#over again one direction acoustic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thespineoftherighteous · 2 years

Text

aftg show bloopers like

the scene where Neil throws the glass at Aaron (it's not glass glass, it's that softish, breakable material used in filmmaking that looks like glass) and Aaron's actor ducks too late so it hits him straight in the face. nobody moves for a second (they're still rolling) until Neil's actor moves toward him going "oh my god I'm so sorry" and everyone starts laughing and Aaron's actor is like I'm fine dw

Allison's actress tripping in her heels during what's supposed to be a badass entrance and she drags herself out to redo the take, cursing the shoes

so many bits of the cast just pretending to club each other over the head with their racquets

Coach's actor accidentally switches up a whole bunch of words while shooting one of his inspirational speeches. but he just keeps talking as though he didn't just passionately tell the kids to "get out on that floor and- court- show them how real a Fox floors- plays...after tonight they will- they will not ever discriminate- underestimate you again" and you can hear the Foxes' actors quietly break character one by one in the background

Andrew's actor pulling out a knife to threaten someone but then dropping it and jumping back from it

just. the monsters all piled in the car for a scene and they're all in the zone, waiting for "Action" to be called when something happens and they all crack up in sync

Andrew and Neil's actors on an actual roof, trying to shoot an Andreil Moment but an airplane flies over and they have to wait for it to pass because audio. so in the blooper these two guys are just standing very close to each other, Andrew's hand fisted in Neil's hoodie, staring up at the airplane urging it to get out of the way

in one scene Dan's actress kisses Matt on the cheek as a goodbye before she leaves the room, and right after she does Neil's actor jumps up to kiss his cheek too

they're shooting a night practice scene and Kevin's actor keeps missing the mark and it's just a bunch of two second clips of him on set of the court, groaning and swearing and oof-ing. after he misses the action for like the tenth time he just turns to make direct eye contact with the camera, his face comically blank

(in the background you can hear Neil's actor go "thank goodness for editing and all that magic, eh?")

Andrew's actor forgets his line during the scene where the Foxes meet the Ravens at the banquet. he gets to the "Jean. Jean Valjean" line and then completely blanks, going "Jean Valjean. hello Jean Valjean. I'm supposed to say something to you now Jean Valjean. i do not remember what"

the actors for Aaron, Kevin, Andrew and Nicky all being crammed onto that couch in the lounge the way the monsters actually do and falling asleep on each other in between takes

Neil's actor is British who speaks in an American accent but one time accidentally lets the accent slip during a scene where he uses the phrase "strongest goalkeeper". he cuts himself off and it's silent for a beat and then he softly repeats "goalkeeper" to himself in an exaggeratedly British accent and cracks everyone up. Kevin's actor, who himself naturally has an Irish accent, goes "this is South Carolina, love"

it's a night shoot and it's cold and Aaron's actor steals Andrew's actor's (his brother) scarf going "how come you get a scarf and i don't. Aaron is getting the scarf for this scene"

Kevin and Neil's actors doing a scene where they get all up in each other's faces. and then start leaning in too much and make as though they're going to start kissing

just a solid two minutes of Neil and Andrew's actors fighting bugs away from their faces throughout various rooftop scenes

Nicky's actor being the mf king of improvised one-liners (in true Nicky fashion) and just constantly causing EVERYONE to break cause his quips are so random

not really a blooper but they're behind the camera, waiting for something to be set up, and Renee's actress has an acoustic guitar and she and some of the others make up really bad jingles for all the characters

Dan's actress is most likely to fumble her lines or trip over her tongue and she always does like a weird dance to shake herself out

Aaron's actor looking straight into the camera with a shiner blooming over half his face due to a badly executed "fight" scene: let it be known. here on the set of All for the Game, i do my own stunts

(his brother in the background: you DORK. Aaron's actor: shut up or I'm telling Mom you punched me in the face)

Kevin's actor doing a scene (perhaps that one on the bus in tfc) where he's downing alcohol and he's expecting the director to call cut at a certain point or tell him when he can stop drinking but that doesn't happen so he just kind of confusedly chugs the whole bottle and then the director goes "you didn't need to do all that but we got it thanks" and Kevin's like ?? but Neil's actor, who's in the scene, is stood there with his eyebrows raised, very impressed, going "oh my god that was amazing"

Dan's actress slipping on a line and then banging her head against the chest of Matt's actor in frustration and he just rubs her back, grinning

not a blooper but Neil's actor recites the Riko roast flawlessly and as soon as they call "Cut" on it he gets a little sitting ovation from everyone. even Riko's actor is like yeah okay shutting the fuck up and leaving you alone now

Neil's actor actually struggling to get the seal off the ice cream container in that one scene. he fake-struggles with it for a few moments and then starts actually struggling and looks over to the production people and goes "the bloody thing is actually not coming off"

so many bloopers of various cast members having too much fun hitting others upside the head like they do in the books

Andrew's actor accidentally spilling the tray of drinks at Eden's

Allison's actress being the one who can make others break character without getting caught herself

Matt's actor being the one who makes everyone, including himself, break character but doesn't get in trouble because literally everyone is cracking up

however. when they get into Moods, especially during night shoots, and they have scenes together, Matt and Neil's actors are IMPOSSIBLE. to work together. they just cannot control themselves. everyone hates them

see also: Kevin and Matt's actors. Nicky and Allison's. terrible pairings for long days.

there's a scene with coach and the monsters and after like the fifth time they restart coach turns to look at the camera and pours himself a drink using the prop alcohol while going "parenting....is tough"

anyway. call this an au of an au

3K notes · View notes

brbsoulnomming · 10 months

Text

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 2

Part 1 | Now on AO3

-----

When Eddie's almost fourteen, he gets Of course I can handle it by myself, and he wants desperately to know what his soulmate is lying about being able to handle - wants desperately to tell his soulmate that he doesn't have to do it by himself, that Eddie's right here.

The summer of '80, a few weeks before he's due to start high school, Eddie gets I don't think of you all that often anyway, and his heart jumps. He knows it's not directed at him. It can't be - it's one of the hardfast rules.

Lies of omission don't count, half truths don't count, joking usually doesn't count, and it only counts if you're saying the lie to someone, not just telling yourself. So whoever his soulmate is talking to - they do think about this person often, even if they feel like they have to pretend they don't.

But it gives Eddie an idea.

"I don't think about my soulmate very much," he tells Uncle Wayne the next morning.

Wayne raises one eyebrow at him, and Eddie - realizes he didn't exactly think this through, did he?

"I just-" he starts, then stops, realizing that if he lies, it'll show up on his soulmate's skin, and that kind of ruins the grand statement he was trying to make. "I wanted them to know."

Wayne's expression softens. He doesn't say anything about the fact that Eddie had said them and not her, he just claps him on the shoulder and ruffles his hair.

"You're a good kid," he says gruffly, as Eddie bats him away.

Two days later, Eddie sees, Oh, yeah, same. I don't believe you can miss your soulmate before you've even met them.

He doesn't even try to put a damper on his elation. Instead, he rushes out to where Uncle Wayne is watching TV, some old Western, and says, "I don't miss my soulmate, either."

Uncle Wayne looks startled, but he must guess what's going on when he sees Eddie twisting around to examine his arms and bare torso, because he just gives a grunt in response.

It's stupid to think you understand someone just because you know what lies they tell.

Eddie feels like his heart is beating out of his chest, and he's smiling so wide it almost hurts. "I haven't felt like I understand my soulmate. I don't get some of the things on my skin."

Uncle Wayne is looking at him a little more closely. "You sure this is what you want?"

Eddie waves him off, holding his breath as he waits.

I don't get it, man, don't look at me for answers.

"I don't want to keep talking to my soulmate."

There's a long wait after that, so long that Eddie starts to think that was it. But about a half an hour later, hope to see you soon appears just below his ribcage, and Eddie's blooming all over with happiness.

Sucks for the person that his soulmate was talking to, of course, since they were clearly lying about wanting to see them soon, but he knows that they chose that particular phrasing because they wanted Eddie to see it. His stupid idea worked, and he's not going to stop it now.

His soulmate seems to be of the same opinion, because the pseudo conversation keeps up.

Eddie tells Uncle Wayne that he hates reading, that he never wants to see a guitar again, that his favorite season isn't winter, that he knows how to swim and isn't terrified of learning, that he hates spicy food and white chocolate and floral teas and strong coffee and butterflies, that he loves pop music and pastel colors and silverfish.

It gets him a few new books, a second hand acoustic guitar - and, unfortunately, swimming lessons - but it also gets him a wealth of information about his soulmate. He learns that his soulmate likes autumn best, that he's been swimming since before he could walk, that he plays the piano, that he likes spicy food, too, but he prefers dark chocolate and hot apple cider, that he loves cricket bugs but hates house centipedes, that he's not allowed to read comic books anymore but he misses them.

Eddie wonders who his soulmate talks to, when they do this. Uncle Wayne will at least have enough of a half assed conversation with him to support him gaming the system, but his soulmate's replies are usually stilted enough that he can tell it's not the same. They're suited for a different conversation, only related to what Eddie said if he looks for it.

It makes him imagine his soulmate sitting up at night talking on the phone with a friend, trying to hold two conversations at once, thinking carefully about his phrasing - all for Eddie. He can't help the way it makes him feel so much less alone, makes him feel special.

Eddie's extra cautious about telling lies, now that he and his soulmate are talking, and he likes to think his soulmate is doing the same.

They both slip up sometimes, though, and Eddie gets pretty good at figuring out what was meant for him and what wasn't. He gets things like I don't think you're sending me some very mixed signals, here and right, that makes it very clear and I won't be careful that he never responds to, figuring they're actually meant for whoever he's talking to and not for Eddie.

It makes slogging through his first year of high school much more interesting, at least.

"No ma'am, I'm not bored by the way you teach math," he tells his math teacher with a winning smile.

I find the way you teach history as a list of facts and dates for us to memorize very important.

"I don't wonder how we're supposed to retain all of this and regurgitate it on command."

It's stupid to make little songs out of the things you're supposed to remember, it doesn't help at all.

Really, his soulmate is so cute Eddie can never keep himself from grinning when he gets a response.

He never wants to stop.

Taglist (hopefully this works right!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @tartarusknight @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey

----

Part 3

#Steddie #steve harrington #Eddie Munson #wayne munson #platonic soulmates stobin #steddie fic

578 notes · View notes

ladykailitha · 2 months

Text

Batshit Soulmates Part 7

Hey guys! We're almost back to where we started and I fix a glaringly obvious plot hole. Why use alcohol to make Molotov cocktails that could back fire and hurt you when FLARE GUNS FUCKING EXIST AND HAVE FOR DECADES IN THE 1980s?!

GIF by thehound-and-thebird

We also get Eddie and Steve having a moment in the bathroom of Max's trailer. And the reason Eddie didn't want to use his handkerchief.

In Medias Res| Prologue|Pt 1|Pt 2|Pt 3|Pt 4|Pt 5|Pt 6|

****

Steve looked back over his shoulder and into Eddie’s eyes. “We need music!”

Eddie scrambled to his feet. “Robin! We need music!”

They both turn and run into Eddie’s bedroom, rummaging through his stack of cassette tapes.

“What the hell is this?” she held up Iron Maiden. “Where’s the real music? Blondie, Madonna, Cindy Lauper...”

Eddie snatched the tape from her. “This is real music!”

Dustin came running in. “Hey guys! You really need to hurry!”

Then they heard it, Steve and Lucas harmonizing. Eddie grabbed his acoustic and ran out there. He listened to them for a moment and then started playing. It was rough and barely music, but it worked.

Nancy gasped, startling to life.

Steve pulled her in for a hug as everyone breathed a sigh of relief. She babbled about monsters and guilt and horrible visions of the destruction of everything she held dear.

“Let’s get you topside,” Steve murmured, “and we can talk about what this all means.”

They got everyone out of the Upside Down and safely over to Max’s trailer.

Steve was exhausted. He just wanted to take Robin and Eddie and run. None of them had skin in the game. Nancy had made that clear enough. Over and over again.

They also weren’t going to listen to him. He felt like he was screaming into the void. Echoless and empty. His last nerve had been beyond frayed for the last five days. He just wanted to rest.

“Fine.”

Every head snapped his direction.

“But if we’re going to do this,” he growled, “we’re going to do it properly. We need weapons and supplies. And the four of us,” he pointed to the older teens that had been in the Upside Down, “need showers and food. Also, in case anyone forgot,” he pointed down at his ripped and badly bandaged torso, “I need to have this properly bandaged so I don’t bleed out at a crucial moment!”

The silence was deafening.

Nancy folded her arms and rocked back on one heel, staring at the floor.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” she murmured. “I did forget you were injured. Let’s get everyone all cleaned up.”

“And I know where to get supplies,” Eddie said softly.

Steve turned to him and nodded. “Let’s get us all cleaned up, did anyone think to grab Eddie some clothes while we were at his trailer?”

All he got in return were blank stares. Steve pressed the palms of his hands into his eye sockets as he fought the urge to scream.

“I’ll go!” Max said. “I’ll be less likely to be noticed poking around.”

Eddie grimaced he wasn’t sure how he felt about Red getting into his underwear drawer, but she was right. Anyone else would have stuck out like a sore thumb.

He watched as she snuck back out and then turned to Steve. “We need to get you taken care of first. There won’t be much hot water for the rest of us, but Stevie here needs it to clear out his wounds.”

Robin and Nancy nodded.

“Fucking demobats,” Dustin huffed.

Steve snapped his fingers. “I knew they would be called demo-something. It’s always demo-something.”

Dustin turned to him slowly. “What did you think they were going to be called if not bats, Steve?”

Steve shrugged. “Some kind of bird, I don’t know.”

Suddenly there was an uproar from almost everyone. Except Eddie.

“Why would you think that, Stevie?” he asked over the din.

“Because demogorgons don’t look like demogorgons and you originally thought the demodogs were some new species of reptile, so how I was supposed to know you were actually going to name it what it looked like.”

“What does their version of a demogorgon look like?” Eddie asked, suddenly curious.

“Tall, thin, leafy, with a head that opens like a Venus fly trap,” Robin said excitedly.

Eddie turned to Lucas and Dustin and raised an eyebrow. “That sounds more like an umber hulk than a demogorgon. You know, the thing with tentacles and two heads?”

Lucas shrugged. “We were like eleven years old when named it and hadn’t had a lot of experience with the game yet.”

Eddie nodded. “Fair enough.”

He tugged on Steve’s arm and led him into the bathroom.

“Strip and into the water, pretty boy,” Eddie said, turning on the shower. “I’ll go grab some towels and the first aid kit.”

Steve nodded. He gently took off the denim vest and set on the sink. Eddie’s expression softened and smiled.

He got back out just as Max had returned.

“I grabbed two pairs of boxers,” she said. “One for you and one for Steve. I hope that was okay.”

“Just what were you doing in Eddie’s underwear?” Lucas asked, wide eyed.

Max rolled her eyes. “Eddie hasn’t been able to change his in almost a week and that lake water can’t have been good for Steve, so I made an executive decision.”

Eddie grabbed the backpack she had used to stuff the clothes in with a thankful smile. “One I deeply appreciate, Red.”

He also got the first aid kit from her and went back into the bathroom. Steve was as clean as he could get all things considered. He was toweling off his chest when Eddie came in.

“Red brought you a change of underwear, if you don’t mind wearing some of mine,” he muttered.

“As long as they’re clean, Eds,” Steve said, “I would wear Tommy H.’s at this point.”

Eddie chuckled. “Fair enough. I just didn’t want to offend your rich boy sensibilities.”

Steve scoffed. “I don’t have any of those anymore. The Upside Down has a lovely way of getting rid of that kind of shit, fast.”

Eddie nodded, but turned away so Steve could pull on the boxers.

“Thank fuck,” Steve muttered. “I prefer briefs, but they’re dry and that’s like heaven right now.”

Eddie turned around and breathed through his nose. Seeing Steve in his boxers was really doing something for him that it really shouldn’t.

“Let’s get those wounds wrapped up,” he said hefting the first aid kit.

Steve nodded. He leaned up against the sink and let Eddie put on gauze and proper bandages on the wounds on his sides.

“I hope wherever you plan to get supplies has shoes, man,” Steve said as he struggled to put on the sweats, “because I really need to stop running around barefoot.”

Eddie looked down at Steve’s feet and back up at Steve. “Shit. You walked all through the forest and to Nancy’s house barefoot and then rode a bike all the way to Forest Hills, again WITHOUT SHOES?!”

Steve blushed. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“The big deal, Stevie,” Eddie huffed, “is that you’re our tank and if you are too hurt to protect the squishy ones, then everyone gets hurt, okay?”

Steve nodded. “Sorry. They don’t usually care.”

Eddie looked back at the closed door and then back at Steve. “I think you’re wrong. But if you don’t tell them you’re hurt, they can’t take care of you.”

Steve nodded again, he went back out there while Eddie took his turn. Quickly get the worst of six days of being on the run off of him. He merely rinsed his hair out of the dirt and whatever the hell that shit is that is constantly falling in the Upside Down.

He stepped out and dried himself off, using the towel Steve used. It didn’t look like Max had a lot of towels and they still had Robin and Nancy to get through.

He run his hair out and got dressed. When he pulled out the Metallica t-shirt and the one pair of black jeans he owned that didn’t have rips in the knee, he almost wanted to kiss her forehead. God, this was perfect. She even put in socks. He put his shoes on and yeah, they were still kinda wet, but it was much better than everything being kinda wet.

Nancy went next and then Robin, each girl just taking the time they needed to get the Upside Down off of them.

Eddie pulls out a phone book and lays on the table. He goes flipping through it and lands on the section for camping gear and guns.

He points to the biggest ad. “This is where we are going to get our supplies, it will have everything we need. Guns, ammo, whatever you need to take this bastard out.”

Steve pressed up against Eddie and leaned over his shoulder to see what he was pointing at. The War Zone.

“What about alcohol?” Robin asked. “Last time we used Molotov cocktails to take out these monsters.”

“Yeah!” Dustin said. “Fire works great on these guys. And the further away we are to light them up, the better.”

“So flare guns,” Eddie said nodding. “They’ll have those too.”

Nancy and Dustin shared a confused glance.

“What’s a flare gun?” Nancy asked.

Eddie looked around at all the confused faces. “You’ve seen the flares they shoot up when someone is in distress right?”

There were a couple of nods.

“Those are fired from guns,” he explained. “Essentially they are fireworks in a gun.”

“Yeah,” Lucas said, “we’re going to want a lot of those.”

There was a murmur of agreement from everyone.

“Now all we need is transport,” Nancy said. “We don’t have bikes for everyone.”

“Oh,” Eddie said. “I’ve got that covered, too.”

Steve frowned. “What, have you got a car hidden around here somewhere?”

Eddie straightened up and smiled at him. “It’s not a car, and it’s not mine. But it’ll do.”

Steve frowned, but Eddie turned to Max. “Hey you got a bandanna or a mask I can use?”

Max tilted her head and looked up. “Yeah, I’ve got something.”

“Why don’t you use your own hankey?” Nancy asked, pointing to his back pocket.

He held it up. “You mean this? The thing that has been through Lover’s Lake and the Upside Down and I’m pretty sure the smell alone would kill me?”

Nancy blinked for a moment and then waved her hand in concession.

When Max came out of her bedroom carrying the mask, Eddie grinned.

“You’re my favorite.”

“Hey!” Dustin protested.

But Eddie and Max just grinned.

****

Part 8 Part 9 Epilogue

And if you saw this last night, no, no you didn't. Boops distracted me.

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @itsall-taken

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @itsall-taken @swimmingbirdrunningrock

@gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach

@goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666

@carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @vecnuthy

@bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @oxidantdreamboat

@mogami13 @samsoble @xandriumbat @ellietheasexylibrarian @lololol-1234

@y4r3luv @disrespectedgoatman @king-zacharyy @chameleonhair @tinyplanet95

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #soulmate au

135 notes · View notes

boba-beom · 1 year

Text

· ° . ࿐𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 | C.BG

pairing: beomgyu x gn!reader

genre: fluff, comfort, bsf2l | one-shot

synopsis: when the love of a best friend exceeds, it's time to confess to him first. however, you never knew he had fallen for you from the very start.

warning(s): reader a little oblivious, breakdowns, mentions of jealousy, mentions of a breakup, mentions being cheated on (not beomgyu), confessions, physical affection, and a few kisses.

wc: 1.5k

a/n: 12th March 3pm GMT is always 13th March 12am KST, so from one birthday celebrant to the other, happy 22nd birthday to the loml, choi beomgyu. to turn 22 with you is a privilege and I hope this chapter will be good to you. I was listening to NewJeans - Ditto while writing this, so if you want to listen to that too it'll kick in the extra feels :>

choi beomgyu. the name that has never left your mind since the day you met.

you remember the first time you introduced yourselves; meeting by chance at a music shop. the sound of someone testing out an electro-acoustic guitar had you walking around the corner, past the wide variety of guitar brands until you were standing a few metres away from the seated male. his hands were plucking the strings and you were so intrigued by his talent, you were wanting to learn to play the guitar again.

"oh, hi there. are you wanting to try this one out too?" his smile was genuine. he was in the process of pulling the strap over his head and lifted the guitar in your direction.

"no no! it's okay, I was just listening in." you reciprocated the smile, "I hope that's okay with you."

he patted the seat beside him for you to sit, and you followed suit.

"I'm beomgyu by the way." he held out his hand and you accepted it with a soft shake.

"nice to meet you, beomgyu. I'm yn."

choi beomgyu. the name you look for in your contacts when you were in need of company.

"hi beomgyu, I'm sorry to bother you, I know it's late but I really need a friend right now." you were sitting on the floor, back leaning against the side of your bed.

the excessive stress in life was too overwhelming for you that you didn't know what to or who to talk to. but after being friends with beomgyu for a while you had hoped it was safe to assume it was the right decision to make. and it was.

"yn? I'm on my way there, okay?"

after a few minutes you heard him leave his bike by the front of your house and you opened the door for him. he approached you slowly, observing you for any hesitation towards him, but you crashed your chests together, wrapping your arms around him until your tears soaked into the material of his hoodie.

"hey, it's okay. everything will be okay, I'm here now." his arms were wrapped around you, bringing one hand up so his palm was cradling the back of your head, alternating between still holds and slow caresses.

choi beomgyu. the one who was jealous when you received an anonymous valentine's card that wasn't from him.

"omg beomgyu!! look what I got through the post." you held up a pretty, handwritten card in front of him. you were giggling from the sweet words written on the paper and inside the envelope was a heart-shaped chocolate wrapped in pink tin-foil.

"you got a card?" he huffed. he didn't look as fascinated as you were, taking the card from your fingers and reading the contents of it. let's just say his face wasn't good at hiding how he felt about that.

"oh come on, at least be happy for me. I hardly receive these things." you pout at him, poking his sides until he let out an airy chuckle.

"yeah sure, who wouldn't give you a valentine's day card?" he crossed his arms over his chest, raising a brow at you.

"you?" you joked, nudging his arm. too enamoured by the anonymous card, you read its contents once again before unwrapping the chocolate that came with it.

"ah, yeah ha ha." he faked a laugh, looking down at his open backpack on the floor with a single rose and a valentine's card.

choi beomgyu. the one who helped you get over your first 'relationship'.

"I can't believe they gave you flowers and bought you gifts and still managed to cheat on you." he was shouting at no one in particular. he took you to the top of the hill just in the outskirts of the city where you could watch the sunset over the busy buildings from afar. he'd just be watching you sit cross-legged in the passenger seat, calming yourself down and wiping away the falling tears.

"just say 'I told you so'. I know you want to." you sniffled into the tissue, hiccupping from bawling your eyes out after you called it off with them.

"now why would I do that? hm?" he reached out his hand and took ahold of yours, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand, back and forth. "you deserve so much better than that, yn. someone who would respect you and love you, unlike them. understood?"

you slowly nodded your head, taking in each and every one of his comforting words.

"thank you, gyu." you pushed yourself to give him a genuine smile, and he leaned forward to leave a peck on your temple. "what would I do without you?"

choi beomgyu. the one you shared your first kiss with.

"why'd you call me over? is everything alright?" he sits on your bed, making himself comfortable as he hugs one of your plushies.

"yeah I'm fine. just wanted to hang out with you. it's been a while, you know?" you twiddle with your thumbs, sitting on the opposite end of your bed.

he looks at you with so much adoration and lets out a small humorous huff.

"so... you missed me?" he shuffles closer, placing the plushie on your lap.

"what? pffft, no-" you cross your arms, your eyes falling upon anything and anywhere in your room but at him.

"then I'm okay to just walk out of here-" he gets up but you grab ahold of his wrist, softly tugging him to sit back down.

"no!" you clear your throat, "I mean, please stay."

"then why did you really call me here, yn?" he studies your face, waiting for your eyes to steadily meet his.

you sigh. you had been debating this decision for the longest time, not wanting to ruin what this unexpected friendship had started. and now here you are, scared that you could potentially lose this person you call your best friend.

"I like you." you finally lift your head, locking eyes with his warm, brown ones. "I like you, choi beomgyu. I like the way you play your guitar like it's no one's business. I like how comforting and supportive you've been towards me. I like how you joke around with me and make me laugh. I like how genuine you are with me." your hold loosens around his wrist and your fingers slide down to hook onto his. "and I like that you accept me for who I am."

he looks down at your interlaced fingers, silence on his end.

"gyu, please say something." you worry he's about to reject you. did you just make it weird? was it because you joked he would never give you a valentine's card, and you found the rose and his card after he left your house? is it too late?

in one swift movement, he pulls his fingers away from yours, engulfing you in his arms. he buries his face in the side of your neck, knocking a bit of your breath out of you with a light gasp.

"I've always liked you, yn." he mumbles your neck. "ever since you appeared around the corner in the music shop, I've liked you since then."

you hug him back, smiling to yourself as you shut your eyes. you felt safe in his arms, your breathing matching each other's as you sigh in relief.

"huh- why didn't you say anything?"

"I wear my heart on my sleeve, yn. I'm surprised you never noticed." he chuckles as he pulls back and cups your cheek, his thumb skimming across the warmth of your skin.

he adores you. only you have seen how much he cares, how much effort he puts into his hobbies. only you have shown him what it's like to be with somebody who reciprocates the same emotions.

"I'm sorry I've put you through so much, I'm such a mess sometimes." you struggle to make eye contact with him again.

"if this is about you thinking I would never give you anything for valentine's then stop being silly. I do these things because I like you so so much that I would do them all again in a heartbeat."

"would you really?" you tease, lifting a brow at his statement.

"yes, really." he leans forward to kiss your forehead, something you're familiar with. "I'd go through that again," he kisses the tip of your nose. "and again," placing a kiss on your right cheek. "and again." lastly placing a kiss on your left cheek.

"gyu, I'm so lucky to have met you." your foreheads rest against each other. your eyes flickering from his and then to the cupid's bow of his lips and back to his eyes again.

"if you would let me, can I be your person?" he whispers, his lips inching closer to yours.

"be my person, gyu." you whisper back.

you both slowly lean in until your lips touch, moving slowly in tandem to your hearts beating in sync. it feels soft and gentle, yet you could feel so much emotion at the same time. a smile on his lips was forming against yours, making you chuckle in the kiss.

choi beomgyu. your best friend who you call your first love.

taglist: @bb-eilish @iggynor4 @ericyjun @bluejin0812 @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @kyrkitten @hyuntaena @day6andetcetera @amethysts-1620 @gorechoi-backup @dainsleif-when-playable @choiwrld @yjusei @feyregels @dearkamal @ahnneyong @potaeto-writes-on-wp @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @ttyunz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @vatterie @yunkiwii @prodsh00ky @ashxxgyu @onlyforgaeul @aprilisque @ja4hyvn @felix-housewife (send as ask to be part of the taglist or fill in this form)

#kflixnet #hybenet #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu x gn reader #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu oneshot #txt fluff #txt x gn reader #txt x reader #txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt oneshot

677 notes · View notes

c-e-d-dreamer · 7 months

Text

Wreck My Plans, That's My Man

A/N: listen. Look at me. Does this make sense? Is it technically logical? No. It's horny vibes only here, and I need you to roll with it. Anyways! This was all inspired by this beautiful piece of art, and then I was enabled and encouraged and basically wrote this whole thing in like 48 hours... Enjoy? NSFW warning!

Read on AO3

“Hey, Nes, have you seen—”

Cassian's voice trails off, and Nesta hears the distinct sound of keys jangling. She rolls her eyes fondly as she goes back to her book, burrowing deeper against the stack of pillows at her back. She doesn't look up, even as she listens to his boots against the hardwood coming closer, even as that familiar scent of smoke and pine washes over her, even as a sweet kiss is pressed to her hair.

Only when she's finished the page does she slide her bookmark into place and tilt her head back, meeting a pair of bright hazel eyes and a wide, soft smile meant only for her. Cassian is dressed in his usual all black show attire, ripped jeans clinging to his thighs and the low cut of his tank showing off the thick muscles of his arms, the wide breadth of his shoulders and chest, the lines of black ink winding across his golden skin.

“I left your pass on the hook by the door,” Cassian explains, scraping his hair back and out of his face before securing it with a hair-tie. “Are you thinking you'll drive? I can make sure they open the lot for you.”

“No, I'll just get an Uber, and then drive home with you after.”

“Perfect.”

Cassian leans down, slotting their lips together, and Nesta practically melts against him, sighing into the kiss. Too soon, he's pulling away, stealing one last peck to her lips before murmuring his goodbyes and heading for the door. Nesta slumps back against the pillows, closing her eyes and giving herself just one more moment. With a soft sigh, she tosses the blanket off her legs and heaves herself up, padding down the hall to their bedroom to shower and start getting ready.

Nesta’s phone dings where it’s sitting on her vanity, letting her know that her Uber driver is approaching. She takes a moment to straighten out her skirt, to tug up the strap of her lacy, red top. She grabs her phone and her purse, rushing toward the front door. Thankfully, her pass really is right where Cassian left it, and it’s easy enough to toss it on, easy enough to tug on her shoes and her leather jacket, zipping it up to fight off the late October chill.

There’s more traffic than Nesta anticipates, and by the time her Uber driver is dropping her off in front of the venue, they’ve already opened the doors, the queue shuffling forward and people moving about the sidewalk with excitement. It still blows Nesta’s mind seeing the way the queue stretches all the way down the block and around the corner, seeing all these people in tour shirts and with wide grins, all to see the Bat Boys.

“Excuse me,” Nesta says to one of the venue workers directing people. “Which way is the stage door?”

The worker turns his attention to her fully, not even hiding the way he sweeps his eyes over her. When his gaze raises to her eyes again, his face is unimpressed, and he lets out a near derisive snort. “Nice try. Keep dreaming those Wattpad dreams.”

Nesta doesn’t bother biting back her scowl or her eyeroll, practically glaring daggers at the worker as he turns away.

“Guess I’ll find it myself,” she mutters to herself, weaving her way toward the side of the venue building.

“Oh my gosh! Imagine if Cassian points right at you tonight!”

The words give Nesta pause, and she turns to find a couple of girls in the queue. They have their hair and makeup done up, one clad jeans and the other in a short, leather skirt. And both of them have handmade, matching tees declaring ‘Cassian’s Future Wife.’

It had started as a bit. Cassian had informed Nesta that he would be dedicating a song to her on their last tour, a sweet more acoustic number he had penned himself, but when he introduced it to the crowd, he’d instead declared it was for his future wife. Nesta had been pink the entire rest of the night, cheeks and ears burning, but the reaction only seemed to spur Cassian on until he was making the same announcement every night, every show where she was in the audience.

“Imagine if he pulls me out of the crowd and invites me back to his place after the show,” the girl in the skirt offers to her friend.

“Once he sees you, he totally would.”

“I bet he’s amazing in bed too. He’d rock my world, and then I’d be like no need to look any further. You found your future wife.”

The girls laugh and practically squeal in agreement, but Nesta has to swallow down a scoff. She doesn’t know why the conversation scrapes across her skin, why it grates against her nerves. She knows that Cassian and his brothers have a large female following for their band. She knows that she’s the one who asked to keep their relationship more private. She knows that it’s their bed he comes home to each night, that she’s the one he wakes with soft kisses and quiet good mornings, that she gets the ‘I love you’s and the smiles just for her.

But there’s no denying the anger that starts to lick through Nesta’s veins, fire crackling and flaring beneath her skin. There’s no denying the annoyance that twists through her stomach, tightening like vines in her chest. It takes everything within her to bite her tongue around the words she wants to sneer, instead shouldering past the girls and through the crowds to continue her trek toward the side of the building.

When she reaches the back of the building, she spots Cassian's truck in the lot. The pair of stagehands smoking and the big, burly security guard standing near an otherwise nondescript metal door let her know she's found what she's looking for. She unzips her jacket enough that she can pull free her pass, flashing it, but rather than letting her in, the security guard holds out his arm to stop her. His eyes narrow suspiciously, sweeping over her and squinting at her pass.

It has Nesta's anger burning into full-blown rage, into a living, writhing thing that digs its claws into her chest and begs to be released. Her boyfriend is in there. Her boyfriend. And she won't have these people looking at her like she's just some groupie. Won't have these girls thinking they're going home with Cassian.

She's about to give in to the fire, to give in to the cool words poised and ready on the tip of her tongue, when the stage door swings open. Nesta just barely steps back in time before Balthazar goes barreling into her, and she watches as the photographer all but runs to where his SUV is parked, rooting around in his back seat. He jogs back toward the door, pausing when he realizes who's standing there.

“Hey, Nesta,” Balthazar greets with an easy grin, holding up the small case now in his hands. “Need a new SD card already.”

“You know her?” the security guard asks.

Balthazar lets out a quiet laugh. “Seriously?”

He doesn't say anything more, merely shakes his head and vanishes back inside, but at least it's enough to have the security guard look sheepish. At least, he holds the door open and finally allows Nesta to step inside. The steady thrum of bass and drums pulses beneath Nesta's feet, a raspy, feminine voice floating on the air to her, and she knows that the supporting act has already gone on and started the show.

With determined steps, Nesta weaves her way around stagehands and equipment, making her way toward the back of the stage. She slips behind the black curtain splitting the stage in two and hiding the Bat Boys' setup until it's their time, finding Cassian right where she expects him: sitting at his drum kit, casually twirling a drumstick between his fingers while he nods along to the band playing in front of the curtain. Nesta doesn't know if he hears or if he's just always able to sense where she is in a room, but his eyes snap to hers in an instant, that slow, soft grin tugging its way across his face.

“I was beginning to think you were going to stand me up,” Cassian teases lightly when she's close enough.

“I just had to deal with a bunch of shit,” Nesta grumbles, dropping her purse to the ground.

Because she can, she tosses her leg over Cassian's own, straddling his hips. The seat is small but she makes it work, pressing close to him and looping her arms across his shoulders. Cassian's own hands find her hips with ease, holding her steady.

“What kind of shit?”

“Just stupid people.”

Cassian hums, dropping his head so his forehead rests against her collarbones, his thumbs tracing soothing circles against her hip bones. “At least you're here now.”

Nesta hums her own agreement, trying to let the feel of him pressed against her soothe her still sparking nerves. She reaches a hand up, tugging free the hair-tie from Cassian's hair and slipping it onto her wrist for safe keeping. She runs her fingers through the dark, curly strands, scraping her nails against his scalp in the way she knows he loves.

“I had to deal with getting past your little fan club,” Nesta continues, pressing a bit harder with her nails until she feels Cassian sigh against her.

“What can I say? I'm an expert at stealing hearts,” Cassian offers, his voice muffled against her skin, as his hands slide down to the backs of her thighs, teasing just beneath the hem of her skirt.

“There's even a group of girls in the audience with shirts that say 'Cassian's future wife.'”

Cassian pulls his head back, his eyes practically glinting even in the low light of this part of the stage. “Are there?”

Nesta yanks hard on his hair, tugging his head back enough that his entire throat is on display for her. It gives her the perfect view for the way he swallows hard, the way his eyelashes flutter around his darkening hazel eyes.

“But they don't stand a chance, do they?” Nesta snaps, her tone cold and demanding.

Cassian's already shaking his head despite her grip, his expression dazed, before she even finishes speaking. “Not a chance in hell, sweetheart. No one compares to you.”

“Because you're all mine, aren't you?”

“All yours,” Cassian groans, his hips bucking up against her own, pressing his growing hardness against her ass. “Fuck, you're so hot, baby.”

“And you're going to prove it.” It's a statement, not a question, nor a request, and Nesta grinds and circles her hips down against him, chasing the friction, the heat already building between her thighs.

Cassian's hands tighten, sliding further up until he's grasping her ass fully beneath her skirt. “I'll do whatever you want me to.”

“That's what I like to hear,” Nesta tells him, dragging her nail down his temple and cheek and relishing in the full body shudder that takes over Cassian's body. “You're going to touch me, make me come, and then I'm going to fuck you until I'm the only thing you'll think about for the rest of the night, until no other woman will be able to get close to you without smelling sex and my perfume all over you.”

“We only have forty minutes until the show.”

“Better hurry then.”

Rather than let Cassian say anything more, Nesta crashes her mouth against his, nipping and biting at his lips and pressing her tongue into his mouth. Cassian groans as he kisses her back just as hungrily, using his grip on her to move and rock their hips together. One of his hands reaches between them, sliding two fingers over her still clothed center, and Nesta has to pull back to gasp, her hips stuttering at the pressure.

“Fuck, I love how you're always so wet for me,” Cassian whispers against her lips, tracing a teasing circle across her clit. “Absolutely soaked, sweetheart.”

“Less talking, more following directions,” Nesta chastises, canting her hips more firmly against his hand. “We're on a time limit, remember?”

Cassian hums his agreement, slotting their lips back together. At the same moment, he tugs her panties to the side, wasting no time and sinking two fingers inside her. Nesta practically whimpers into his mouth at the stretch, a sound Cassian greedily swallows. He holds his fingers still, and Nesta clenches down around them, hoping to encourage him to move.

“Cassian,” Nesta whines high in the back of her throat, trying to shift her hips against him.

But Cassian uses his free hand to hold her firmly in place, to hold her still against him. He slowly pulls his fingers out, dragging against her walls, before pressing them deep again, just as slow.

“You're just as much mine, you know,” Cassian breathes hotly, repeating the same motion. “You think I don't see every guy and girl staring at you every time we go out?”

“I don't even notice them,” Nesta promises, sliding her hands down to Cassian's shoulders and digging her nails into the skin there. “Besides, at least none of them think they're going to be my future spouse.”

“I bet they want to be.”

“I bet they want to see what I look like when I come too. Maybe, I should ask them to help me instead, since you'd clearly rather take your sweet time.”

Cassian growls, curling his fingers, and Nesta knows that she's won. He starts to work his fingers in earnest, pressing in deep and hard the way he knows she loves. When his thumb joins in, pressing at her clit in tandem, Nesta slumps forward against him. She drops her forehead to his shoulder and bites hard at her bottom lip to quiet the moans and whimpers threatening to spill from her throat. Already, her blood sings, pleasure firing from her every nerve ending, and it's all focused where Cassian's fingers sink into her over and over again.

“Is this what you want, Nes?” He whispers right against her ear. “Is this how I prove it to you?”

“Yes. Fuck, don't stop,” Nesta gasps, turning her head enough that she can dig her teeth into his pulse point, sucking the skin between her lips until she's sure she left a mark.

Cassian's fingers stutter for a moment, and Nesta feels more than she hears the groan trapped in his throat. But since the moment she met him, Cassian has never backed down from a challenge, never allowed himself to be out done. And Nesta has never been more thankful. He squeezes in a third finger, curling all three and pressing against her clit, Nesta's whole body lighting up at the sensation.

He plays her body the way nobody else can, the way that only comes from learning each other's bodies over the years. Every slide, every curl, every press of his fingers sends Nesta cresting higher and higher. Heat pools low in her gut, her whole body tightening and pulling taut as her cunt flutters around Cassian's fingers.

“Come for me, baby. I can feel you're close. Be my good girl and come all over my fingers.”

The praise is all Nesta needs to go crashing head first through her orgasm. She bites at Cassian's shoulder to keep quiet, clenching hard and practically shaking against him. Cassian continues to work her through it, his fingers unrelenting and dragging her orgasm out.

Only when Nesta reaches down and squeezes his wrist, the overstimulation too much, does Cassian slip his fingers free. He brings his hand up to his face, sticking his tongue out and lapping at the pads of his fingers with a soft groan. Nesta is quick to grab his wrist, guiding his hand closer and sucking his fingers into her own mouth. She keeps her eyes on his, not breaking eye contact as she slowly glides and swirls her tongue over each digit.

“Fuck,” Cassian mutters, his hips bucking up as if of their own accord.

The movement reminds Nesta of what's still to come, of the hard length practically waiting for her. It has her blood heating again already, has her feeling empty and clenching around nothing. She pulls her mouth away with a quiet pop, reaching her hands eagerly toward his belt.

“I need you,” Nesta whines, all but yanking the button open and tugging Cassian's jeans and boxers down enough that she can free his cock.

She fists it tightly in her grip, squeezing at the base before sliding her hand up and down, spreading the precum already weeping from the tip. It takes some awkward maneuvering on the too small seat, but Nesta is able to raise herself up enough that she can line him up with her entrance, that she can sink down. No matter how many times they do this, Nesta doesn't think she'll ever get used to the feel of him, the stretch. There's no biting back her moan once he's finally seated to the hilt.

“Mother, save me,” Cassian groans, clearly just as affected. “You take me so well, baby. Nothing feels like you.”

“That's right,” Nesta tells him, clenching around him. “No other cunt will ever squeeze you like this.”

“Good.” Cassian buries a hand in her hair and kisses her hard, tugging her bottom lip between his teeth. “Because no other cock can fill you like mine can.”

Despite Nesta's words earlier, her promise to fuck him until she's all he thinks about, it's Cassian that takes control. His hands grip her hips, guiding her up and down his cock, while he uses his planted feet to thrust up into her hard and fast. Nesta loves it. She loves the way he presses deep with every slap of their hips together. She loves the way she knows she'll have bruises for days across her hip bones.

She buries her hands in Cassian's hair and slams their mouths back together, breathing every moan and whimper past his lips and swallowing his every answering groan. Every snap of his hips, every drag of his cock has Nesta's toes curling in her shoes. Her cunt flutters and clenches around him, desperate to pull him in deeper, to keep him here right where he belongs, keeping her full and stretched.

She knows Cassian is close from the way his hips start to stutter, so she drops a hand between their bodies, finding her clit with ease and working it in time with their movements. It's almost too much. The sensation and feel of their bodies coming together. The sight of Cassian with a flush clinging to his cheeks, with his hazel eyes nearly swallowed whole by his blown out pupils, with his hair a mess from her fingers. He's beautiful and he's hers, and she can feel herself teetering closer and closer to that ledge.

“Come on, Nes,” Cassian pants, pressing their forehead together. “Ladies first. Want to feel you squeezing me. Want to be drenched with you. Come all over my cock.”

Like a marionette on his strings, Nesta's body gives in to his request. She comes hard enough that spots dance in her vision, and she just barely has the foresight to press her free hand to her mouth, biting into her palm to quiet her shout.

Cassian's hips are unrelenting as he chases his own high, as is his still rambling mouth. “That's my good girl. That's it, baby. Fuck, you're so fucking beautiful.”

A few more thrusts, and Cassian buries his face against Nesta's shoulder and groans her name. He practically shakes as he finds his own release, hips still moving shallowly as he spills inside her.

Nesta slumps forward against his chest with a blissful sigh, her body wrung out in the best way. Cassian's arms curl tight around her, holding her close to him, and he turns his head enough that he can press a kiss into her hair.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” Cassian murmurs against her hair. “You should get jealous over crazy fangirls more often.”

Nesta rolls her eyes at the comment, nipping at his skin in retaliation. She sits up enough that she can reach over and grab her discarded purse on the floor, rooting around until she finds the tube of lipstick buried there. She makes quick work swiping the bright red color across her lips, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Cassian's chest, right above the neckline of his tank, right above his heart.

She tilts her head and hums appreciatively, admiring her work, but then Cassian's hands are sliding along her jaw, cradling her face and pulling her into a deep, languid kiss. When they break apart, his mouth is smeared with red. Nesta drags her thumb across his lips to try and help, but it only seems to make it worse, only seems to further emphasize the swollen and kiss-bitten state of them.

“Sorry,” Nesta offers with a wince. “We seem to have made a mess.”

“Good,” Cassian tells her, not even bothering to bite back his smirk.

“You are insufferable.”

“Says the woman still sitting on my cock.”

Nesta scoffs, but she shifts off his lap and to her feet, keeping her thighs pressed tightly together until they can get to the bathroom and clean up properly. It's a slow and awkward walk, especially with Cassian all but plastered along her back, unable to let her go just yet.

When they step out of the bathroom, his brothers are already there and waiting. Between the disheveled state of Cassian's hair and clothes, the lipstick stains and nail marks on his skin, and his wide, shit eating grin, there's no mistaking what happened. Nesta awkwardly clears her throat, tucking a strand of hair that came loose back behind her ear.

“I don't even want to know,” Rhysand mutters. “But we're on, so let's go.”

Cassian leans down, pressing one last kiss to Nesta's cheek. “Stay backstage tonight.”

Nesta frowns at the strange request. She and Feyre always claim one of the balcony boxes for their shows. “Why?”

“Just stay backstage,” is all Cassian offers as he backs away toward the stage lights, toward the screaming fans beyond.

A wink in her direction and he spins around, jogging the rest of the way onto the stage. Nesta can do nothing but continue to frown in confusion, nothing but watch as Cassian and his brothers play the opening song of their set. Only when there's a quiet, surprised laugh from her left does Nesta finally pull her attention away, finding Feyre now standing beside her. At Nesta's questioning look, Feyre holds out her phone, showing off the tweet she has pulled up. It's a photo, clearly taken from the audience, zoomed in and cropped so it shows Cassian behind his drum kit.

To whoever fucked this man's brains out before the concert, I want to say thank you for this look, but also I wish that was ME!!!

The replies to the tweet aren't much better, and already Nesta can feel heat creeping up her neck and threatening to spill across her cheeks.

Hate to see someone else living MY dream

Someone get the FBI on the phone to analyze and find the owner of that lipstick mark! Whose lips are those?

Wordlessly, Nesta hands Feyre's phone back to her, keeping her focus on the stage, on the Bat Boys as they continue their set. It's not long before Nesta knows what song is coming next, her eyes automatically snapping to Cassian's in anticipation, but for once, he pulls his microphone free from its stand and stands up, stepping out from behind his drum kit.

“Velaris, how are we doing tonight?” Cassian greets, earning an echo of screams in response. “Now, you may not know this, but this venue holds a very special place in my heart. You see, a few years back we played here, opening for a little band you might know called The Band of Exiles.”

More screams from the audience at that mention. It has Nesta shaking her head fondly. She still remembers that night, remembers Feyre dragging her and Elain along to see her old school friend's Lucien's band. One night and now all three of them are with musicians. Nesta is sure if their mother was still alive, she'd hate it.

“Great show,” Rhysand comments idly into his own microphone.

“Great tour,” Cassian agrees with a nod. “But you see, what really made that night special was that there was someone in the audience. Someone I wrote this next song about. Someone who for once isn't in the audience but backstage.”

Cassian gestures with his arm to where Nesta's standing, and she can do nothing but stare in shock. She feels like a deer in headlights, her eyes wide and jaw slackened, as Cassian gestures for her with his head. A hard shove in the back from Feyre has Nesta stumbling forward out onto the stage and bright lights.

“What are you doing?” Nesta seethes quietly, walking over to Cassian awkwardly.

“Just remember, Nes,” Cassian tells her, holding a hand over his microphone so it won't pick up their voices. “If you kill me, you'd miss me too much.”

“Cassian.”

“Nesta, I love you so much, it clearly makes me stupid,” Cassian begins, speaking into his microphone again. “It makes me want to shout it from the rooftops, but I suppose this is the next best thing. Since the day that I met you, I knew that you were it for me, that you were going to be my future wife, but what do you say we make it official?” There's no stopping Nesta's gasp as Cassian drops to one knee. “Nesta Archeron, will you marry me?”

In that moment, everything else fades away, the stage, the band, the lights, the crowd. All there is Cassian. Cassian with his bright hazel eyes and his warm, easy laugh. Cassian with his teasing remarks and a fire to twine and match with her own. Cassian with his quiet comfort and the strength and safety in his embrace. Cassian who looked at her nicked and bruised heart and told her it was perfect. Cassian who carved out a place in his chest for her just as surely as she did for him.

“Yes,” Nesta somehow pushes out around the emotions clogging her throat, around the tears prickling in her eyes.

Cassian's answering grin is radiant. He slides the ring onto Nesta's finger, jumping to his feet and pulling her into a kiss. The crowd erupting into loud cheers around them pulls Nesta firmly back to the present. She tries to slip away backstage again, but Cassian catches her hand in his, tugging her to his drum kit and onto his lap, her back pressed firmly to his chest.

“This next song,” Cassian announces into his microphone, picking up his drumsticks again. “Is dedicated to my wife!”

Thankfully, Nesta is able to scurry away after the song. She's pulled into a bone crushing hug by Feyre as soon as she steps backstage, a squealing Elain on FaceTime from whatever city she and Lucien are in today. Various members of the crew offer their own congratulations, Balthazar promising he got some great photos of the whole thing, and Nesta thanks them all quietly. Her heart still pounds between her ribs, the anxiety of being on the stage still swirling in her gut, but as she looks at the ring now glinting on her finger, there’s no fighting the smile that tugs up her lips. No denying the happiness bubbling within her at the future now before her. No denying the warmth that blooms in her chest, tying as securely around her heart as a golden thread.

Nesta lets out a squeal of surprise when strong arms wrapped around her waist suddenly, spinning her around and walking her back until her back is pressed against the wall. Cassian’s eyes are especially bright, sweat still clinging to his face and his skin from their set, further smearing the lipstick stains she left on him.

“Hello, wife,” Cassian greets with a wide grin, caging her in and leaning down and brushing his nose against hers.

“You know just because you proposed, that doesn't actually mean we're married yet.”

“Semantics.”

Nesta rolls her eyes fondly, even as she slips her own arms around Cassian’s waist, keeping him pressed close. “And how long have you been planning this?”

“Like a month? Maybe two?” Cassian offers, shrugging easily.

“And yet you didn't want to stop me when I was being mean earlier?”

“I love it when you're mean,” Cassian tells her, his hands reaching up between them to cradle her jaw. He tilts her face up to him, kissing her sweetly. “I can’t wait for you to be mean to me for the rest of our lives.”

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @books-books-books4ever @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acosf #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #my fic

183 notes · View notes

psychotic-nonsense · 26 days

Text

Steve Harrington doesn't expect today to be anything special.

His kid, Dustin, is out in the garage hanging out with his friend Lucas. It's a calm spring evening, and there isn't a single call coming from the phone asking for his services. The former handy man turned jack of all trades has a day off, and he's taking the chance to catch up on the fantasy book Dustin picked up for him on his last trip to the library.

He's older than he once thought he could be, he's alive, and he's happy.

He's mid sip of his sweet tea - recipe courtesy of the Byers family - when someone suddenly comes in through the front door. Mr. Harrington jumps, closes the book with a dog-eared page ("Terrible habits, sir, terrible terrible habits," says a voice from the past in his head). But then Dustin walks into view, and while he's not entirely calmed, he's less startled.

"Hey there, big guy," his starts calmly, but his mood quickly sombers when he gets a full look at his son. "Everything okay?"

Something's off. Dustin's coming in through the front door, not the back door that's easier to get to from the garage. Lucas isn't with him, and Mr. Harrington's old acoustic guitar is in his hands ("Be careful, love, you might end up as our backup," says the voice with a wink he can still see). But most importantly, Dustin looks nervous. Sad, even, and Mr. Harrington never lets that kind of face linger long in this household.

"Yeah, I'm okay, dad..." Dustin mumbles, pausing in the front hall, staring down at the guitar. His eyes look far away. "I was just wondering, um... you know that band group that I'm friends with?" Dustin looks up, directing all of that pain right at his father, stabbing at his heart.

"Yeah, your buddies on that forum, right?" Mr. Harrington says cautiously. He's leaning forward on his knees now, book discarded to a side table to give Dustin his full attention. "Were they telling you something? Is Lucas okay?"

"No, yeah, Lucas is fine, his mom called," Dustin quickly mutters, briefly distracting the nervous tension in his face with a shaking head. He takes a deep breath, releasing it in one big huff as he holds the guitar tighter. "So, you remember how I told you we were all helping each other? You know, learning how to write songs?"

"Yeah?" Mr. Harrington affirms, gently encouraging him to go on.

"Well, um..." Dustin looks away again, down at his feet shuffling in the carpet. "The- the lead singer of that band? Said he wanted some feedback on one, so uh..." His eyes glance at the guitar in his arms before meeting his father's eyes again.

Mr. Harrington huffs a small sigh of relief, a smile overtaking him. Nothing's wrong, it's just Dustin wanting to share a song with his dad, and he's nervous. Mr. Harrington has nothing to worry about ("A one man crowd? Gotta make this really memorable then," says the voice, teasing words but a soft, scared, nervous tone). "Yeah yeah, of course, kid, I'd be honored."

But then why is Dustin still so tense when he nods? Why are his eyes still so sad when he sits on the couch opposite Mr. Harrington, while he tunes the guitar? Why does he keep looking at the empty space beside him, growing more anxious each time?

"Take your time buddy, it's okay," Mr. Harrington tries to reassure, but Dustin doesn't look up.

Instead he sits there, breathing deeply a few times. Looks over at the other end of the couch, blinks a few times before nodding to himself, turning back. His left hand runs over the frets a few times, other hand coming up to rub at his eyes-

Oh god, he's crying. And his dad is just sitting there, helpless and useless. Mr. Harrington's heart is impaled once again and he reaches up, wanting to try and fix this, to help.

But then Dustin's hands are settling on the guitar, determination joining the mix of sadness and anxiety, and Mr. Harrington is forced to sit back and watch.

Because Dustin starts playing.

He's heard the music from outside the garage walls. He's bought plenty of guitars for Dustin to play over the years, heard many types of genres coming from under the secrecy of that roof. It's Dustin's thing, his hidden passion outside of science and fantasy, so Mr. Harrington has let him have the privacy, keeping his pride tamed for his son's sake.

So to finally see Dustin playing is like pride tenfold, longing grasping his heart tight when he sees how Dustin leans into the music ("We're the few good ones left, dear... We just feel it differently from others, you know?" bemoans the voice in his head). How his eyes close, the tension in his body loosening as music echoes from the guitar's.

And it's a beautiful melody. Simple, like all good things are, but melancholic. Longing incarnate. Nothing he was expecting from this, but he never wants it to end. It feels like lost love, regrets...

But then the singing starts.

"First things first

We start the scene in reverse

All of the lines rehearsed

Disappear from my mind"

Faint and echoing. Barely audible at first, but steadily growing in sound as Dustin plays. Ethereal, Mr. Harrington remembers from the book. That describes it.

It's not Dustin, he's too focused on the guitar. And his voice cracks on words this quiet, his tone off no matter what genre he's singing along to. Gets it from his dad.

It's almost familiar. Sounds like home.

"When things got loud

One of us running out

I should have turned around

But I had too much pride"

Suddenly, something shifts in the air. It feels cold, like soft wind in a breath, then going tingly. The light pattering of winter's first snow.

There's a window behind Dustin, the evening light shining through the blinds and curtains lighting everything in a warm glow. If he wasn't watching Dustin, he wouldn't have seen it. The beams being cast on the couch beside Dustin are slightly bright... and are swiftly getting brighter.

"No time for goodbyes

Didn't get to apologize

Pieces of a clock that lies broken"

Before his eyes, the sunlight starts moving, swirling and disconnecting into little beads of light. It shifts colors, a gradient of orange and reds, purple and blue, a hazy cloud slowly materializing on the couch.

It's shaping into something, moving into specific sections to the music and words. Changing color all the while, blacks and reds appearing deeper, a figure coming through the shape. The voice keeps getting louder, screaming familiarity at Mr. Harrington-

Then in a flash, it solidifies, and everything else fades away. No room, no weather, no sense.

Just music and singing and... and him.

"If I could take us back

If I could just do that

I'd write in every empty space

The words 'I love you' in replace

And every time would not erase me"

He's sitting on the couch next to Dustin, almost laying down. Leaning back against the arm rest, knees bunched up on the cushion but shoes hanging off the side. His clothes look aged compared to nowadays, but it's the same flannel and black ripped jeans and chains as the faithful day they lost each other.

Oh god, his voice has the same gorgeous vibrato, words flowing from his lips like poetry. His hair has the same soft curly bounce, product keeping it infinitely safe. His face, his hands, his presence remains unchanged.

He's not looking up, doesn't have to for those deep amber doe eyes to be so visible. He's messing with his rings while he sings, watching the silver glint in the light that created him. Doesn't hide how sad, how longing and lonely he looks and sounds here in this place.

A hand is coming up to Mr. Harrington's chest, tears blotting his vision and he's not ashamed of blinking them into reality, can't let himself look away from this.

It's him, it's him, dear god, the man he thought he lost over 30 years ago, the man he thought left behind their love by choice while he had never let it go, who's voice and presence never left his mind, who he thought would come back but never did and couldn't have, he's ghostly and gone, he's gone but it's him, his love, Steve's love, finally here after so long...

"If you could only know

I never let you go

And the words I most regret

Are the ones I never meant to leave..."

His voice starts cracking, that sweet pretty voice breaking. His face crumbles, hands trembling and it breaks Steve in two and he wants to reach out and help, he wants but he can't-

Then he finally looks up. Their eyes meet and there's relief and longing and pain and sorrow in both of their eyes because they're seeing each other, finally finally finally, after so long...

"Unsaid Emily..."

Sung in a whisper to the strumming of his son.

Munson.

Eddie Munson.

Steve's sweet, dear Eddie Munson.

He came back...

He finally came home...

#Julie and the Phantoms Steddie AU anybody? :'D #was thinking about this song again n figured i should make it a full thing #gotta rewatch the show to get the lore right but anyway #steve is dustin's dad in the 20-somethings i dunno when exactly yet #corroded coffin is the ghost band that dustin can see #their unfinished business is eddie's who was dating steve in the 80-90s before they had a fight and eddie left the same night the band died #and cc sticks together even in their lead guitarist's relationship drama #would keep going but later #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #dustin henderson #lil cameo from #lucas sinclair #julie and the phantoms #sorry jatp fans a steddie infiltrated your place

60 notes · View notes

thatone-brightstar · 8 months

Text

More than all the stars (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader) (The Bear & The Fox Series)

Chapter 1: Peelers, pears & 'I'll be there's

Words: 3.8k

summary: Packing up the old, to bring in the new.

a/n: Hi, hope you enjoy! Remember comments, likes and reposts are truly appreciated even in old chapters. Also a lot of fluff cuz i think these two are missing it lol

Prologue.

Carmy had left a few hours ago, before sunlight could even break through the frosted windows and with you almost not noticing it. He made it past your bed and to the opened door on soft steps, but the heel of his boot scraped the wood unnecessarily hard; and a light shuffle from the bed followed the noise instantly.

“Carmy?” You asked quietly, voice muffled by the thickness of the comforter.

You shuffled again to push yourself up as Carmy made his way to your side, leaning over you.

“Hey, yeah sorry- I didn’t wanna wake you…” He gently pushed your shoulder back to the mattress and watched you tuck both palms between the pillow and your cheek. “I gotta go in early, but you get some sleep, okay?”

He leaned down to place a soft kiss over your temple, making you smile and move closer to the hand coming over your hair.

“Okay…” You mumbled back without bothering to open your eyes. “I’ll go visit later.”

“Yeah, sure. Get some rest.”

Carmy gave you a final kiss and before he could pull his hand away from your face, yours reached for it, giving it a light kiss on the discolored ‘S’ under his knuckles.

“Love you, Bear.” You said letting him go and pulled the covers over you once more.

“Love you, Bear.” He repeated without a thought.

His boot scraped the wood again once he noticed the naturality of the words and a sudden wave of cold anxiety washed over him in fear that you might have heard them. He turned his head to the cocoon of blankets you were buried under- undisturbed- and let out a breath of relief. He quickly made his way out the bedroom and past the apartment door into the hall, pushing back the crazy thought that has haunted him for later.

The freezing Chicago weather had kept you in bed for as long as possible, afraid of the chill that would seep through your socks once your feet stepped on the wooden floors. Still, you couldn’t stay more than usual once awake and instead forced yourself up and out to make something of your only day off. With a cup of fresh coffee in your hands and your hair still wet from the warm shower, you took a seat in front of your recently arranged studio in Carmy’s living room- your shared living room.

It still felt strange to call it that, because despite the fact that you had been sleeping at his place for a while now, living together was a whole different situation. You felt like so much had happened in a short period of time that there was still a lot you tried to wrap your head around. From the money, to Joyce’s wedding, to moving in with Carmy, all in under a month.

As your mind wanders away in all the ways your life has changed, your attention is swept away by swirls of light yellows, greens and reds that bounce bright over a shimmering lake. Carmy’s stereo plays one of the usual acoustic songs you use to fill the room while you work on the details, back hunched over in concentration. A few vertebrae pop in protest once you finally straighten your posture and move to rinse your hands of the paint.

Twenty minutes later and despite the cold, you shut the main door to the building and turn in direction to the one coffee shop Carmy likes, the one he always boasted about having the best hash browns in the city, and wait your turn in line to order.

You hadn’t been able to help as much at The Beef, the gallery had been buzzing with patrons since the charity event, that you rarely got a chance to leave the building before sundown. Many times you thought you’d reach the restaurant in time, but as everyone was leaving, covered in grime from head to toe, a part of you grew guilty for not being able to help as much as you’d like. So your contribution would come today in the form of coffee and lunch, because knowing Syd and your boyfriend, eating was probably the last thing on their mind.

Once your order is done and you have to juggle the sandwiches and steaming cups in your arms, the idea to go back for the car pops into your head. But you haven’t tried driving on your own yet and it doesn’t sound so appealing the more you think about it. Instead, you rearrange the paper bags and cup holders into a more comfortable grip and walk the twelve minutes it takes you to reach The Beef- ‘The Bear’ you correct in your head.

By the time you get there, your nose has grown red from the cold and your gloved hands almost lose their grip on the flimsy cup holders.

“G’mornin, hands please!” You yell once you manage to pry the front door open, in hopes that anyone is close enough to hear you.

“Me! I got hands, I’m comin’!” You hear Neil shout from where the steward section used to be, then you hear his shoes and the jingle of his keys move quickly towards you. “Ooh, is that chorizo!?” He asks sniffing around, taking the bags from your hands.

“Yeah- dude you got a good nose…”

“Thanks, my bro says I’m like a Bloodhound when it comes to food- can I?”

“Yeah, go ‘head.”

“Sweet…”

“Hey-” Syd greets you as she enters the room and offers you a quick side hug. “How’s apartment hunting?”

“Fuckin’ nightmare…” You grumble and carefully hand her the Chai with her name scribbled on it, then yell “I brought family! Come get it before Fak eats it all!”.

Ignoring the small ‘I’m not gonna eat it all’ from the man beside you, you begin pulling the aluminum wrappers and gently stack them over a paper bag to avoid the dust. One by one, the guys come littering in, with tired expressions over their faces, greeting you and grabbing a cup.

“Why don’t you just stay where you are now?” She asks, unwrapping her sandwich.

“Cause Carmy’s landlord’s an asshole.”

“Carmy’s an asshole?” Marcus jokes, walking past you with a smile and ruffling your hair the way an older brother would.

You roll your eyes and swat his hand away. “Y’know, I’m really lovin’ all this contribution to the conversation.”

“Why’s your landlord an asshole?”

You sigh deep and take a sip of your cup. “Since it states in the contract that it’s only being rented for one person, a.k.a. Carmy, me being there is a violation, which breaks the contract, which means he can raise the rent cause he’s an-”

“Asshole.” Marcus finishes up for you and you point towards him in agreement. “Got it.”

“Wait, he can’t do that, can he?” Syd asks through a frown.

“I guess, I don’t know, I don’t know any lawyers.”

Her head immediately turns to Gary, whose attention is fully involved in the blueberry muffin in his hands. He raises his head at the sensation of your stares and after a few seconds asks;

“Is it rent controlled?”

“No.”

“Carmy bother to ask for a copy of the contract?”

“...no.”

“Then no. Sorry.” He answers with a shrug and digs back into his muffin. “...man I love these things…”

You sigh and look at Syd again, your eyes travel down to the familiar shade of blue, recognition cocking your head lightly to the side. “Is that my sweater?”

She looks down from her sandwich and shakes her head, stretching out her arm so you can see the little embroidered name on the sleeve. “Matching one’s , remember?”

“Oh, yeah…” You say with a head, remembering the day you bought the matching sweaters, along with the dress for Joyce’s wedding. “I like the little pattern.”

She swallows her bite and gives you a proud smile, posing from side to side so you can see the design better. You snigger at her little movements while everyone falls into a soft hum of conversation, mostly discussing the things that they still have to finish. You’re half way through your coffee when Carmy and Natalie finally walk into the room, immersed in a heated discussion over not having enough budget to cover the cost of ‘some stupidly ridiculous door knobs that no one’s even gonna notice, Carmen.’

“I’m gonna notice, okay?”

“Yeah, well if you’ve got six grand to spare, go pick ‘em up from Italy yourself, they’re a no Carm- hey hun.” Natalie cuts off the conversation by greeting you, leaning in to give you a hug and missing the frown over her brother’s face.

She sighs into the hug, holding on to you longer than usual. You don’t make an effort to move away, instead you rub your palms lightly over her back and ask a quiet ‘Everything okay Nat?’ into her hair.

“Yeah-” She says, pulling away and clearing her throat. “-yeah. Just that time of the month, y’know.”

Natalie brushes your worry away with a thin smile and turns to grab her lunch. Your eyes follow her through the room until she disappears into the kitchen, then you look back to the untouched cup of coffee with her name wrapped around the middle.

You can feel Carmy’s presence lingering beside you and the warmth of his hand on your center back sparks a smile over your lips. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He repeats, bright eyes darting around your soft features as his palm rubs timid circles between your shoulder blades.

Carmy isn’t one for a public display of affection, instead he enjoys the quiet touches. The lingering looks across a crowded room and wrapping his fingers over your soft hand when he thinks no one is looking.

“I brought you hashbrowns.” You say and push a grease stained paper bag in his direction.

“Oh. thanks.” He says only letting you go once the savory scent reaches his nose. You notice the familiar chase of blue again, except now keeping your boyfriend warm and you smile to yourself. “Kasama?” He asks.

“No- I wish, but they’re closed today. It’s Minelli’s from down the street. Second best…”

“Yeah-” He chuckles lightly. “-second best. Thank you.”

Your grin grows to your tinted cheeks, blue irises drawing you in and you look away in fear that your cheeks might burst from cuteness.

“Yo, everyone say thank you for the food?” Carmy asks loudly around the room.

A chorus of jumbled up yes dad’s and thank you’s echoes back and makes you laugh. “It’s no problem. I was planning on helping out today anyway-”

Carmy shakes his head and chews faster, wiping the crumbs of the hashbrown off his hands and onto the sides of his jeans.

“Thank you, but no- you’ve already done enough-” He tries to dismiss before Syd cuts him off.

“That’s perfect actually- I need someone to finish packing dishware.”

“Yeah, I can do that-”

“-No…”

“-Carmy-”

“-Syd-”

“-Carmy.” You interrupt in an overly sweet tone that has his eyes darting in your direction. There’s a shuffle of movement as the staff take their food and slowly begin to shuffle away, leaving only you two. “Why not?”

“It’s your day off. I don’t want you spending it stuck in here…” He answers with a sigh.

“It’s just dishware…” You shrug and tilt your head slightly, hoping that he gives in with the look you’re giving him.

Carmy searches around your face for a few seconds then pinches the bridge of his nose and nods. “...okay fine, just- don’t hurt yourself… everything’s fuckin’ gross right now.” He runs a hand through his hair and watches you agree happily. “Alright, I gotta go talk to Nat ‘bout some stuff, but I’ll check on you later.”

Carmy reaches out a hand to gently knead your forearm, then quickly turns around.

”Hey-wait-” You call out to him, lowering your voice to a whisper. “Don’t you see somethin’ weird about your sister?” You ask, eying her suspiciously through the little window that peeks into the kitchen.

“What? What d'you mean?” Carmy answers.

“I dunno. She just seems… off.”

“Stress… I guess- I dunno. Probably nothin’.” He brushes off, but you eye her for a few seconds longer as he moves again towards the back.

**********

There isn’t a part of you that’s not covered in a thin layer of dust or sweat since you got to The Beef- The Bear- 'Dammit.’ It’s a strange situation to see, you had never known the place could be so quiet, gloomy or empty.

The walls had been stripped of any trace of personality, leaving only the dusty shadows of frames marking the white paint. The front windows were patched with old newspapers, blocking out the light and giving the space a more depressing feel each time you climbed back up the basement stairs.

You have spent all afternoon packing up utensils and throwing out silverware that had known better days. Carmy had passed by a few times and insisted you should save yourself before the place swallowed you up, but all he got was a snigger and a soft pat on the cheek. ‘It already has.’ You say with a smile, before moving to tape up one of the boxes.

Between scrolling through apartment listings and packing most of the dishware up, you hadn’t noticed you were almost working in the dark until Richie flicked the switch and you were startled by the change in lighting.

“Thanks.” You say with a head nod that he reciprocates. “You good?”

He nods again, though mostly by inertia. “Yeah- yeah I’m good. Just, um, dropped off Ava at her mom’s.”

“How is she?”

“Oh I dunno- I didn’t see her-”

“-I meant Ava.”

“Oh, she’s great!” He answers with a new found glow over his face. “Yeah- she’s been really getting into painting recently. Oh, you should see her- she’s so good! I’ve been thinking about signing her up for classes, but they’re fuckin’ expensive, y’know?”

“Why don’t you just put her in mine?” You state like it’s obvious and shrug, sorting out the last pile of forks.

“Yo-wait, seriously?” Richie asks in a perplexed tone.

“Sure, I can talk Marge into a family discount or somethin’, if you want.”

“Yeah- no that’d be great, I’ma go tell her the good news… thanks.” You shrug again and offer him a smile before he turns back around. Then you hear his familiar voice from inside the kitchen shout “Yo cuz, your girl’s The O.G.!”

His excitement causes you to shake your head and a small chuckle to escape through your nose as your attention falls back into the silverware. The repetitive action keeps you busy enough in your head that you don’t notice Carmy’s steps moving in your direction.

“Here.” He says, placing a glass of water by the pile of stained forks and quickly leaning down to peck your hair.

“Oh, thanks.” You say back with a small smile and crack your strained knuckles before holding the glass up and taking a sip.

“I think I’ll be a bit longer, Syd wants to talk menu. You don’t mind?”

You nod and swallow the fresh liquid. “No, don’t mind.”

“Y’sure? It’s pretty late and I don’t know how long it’ll take.” He asks again, one hand pushing back the stray hairs that have fallen out of your ponytail throughout the day. “I know you’re probably tired, sorry.”

You shake your head and reach a hand up to rub the stubble on his cheek. “ Carm, you’re good. Go take care of the menu. I’ll finish here and you can look for me in the office once you’re done.” You smile up at him and give him a gentle pat.

Carmy wraps his hand carefully around your wrist and turns his head to kiss the heart of your palm. There’s still a faint scar of your accident with the pears and the peeler, but he tries not to mention it. He lets go of your hand with a shy smile and a sigh and moves back into the kitchen, where he’s spent most of the afternoon.

The rest of the silverware doesn’t take you more than fifteen minutes to finish and you only notice the slight protesting ache coming from your knees while dropping off the last box downstairs. Rolling out the tension on your neck, you move into the empty office and slouch over the old chair that you hope they replace in the future.

With only the dim yellow desk lamp illuminating the room and the sudden fatigue falling on your shoulders, the corners of your vision begin to blur. You fold your arms over the desk and rest your head above it with eyes closed, getting ready for a short nap. Carmy would wake you up in a few minutes anyway and you’d finally get to go home.

**********

A sense of guilt deepened the frown over his face when he saw the uncomfortable position you were sitting in, one outstretched arm holding your head while the other hand curled under your chin. He didn’t expect for the first ideas of the menu to take that long- half an hour at most- but when he pulled his phone out to show Syd a reference photo, the clock read ten minutes to midnight and his brows raised in shock. He called it a day and promised Syd they’d continue tomorrow, then scrambled to the office where he found you heavily asleep.

He moves towards your slump body and crouches down to your side, hand moving away the pieces of hair that have fallen over your face.

“Honey...” You grumble softly and hide your face deeper into your arm. “Baby, c’mon let’s go home.”

Carmy tries to stifle the smile that forms from his words and from the cute noise you make in protest.

“What time is it…?” You ask, finally opening your eyes and stretching out your numb arms.

“Almost midnight- m’sorry, I didn’t notice the time.”

You blink your eyes several times to try and refocus your gaze, then smile lightly when you catch his stare. “What’s wrong?”

His grin turns slightly down in confusion. “Why, uhm, why would- why would you think that?” He asks in a low voice.

Pushing yourself off the desk, you prop up your elbow and rest your head over your palm, sleepy eyes set on him. “You’re over apologizing again.”

Carmy's eyes widen lightly then shrink with a grin, turning to the floor. He looks back up to your amused smile and points a finger to your nose. “wow…” He whispers and leans his forehead against yours.

After a few silent seconds, Carmy takes in a deep breath and pulls away after kissing the space between your eyes.

“So what is it?” You ask again and watch him straighten his knees and lean beside you on the desk.

“Turns out we might be over budget…”

“Over the whole 300k?” You repeat in slight surprise as he nods. “How much?”

“‘Bout 130k and counting.”

“...shit.” Is the only appropriate response that comes to mind.

“Yeah…” He agrees absentmindedly.

“So… Jimmy?” You say after a while. knowing the answer before he even finishes pinching the bridge of his nose.

“...yeah. He’s comin’ in tomorrow mornin’.”

You slowly nod back in acknowledgment, then push away from the desk to stand beside him. Your head drops to his shoulder and his’ immediately follows yours. “You’re gonna need a killer pitch.” You mumble and he responds with a short laugh.

Carmy wraps an arm around you and guides you both out the office, switching off the light and closing the door.

“Before I forget, I have some places for us to check out next week, you’re sure you can make it?” You ask him once outside the warm building, wrapping your jacket tighter around you before your teeth begin to chatter.

“Yeah, I’ll probably have to meet you there, though.” He answers as he finishes locking the side door.

“That’s fine- I just wanna make sure you’re there… I don’t wanna choose somethin’ you’re not gonna like.”

“I’ll be there.” He assures with an insistent nod.

Carmy notices how the peaks of your face begin to dust with a slight pink and he leans closer, putting an arm around your shoulders, for warmth. You look up at his face with a soft smile, eyes tracing over his features- mostly hidden under the shade of his baseball hat- and your hand holding onto his arm. As simple as that, you believe him.

**********

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne, @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha, @yum-yahgurt, @pussy-f41ry, @kirakombat, @redsakura101 , @hobisunshine13 and that’s it lmao

184 notes · View notes

nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 4 months

Text

If I'm Lucky - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Summary: Everything came crumbling down when you saw Ethan with another girl, but after a few months, you decide to hear him out.

A/N: Hiiii this is based on the song If I'm Lucky by State Champs. If you want to give it a listen, it's acoustic and I tried to capture the strong points of that song in this. :) If a part 2 is asked for, I'll probably write it. I apparently love to leave things on a cliffhanger💀

You couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw Ethan with another girl. You two weren’t official, but you still felt hurt. How is he going to have you in his bed one night, then the very next day, he’s holding hands with someone else.

“What the fuck?” you said to Mindy, her eyes searching to find what you’re looking at.

When she saw Ethan, she saw red. She knew how hard it was for you to trust after your last boyfriend cheated, and here he is, pretty much doing the same thing. She started to walk towards him, but you stopped her before she was able to confront him.

“He’s such an asshole,” she said, looking back over in their direction.

When you saw him kiss her cheek, your eyes started to water.

“I think I need to go,” you said.

“Let’s go to Sam and Tara’s,” she said, linking arms with you as you headed towards their apartment.

“What the fuck do you mean he was with another girl?” Tara asked, pacing the floor.

“I can only be so mad though, right? I’m the one that told him at the beginning that I wasn’t ready for a relationship yet,” you said, the stray tears running down your face.

“No, he’s treated you like his girlfriend for months,” Mindy said, rubbing your back as you leaned over to put your face in your hands.

As you sat there, Chad walked in.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, walking towards you.

Mindy jumped up, treating him like the enemy.

“Did you know that your roommate had another girl?” she asked, staring him down.

“What are you talking about? She’s the only girl that ever comes over,” he said, gesturing towards you.

“Well, she’s not the only one he’s been spending time with,” Tara said. The irritation for the situation was evident in her voice.

“I’ll kill him,” Chad said, before walking back out the door.

It’s been two months since that day. Ethan messaged you several times, but you ignored it. The friend group was no longer cool with him, and you were thankful to not have to see his face. Chad was the only one that spoke to him, but with them living in the same place, he didn’t have much of a choice.

As you arrived at Sam and Tara’s for a game night, you could tell that Chad wanted to talk to you about something. He never told you what happened when he confronted Ethan, just that he was unhappy that he did what he did. Ethan has been like Voldemort, no one wants to mention his name, so when Chad brought him up to you for the first time in months, you didn’t know how to feel. You used to be angry, you used to be sad, but now all you feel is hurt.

“I know you hate him, but Ethan asked me to ask you to unblock his number,” he said, as the two of you sat at the table after a heated game of Monopoly.

You scoffed at his words, before looking at him like he was crazy.

“Why would I do that?” you asked, your tone laced with annoyance.

“He knows he fucked up. He wants to talk,” he said, looking down after the stare down you were giving him made him nervous.

You thought about it for a minute, before pulling out your phone and unblocking his number.

“Done,” you said, placing your phone down on the table.

“He fucked up, but the dude really cares about you,” he said, meeting your gaze again.

As everyone started to leave, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You opened your messages to see not a text, but what looks like an entire novel from Ethan. The message was so long that you had to click to open it so you could read the whole thing.

Ethan: I’m sorry that this is going to be a long message, but I don’t want you to block me again before I say everything I need to say. I’m sorry that I was seeing someone else when I was seeing you. I was scared because I was really getting caught up in my feelings for you, but I didn’t know if you’d ever want a relationship. I was so hung up on you that I couldn’t think straight. I was terrified of getting my heart broken. I made a horrible mistake; I should’ve told you that I wanted to be with you. I wanted the commitment. I wanted to be the one that you would be with. You talked about that guy from your writing class so much that I thought there was something going on there. I’ve learned that there wasn’t, but I just felt all this jealousy. I thought you didn’t want to be with me, but you were open to other people. I know all of this is no excuse for what I did, I should’ve talked to you. I can’t stop thinking about you, and I’d really like to take you out for coffee if you’d be willing to talk. If you don’t want to, I understand. I don’t think I could ever just let you go, but if you want me to, I’ll try.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you read the message. Part of you wanted to tell Ethan to go fuck himself, but another part of you felt like he did what he did because he thought you were doing the same thing. You wish he would’ve just talked to you. You wish there wouldn’t have been any confusion about where either of you stood. You decided to text him back after thinking it over on your walk back home.

You: When do you want to go for coffee?

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream

114 notes · View notes

moonlezn · 10 months

Text

Try Hard II

punk bassist!jeno x female!reader genre: fluff wc: 2k part I - part III a/n: this is a bit longer than I'd planned and maybe there's too much chenji best friend agenda. I did it for me and my fellow chenji baddies. this is so cute and honestly i hope you read it well <3disclaimers: mentions of piercings, some swearing. i'm not sorry for having done these edits of jeno with a labret piercing.

[6:58am]

jisung: wake the fuck up jisung: we’re gonna be late jisung: cmon LOSER jisung: fr i don’t wanna come into your room jisung: i’m gonna lose my mind and scream if you don't get up rn

the faint buzz under the pillow rolled you out of your sleep, lazily you got the electronic device in your hands, seeing your friend’s notifications. shit, you thought. snoozing would get you in trouble once again. great.

getting out of bed was harder than you thought. dragging your feet, you made your way towards the door so as to open it for jisung. he sighed in relief upon seeing you and happily got in after you motioned for him to enter the space. “you gotta stop snoozing. for real.” he whispered, not wanting to get on your bad side so early. you mumbled ‘good morning to you too’ in response. he chuckled lightly and watched as you gathered your things to get ready.

after that day’s lecture, having cooled off from the hectic run to avoid being late, chenle, jisung and you were hanging out near some other students on campus. the bodypiercer placed a finger under your chin and took a closer look at your recent piercing. “how’s it healing?”

“is it what you wanted?” his question implied another meaning, which you acknowledged by his discreet wink.

you held back a grin, glancing away from your friends. and as if the universe was trying to play a prank on you, you see him. confidently walking around one of the halls heading the opposite direction from the three of you. his bass kept him company, as usual. jeno probably felt your eyes on him because he quickly scanned the area over his shoulder seemingly looking for something he didn’t find.

“it is.” you said to your friend, who smirked, realizing you understood his intentions. “but I’ve got to try harder, you know?”

“isn’t it just soap and saline solution to clean up? how the hell could you try harder than that?” jisung pointed out and both you and chenle grinned knowingly, nodding at his direction at the same time. “you’re weird.”

“what’s up, renjun?” the purple haired announced the third boy’s proximity. he held a friendly smile on his lips as he took the remaining steps towards the group to have a seat next to you.

renjun was the coolest and sweetest guy on campus, everybody knew him for outdoing all other international relations students and for his insane parties. the boy went all for having fun and making the most of his college experience while working his ass off to be the best he could be. just impossible, people would say. nobody dared to say a bad thing about him, though; hoping to God to be invited to one of his famous events. that had never been a problem for you. since chenle was his childhood friend, you eventually became friendly with each other.

“you’re coming on saturday?” he asked, expectant eyes looking at each of you, when he landed on your forced grin. “no! you’re coming!” he shook his head negatively. “please? louise is gonna be there, you’re the closest thing to a friend she has.” louise was his situationship and the girl from the same class you’d been hanging out with since she transferred. “please?”

you tried looking away from the three pair of eyes that expected your answer, already acknowledging no wasn’t possible. it’d been a while since you went out and spent time with lou and some other friends. “alright, alright! i’m going.”

jeno’s fingertips were sore from playing his acoustic bass by now, but he didn’t mind. he’d been absentmindedly following the melody of creep by radiohead, his favorite song. it wasn’t like he didn’t notice people were intimidated by him frequently and that had never bothered him, not until it stopped him from being closer to someone he liked.

he became hyper aware of people taking glances at him and moving awkwardly to the side so he could go on walking. also the stutters when he asked to take part in group projects, which never lasted long after people got to know him, started to annoy him a lot. most of the time they seemed to think he was tough and mean, even though that was far from the truth.

the boy even considered changing his style, quitting the band or whatever change he could make to seem more likable. however, that was just who he was, so he was trying to shut up those foolish ideas by drowning himself in music once again.

ARCADERS AKA BEST BAND ever

haechan: bow down to ur king haechan: SUMMONING THIS BAND where r y’all haechan: fr i need to tell u guys smth haechan: URGENT SOS HELLO R U THERE

jeno: what the fuck is this about

no sooner did the non-stop dings coming from the phone on the floor broke his trance, than he was checking the band’s group chat.

jaemin: this is good jaemin: he’s not joking

jisung: well where is he now

haechan: glad to know i’m so loved

jisung: uhm embarrassing ..?

haechan: n e ways got us a gig on thursday

jaemin: TELL THEM WHERE IT IS

jeno: hope it’s not wild’s hated playing there

haechan: i’d tell u to guess but i’m just losing my mind haechan: it’s ANL

jisung: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAT

haechan: yeah invite chenle and our groupie she’s got to be there

chenle, jisung and you were on the way back home when the tallest suddenly stopped on his track, staring at his phone screen for a few minutes, white as a sheet. having no idea what was going on, you tried shaking him and asking what was going on a few times but he just smiled brightly and turned his messages for both of you to read.

“oh my GOD!” you yelled.

“NO WAY, JISUNG! ARCADERS AT ANL.”

“you guys HAVE to be there!” his friends ruffled his hair lovingly.

you were alone at the bar, waiting for your fifth drink to be done. the atmosphere tonight was exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time. the band was already backstage getting ready for they’d play soon, but oh were they shaking. they had been waiting for this opportunity for quite some time, it almost didn’t feel real for them. ANL was the biggest pub around and it was well-known for having introduced the best local rock musicians.

the bartender handed the beautiful pink drink to you and your journey to meet your friends in the back started. the place was packed, so walking was difficult. you recognized a few faces on the way and had a few dialogs here and there. many friends of the boys stopped you to ask about them or wish good luck.

you entered a door and found them inside the small room, haechan being the first to see you. “GROUPIE!” he exclaimed and the boys turned around to see you at the door. jisung sighed in relief and clung onto you.

“i’m so nervous.” the words slipped out of his lips when his face was buried in your hair.

“you can do this, ji. you’re the best drummer. our rockstar!” you could feel his smile on his cheek, then he let you go to say your hellos.

you scanned the room almost as bright eyed as them, stopping at jeno. he looked so… good, it took everything in you not to look like a fool. the chains on his neck complemented his pretty eye makeup so well, not to mention the leather jacket hugging his strong arms and back. you couldn’t help but notice his lips were glistening and a new black jewelry was there, a labret piercing. of course he noticed you staring, but you only realized that when your eyes found his. this time, neither of you looked away. the intensity flickering in his orbs woke the damn butterflies in your stomach and you had to fight back the urge to kiss him. ‘one more drink and you’d be done for, jeno lee’ you thought.

“oh good, you just got here?” chenle’s voice broke your little staring contest. your friend grinned at you, pointing to the huge backpack on his shoulders. “brought an extra camera so you can help me take some pictures for their insta, alright?”

“am i getting paid?”

“shut up.”

the staff came in a few minutes later and gave the two of you a pass that allowed you to stay between the stage and the barricade, for the pictures. suddenly everything felt real as they had less than 20 minutes to get in. the host announced them once more for the almost three hundred people there among friends, some admirers of the band and LOTS of students from the surrounding colleges who didn’t know them. tonight their word would spread around like fire.

“so, you like the surprise?” chenle asked, looking at you through the camera.

“i consider that betrayal, for your information” your answer made him throw his head back, laughing like a little kid. “what? a labret piercing isn’t a betrayal?”

“well, i consider it a present. and seeing the way you were staring…” he nudged you playfully, but the music stopped and the host came back on stage. the highly anticipated concert was about to start, so you just stuck your tongue out to your friend.

their entrance was big, everyone screamed to hype them up and they started with their own version of all the small things by blink 182. you swear you couldn’t even hear haechan over the audience. you took many pictures of them, sang together and admired their surprised smiles and stage personas in between performances.

at some point jaemin and jeno came to the front to have a small battle to show their guitar and bass skills, making the room go crazy. right after that, the vocalists screamed jisung’s name and he started to show off. chenle exchanged a proud look with you, all of you feeling an immense happiness.

so many girls were screaming their names, haechan mouthed the word ‘groupies’ at you, to which he received a middle finger in his direction.

the setlist had almost come to an end, there was only one song left. feeling on top of the world, haechan played with the public. “ANL, you’re such a good crowd.” they screamed. “unfortunately, we’ve come down to our last song.” a very loud ‘aawwww’ was heard and the boys chuckled among themselves. as the sunkissed singer spoke, the others changed their instruments. jaemin got an acoustic guitar, followed by jeno with his acoustic bass and the staff placed a cajón for jisung in front of the drums. “we prepared a very special song for you, beautiful people. thank you so much for coming tonight!” they cheered once more.

the first chords to wonderwall by oasis were played by jaemin, the other instruments following the softer melody. haechan’s sweet voice compelled the watchers to sing along, pouring their hearts out.

you felt a tap on your shoulder as you registered this breathtaking moment of the band. turning your attention to the person who tapped you, you see chenle wiggling his eyebrows in jeno’s way. turns out his gaze was burning your skin together with the words dripping from his lips so faintly, only someone so close as you would understand he was following the lyrics.

And all the roads we have to walk are winding

And all the lights that lead us there are blinding

There are many things that I would like to say to you, but I don't know how

the bassist didn’t know what had gotten into him, maybe it was the performance thrill. he honestly didn’t try to find an explanation. during their songs, you were the one getting his attention all the time. you were having so much fun, singing out loud, exchanging jokes with your best friend, showing some people the band’s social media… it clicked. he realized he would never have to change to be around you. he felt so silly. and then, a sudden boldness rushed through him to let you know there’s something he must tell you.

186 notes · View notes

gretavanlace · 1 year

Text

Decorum and Refinement

Jake Kiszka/Oliver Reed x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, language, alcohol consumption, dirty talk, degradation, praise, foreign objects, fingering, oral sex (f/m r), terrible English accent/diction (bc come on, it’s Oliver), etc.

“Do you think you guys’ll ever do the whole masterclass thing again?” The thought, that has been bouncing around in your mind for most of the drive home, spills from your lips before you have a chance to think better of it.

His head swivels over in your direction, but you keep your eyes on the road. “I dunno.” Lazily, he sips at the whiskey he shouldn’t be enjoying in the passenger seat. “Why? That’s a strange question.”

“You would know.” You smile, stealing a quick glance over at him. He looks sinful, relaxed back in his seat, legs spread wide, cut-crystal glass he stole from Josh’s sweating in his hand.

“Why would I know?” He grins back. “Are you trying to imply that I’m strange?”

“No!” Your inflection is exaggerated to showcase the lie. “Would I ever say something like that about you, Jake? My beloved. My prince. Love of my life. Keeper of my—“

“Oh, shut up.” He laughs, cutting you off. “And stop dodging. Why’d you ask?”

Now it’s your turn to shrug. “Just making conversation.”

“That’s not true at all.” He challenges. “You never speak just to make noise. Like that about you. Now, out with it.”

“Cal.” You sigh dreamily. “That chef’s hat really does it for me. And when he yelled at the fly? The aggression? Irresistible!”

“Yeah?” He’s in on the joke and playing along. “Verbal attacks against insects kink? Wonder if there’s a name for that?”

“Oh sure…there’s a convention every year, too. You should come scream at some ants with me.”

He takes a long swig of his drink, draining it to the dredges and then lowers his tone. “Yes, thank you, darling. That sounds lovely.”

A shiver tickles up your spine as Oliver peeks out, but he pretends not to notice, and you pretend it hasn’t happened.

You’re safe with Jake, and he is always more than willing to dip into uncharted waters with you…but it’s inexplicably embarrassing; this thing you have for his ridiculous alter-ego.

The way he speaks, so grizzled and rough. Seemingly hardened from years of cigars and Jack. Harsh and clipped, unbothered by anyone’s bullshit.

The swagger in his walk, like he knows everyone in the room wants to fuck him and he hasn’t the time to deal with them, but he’ll give ‘em a bit of a show anyway.

The accent. Even though it’s barely passable at times. A cobbled together mix of dialect he’s picked up through movies and travel, and bits that don’t really make much sense at all, at times. But even that seems terribly Oliver. As if he’s said, “Well, alright then, I’m English, but I’m not like the rest of these cunts.”

That stupid cane. That stupid, unbelievably sexy, fucking cane.

Now, standing in your kitchen, sifting through a stack of mail, you wonder where he’s gone. Normally he’s a touch clingy after he’s had a round or two, or seven, with his brothers, but he disappeared nearly as soon as the two of you walked in the door.

Likely to his music room to pluck away at an acoustic. Winding down for the night with a vinyl spinning softly in the corner. You’ll go and find him soon, maybe lie down on the crushed velvet couch and let him play you to sleep.

The thought, too cozy to resist, sends you wandering up the stairs, only to find the room dark and quiet. He isn’t there, but the room is so Jake, you’re drawn inside anyway.

It smells of him. The piney scent of gin and sap-dripping trees, beaten up leather, linen, metallic strings…

You wander through, ghosting your fingers over instruments in the moonlight streaming through the windows he fought to leave untreated. “No curtains in this one.” He’d argued. “We’ll let the outside in as it sees fit.”

Your touch lands on a row of guitars, lightly skimming the tops. Electric, acoustic, steel…then moves along to the nomads. The instruments he loves, but leaves to lie in wait. Ukulele, banjo, mandolin, lute, sitar…

A gorgeous, posh, cello waits in the corner regally. He swears one day he’ll teach himself to play it. Just as he promises of the violin resting, beautifully neglected, in its case.

You don’t fault or tease him for these two…if the instrument boasts strings, Jake is drawn to it and hungry to take it home.

“Look at this!” The memory fondly floats into your mind. “It’s called a Balalaika!” He’d reached out for your hand, guiding you to strum over it. “It’s Russian…I ordered it from that place downtown months ago, and it finally came in…listen.” A jaunty little tune had sounded out as his fingers excitedly worked it over.

A soft knock on the open door startles you out of your thoughts and sends you spinning around to find Jake leaning against the door frame.

Only, it isn’t Jake. Not quite…

“So sorry to scare you, love,” He raps the end of his cane against the wooden floor absentmindedly, “But I thought I’d let you know that Jacob is, unfortunately, indisposed for the evening. He thought I might keep you company instead.”

He figured it out. Worked to connect the pieces in that brilliant, pretty head of his. Of course he did.

Gaze drinking him in, you feel parched rather than satiated…he looks like a drunken pirate who has done his best to look presentable for an event at which he fully plans on creating a scene.

Rumpled vest layered over a wrinkled button-up, which is anything but buttoned up. Layers of necklaces swaying gently against his bare chest. Cuffed trousers that highlight the anklet that drives you wild, though you can’t decide why. Scuffed, but clearly expensive loafers made of buttery soft leather…worn out in the most perfect way.

“Look all you like, darling.” He sighs, waving his hand around as though he’s royalty, “I am merely a gallery for the female gaze. Male, too, come to think of it. I suppose I just like to be looked at.”

Your cheeks flush with heat…this is silly, right? So why is your pulse pounding in your ears? Amongst other places… “Jake,”

He saunters forward and tilts your chin up with the glossy handle of his cane “I’m sorry, but I’ve already told you. Jake’s not here. Try and keep up, girl, ‘right?”

Hands now clutched around the lapels of his vest you tuck your chin submissively against his cane and finally allow it to sigh off of your tongue… “Hello, Oliver.”

“Hello, love.” He raises your face a touch higher, until he can brush his lips over yours. “If I wasn’t so fond of our boy, I might fuck his pretty thing right here. His favorite room…his favorite girl,” He reaches down and cups his warm palm over your cunt, “Wouldn’t that be bloody dreadful of me?”

“I won’t tell him.” You breathe, sinking into the narrative.

“Oh, I’ve got a wretched little witch in my arms, don’t I?” he’s walking you backwards now, leading you towards the wall. “Willing to let Oliver slip it inside like a common whore when Jacob just loves you so much? Naughty. Disgusting. Vile.”

The air knocks out of your lungs as your back hits the wall. “Dirty girl thinks she needs a bit of cock, when what she really needs is a priest to absolve her of all this sin. Shall I call Father Sam? You can repent and say your Hail Marys and then ruin all your hard work on your knees for me.”

“Fuck repenting…” your legs wrap around his waist, searching for friction. “I’ll go to hell and burn for you.”

“Wonderful,” he takes pity and grinds against your cunt. “I’ll see you there…we’ll rot together.”

His hand is wandering down now, between the two of you, seeking to disappear into your jeans, which you wish would also disappear. “Jake…please, just fucking touch me.”

“Now, now…” he tsks. “That’s all wrong, innit it, girl? Can you say it right for me? Behave for Oliver and stop thinking with your head, hmm? Think with that pretty cunt… my bet’s she knows who she wants.”

A noise you would absolutely die if you ever had to admit to, sounds out of you. “Touch me, Oliver…please…I need it…”

His fingers inch away from where you need them most, “Where?” He circles your belly button. “Right here? You know, I’m bit drunk, darling…a touch inebriated. So sorry to ask, but, I’ll need you to be specific.”

Another moan of frustration escapes you.

“C’mon then…” now his hands are shoving your shirt up. “Tell Oliver what you need.” He tugs your tits free and a raspy laugh greets them like he’s never laid eyes upon them before “Hello, dolls. Beautiful.”

His mouth is suddenly relentless. Licking and sucking and groaning softly against your nipples as you pant and silently pray for his cock to force him into further action.

“Tell me where.” He mouths around your nipple.

“You know where.” Your hands are in his hair now…tugging and pulling.

He drops to his knees and yanks your jeans down to your ankles, taking your panties along with them. “Well hello, lovely girl.” He growls out, nuzzling his nose against your clit. “Name’s Oliver, and I’m about to show you a fucking fantastic time.”

You’re propped against a wall, in this seemingly sacred room where he creates, writhing and whining with your panties at your feet while he carries on a little conversation with your aching pussy. You wish you could say that you feel badly for it, but you’ve never been the best liar.

“You’ve met my mate Jacob…” he continues. “Nice enough, but…” his tongue swirls over your clit and a sob rips from your chest. “Bit upper crust, isn’t he?”

“Darling…” He looks up, drawing you into the conversation he’s been having with your desperate cunt.

“Our Jakey…does he do this for you? Does he get on his knees to kiss her as sweet as she deserves?” His eyes, clear and unashamed of the depravity of it all, stare up at you.

“Yes…” it trembles out weakly as you try your hardest to force him in closer.

“Ahh…” he sounds very proud of Jake, indeed. “That’s my boy.”

Momentarily, you adopt an accent of your own. “He’s lovely, Oliver. Now, give us a kiss.”

“M’only regret is that I’ve shaved.” He drags his finger over his smooth jawline and kisses at your clit. “Might’ve been nice to smell as pretty as you do all night.”

“Couldn’t find the beard?” You tease breathily.

He winks up at you in confirmation and promptly buries his face between your thighs, sucking softly until your legs are struggling under the weight of your quivering body.

“Take me over to the couch.” You whisper, imagining the gentle kiss of velvet against your flushed skin.

“Sofa.” He corrects as though he’s lord of the manor. Then he’s on his feet, sweeping you off of yours, as if you are the lady of said manor. “You damned Americans. Common. The lot of you.”

He deposits you tenderly, but orders roughly, “Let’s get rid of this nonsense…” gesturing dismissively at your state - half-dressed and disheveled. “I’d like to get on with it.”

His cane has somehow found its way home, nestled in his grip. He catches you staring at it as you hastily strip as instructed.

“That was a mistake, girl…” he taunts. “You should learn to hold those filthy cards closer to your chest. Spread your legs, love. Let Oliver see tonight’s stage.” He bows gently, “I am but a thespian.”

You open wide for him, spreading until your hips flare with a dull ache. “Please, Mr. Reed…make me feel good. Jake never has to know.”

“I think someone who’s about to fuck herself with my cane deserves to address me a little less formally, don’t you, darling?”

The smug smile swept across his lips makes you want to cry tears of frustration…he is just so fucking beautiful. Instead, you moan wantonly at the mere thought.

“Nasty little bit likes that, doesn't she?” He’s really leaning into it now. “Wants Oliver’s cane right in her sweet, pink, cunt? You look so tight, think you can even take it, love?”

He speaks as if he’s never been inside you before…fingers tucked in, fucking against the perfect spot. Cock stuffed inside, making you see stars and wishing for it to never end.

He returns the nod you offer.

“Right then,” he tosses the cane at you and you, thankfully, catch it like a pro. “On with it.”

You’re so lost in him you begin inching the bottom closer to yourself, but he puts a quick stop to it. “No, sweetheart, what’s been on the ground doesn’t deserve the perfection you’ve got there between those thighs. Handle, yeah?”

Eyes on his, you guide the handle to your mouth, licking and sucking it as if you aren’t already so dripping wet it’ll slip right inside.

“Thank you, Oliver.” You fix your fucked out doe eyes on his blushing face.

“What for, little love?” He asks - a bit of cockney coloring that ramshackle accent of his.

“For letting me use your cane.” You clarify with put-on innocence. “I just need to cum so badly.”

“S’that right?” He taps his foot, pupils blown as he moves in closer. “Pretty thing just needs to cum so badly?”

“So badly.” The cool handle of his cane begins nudging at your entrance.

“Go on, then, Miss America…” he rasps. “Let’s treat her right, shall we? Together? Can’t have you running back to tell Jacob I made you do all the work, now can I?”

“Thought we weren’t telling Jacob?” You smile softly.

“Oh, my dear girl.” He smiles right back. “You think he doesn’t know your body well enough to know when you’ve gotten off properly? Even when you’re all alone and you think it’s a secret. He knows, love…he knows.”

“How does he know?” You slip his cane inside and bite back a whimper.

“I’m not exactly in the habit of asking him about his beautiful girl and how he knows when she’s enjoyed an orgasm…but I s’pose I could guess if you’d like.”

“Yeah…” your back arches away from the couch as you slide against a particularly sensitive spot inside with his cane. Fuck, with his cane…the vulgarity of it makes you tremble.

“Alright then, love…” he sinks to his knees before you and kitten licks at your clit. “If I had to make an educated guess - and I’m very educated - I’d venture that you might get a bit…loose limbed, yeah? Languid and gentle. The prettiest baby…”

“Whose fucking baby is this?!” You interject, with the smallest of giggles, because you just can’t help it, and he gives you a look that could kill.

“Settle down.” His fingers swat at your thigh just hard enough to sting.

“Did I ruin the mood?” You tease.

In response, he slides his cane out, replacing it with two long, warm, fingers to find you soaked and squeezing. “Doesn’t feel like you’ve ruined anything at all. What a pretty little wreck she is. How’s Jakey boy ever get anything done?”

Your hands are buried in his hair again, yanking him in until his mouth is kissing, soft and hot, along your neck. “I have to force him to leave me alone. He wants it all the time.”

His fingers are moving inside of you like heaven…circling and massaging against that perfect place, rather than fucking in and out. “S’that right? Just wants to live buried inside this tight little cunt, does he? Can’t say I blame him.”

Grinding shamelessly into his hand, you pitch your voice gentle and quiet, in the way you know he can’t resist “You wanna fuck me and find out why?”

“You couldn’t handle it, darling.” His teeth sink deliciously into your throat until you shudder and pull at fistfuls of his tangled hair. “Oliver’s not got a gentle bone in his body. I’d tear Jacob's pretty girl apart.”

Your shoulders shiver, his voice, like cashmere over sandpaper, huffing so menacingly in your ear. “Oh, someone likes that…” you can hear the half-smirk in his tone, though your eyes have fluttered closed.

“Tell Oliver how much your pretty cunt loves him already. Does she, darling?” You can’t help the way you clench around his fingers any more than you can help the ragged sound that gasps from your parted lips. “Hmm, feels like she does. I said, tell me.”

Tears are burning in your eyes, he’s gotten you so close, but he’s holding back just enough to keep you right there, watching you intently, eyes trained for your body’s tells.

“I need more,” the tears are falling now, and you know he adores every single one of them. “Need to cum.”

Instead, he slows down even more and lessens the pressure. “Does he let you act like a brat, or’s the pleasure all mine? I asked you for something, and I expect you to give it to me.”

“Yes…” you nod frantically, lifting your head to find his eyes. He offers a lazy wink like a smug bastard. “She loves you, Oliver.”

But it isn’t good enough. “Who loves me?”

“My cunt…” you rush on, eager to give him what he wants in order to get what you’re after. “She loves you. Now, please, baby…c’mon.”

“S’right she does. Just look at her soaking my hand so pretty. Sucking my fingers in. Greedy little baby, isn’t she?”

“Please?” You whine pathetically and he hums in approval.

“Love a girl with manners.” He’s teasing now, with both his words and too gentle touch. “Reminds me of a someone I used to know, she’d beg so nicely for my cum whenever she was thirsty.”

Your nails dig into his wrist in warning and it sparks a laugh out of him. “Jacob didn’t tell me you had such a jealous streak, girl. I like that very much.”

Finished with his games, you reach down and find your clit, stroking quick, slick circles over it. Writhing and panting, trying to get there before he stops you.

Rather than scolding, he praises, as his fingers begin moving with a purpose deep inside you. “That’s it, darling. So pretty. Show me what a filthy girl you are. Take what you need.”

“Faster…” you breathe, barely making a sound as your head drops back, expression twisted up in bliss. “Fuck me faster.”

His hand quickens, working into you at a lightning fast pace until your thighs are shaking and the nails of your free hand are raking over the upholstery.

Here, love…” he hands you his cane to grip instead. “Let’s not ruin the velvet, right?”

All thought has sizzled apart in your brain, so you nod aimlessly and grab it up in your frantic grip, squeezing around it so hard it stings your palm, though you don’t much register it.

“Gonna cum,” you manage to whisper.

“Let’s have it then.” He encourages, reaching up to stroke your cheek as he twists his wrist, scissoring those perfect fingers inside your fluttering cunt. “Come on, darling, let’s go.”

That’s what does it. It isn’t his hand, or even your own, that finally pushes you over the edge, it’s those gravley, coaxing words, in that fucking addicting accent. It’s Oliver, he’s what does it.

A near scream moans out of you, and he’s suddenly wrenching the cane out of your hand, only to place it between your teeth; a makeshift bit as he growls into your ear. “Keep quiet, girl. What if he’s back? Wouldn’t want him to hear your cumming all over Oliver’s hand like a whore, would you?”

You thrash and fight through your orgasm beneath him, teeth sinking marks into the wood stifling your incoherent cries.

“S’good, sweetheart. That’s lovely. Plan to shut that pretty mouth up with my cock next. Would you like that? Has he throat trained his gorgeous girl yet? Will you be able to swallow me right down?”

He knows you’re too gone to answer, he’s simply winding you tighter, working you through, but keeping you stirred up enough that you’ll be eager to suck him off rather than float off to sleep, after. Clever, devious, delectable, man.

You’ve pushed him away and fallen to your knees the second you can breathe again.

“Love a pretty girl on her knees.” He muses, brushing the hair away from your blushing face. “My cock hurts from watching you. You’re a dream when you cum, love.”

The metal of his belt clinks into the room like wind chimes as you pull it open. “Can I fix it?”

His response comes lazing out, thick with accent, with a Jack Sparrow wave of his hand “You may.”

You pull his cock into the cool night air and sigh, “Its so pretty.” And it is, it really fucking is.

Licking a warm, wet stripe along the side, you end with a swirl just below the tip, smiling when a shiver rattles through him.

“Is that the spot right there, Oliver?” You purr as if you don’t know. “Does that feel good?”

“Perfect, darling.” A tiny pant of a breath escapes him, making you crave more.

Sucking him in softly with a warm kiss, you wait until his hands find your hair with a tug, and then swallow him down to the base - allowing a gag just to let him feel your throat constrict around him.

With a choked groan, he holds your head still and buries in a little deeper. “So he did train you…or is this natural talent?”

He knows the answer as well as you. And you flush with heat at the countless memories of him nudging further and further down your throat; gently teaching you how to take a bit more each night until you could welcome him in one go without batting an eye.

Still, he pulls you off and tilts your head up by your hair, raising a brow in question.

“He taught me.” You blink up innocently. “I didn’t know how before, but he was so patient with me while I learned. Let me show you.”

“Jesus, fuck.” Jake appears for just a split second before he shakes it off.

Back in character now, he pulls you back down around him. “Go on, then, love. Swallow it down nice and sweet.”

You pull out every stop, every trick in the book. Every little thing that has ever made him moan in surprise, or thrust into your mouth…he gets it.

Your nose is pressed against the soft plush of his stomach when his fingers tighten in your hair. “That’s so good, darling. You’re so good. Gonna hold you still, fuck that pretty face, that alright, love?”

You nod eagerly around him and swallow just to feel his body tense up in pleasure. You get your wish and beam inwardly with pride.

“Did that on purpose, dinnit you, girl?” He hisses, grabbing for the upper hand. “You’re gonna get it now.”

He taps your face, a subtle reminder of how you should tap if you need to stop, and then - without warning, begins fucking your mouth. It’s hard, and deep, and fast, and sloppy…wet sounds that should make you blush echoing through the room. It’s dirty and slightly uncomfortable. It’s all of those things, but it’s perfect.

Staring down at you, with eyes so full of love and lust it makes your heart ache, he nods. “Good girl, darling. Good girl. You look like a bloody angel, cock down your throat, letting me fuck it like this. You just want to make me feel good, don’t you?”

You answer with your eyes.

“S’right, love.” He slides in deep and groans in appreciation when you ripple your tongue. “Again.”

Tongue working him as best you can, you let him hold you there until your lungs are screaming for air. He pulls you off when he feels the slight struggle, lets you catch your breath and then shoves right back in.

When his thrusts begin to falter you grow desperate to taste him, but at the last minute, he yanks free, one hand still tangled in the roots of your hair, the other fisting over his cock.

“Open up.” He demands, sounding weak, and so close you could cry you want it so badly.

Your mouth falls open, and you present your tongue in waiting.

“Gonna feed it to you, girl.” He pants, gritting his teeth. “Would you like that? You want to taste me?”

Resting your hands primly in your lap, you nod. “Yes, please.”

Your little display of innocent decorum while asking for something so depraved sends his end crashing into him wildly. He jerks his cock roughly through it, warm cum spurting into your mouth and splashing across your cheeks and lips.

Accepting it all, happily, you wait until his shoulders slump with a drawn out fuck, before closing your mouth to savor him.

He stares down at you for a long, smoldering, stretch and then tucks himself away before leaning in. “Looks like I’ve made a mess. I’ve been known to do that, y’know. Apologies.”

With a kiss, though your lips are still dripping with him, he straightens and stretches. “You wait here, darling. I’ll go fetch Jacob to clean you up. Not really Oliver’s thing. You understand.”

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @gardenofgreta @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @dvrkblooms @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @greta-flanveet-admin @joshkiszkas @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @joshsmama @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @jordierama @calumspretty

#greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #fanfic #greta van fic #greta van smut #gvf fic #jake gvf #jake kiskza #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka imagine #oliver reed #gvf fanfiction

467 notes · View notes

rookthorne · 7 months

Text

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐧

The longing for home, for the traditions you had cultivated as you grew into the young woman that you were today, made you troubled. You were confused for how you had missed such a mundane existence, when you had started anew with the monster that lurked in the shadows. It was just lucky, however, that this monster — the one you loved with all of your heart — was a crafty trickster, and he knew just how to bring you cheer on the Eve of Samhain.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𖤐 Monster!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 𖤐 2.5k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𖤐 Light angst, fluff

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 𖤐 For my darling, @vonalyn — you gave me the inspiration for this, and you helped immensely with steering me in the right direction! I hope you enjoy. 💚

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 𖤐 Landing in the Dark by From the Mouth of the Sun 𖤐 Nature Boy (Acoustic) by AURORA 𖤐 The Deep, the Dark by Tamer 𖤐 Nátta by Munknörr

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 𖤐 @rookthorne's Fright Night — Masterlist

𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

From the bounds of the forest, you observed the village, the one you once called home. Bright, glowing fires lined the way between thatched cottages and stone walls, while people cheered and danced with one another. It was a glorious celebration – priests and their chanting, the calls for the ancestors to join them.

Each chant filled your bones with the yearning to dance, to take part, but the festivities picked and tore at your heart, for they were celebrating the very thing that kept you, and your other half, at bay.

The rituals were performed as a rite of protection, forcing and warding off spirits and creatures with evil in their hearts. Bucky was no such creature – that you knew, he had taken such blessed care of you, but he dared not venture too close to the village again now that you were within his hold.

There would be no way that he would take the risk of being tracked by foolish hunters.

As a result, the both of you were shunned, forced to live the lives of outcasts — nothing more than the dirt under the villager’s worn shoes.

You sighed heavily, crossing your arms across your chest as the chilled air nipped through your clothes. For days, Bucky had been treating the furs of the wolves he had slaughtered, and he was determined to bring you comfort, the warmth you craved.

There was no way he would be able to keep you close for every passing moment of your time together – he had to hunt and provide, protect his territory and chase off otherworldly beasts to keep you safe. And he insisted that the addition of your own furs would help you feel more at home in his lair.

Suddenly, heavy footfalls crunched the twigs and leaves behind you, but you did not startle. “Hello, Bucky.”

“Lamb, my sweet,” he said quietly, and then you heard the thump of him falling to all fours. “What are you doing all the way out here, are you-”

“I’m fine,” you rushed, interrupting him. “I just–” Blinking, you felt a tear run down your cheek and you hastened to wipe it away. “I do not know.”

Bucky hummed. There was a warmth at your back, and then, white ivory appeared in the corner of your vision. You turned your head slightly to see what he was doing, but you let out a small laugh, instead. Bucky had gone on all fours and daintily rested his chin on your shoulder; ever so careful of his antlers.

The amber glow that had once filled Bucky’s eyes had changed into an icy blue – a reflection of his sorrow. “You are… troubled, little lamb.” Carefully, you placed your palm on the divot by his nose, and you brushed your thumb over the smooth bone. Bucky made a low noise in his throat and leaned into the contact. “What is troubling you?”

“Look,” you whispered, pointing towards the bright flames of the village. “They celebrate making us outcasts. I wish they would understand.” People dressed in the skin of animals flashed underneath the light of the fires. “I wish they understood that they were casting out the real protector.”

“I am only the protector of you, my sweet.” There was a huff of breath, like he was sighing out of frustration. You glanced sideways and caught a pensive glint in his light eyes. “I could not care less for what happens to those that inhabit your old home, not after how they treated you–for centuries, might I add.”

“Still,” you insisted. “It is not something that I am hiding, that I miss it. I miss the thatched cottage I grew up in–the memories.” Bucky looked at you from the corner of his eyes. “I speak the truth. Maybe I am just melancholy–aching for the comforts of my old home.”

“The traditions?” Bucky asked quietly.

You nodded and frowned slightly. “Yes.”

Bucky moved his head from your chin, and stood behind you. “I do not see why we cannot make new ones, Lamb.”

“What do you mean?” The breeze was cold as you turned to face Bucky, brow arched in question. “I do not understand-”

“I wish to make our own traditions–create something that you will enjoy for the years to come,” he explained, tilting his head slightly, as though lost in thought. “It would make you happy, would it not?”

A warmth – a kind of contentment, a feeling unlike any other, filled you. It made your heart, once so ladened and heavy with grief and longing, light once again. You smiled, widely, and looked into his eyes. “It would. It really would. When do we begin?”

Bucky’s mouth opened and his tongue ran along his teeth, the telltale sign of him grinning made your heart soar even higher. “Why not now? We can look for what we need, there will be plenty of things to use amongst the forest floor.” He moved over towards a thick grove of trees. “And I will use my teeth and claws to sharpen whatever you may need.”

“You are awfully excited,” you teased, following him carefully. The forest floor was still unventured territory for you, and you would rather avoid tripping and falling if you could help it.

“And you are sad, my little one. I cannot have that, nor allow it,” Bucky said easily, turning around to lead the way. “Now, come. We have branches to find.”

The venture proved to be more enjoyable than you had expected. You merely had to point at the branches on a dead tree, or to the larger ones that lay strewn over the forest floor, and Bucky would pick them up and place them carefully on his antlers, carrying them the whole way. It was only when both his antlers and arms were full did he turn to you, almost exasperated. “Lamb, I think we have enough.”

You grinned and shook your head, pointing to one of the largest branches with your free hand – the small amount of bounty in your hands heavy. “I want that one, and then we can go back–back home to your lair.”

The fur on the back of Bucky’s neck raised a little at your words, and a shiver went down his spine. “Fine,” he said, huffing. “This is the last one. But I will never tire of hearing you call my lair home.”

“I bet you won’t,” you mumbled. Bucky just growled warningly as you skipped away.

Upon arriving back to Bucky’s lair, you tipped the small bundle of branches in your arms onto the floor, just next to the crackling fire that he kept well stocked for you. “I think… Why don’t I make us chimes? Or, maybe, what about some catchers?”

Bucky walked into his lair, dragging the largest branch behind him. He tipped his head down into the far corner to rid his antlers of his bounty. “You make whatever your heart desires.” A solid thump sounded next to you, and you looked over at him – he was laying on the earth of his lair, looking up at you.

The teeth on the sides of his elongated face shone with spit, and you watched, transfixed, as Bucky ran his tongue over his front fangs. “Would you stop that?” you asked, indignant.

“Whatever do you mean?” he hummed, but he stopped all the same, and he eyed the larger branches. “Would you like me to–?”

“Yes, please,” you affirmed, glancing over at them. “That would be very helpful.” Bucky rose again and got to work, sharpening the branches into points with his claws and teeth.

For hours, you sat by the fire and whittled a couple of catchers while Bucky finished working on all of the larger branches. It was a companionable, comfortable silence between the two of you.

“Lamb, sweet,” Bucky said quietly, and you looked up from your lap towards him, to find he was already staring at you. “When I was young, I shed like any buck would. Since I was a beast that was hunted, I kept what I lost–lugging it around with me so no hunter could track me.”

You tilted your head, curious at where Bucky was taking this story.

“And, over the aeons–the centuries, I have amassed quite a collection of old antlers and fangs,” he gestured to the impressive extensions, the few of many weapons at his disposal. “Would you–I mean, if you would want it, I can give you these parts of me to interweave with your creations. They would still have magic after all these years; they would add layers of protection.”

“Oh, Bucky,” you gasped, hand over your heart. The implication of interweaving parts of your other half would no doubt bear an unrivalled amount of protection.

“It will also make me happy if I were to see what you have created out there, parts of you and parts of me interlocked in something of beauty.” He looked down and flexed his hands; his claws shone like refined obsidian with the firelight. “Something you could be proud of–and part of.”

You rose from your spot by the fire and walked over to Bucky, eyes soft and kind. Without an inkling of hesitation, you took the sides of Bucky’s face in your hands, mindful of his teeth, and tilted his head up so you could stare into his eyes. “I would not love anything more.”

“Lamb,” he breathed, and his hand ever so gently cupped yours, the claws kissing your skin. “Oh, how I adore you.”

“It is nothing compared to how much I adore you,” you replied. Tilting his head down a little, you bent and placed a soft kiss between his eyes.

The moon set beyond the horizon a few hours later. Bucky had encouraged you to work away at your creations until you had a round dozen, and he pledged to walk you through the forest, offering to help place the grounds of protection that you had created for your home.

It was a brisk morning and you shuddered as you followed right behind Bucky, careful to stay on the path he was creating with his bulk through the brushes and thickets of brambles. “We are not far now,” he said quietly.

You huffed and looked at his antlers, where the last two chimes hung, ready to be placed. “I should make you some for your antlers,” you mused aloud.

Bucky looked at you sharply and rolled his eyes. “I draw the line there, Lamb. I need them free so I can protect you; protect us. There is also no way that I would risk destroying something you have made for me.”

“Fine,” you sighed. “Still, I am going to.”

There was silence after your proclamation, and you smirked, victorious – you knew he would give in.

“We are here,” Bucky said abruptly, and you ran into his back with a grunt of surprise. “Where would you like it, sweet?”

You looked around, adjusting the shawl over your shoulders for warmth. “How about,” you wondered aloud, looking at the tall pines surrounding you. There was a patch of space between a set of two pines, and a bare branch stuck out at an odd angle – if it were placed there, it would glint in the sun at midday. “Up there! It looks safe.”

Bucky followed your gaze and nodded once. “A fine choice, Lamb.” He stretched up a hand to his antlers and plucked the chime that had his fangs woven into the fibres, before he placed it carefully on the branch. The momentum made the chimes clink and shimmer in the stream of sunlight that suddenly appeared. “It is beautiful. Now, for the last one.”

The two of you set off once more, this time towards a clearing in the distance. Sounds and whispers echoed around you, the harsh sounds making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, and you placed a hand on Bucky’s fur to ground yourself. “You are safe, sweet. I swear,” he murmured, slowing his pace. “It is just the forest spirits, it is Samhain–they are more mischievous than any other, you know they must investigate any being that passes.”

“Okay,” you mumbled, still resting a hand on Bucky’s fur. “I trust you.”

Bucky’s hand brushed over your hair and down your back, a slight purr emanating from his chest. “Why don’t we find the last spot and then head home? You will need to sleep soon, Lamb.”

You nodded and looked around. The trees of this clearing seemed to be teeming with life, an unknown type of magic tinged the air, as well. A pine to your left bore the same qualities as the last, and for some reason, that singular tree felt more friendly. “Why not up there?”

“I like it, sweets–come,” Bucky said quietly, and you followed him, of only a little hesitantly. “I would like you to place it. What do you think?”

“Me? How, I am on-” A gasp of shock interrupted your protest and your feet left the air.

“I will help you, little one,” Bucky whispered, and he moved you through the air with such care you barely even felt the wind on your face. “Place it where you wish.”

With the utmost sense of caution, you carefully placed the twine over the branch of the tree, and it shuddered. You almost gasped with fear when a small face peered out from behind the foliage – a forest pixie. “Oh, my goodness,” you whispered. “I am so sorry-”

“Edna,” Bucky said suddenly, looking over your shoulder. “Hello, my friend.”

The miniscule creature spoke, but there were no words, only small huffs and puffs of breath, followed by tiny squeaks.

“How kind, thank you,” Bucky said softly, lowering you down gently to your feet. “We will leave you be. It was wonderful to see you again.”

Bucky urged you on, his hand never leaving your back as he walked a little ahead of you. “Who was that–what was that? And what did they say?”

“That was Edna–a forest guardian, a small but mighty creature. You never want to find yourself on the bad side of one of them,” he explained. The trail back home was familiar to you in parts, so Bucky slacked to walk on all fours. “She was saying to me that your chime was beautiful, and she adored it–very happy to have it as part of her tree.”

“Her tree?” you questioned. “Is that why that one felt–I mean, looked friendlier?”

Bucky nodded and looked at you. “Yes, and she has promised to return the favour. We may have guests soon.”

You blinked. “Oh, boy.”

“Do not worry,” Bucky teased, and he gently bumped your shoulder with his. “I will help you. You will become a natural–the language is not hard, Lamb. I promise.”

“If you say so,” you murmured. The sense of excitement for meeting a new creature, a possible friend, lit a fire within you – it was quite lonely in the woods, though you loved Bucky’s company, but a friend would never be amiss. Not if they loved your chimes, you decided.

And, with that, you resolved to spend your time perfecting your craft – as well as making Bucky fetch more branches. Just to spite the devil, you laughed inwardly.

who loves the idea of lil' forest friends? 🥹

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #rookthorne's works

122 notes · View notes

allwaswell16 · 10 months

Text

All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in July 2023. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

Fanfictional Podcast #52 | ko-fi | fic recs

—Louis/Harry—

🦩 7 Up by @cherrystreet

(E, 52k, childhood friends) Very loosely based on the British TV show "The Up Series" and somewhat inspired by the song “Something I Need” by Onerepublic, we follow the lives of Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson in an interview setting every seven years.

🦩Darkest Before the Dawn by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose

(E, 50k, fashion au) Everything has a place and it must be in its place in order for him to get anything done. Which is why he grits his teeth every time when he walks into the fashion workroom and sees Louis Tomlinson’s workspace.

🦩 an ocean in my veins (you'll be diving in) by me_her_themoon / @dreamersdivin-headfirst

(E, 31k, uni au) harry and louis hate each other and niall just wants everyone to get along

🦩 When Love Takes Time by sitandadmire / @niallziam

(M, 26k, friends to lovers) Turns out Louis planned a cruise to Hawaii, just for the two of them. The problem? They've been best friends for years, and Marcel is secretly in love with him.

🦩 'cause I want you (for the worse and for the better) by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense

(NR, 26k, a/b/o) When Louis gets invited along to Anne's wedding, Harry is prepared to let people think whatever they want about their relationship. That's what Louis said -- let people think whatever they want.

🦩 what's left of my halo's black by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove

(E, 22k, fwb) A year after a devastating breakup, Louis is still trying to put himself back together - but getting over a breakup is hard when you work as a wedding planner. Thankfully, his coworker Harry is the most supportive friend Louis could ask for.

🦩 taken by lust’s strange inhumanity by CuckooTrooke / @larrydoinglaundry

(E, 20k, a/b/o) The one with all the jealous snarling, awkward first kisses and one unforgettable night.

🦩 Trapezing Secret by thinlines / @thinlinez

(E, 10k, a/b/o) What will happen when your lazy coworker slash biggest knothead you know discovers your secret? Omega Harry doesn't get the time to ponder his answer.

🦩 The Way to My Heart by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(T, 6k, a/b/o) Louis' having a bit of a dry spell, until he bumps into an attractive alpha in the supermarket and leaves with his number. It was a hard bump. Very... muscular. The only problem is, said alpha asks Louis to cook for him - which is not exactly his skill set.

🦩 Truth or Drink by @kingsofeverything

(M, 6k, exes to lovers) Harry and Louis broke up years ago, and they're seeing each other again for the first time to play Truth or Drink. On camera.

🦩 On That Note by @allwaswell16

(E, 6k, a/b/o) Louis’ office job on an omega only floor would be absolutely fine, if not for the alphas he and his friends have to deal with in the building.

🦩 Write You A Song by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings

(G, 5k, neighbors) Harry’s new flat is great but the acoustics are even better. They’re so good in fact that his daily shower concerts start to entertain an audience besides his shampoo bottle.

🦩 Livin' In A Daydream by @lululawrence

(NR, 3k, roommates) Harry originally had thought that the sock he had pulled out was just another one of Louis’ sport socks he left balled up, but when Harry pulled the cuff out, he realized the actual sole of the sock felt… crusty.

🦩 In Time by @allwaswell16

(M, 2k, timestamp) Harry's uncertainty about their relationship began before he ever stepped foot on the plane to Amsterdam. A prequel/timestamp to the fic Bitter Ends Turn Sweet

🦩 Fingertips Putting on a Show by cherrylarry / @beelou

(E, 2k, girl direction) Harry just wants a relaxing self love session in the bathtub when she gets interrupted by a knock on her door.

🦩 Harry, That Kills People by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 2k, organized crime) If there’s one thing that Harry hates, it’s getting his clothes dirty. If there’s one other thing that Harry hates, it’s murder.

🦩 Yours and Mine by @allwaswell16

(T, 1k, timestamp) Louis goes to the library with his favourite people, his boyfriend Harry and his son, Max. A Bitter Ends Turn Sweet timestamp

🦩 seven, seven by @nouies

(NR, 1k, a/b/o) “Hello, baby girl,” Harry says as soon as the nurse places the bundle of joy into his arms. “We’ve been dying to meet you.”

🦩 Completely Oblivious by hazzahtomlinson / @itsnotreal

(G, 1k, friends to lovers) an interaction with a stranger helps these two finally figure their shit out.

🦩 I'll Get You Through by @hellolovers13

(G, 1k, friendship) Louis will always pick up when Harry calls. Always.

🦩 A Cure for First Show Nerves by @haztobegood

(E, 776 words, canon) Harry calls before Louis' first show.

—Rare Pairs—

🦩 if you want it you can have it by eynap / @panye

(E, 5k, Niall/Shawn Mendes) Niall and Shawn have a drunken one-night stand that turns into more than a few surprises.

🦩 a life that's lived without you by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(T, 1k, Zayn/Liam) In all of his 116 years, Zayn has never quite felt this way about anyone. Liam is so incredibly human, in the worst and best ways.

#28th appreciation #ficrec #1dficvillage #hltracks #trackinghappily #trackinghome #tracksintheam #1dsource

97 notes · View notes

oswildin · 10 months

Text

Never Stop {Loki Laufeyson x Reader}

Summary: You tried to save your Loki, leading to you being captured by the TVA. But you escaped, evading them for years with one goal in mind. To burn it to the ground. What you didn’t expect was seeing Loki again. But your past was his would’ve been future. Now you stood before He Who Remains with only one thing on your mind. Revenge. But Loki knows it will never stop the pain.

A/N: Inspired by the Disney series plot, Y/N is in place of Sylvie. Also inspired from my TikTok Loki POV Series - https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGJpd3VKu/

Warnings: None, just sad lol

Looking at He Who Remains made your blood boil. The way he so nonchalantly declared it was his doing you couldn’t go back and save your Loki… The TVA stepping in, capturing you, pulling you away… You lost your Loki to the cruel hands of Thanos, you were forced to watch as the Mad Titan snapped his neck, discarding him like a rag doll, like he was… nothing. But to you…

He was everything.

When the remaining members of the universes mightiest heroes found a way to go back in time to collect the stones, your mind instantly thought of Loki. Going back for the Tesseract was the least of your worries, your entire mind was consumed by the thought of finding a way to bring Loki back with you. It would’ve been Loki before he knew you. But it would’ve been Loki. And he would’ve been alive. 2012 Loki, in 2023. But as you arrived in Stark Tower, standing in the shadows, eyeing the familiar face of Loki, the man you hadn’t seen in five years… A glowing orange portal opened behind you, revealing a group wearing black, armed and helmeted… Dragging you away, muttering about ‘crimes against the sacred timeline’ and ‘variant’.

And so you fought. Tooth and nail. You escaped, and swore you would burn down the TVA to the ground for what they had done. The rage you’d kept buried deep came to the surface, clouding your mind and morals as you allowed it to consume you. Hiding in apocalypses, laying traps, stealing reset charges… All for your plan to go completely off course when you saw him.

Loki.

Working for the TVA. Well, at least associating himself with them. They’d brought him in, clearly having worked out you had a connection to him. His timeline. His future. And so once again, you fought tooth and nail. On Lamentis-1, in the TVA, in the Void…

And here you were. At the end. Loki back at your side, although he had no recollection of your past with him… his would’ve been future with you. He had seen the files. Mobius had showed him who you were to him. He’d seen how you had fought against the natural order of time to try and save him. And that’s when he knew he had to be with you till the end. The end of all this.

“You see… it isn’t about right or wrong-“ He Who Remains looked between the pair, sat at his desk, grand purple robe wrapped over his shoulders. “It’s about maintaining order.” He nodded slightly, brows raised, gaze flickering over them. “It was always going to end this way. You two, me, here at the end of time.” He shrugged, leaning back in his chair.

You clenched your jaw, your hardened gaze focused on He Who Remains, fingers twitching around the hilt of the dagger in your lap. The dagger your Loki had given you in your timeline. His dagger. Loki glanced your direction, eyeing you closely, trying to gauge your next move. He could see the rage in your eyes, the desperation of wanting this all to be over. To get your revenge.

After a moment, you lunged from your seat, raising your dagger as you went to slice at He Who Remains, who didn’t look even the slightest bit surprised. However, a hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you back as you instantly whipped round, dagger pressed against Loki’s chest as you stalked towards him. Loki kept his hands up in a placating gesture, not wanting you to think he was moving to attack.

“What are you doing?” You asked him, furrowing your brows as you finally lowered your dagger.

“Let’s just-“ Loki tried, keeping his voice low and soothing. “-take a minute.” His eyes searched yours, whilst you frowned.

“Take a minute?” You huffed out, shaking your head. “I have had years to think about this.” You said lowly, gripping your dagger at your side. “He deliberately intervened me saving you.”

“What if he’s right?” Loki asked, his own brows furrowing. His eyes held uncertainty, conflicting feelings. “What if by killing him we unleash something far worse?” You pursed your lips, considering his words before taking a step back, away from Loki.

“You’re taking his side?” You breathed out, disbelief in your tone as Loki instantly shook his head.

“What?” He frowned. “No-“ But you cut him off.

“So what?” You narrowed your eyes. “Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly gotten some morals-“ You bit at him.

“Say you kill him, what then?” Loki tilted his head slightly, holding his hands up in front of him towards you. “Do you think it will make you feel better?” He asked, raising a brow. “That it will dull the hurt? The rage?” He let out a small bitter laugh, shaking his head. “The rage that sits deep inside-“ He moved to jab himself in the chest, pointing at his heart. “-here. You think the more you do to try and ease it, the more destruction and killing will help ease it?” He let out a breath, his own eyes turning slightly glassy. “It doesn’t.” He paused. “And it probably never will.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling the rising inside of the hurt he had referred to, blinking as you pulled your gaze away from him. Something in your mind told you he was right, but reason had left you long ago. It hurt Loki to see you looking so… Conflicted. Torn. So full of anger that it had seemingly taken over you. All because of him. Future or not, it was his death that had led you on this path.

“Move.” The word left your lips before you could stop it, turning your narrowed eyes back to Loki. Loki let out a breath, his shoulders slumping slightly as he straightened up.

“I can’t let you do this.” Loki told you softly.

“You promised you were with me.” You said, voice cracking slightly, a whirlwind of emotions rushing through you. Before Loki could even blink, you had raised your dagger, as his instincts kicked in, summoning his own as it clashed with yours.

You fought, face creased and determined as you knew you would kill He Who Remains… Whether Loki liked it or not. You have a quick jab to Loki’s chest with your free hand, causing him to stumble back as you turned on your heel, stalking towards He Who Remains. But Loki was quick to recover, rushing towards you, sliding to a stop in front of you as your blades locked, both pushing against each other.

“Please- Y/N- Just think-“ Loki pleaded, his brows furrowed, eyes holding yours as you grit your teeth.

“I did this for you!” You exclaimed, frustration and exhaustion in your voice. “He has taken everything!” You cried, leaning forwards slightly as you look at Loki. “So you may as well do it-“ You lowered your voice, your own eyes now slick with a sheen of unshed tears. “Kill me.” Your voice cracked, as Loki’s expression softened, looking almost heartbroken by your words.

“No.” Loki whispered, his own voice hoarse. You let out a roar of anger, finally shoving him away from you with all your might. As he flew back, you didn’t waste any time, running towards He Who Remains, dagger held high as you prepared to finally end him.

A green shimmer appeared before you, immediately stopping your blade as it pressed against Loki’s neck, his hands up as he threw his dagger down. You instantly stilled, tensing as he looked at you.

“Stop-“ Loki begged, tone almost ordering. “Y/N, just…” He paused, letting out a deep breath. “Stop…” He added gently, cautiously moving his hands to grasp your arms tentatively. A moment of silence passed between you, Loki pressed against the desk between you and He Who Remains. “Please.”

You blinked up at him, your grip on your dagger relaxing slightly as you slowly pulled it away from his neck, closing your eyes to hold back the tears.

“I wouldn’t want you to do this.” Loki told you lowly, urgency in his eyes. “Future me, past me or this me-“ He breathed out, his eyes growing glassier with each word. You finally reopened your eyes, looking up at him. “I’ve seen what you’ve tried to do. And I’ve seen what you would do to do it.” His voice wavered slightly, but kept its calming tone, trying to reason with you and make you see this wasn’t the way. “I can’t let you become like me.” He shook his head slightly, hands gently squeezing your arms. “Because it will never end here.” His bottom lip quivered slightly. “You’ve seen it already. With my past.” Finally, a tear fell from one of his blue eyes, as you felt your own cheeks begin to get damp. “You have to stop fighting for me.”

At his words, you let out a shaky breath, a small sob escaping your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to control your emotions. Loki felt his chest tighten at the sight, seeing you so vulnerable, angry, hurt… Steadying your breath, you reopened your eyes meeting his own, seeing the vulnerability in his own gaze.

“I’ll never stop fighting for you.” You whispered, seeing his breath catch slightly at your words. Loki wasn’t used to such… conviction, promise from someone else. Especially, not towards him. For him.

A second passed, before you closed the gap between you, moving your free hand to rest on his shoulder as you pressed your lips to his own. Instantly Loki melted into it, closing his eyes as he felt a swell of emotion in his chest. You felt another tear fall as you put everything into the kiss, all the longing, the years without him, the love you felt for Loki. All of him. This him and the one you knew. Loki moved one of his hands to your waist, holding you close as you both spun slightly, you now stood where he had been.

Finally pulling away, Loki’s gaze held yours, emotion swirling in his eyes as he regarded you. You. The one who had done everything in your power to save him. You gently moved your hand to rest on his chest as he slowly leaned towards you, going to kiss you again. You felt your heart break as you knew what you had to do.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, brows furrowed, causing his own to do the same in confusion. “Laufeyson.” You paused. “Y/N Laufeyson.” Your voice wavered slightly, the name you hadn’t spoken since the TVA had caught you. Loki’s eyes widened slightly, before you gave him a push backwards, causing him to fall back through the time door you had sneakily opened behind him, using He Who Remains’ TemPad device. Quickly, the portal closed behind Loki, separating him from you. You looked at the space where he was stood sadly, wondering if you had made the right choice.

But you had to finish the mission. Your mission. You had worked too hard, endured too much to simply walk away from He Who Remains…

Loki sat on the steps in the TVA, your last words to him echoing in his mind.

Y/N Laufeyson.

#loki x reader #loki imagine #loki laufeyson #loki #loki laufeyson x y/n #loki laufeyson x reader #marvel x reader #mcu loki #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #marvel imagine #loki x you #loki pov #Spotify

143 notes · View notes

ad0rechuu · 10 months

Text

★ MILKY WAY. ━━ (047) if only she knew

WORD COUNT. 1334

WARNINGS. just awkwardness ig

credits to @ari-shipping-stuff for being my beta reader / writer <33

SEONGHWA’S EYES MOVE OVER HIS FAMILIAR WALLS TO AVOID EMBARRASSING HIMSELF. OR WORSE, SEEMING LIKE A CREEP WATCHING HER.

It sure is an effort, he thinks. It does feel like a whole task to not accidentally let his eyes wander back to his phone screen where she’s deeply focused on tuning her guitar.

“I’m sorry that took a while. I’m not exactly a pro in guitar.” Yn looked back up, adjusting her screen at the same time. “Thank you again, Hwa, I think I would’ve abandoned this project if it wasn’t for you.”

His nickname falling so effortlessly from her lips truly does things to him. It has his heart racing in a way he can get used to. Seonghwa looks away in an attempt to hide his odd-colored cheeks. He couldn't help but wonder if she actually noticed.

That’s the issue. He never knows what she does and doesn’t notice. He hopes she doesn’t notice that his eyes linger on her a beat longer than normally when she speaks and that his hands always want to reach out to help her, even through the screen.

“It’s really no problem, I’m just happy to help.” He replies back, cringing internally at his own voice.

She nods and taps something offscreen. “I’ll play the instrumental that I’ve come up with first and you can let me know what you think. Then when we’re writing, I’ll just play it acoustically, okay?”

“Okay!”

While K-Pop companies were known for their exceptionally bad connection during lives and stuff, he could hear and see her just fine. The honeyed melody of the untitled song plays trough the speaker of his phone, and he can't help but marvel in the fact that she’d feel comfortable enough to share something as intimate as a song with him.

She soon meets his eyes, excitement for his reaction twinkling in her own.

Seonghwa feels himself melting at the sight, the agreement with his friends now far in the back of his mind. The only thing on his mind now was her.

The song ends, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“So what did you think?” Yn asks shyly. It's not a common look on her. While she definitely isn’t the loudest in her group, she was never one to be shy like this. At least, not what he knew.

The need to dote on her until he’s sure that she knows how great her work is is pushed back down. He doesn’t want to weird her out but he does want to let her know.

Instead, he furrows his thick brows, deep in thought. “It’s very pretty, it feels like— how do I explain it… it feels like a summer sunset. Like how it feels to look at those pretty colors up in the clouds with someone you care about.

“It sounds optimistic!” He stops, eyes softening up as he finally realizes the word he’s looking for. “Romantic! …It sounds romantic.”

Yn claps in excitement at his comments. “That’s exactly what I was going for, I was watching this drama really cute drama when I came up with it.”

She strings the first few notes of the chorus. “Okay, let’s start!”

About an hour later, the pair works together like they have known nothing else for their whole lives. It just comes so easy to them.

Suddenly, Seonghwa hears a noise interrupting the peaceful atmosphere. He looks up from his notebook in surprise when he sees two of his younger friends stand at in front of his bedroom door, smiling while holding snacks.

Unsure of how to react, he gives the girl on the other side of the screen an apologetic smile. She heard the noise too and gives him back a curious look. Just as she’s about to ask, two figures have jumped on top of Seonghwa, toppling over his phone in the process.

San and Mingi scream greetings on the top of their lungs, so loud that Seonghwa worries that his neighbors are going to bring him noise complaints later. He just barely manages to utter out a few words from underneath them.

“Wait, phone— Yn!” He points in the general direction of phone.

“Yn?!” Mingi gets up quickly as he looks around for the fallen phone. When he grabs it, he’s met with the familiar face.

“Oh, hey, Mingi!” The sheer shock causes the bright-haired boy to lose his composure and drops it again.

As soon as San hears the voice he crawls off the bed to inspect himself, just barley in time to catch the device. Yn gets greeted by an open mouthed stare from him, making her laugh.

“And hello, San!”

“H-hi.” He replies quietly while Mingi freaks out, screaming without sound offscreen.

Seonghwa rolls his eyes at his friends' antics and snatches the phone out of San’s hand.

“I’m sorry about this, Yn, I had no idea they were coming over.” He explains apologetically.

After finally calming down Mingi’s sharp features come on the screen and covers his own face to also take a look at the girl.

“Hey Yn, how are you?” Mingi asks a little bit too loud for Seonghwa’s liking.

San copies Mingi’s actions, practically leaning over Seonghwa’s lap to get a glance. “Are you coming to Hanuelsan again soon?” He pouts.

“It’s okay, it’s a nice surprise.” Yn’s giggles don’t stop, warming all of the boys' hearts unintentionally. “Also, I’m good, thank you for asking Mingi. Hwa was helping me write lyrics. We just finished the chorus actually.

“And I’ll visit the cafe soon, San.” She promises. “What are you guys up to?”

Seonghwa nods furiously, trying to make sure he’s in frame too as he shoots an annoyed look at his friends. “No, really, why are you guys here? And how the hell did you even get inside?”

San smiles back, completely ignoring his hyung, his dimples showing as he does. “We were just bored so we decided to stop by.” He gives Seonghwa a quick shrug, the dreamy expression still on his face. “And we used a key, obviously.”

“How did they even get a key.” He mumbles to himself in confusion.

“Yunh—” San can’t finish his word before he gets cut off.

Suddenly Mingi stands up with an offended look on his face as a realization hits him. “You needed help with lyrics and you didn’t ask me? I’m literally a rapper.”

“I’m sorry, Princess, he offered.” Yn chuckles at his whining, while the other boys definitely don’t agree, it’s very cute to her. “I mean, you could help now if you want, since you’re there anyway. You too, San, the more the merrier!”

Both of the boys agree and after some squabbling, they are finally sat in a way that keeps all three of them pleased.

“So what’s the song called?” San asks as he reads over the neat notes Seonghwa took.

Yn thinks for a while but as she meets the eldest eyes an imaginary lightbulb goes off inside of her head. “I think I’ll call it Milky Way!”

Her hands find the guitar again as she plays the song for them, this time with part of the new lyrics.

Seonghwa doesn’t know if he’s supposed to feel proud or upset but he does know that the ugly green monster called jealousy is climbing in his chest as he watches the others. Deep in his heart, he knows he’s not the only one that carries these feelings for her.

An identical blush forms on their cheeks as they watch her lips move. Yn doesn’t know. She doesn't know that all three of them share the same thought as they look at her, the passion for music pouring out in the way she sings and the warmth she brings isn’t something that could be rivaled by the sun. They all know it.

Seonghwa, San, and Mingi also know for sure now that the situation they were in was a ticking time bomb, getting closer to explode every moment they spend with her.

If only she knew too.

‹ PREVIOUS ᜊ NEXT ›

NOTES. i love them i really do LIKE REALLY do but i’m sorry for the future guys </3 and the last pic is yn posting the audio file for milky way on her priv btw also next chapter will have a slight time skip

TAGLIST. @bunnystrm @seongwin @aestheticsluut @meginthebuilding27 @gaebestie @stopeatread @pr1ncessm1ng1 @persphonesorchid @se0nghwaswife @seonghwasslytherin @leeknowsnothing @alixnsuperstxr @bluehwale-main @miriamxsworld @tocupid @rieuvie @sunoo-bby @jcngh0-hq @dudufodd @nikisbf @mrowwww @end0rchans @qtdenks @mintgki @dear-dreamie @leo-seonghwa @legohwas @evilsailorsenshi @seonghwaddict @choichaeyiul @iw4milf @yunstarz @cvberidiot @tubatu-wari-wari @not2daym8 @jaehunnyy @brrrkdslek @whippedforbeomgyu @amara-mars @crvzy-fujoshi

146 notes · View notes

silawastaken · 1 month

Note

it’s me again. new Taylor swift album. ssk thoughts?

first, i woke up at 4:30 in the morning to listen to this album the moment it came out. And I WAS going through it thinking about skk when I wasn't bawling my eyes out over certain lyrics that were personal attacks

I do want to take a moment to talk about the actual album itself on its own for a moment just because omfg i love it, and something I really liked with tpd in comparison to more of her recent albums, is the music seems very simple, with a focus on lyricism, which had always been a theme with her music, that the lyrics are more important, but it just. It's so well done here.

Also, there's a very nice mix between the synth pop of midnights, and the more acoustic vibes from folklore and evermore in this album, when i listened to the first song i thought the whole album was going to have that same vibe, and was very pleasantly surprised at the first piano track.

Also a lot of the lyrics are very reminiscent of her earlier albums, thinking speak now and fearless. it feels most obvious with i can do it with a broken heart and who's afraid of little old me- which by the way, based off the title I thought i would HATE whos afraid of little old me, but i actually really like it??? like it's a very 'cringe' phrase, it's made fun of mercilessly, but it works surprisingly well.

The songs all seem to have an earlier album they could tie back to, with the same vibes or styles of lyrics, and it's so nice to listen to while thinking of what it could possibly tie back to.

This definitely isn't my favourite album, i was expecting something different i think, but it's still really good, and there are quite a few really good songs on it. guilty as sin? and clara bow are my personal favourites i think :3

But I would like to direct your attention to the second song on the album, 'The Tortured Poets Department'

I LOVE a title drop in a song, it drives me insane for real, and i actually screamed. But more importantly, in reference to this, it is VERY skk to me, like I listened to it and instantly was thinking of how i was going to reference this song in an au some day.

But imo, this song is 100% Chuuya pov skk and well the autism is working overtime so I will be doing an analysis I'm so sorry this is what I'm using my time for but AUGH brainrot im sorry i have interests

'You left your typewriter at my apartment' - starting off by mentioning that this is what i thought of when considering references, because im a sucker for writer skk, and i thought a really cool thing would be Dazai leaving a typewriter behind when he left for some reason, and then Chuuya picking it up and eventually using it, especially with one of the following lines being 'who uses a typewriter anyway?', something he used to judge Dazai for then becoming something he does himself is just *polite clapping* i love it and I will be giving dazai a typewriter at somepoint

'But you're in self sabotage mode, throwing spikes down on the road' - Dazai is very mentally ill, and likely does self sabotage, ESPECIALLY if it were to be his relationship with Chuuya, his bandages are an allegory for the fact that he doesn't let anyone see below the surface of his personality, and that does go for Chuuya as well. He doesn't allow for that kind of vulnerability and in all likelihood, if he were to end up in a situation where he did need to be vulnerable, he'd self sabotage and try and fuck it up just to get out of that situation. However, there's also the next lines;

'But I've seen this episode and still love the show, who else decodes you?' - which is to say that regardless of the 'episode' dazai would be having in that moment, chuuya would still love him, and can decode him to understand what he is doing, which is a VERY skk thing, being able to decode what the other is thinking when they do things, and their intentions. He would be able to work out what was going on, and be able to work things out.

'And who's gonna hold you like me? And who's going to know you, if not me?' - skk have that insane bond that they don't have with anyone else, they know each other better than anyone else, and they both probably know it, regardless of whether they admit it or not, and (don't attack me im a multishipper) they're genuinely unmatched as a duo, there's not another team with either of them that are stronger than the two of them together. Nobody is going to know them the way that they know each other, it's just impossible given how close they had to be, and the environment they were in. The entire Dazai makes Chuuya feel human and Chuuya makes Dazai feel alive thing. As the post chorus says, nobody will do it the same.

'I scratch your head, you fall asleep, like a tattooed golden retriever' - rare moments of vulnerability my beloved, but my specific picking of this line is Dazai's constant insistence that Chuuya is his dog, while frequently behaving in a way(esp ada dazai) that would be more suited to a golden retriever. There's also something I want to say here about the comparison to a dog, by a person he loves. But it is canon that Dazai at the very least does not like dogs, and in fanon he is frequently portrayed as afraid of them.

Here, this could be translated as it being a metaphor, Dazai being vulnerable like a dog, something he is scared of/hates. He isn't just scared of dogs, he's scared of vulnerability in any form, and comparing him to a dog when he is like that would be to emphasise that point, that he hates them both. This also opens the implication that Chuuya is aware of both of these fears.

But he is like a dog, and being vulnerable, and in that moment, he would be exactly what he hates most, his is everything he hates. And Chuuya loves him anyway, despite knowing how much he hates himself. And he makes himself vulnerable around Chuuya, regardless of how much he's scared of it.

'Sometimes i wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me' - this lyric makes me think of concerns about Dazai leaving again after they reunite at 22, perhaps Chuuya's own concerns of getting too comfortable only for one of their many issues to come and blow everything up in their faces, like how in a earlier lyric the relationship in the song is referred to as a cyclone, the fear is that it gets out of control, even if they know what they're doing, or trying to do.

'But you had told Lucy you'd kys if i ever leave, and i said the same to jack so i felt seen' - oh boy toxic co-dependency time. skk are so co-dependent it's literally insane, their lives often genuinely rest in each others hands, not even mentioning whatever the fuck went on in mersault. From Chuuya relying on Dazai to nullify corruption, to Chuuya being the reason Dazai decided to try living a little in 15, there have been multiple instances in which if it wasn't for the other they would be dead. They trust each other with their lives, and could very easily end up in a state where if one were to leave, the other would make an attempt on their own life (moreso dazai than chuuya, but it really could go either way).

'Everyone we know understands why it's meant to be, cause we're crazy, so tell me, who else is gonna know me?' - Anything else aside, skk are fucking insane. they deserve each other just so they don't bring danger to literally anyone else they interact with. They're insane, especially around/about each other, and again, they're the only ones who fully understand each other. Dazai is the only one left from during stormbringer as well, which is think is important to mention. Dazai was there during sb and the dragons head conflict, both times that Chuuya's friends were killed, if anyone was going to understand how he might have felt after that experience, or what happened, it would be Dazai. They understand each other in ways others would never manage.

'At dinner, you take my ring off my middle finger, and put it on the one people put wedding rings on, and that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding' - skk are literally married guys. dating six years, married four years, divorced eight times and broken up 52, but also never stopped dating and are best friends who plan how to kill the other for fun. They're married, but they're also not, but also their souls are tied together in ways not made for the human brain to comprehend. This feels very much like domestic skk fic interactions and i'm 100% here for it.

Anyway, this song is very skk coded and I love it so much, tell me why i spent an hour on this. I don't think this was what you were looking for but... this is what you got. If you want me to go through any other songs like this then i'll do it. I love skk and taylor swift so much i can't even think like im afaifiegbi im pretty sure taylor has a tumblr account so there is like a 0.0000001% she would see this and that has me... panicking but anyway :D i have lots of thoughts all the time and thank you for indulging me with this ask i NEEDED to get this out of my system before i exploded!!!

20 notes · View notes