed with yours letting you without breath, this kiss was
everything you imagined and more, teeth touching, tongues dancing, your hands
in his hair pulling him close, his hands on you waist this time, everything was
perfect, unbelievable almost.
going back now Winchester, you’re with me from now, I’m not going back to that
school, I want to help you! “
brother sighed and took you in his arms, your head on his shoulder, you could
feel his heat and that made you instantly sleepy.
dream about letting you go now, princess. “
Summary: The last thing Brandon Stark remembered was darkness, and it was darkness he woke to.
Brandon Stark survives King’s Landing with scars both physical and emotional. The world as he knew it has changed, and at the center of it all is a bastard boy with his mother’s eyes.
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Fandoms: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin Relationships: Brandon Stark & Lyanna Stark, Brandon Stark & Ned Stark, Jon Snow & Brandon Stark Tags: Brandon Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Uncle-Nephew Relationship, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, (just in case), Platonic Relationships, Family Dynamics Chapters: 2/4
Your blog makes me so happy I actually almost cried. Thank you for making your amazing art (especially of my boys Josuke and Okuyasu). If you don't mind me asking, do you have any favorite fan fics of them? Other than that thank you so much for your art! ❤️
Hey! Aaa thank you so much!! I’m always shocked to know that my art
actually makes people feel things, but I’m very happy that it does!! TuT
As for fan fics?? Admittedly I don’t read too many, mostly
because my incredibly poor ability to concentrate affects stuff like reading
quite a lot, so I never got in the habit. That said I have read a few, but am
going to cheat a little with this answer.
The fic is more story driven than ship driven, but the Josuyasu
part of it is just so well written, and as much as I want those fools to just
talk to each other, it’s nice to see the complications of young love portrait
in such a natural pacing. Also the story of the fic is just so intricate and
compelling and this is one of those rare occasions I actually go through each
new chapter without being able to look at anything else.
I will mention that the very first fic in that list, Rill
Rill, is another big favourite of mine. I have some reservations about Yukako’s
character, and really appreciate that characterization of her where she’s still…
difficult, but is trying to work through it.
The Strip was positively packed with cars, so even though it was a few blocks too early General MacManus tapped his driver on the shoulder and hardly waited for the jeep to slow down before jumping out and hoofing it towards the Lucky 38. His dogrobber followed suit in a clumsier fashion, lugging a bag and briefcase.
MacManus was big and broad, and had never given a shit about people he didn’t know, if it came down to it, so despite the crowd he was inside the casino within moments, snapping his aviators off and thrusting them backwards for Corporal Smythe to grab. When his glasses disappeared MacManus waved a paw of a hand at the liveried elevator boy, who dropped into a crisp bow and held the elevator door.
MacManus was on a mission, an important one. Of the two major projects he was working on, the first had ended early and the second was starting late. With that in play, he had managed- at great expense of money and mental effort- to carve out a teeny tiny fraction of vacation time for himself, and he was not going to hesitate at achieving it.
During the brief ride up he studiously avoided the elevator boy’s attempts at pleasant conversation, dwelling instead for a moment on the difficulty at hand. The last project he’d have to put his stamp on was ludicrous- a monkey’s job. A few of the eggheads kept wanting to tinker with the M42, adding blast shields and ammo variants. Which meant that he personally had ended up in the godforsaken desert south of Las Vegas at a makeshift observation deck, listening to the junior officers ooh and ah and quote Hindu scripture like it was the second coming of goddamned Trinity. He really pitied the poor grunt down there in the valley who had to nuke some cardboard targets from a grenade’s throw away.
It was a waste of money, and he’d said so, but he put his stamp on it anyway to get the eggheads to shut up, but he’d taken his aide Colonel Tidewater aside to let him know that the budget for the project could be safely decimated. Literally.Tidewater was out doing the legwork on the next project- some relatively practical idea about setting up newly built prisons, hospitals and such so that they could be quickly converted into useful military sites in the event regular bases were targets. Otherwise, he’d be here and there would be someone interesting to talk to.
MacManus felt the elevator slow as they neared the Presidential Suites, but he lashed out with a craggy finger in the elevator boy’s face and waggled it very deliberately. The unfortunate lad blanched but made the right choice, ignoring whatver VIPs had called the elevator.
Here they were at one of the most important targets in MacManus’ sight right now- the Lucky 38 Cocktail Lounge. He pushed out of the elevator before the door was barely opened, leaving his perpetually embarrassed dogrobber to tip and console the elevator boy.
This was it. The Holy Grail. Shangri-la. There were better bars in Vegas, of course, and Robert House’s taste in decorating would never match the Ultra Luxe, for example, but… MacManus peered through rills of cigarette smoke backlit by the sun through the tower’s windows. The view. The thrice-damned view.
He made a quick circuit, taking it in. He didn’t get to come in here often enough. The genius of this view, was that unless you got right up close and peered down, you couldn’t see the filthy city of Las Vegas at all. Seated on his usual chair- which he regretfully bypassed for the moment- he looked out at the mountains, at the thin clouds as they were driven across the sunny sky. Soon enough. Unfortunately, business never ceased.
MacManus made a departure from his routine and sat down at the bar. He reached inside his jacket and removed his pipe- a scuffed, stubby Irish bulldog- and his tobacco, which he had made by Kramer’s whenever he was in LA. It was a dark English blend, and he was sure that the smell of it straight from the pouch would keep anyone from sitting next to him. Once lit, though, it would be a smoke to rival any cathedral’s incense.
The bartender limped over and discreetly handed him a shotglass full of matches. MacManus took them and began to pack and light his pipe without acknowledging the man. Once he was steadily puffing, he looked over and gave the bartender a smile.
“Thank you, Chet.”
“My pleasure, General.” He blinked a bit more than was necessary. The power of latakia. “What will it be this morning, sir?”
MacManus looked past him, behind the bar, and chuckled. The beer taps on display were a joke, the rube’s idea of good beer and whiskey. Horowitz? Dirty Fenster? Jesus wept. House made a mint by catering to the poor schmucks who didn’t know any better. But when dealing with an arrogant sonofabitch like House, of course it was a trap.
The only thing Robert House hated more than a rube was a poser. If you asked for some top shelf booze that wasn’t shown, you’d be served it and made to feel like a king. But then the quality of service would plummet and your luck at the casino would disappear. Your punishment for putting on airs.
General Roderick MacManus was an arrogant sonofabitch as well, and ten years ago he’d made a sort of friendship with Robert House by escaping the trap the only possible way. He had cheated.
“The Satrap 1851, of course, Chet.” It was his family’s whisky, brewed for a short time and raved about by serious imbibers for some time, but discontinued before the Great War and never seen outside of Scotland. His first time at the Lucky 38 he’d asked for it, knowing they wouldn’t have it. He’d endured the embarassment and apologies with a wry smile, but on his next visit there’d been a bottle of it waiting, as well as a discreet invitation up to the penthouse, to talk business.
Chet nodded and went to fetch the drink. MacManus tucked his tobacco pouch back into his jacket and almost relaxed.
His friendship with House had turned into quite the mutual arrangement, and he’d spent many a pleasant afternoon with the man, solving… well, some of the world’s problems. At least until a couple years ago. House had always been eccentric, but at some point at least one of his gears had slipped, and he’d become a recluse. He didn’t leave the penthouse and nobody was permitted in. They’d kept in touch over the defense network (a RobCo product, of course), but electronic letters were a pale substitute for the company of your peers.
“Your Satrap, sir.” Chet brought the glass over to him like it was full of plutonium. Probably as expensive.
MacManus took a contemplative puff, before grabbing his pipe and using it to point vaguely… up. “Is… he taking visitors yet?”
“He is not, sir.” It was quite a poker face. Chet’s talents were wasted in this part of the Lucky 38. MacManus nodded with what he hoped was a reasonable expression, and without looking signaled for his dogrobber. The Corporal responded by swiftly slapping the briefcase on the bar and then stepping back into helpful distance.
MacManus snapped the catches open and reached inside for the souvenir snowglobe he’d had made for his friend. A little joke between the two of them. He set it down on the bar in front of Chet.
“Give this to Robert, with my regards, Chet.”
“I will do, sir.”
“Give Corporal Smythe a drink, please, Chet. Not the good stuff.”
“Indeed, sir.” MacManus grinned and crammed his pipe back in his mouth. He picked up his glass of whisky and stood up from the bar.
“– if you don’t hurry up we are going to be late to see the weekend! We got pit and I don’t want to be late!” Namjoon yelled at you from downstairs as you got ready. You giggled checking yourself out in the mirror one more time before you nodded in approval ready for him to see your outfit.
You knew it would be hot so you decided to wear black socks up to your knees with blue Nike’s not wanting to get your white shoes dirty. You had on a long blue and white T-shirt that had the sides cute a bit from under your arms to under your breast and on it that had lyrics to one of the weekend songs on it. The shirt showed your black bra but you didn’t mind it at all you knew Namjoon adored that bra. And it almost clung to your body showing off your curves. You made sure your hair was straight reaching down to your ass and your makeup wasn’t to heavy. You put on nude lipstick though because you thought it looked good on your caramel skin. You were overall satisfied and since it was your first time wearing it you knew it would surprise him.
You walked down the stairs slowly as you put his black choker on only to see him leaning against the door and you were the one shocked. Namjoon had on dark blue baggy skinny jeans with a black v-neck and of course another black choker and his clear glasses. A smirk on his lips as he eyed your body and you laughed when his shoes were matching yours.
Namjoon on the other hand was rather surprised by you. He knew you would pull something. But this. Was sinful and it wasn’t fair to him. How would he take you out and actually behave with you like that? He decided that he would look off before he ended up pinning you to the wall and neither of you left.
When you got to him he kissed your lips grabbing his keys and opening the house door for you.
“Jagiya your so beautiful..” He said in that deep voice that always made you heat up and blush.
“T-thank you~ You know you look good as usual.” You shot back a soft moan leaving your lips when he bite down between your shoulder and neck humming.
He led you to the car opening the door and letting you in before he himself got in the driver side starting the car up and driving off. You checked your wallet making sure you brought the tickets and other minor things deciding to leave your purse at home. Namjoon started up a weekend cd and you both started to sing to the music.
King of the fall was your favorite song while Wicked Games was Namjoons favorite. Both songs came on back to back but with wicked games it always made you have to cross your legs. That song just always happen to be playing when Namjoon decides to push you against shit or turn your late night cuddling into him fucking you into the mattress.
“Is something the matter jagi?” Rap monster asked snapping you out of your dirty thoughts and you flushed shaking your head.
“A-ani I’m just nervous to meet him is all!” You tried to lie. Namjoon just smirked knowing by your face you were fantasizing about him. You made the same face every single time it happened and though he knew it was possible you could be happy about your backstage pass it was mostly about him.
After about a good forty five minutes you guys were at the concert venue parking lot. You smiled excitedly bouncing as he turned the car off. He got out coming to your side to let you out. You grabbed his hand lacing your fingers with his as he pulled you to the arena. It was a inside venue but still you guys would have to stand. Namjoon walked up to the people handling the tickets to them focusing on the tickets while you were focusing on the girls who were eye fucking him.
Namjoon noticing the shift in the air looked over at you and then at the girls before he chuckled softly kissing your lips in front of them. “I am yours. And you are mine.” He smiled sweetly at you pulling you with him when they cleared the tickets.
He glared at you when he saw that you wouldn’t be at the front but still four rows from the front. You giggled knowing it was your fault for taking so long but you stuck your tongue out to tease him. “Yah~ we can have just as much fun in the middle as being front row.” You told him smirking and he rolled his eyes before walking up with you.
It was a good thirty mintues before the concert so you and Namjoon talked and joked with each other as usual to kill time. You noticed guys looking at you every now and then but you just waved it off because you were with him. One time you heard Namjoon growl but he quickly calmed his face as the weekend entered the stage. The crowd started cheering and as soon as people started pushing Namjoon placed you in front of him embracing his arms around your waist holding your body pressed against his as he rested his chin on your head.
You heard King of the fall play so you instanlty started to dance swaying your hips side to side getting lost in the song. Namjoon on the other hand was trying his hardest to keep you still which didn’t work. He knew after a while when you kept dancing and grinding against him you were doing it on purpose. And he would get you back. That was for sure. You on the other hand felt off because Namjoon never let this much teasing go by withouth some sort or retaliation but you thought since you were in the pit you were fine.
Finally Wicked Games came on and Namjoon was smirking from ear to ear. He slowly started to move his hips against yours just enough to raise your shirt up over your ass without his hands having to move. He waited until you were completly lost in singing before he slipped his hands into your panties a proud smile on his face when you froze up from dancing.
“Wet already?” He asked you softly running his long fingers around your pussy lips feeling your juices seep out on his hands as he tsked. “It’s a shame I can’t just up and fuck you right here but the space is so tight… Like your pretty pink pussy. I’m sure my fingers could help out.. But be quiet for me ok? You don’t want to get us caught now do you?” He chuckled deeply nibbling on your neck his fingers coming up to slowly stroke your clit roughly.
You bit down on your bottom lip trying to grab at his arm knowing it was no stopping him. And it would be a lie to say you didn’t want it. But you were embarrassed and you didn’t want to get caght. You looked around seeing no one was paying attention so you relaxed against his hold and that only rilled him up more.
He spread your feet with his own and as soon as your legs were apart he spread your pussy lips with two fingers shoving his middle two fingers inside of you. His long fingers pounding deep into you as the speakers blared Often.You groaned softly when he curved them scissoring you and stretching you out. He started to suck a hickey into your neck grinding his hips against your ass slowly and unnoticed to others. He had you so wet your juices were sliding down your legs.
“Such a dirty girl. Maybe I’ll replay this song for you later and chain you up.. Either way this is only part one of your punishment.” Namjoon smirked eyeing the red spot on your skin and he fucking adored how it painted your caramel skin marking you his.
He slipped three fingers inside of you using his thumb to swipe across your swollen and throbbing clit teasing you as he groaned deep in your ears before the lights shut low. He let his other hand drift under your shirt since it was to dark for anyone else to see anything. He slipped his rough hand under your bra groping your breast his whole hand covering it as he continued to slam and curve his fingers up inside of you.
You were a panting shaking mess against him. Your legs wasn’t holding out and you knew your end was nearing. Your makeup was going to get ruined because of how much sweat you were producing and you knew he enjoyed every bit of it.
“Look at me..” Namjoon said.
You were going to fight him and not do it but when he threatened to fist you, you happily gave in looking in his eyes. He leaned down to kiss your lips gently, his tongue shoving into your mouth claimming dominance as he rubbed harder on your clit bringing you to the edge. His tongue swirled around yours locking with yours as he tasted your cavern as his hand pinched and pulled at your nipple. He pulled back breathing against your lips looking in your eyes and after a few more deep flicks of his wrist inside of you, you were cumming on his fingers trying to stop your moans from releasing to loud from your mouth and it turned into squeals anyway.
“Good girl..” Namjoon teased pulling his hands from you, one arm wrapping back around your waist as he cleaned your juices from your fingers. You whined kissing him again tasting yourself happy that the dream was finally breaking from his first set. You looked back to the front as people started to talk with you and Namjoon praying that the rest of the concert went fast so you could meet the weekend and fuck Namjoon in the back of your car.