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#but the rest of the lyrics work so well
bleaksqueak · 1 month
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Someone tagged my painting of Audric with "London After Midnight - Sacrifice" and now I've been listening to it again. It's one of my favorite songs, but I never considered it a great song for Audric until just now.
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felizusnavidad · 2 months
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so tired, so sleepy
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coconut530 · 6 months
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Good Intentions + Shiloh
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laceratedlamiaceae · 1 year
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Izzy and Ed // Sun Bleached Flies - Ethel Cain
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rotisseries · 9 months
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i think my zelink playlist is my only good one like this shit is devastating genuinely
#the one exception on there being I would do anything for love by meatloaf#which is a classic case of “I like this song so much that I'm gonna black out and insist it goes here anyway even if it maybe doesn't”#lyrically that song is fine its just that the rest of the playlist is sad indie shit so it fucks with the vibes a bit#anyway this post is kind of a lie my el and max ones are also good and also probably better than the zelink one#it's just that 99 percent of the time if I make a character/ship/feeling playlist I get like 4 songs in it#go “hmm I'll work on this more another time” and never touch it again. so. most of them suck#and that's part of the reason my entire spotify profile is private#but the zelink one. well it's technically also not done to me hence why I made it in may and then never sent it to gloomy#hi gloomy sorry gloomy#but it's like 2 hours long which in retrospect is I think a normal length for playlists but not to me not if it's you#2 hours is normal if you curate that shit I don't curate my ideal playlist is an 8 hour monstrosity with every song#that even briefly induces character feelings#so um. georgia by phoebe bridgers though#anyway I was actually listening to the zelink playlist today bc I was thinking about ANOTHER couple. um😐#and it was genuinely getting rancid awful radioactive in my brain so I was like “FUCK THIS!! I NEED TO THINK ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE”#and forcibly induced a zelink breakdown#prescribed 500 ml of zelinkism to combat The Diseases
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jungwookjins · 2 years
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someone get this man out of the studio i think spending 24/7 there is having effects 😭😭
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deus-ex-mona · 9 months
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watching people be blatantly wrong on main be l i k e
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gaysonlyocean · 10 months
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og maybe not "thing" -silly
OH DONT YOU DOUBT YOURSELF
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THIS BIT ALONE GOT IT IN THERE
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stillcarmine · 1 year
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What if… instead of falling in love on her island, Leo just had a whole When He Sees Me epiphany and Calypso indulged her new friend and used her wind spirits to move props around and make dummies and helped him through his realization?
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gregmarriage · 2 years
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father by the front bottoms is SUCH a mike wheeler song
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sophegg · 2 years
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Okay, so I’ve been seeing some Lovejoy crit after the short video from their live show circulated around the internet and as someone who enjoys them and considers themself at least semi-knowledgeable about music, I feel compelled to write about why I still enjoy them. I won’t be talking about their live performance in particular, as Wilbur himself called it a “live rehearsal” — it’s not meant to be perfect, it’s not representative of what they can be after more practice, and I really don’t think it’s fair to judge them too harshly based solely on that.
I am someone who loves music. I was a full on band kid in school, I teach myself about music theory for fun, and I have playlists for different moods and occasions on practically all the time. I am somehow who really values instrumentals and treats the vocals as a single instrument, and don’t think they should carry an entire song. So I don’t enjoy pop music at all, because I think it’s really boring. I love interesting chord combinations and unique rhythms , and I don’t place too much importance on lyrics. I don’t listen to many songs from the same bands, because most of the songs I like because there’s a specific set of chords or a rhythms that just wormed it’s way into my head and then I listen to the song on repeat for a week and add it into my playlists.
So how does this all apply to Lovejoy? Well, for starters, I know their lyrics aren’t exactly anything revolutionary, but that doesn’t really matter to me. Wilbur isn’t an exceptionally talented vocalist either, but as I am an American, hearing a British accent that doesn’t go away when someone sings is a different and unique new kind of sound to me, and it’s a sound that I enjoy. But I’m not listening to indie music for talented individual musicians — that’s what I listen to musical theatre music and classical music for. I’m listening to it for how the consistent crashing in the cymbals in IAFIAP feel like they’re spreading through my brain and how the guitar riff in Concrete makes me have to tap my foot every time I listen to it and how the instrumental pauses in the verses of Taunt contrasted by a flowing chorus are satisfying to hear to every single time and how I can listen to instrumental versions of any song and have them still be super enjoyable. They do unique and interesting things with their music, and they are things that I enjoy!
Now, are they they only band to ever do these things? Obviously not, I’m not trying to claim they are the best band ever or anything. There might even be other bands who do these things better than them, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still enjoy Lovejoy doing them. I am a music lover, not a music critic. I listened to their music before I knew much of anything about Wilbur, so my opinion of them actually is really not influenced by him. I just heard their music and my brain went “yeah. add to playlist. we like” as it does with all sorts of random songs, and here we are.
In summery, something doesn’t have to be the best in any way for you to love and enjoy it. I think a lot of people get so focused on critically consuming things (which is generally a good thing!) that we sometimes forget how to just enjoy things for what they are. I don’t need to compare Lovejoy to others who do things better or worse than them in order to justify liking them to prove that it’s the Correct thing to do. Lovejoy is a British indie band that has chord progressions and rhythms that my brain vibes with, and so I am a fan of their music. And that’s all
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tyunni · 2 months
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┈➤ I LIKE YOU SO MUCH!!! (when ENHYPEN like you...)
enhypen masterlist | library
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genre: fluff, fluff, fluff! warnings: i'm not sure if any specific gender is mentioned but keep in mind i do tend to usually write fem!reader, enha r kinda losers, mentions of being drunk in jakes part, isnt proofread so if you see any mistakes.... oh well! wc: 2.6k+
a/n: good lord, i haven't written anything in MONTHS so i'm a bit rusty 😭 i started writing maknae line first im p sure you can tell i put more effort in them and then i started getting tired, sorry😭😭😭
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☆ — LEE HEESEUNG
who would've thought the cool, the chill, the awesome lee heeseung would end up being such a loser. a lovestruck, foolishly in love loser.
your fingers lightly grazed his hand when you walked past him in the hallway today, a touch that lasted a mere second, yet heeseung's heart exploded, and so did his friends' group chat when he boasted about your interaction like you had just asked his hand in marriage. he knows being lovesick is lame, but so what?! he can't help that he melts into a pink puddle of adoration whenever you make small talk, or when he closes his eyes an image of you pops into his head and makes his palms feel sweaty. yes, he feels his knees go weak at the mere mention of your name, and he's willing to endure his younger friends teasing him every time they spot you hanging out with your own group of friends.
so what if you're the only thing on his mind every second of his day. it's completely normal to make playlists for your crush, giggle, and roll around in your bed when you let the lyrics sink in and fill your head with the thoughts of the one you desire.
it's also totally normal of him to write down little compliments on a piece of paper and put them on your desk when you're not looking. he giggles like a little girl when you open the note and read not even a third fraction of what heeseung truly thinks of you and wishes to tell you one day. his smile grows wider when you finally read the initials written on the note, LHS, and you look over to his desk with your cheeks dusted pink, widened eyes looking into heeseung's.
(rest of the members under the cut!!)
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☆ — PARK JONGSEONG
jay is very fond of you, he accepted that quite quickly. you're cute. he likes cute stuff, that's something new he has discovered since he started to fancy you.
"jay, are you serious?" - riki turned towards the older with a blank face, tired of his friends new shopping addiction, - "you have like 4 hello kitty stuffed toys in your bedroom, you don't need another one."
ah, innocent, naive riki. he doesn't know having a crush makes one forget about any form of rationality and make every decision without giving it another thought. jay is the number one victim of the 'everything reminds me of them' disease, he feels every wrinkle of his brain smoothen whenever he thinks of you, so it's not a surprise that he can't control his hand as he swipes his credit card and buys himself another plushie with a lovestruck grin on his face.
"are you even listening to me?" - the younger complains, jabbing jay's arm with his elbow to get at least a little reaction out of him. if anything else but you were on jay's mind this would've worked and he would've scolded riki by now, talking his ear off about how annoying he is, clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes at his childishness. but it doesn't work.
"you're such a cheeseball, y/n has made you soft, jay, she's ruining you!"
but riki's words fall on deaf ears the second jay's eyes land on another cute stuffed animal that had reminded him of you as he grabs his friend's arm roughly and drags him into yet another store.
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☆ — SIM JAEYUN
oh, he's down bad. jake would do anything for you. yes, even walking all the way from his house to the party you were at just to pick you up and walk you home, making sure you reach your house safely.
you called him in the middle of the night, the buzzing of his phone waking jake up. he groaned at the brightness of his screen flashing his newly opened eyes, yet at the sight of your name he rubbed the sleepiness off them, quickly picking up your call.
"jake, i'm drunk!"
and that's all it took for him to jump out of his bed and run towards his destination. surely enough you were waiting outside for him, a big smile growing on your face at the sight of him.
sure, he was extremely tired and out of breath, his voice was still groggy from waking up around 10 minutes ago, the cold, chilly night yet to have its effect on him and wake him up completely, yet he still let you ride on his back when you started complaining about how your heels hurt your feet.
you had been talking to him about something, even though you had no idea what you were saying with the way your words were slurred, your voice muffled by his jacket. jake was nodding his head, humming after a few sentences to make sure you knew he was listening, even though he didn't know what he was listening to. you started off by talking about the party, and somewhere along the way you got lost in your own words and so did jake. his soft hums and the steady rhythm of his feet lulled you to sleep, and when he felt your eyelashes close against the nape of his neck, your breath falling onto his skin as your cheek rested further upon his shoulder is when he finally let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head, stopping in his tracks to close his eyes and think to himself:
"fuck, i love her, don't i?"
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☆ — PARK SUNGHOON
sunghoon is desperately in love with you. he can't help it, butterflies swarm his stomach when he thinks about you, a sheepish grin makes its way onto his features when you talk to him, his eyes dart across your face every chance he gets so he can burn every second spent with you right into his memory.
"sunghoon, do you think this looks good or should i try on the blue sweater?"
to be completely honest, even if you wore a trash bag he'd think you looked gorgeous, and he hadn't been paying attention to any outfit you had shown him so far, your smile which grew wider with each compliment he gave you the only thing on his mind.
"you look beautiful, y/n."
"oh, come on, sunghoon! you've been telling me this about every outfit!" - you groan, yet a grin is still plastered on your face at his sweet words, "you have to help me!"
sunghoon tries, he really tries to hold himself back. his teeth sink into his tongue in hopes of biting back the words that were about to slip out, yet they still do. and so does his little secret.
"it's not my fault i'm in love with you!"
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☆ — KIM SUNOO
sunoo is a sweet guy. everyone likes him: the teachers, the students, his friends, and complete strangers. his smile is contagious, his face is soft and beautiful, his eyes crinkle up when he smiles, and he's kind, helpful, friendly. who wouldn't like him? well, you, apparently.
it's not that he's intrigued by your cold attitude towards him, he's simply determined to make you like him just like everyone else. it's quite difficult to get to know you though, you don't speak to anyone except a select few. if your friends don't come to school you usually sit alone, either mindlessly scribbling in your notebook, or sleeping. you always have that look on your face. one of pure boredom, uninterest, that "why are you even talking to me" face.
sunoo thinks it's stupid. how could you not be thrilled to talk to the people around you? how is it even possible to not want to get to know everyone, to grow your circle, have new people to talk to and share experiences with.
you know who sunoo is. everyone knows who sunoo is. when he walks past you down the hallway he's always waving at someone, stopping in his tracks a few times to have a little small talk, then quickly picking up his pace once the bell rings so he gets to make it in time for class. it doesn't matter if he's late though, the teachers adore him like he's their own son, and he hasn't gotten a single second of detention. sunoo has the sunshine privilege. that's unfair. you don't like when things are unfair. you don't like the sunshine privilege. you don't like sunoo.
so you avoid him.
but he somehow still finds his way back to you.
"she totally hates you, dude, get over it," - sunghoon groans, shoving another loaf of bread into his mouth, and threatening to shove some into sunoo's mouth so he stops talking about you for the fifth time today.
"but why?! i didn't even do anything to her, i tried talking to her every single day since she moved here, i'm nice, i'm helpful, i'm a great guy, what am i doing wrong?!" - the younger boy whines into his palms, head buried in his hands, trying to come up with a way to win you over.
one of his other friends chimes into the conversation, taking a seat in between his friends and playfully wrapping his arm around sunoo, - "it's okay, man, there must be a way to get your little crush to like you!"
sunoo whips his head towards the boy, eyebrows furrowed so deeply that you'd think they'd merge into one another any second. - "heeseung, it's not a crush!"
sunghoon chuckles at his oblivious friend, - "is too!"
"... is it?"
you are kinda cute. your attitude, although not sunoo's style, makes you look even more adorable. you have pretty lips too, although you're always frowning. he thinks you'd look better with the corners of your lips turned upwards though. he wants to see you smile. he wants to make you smile. he wants to make you his.
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☆ — YANG JUNGWON
jungwon thinks he's a pretty chill guy. he's always been levelheaded. most of the time he's the only levelheaded person in the room, to be completely honest. he knows what to say and when to say it. although he resembles a cat, the saying "cat got your tongue" had never applied to him. so why is he standing in front of you, his crush, ready to have his very first conversation with you, without a single word coming out of his mouth?
"oh, hey! jungwon, right?" - you ask, sending a soft smile his way.
you know his name. you know his name. you know his name.
"huh? yeah... i'm jungwon. um..." - his confident smile fades instantly when it really sinks in that he has no idea what to say to you. he always knows what to say, how could this happen to him?! this is ridiculous. if he weren't standing in front of you right now he'd slap himself in hopes of rattling his brain somehow.
your eyebrows furrow at the awkward silence taking over, - "do you need anything, jungwon?"
his name falls past your lips so gracefully that if hearing you say his name followed with the three words he wants to say to you the most means he must sell his every worldly possession, he will. but he can't tell you that. he can't tell you how pretty your eyes are either, he can't tell you that he wants to hold your hand, or wrap his arms around you and keep you in his warm embrace for a little while. or how he wants to bury his head in the crook of your neck and bask in your warmth, or that you're the most beautiful person he has ever laid his eyes on and it'd be an honor to take you out on a date. yeah, he definitely can't say that.
"you're the most beautiful person i've ever laid my eyes on, it'd be an honor to take you out on a date..."
it's over. he's a goner.
the way you twiddle with your fingers at his confession goes completely unnoticed despite his big round eyes growing wider at his own words. he's too far gone to see how a warm smile had made its way onto your face.
"sure, i'd love to!"
it's not over. in fact, it's just getting started.
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☆ — NISHIMURA RIKI
riki is quite good at hiding his crush on you, considering how the overwhelming feelings have such a weight to them that he's sure his heart doubles at the mere mention of your name to make room for the intense emotions that'll start kicking in. you two aren't dating, although he wishes you were, and you're most definitely not best friends. he knows you, you know him, you think he's nice, he thinks about you every second of every day, y'know, the usual...
"riki, hey!" - you push through the crowd of students walking around a narrow hallway that could only be described as a jar filled to the brim with tiny little ants, very studious one's at that!
his friends' heads immediately turn your way. a girl, talking to riki?! although their eyes don't stay glued on you for too long, they quickly glance at riki. the sight was hilarious, his long fingers were brushing through his disheveled hair, free hand tugging at the hem of his hoodie to smoothen out any wrinkles. there's a soft tint of pink spread across his cheeks, nothing too noticeable, although the burning red glow of his ears was far from discreet.
"y/n, hey!" - he grins, the hand combing through his hair now scratching the nape of his neck to try and play it cool... very smooth! a muffled laugh escapes from one of his friend's shut lips as their orbs dart between the boy and you.
you reach into your pocket, rummaging through the various things you keep inside. crackling of your house keys and noises of crumpled-up paper can be heard before you take out something. riki's eyes try their best to tear away from your mesmerizing features so he can see what you're trying to show him with your arm stretched towards him and a big grin on your face. he notices a little something lying on your palm. it's a duck keychain. if you were any other person he'd look at the item in your hand with a disgusted look on his face, eyebrows knitted together, eyes squinting in pure horror. but you're you. you're the love of his life. that's probably why riki can feel his heart thumping against his ribcage, a stupid smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he tries his best to fight it off, yet the inevitable happens.
"take it, it's a gift! i saw it on the way to school and it reminded me of you!"
he quickly takes the keychain from your palm, ensuring his fingers stray as far away from yours as possible. even the slightest bit of physical contact and he feels his heart will explode for good. he mumbles out a thank you before you turn on your heels and walk away, completely oblivious that the butterflies in his stomach now make their way towards his throat, making him swallow dry.
"hey, riki, what's that?" - jungwon nudges him with his elbow, eyeing the item riki's holding between his fingers. a smile makes its way onto jungwon's lips as he glances up at his friend who's currently grinning from one red ear to another, rosy cheeks like pink buttons on a sweater made with love and care.
"i thought you hated ducks," - sunoo adds, sly hands reaching towards the keychain to try and pry it out of riki's hands, but instead the tall boy clutches harder onto the item, bringing it to his chest.
"well i like this one!" - he adds, furrowing his eyebrows and glaring at his nosy friend.
riki never knew he could like ducks this much.
©tyunni please don't copy, translate or repost any of my work!
taglist: @geombyu @junityy @uygmoeb @sunghun @eternallyhyucks @pshjae @marknaeroni @feyregels @neos127 @koishua @echo-of-a-writer @w3bqrl @duolingofanaccount @goldenhypen @sungniverse @hittoki @acciomylove @soobin-chois @anik-4 @yjwfav @ja4hyvn @ddeonubaby @deafeningballoonnacho @squiishymeow @odxrilove @iyeonjuni @nyaforniki @kittyeji @pinkyyyujin @addictedtothesummernights @love-4-keum @luveill @enhastolemyheart @kpop-kitkat @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @str4b3rizz @solvgume @nishislcve (bold means i can’t mention you, if you want to be a part of my taglist fill this out!!)
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luvjunie · 11 months
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— trust who?
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pairing: e-42!miles x 1610!fem!reader
contains: angst, mentions of death, yandere?miles
summary: you were taken from him a year ago, and now it seems the universe has given him a chance to do things differently— and this time, he’s not letting you go. no matter what. wc: 1,648
a/n: i got a lil carried away w this one won’t lie, lol. i love this song, and i put a little twist on it to match the plot. song lyrics are in small, bold italics
🎧: Not You Too - drake (ft. chris brown)
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“trust- trust who? trust me and i can set you free. left your man came straight to me you the real mvp, my love.“
dimmed hues of red lights spotted your vision as you came to, eyelids heavy as they peeled apart to reveal the room you assumed would be the setting of your demise. your head snapped up when you finally regained consciousness completely, fright-riddled eyes darting around to scout out an escape plan. but just as you went to move, you heard chains clink from above as your body swayed, and realized you couldn’t. you looked down to find your legs bound by rope, as well as your hands, as well as the rest of your body to a firm, stuffed sack.
feet dangling from the ground, you let your head fall back against the punching bag, defeated, and settled for your only remaining option. “help!” you yelled, voice rasped and weak. “help!” you tried again.
“don’t bother, can’t hear a thing down here.”
an artificial, robotic voice sounded from above, warranting your eyes to meet a masked man who resided on a high beam, crouched in place, watching you. how long had he been there?
he jumped down, catching himself and effortlessly hanging from one arm before his sneakers met the steel floor. they were untied, you noticed.
fear permeated your entire being as he strolled over to you, a semblance of uneasiness coursing through your veins, pumping into your blood and rendering your spine straight as the ominous figure stopped just in front of you.
“ple—please, i don’t know why i’m here,” the words tumbled out in a broken heap of suffocated, stifled sobs as tears welled in your eyes.
“shh, it’s okay,” he shushed you, a hand reaching out to gently pinch your chin, lifting your head back up after it’d fallen. his touch was delicate, like he was scared he’d break you.
“i’m not gonna hurt you, mi vida. i’d never hurt you… you know that.” the voice distorter cut out, your breath catching in your throat and your eyes fluttering over every inch of this strange mask. it reminded you of a ventilation mask you’d seen in miles’ room once, a mask used to protect your lungs from the fumes of spray paint.
as if your mind were working against you, you found yourself… calmer than you were just a few seconds ago, and even more confused. why did the voice sound so familiar?
something wasn’t right.
“who— who are you?” you gulped.
“you don’t remember me?” the shield over his face pulled back, the quiet sound of mechanical whirring as it revealed his face drowned out by the heavy thrumming of your heart in your ear drums.
here stood your boyfriend in front of you, the same features, but… different. his entire demeanor had shifted since you had last seen him just prior to whatever time it was now, to something sinister. his hair was longer, pulled back and braided. an accent, almost resemblant of his mother’s lingered on the tip of his tongue, dripping within the words he spoke. his face was harder, etched and carved like the weight of the world had chipped at it piece by piece, only to settle on his shoulders, leaving him with no time for himself.
this couldn’t be right.
“miles?” you choked out, mouth gaping to find your voice. “w-why… what am I—you’re, you… but different? what is this? where am i?”
a puff of air shot through his nostrils, his best effort at a laugh as a small, smile lifted the corner of his lips, braids gliding over his shoulders when his head tilted to the side.
“you came back to me, mi amor. and god…you’re even more beautiful than i remembered.” he breathed, eyes flickering with sorrow for just a moment as they studied your face, a moment that was almost too brief for you to catch.
when he’d encountered you and his counterpart on the roof with his uncle, he swore his prayers had been answered. somehow, someway you’d been brought back to him— the pain of witnessing the bullet that pierced through your chest that fateful night just a year ago drifted from his mind, and replaced itself with the all consuming, peaceful, sleeping image of you the minute he’d picked you up and cradled you in his arms. it pained him to inject you with the needle to sedate you, but he had no other choice, he could never truly hurt you. no, he would never do that.
“i missed you so much.”
“first time in a long time hurtin' deeply inside”
the hand sporting his mechanical gauntlet lifted towards you, fingers bending so the claws wouldn’t scrape your skin as he let the cold metal brush against the swell of your cheek. the sound of the steel joints ticking made you flinch, chest stuttering for breaths you couldn’t keep within your overworked lungs as you turned away from him.
you looked at him with so much fear in your eyes, when all he’s ever wanted to do was keep you safe, to protect you, to make you feel comforted and secure. and he failed at that before, he knows that, but he’s ready this time. he’d been given a second chance, and he’d be damned if he let you slip through his fingers again.
“it’s me, hermosa… it’s okay, you know me. just trust me, and i can set you free, and then we can be together. just like old times.” his brows furrowed, his tone one of sincerity as he assured you, but it did nothing for your racing heart.
“trust—“ you sputtered, voice wavering when you spoke. “trust who? you? how can i when you have me tied up like this?!” you balked, your bewilderment such a stark contrast from his bleak, seemingly unmoving disposition.
“yeah… i’m real sorry ‘bout that. uncle aaron made me, so i tried not to make ‘em too tight. you know something like this would never, ever be my idea.”
you shook your head, was this some kind of sick joke? why wasn’t he understanding a single word that was coming from your mouth?
you grew frustrated, time was not on your side, and honestly you were getting tired of this game.
“i don’t know anything about you, i don’t even know who you are. you might have his face, and—and his body,” you looked him up and down. “but you… you are not my miles.”
he felt a pang in his chest, the words you uttered, the way you said ‘my miles’, as if he wasn’t right here, as if he wasn’t right in front of you. the version of himself he’d buried in the ground with you just last year wanted to jump out and yell at you, plead with you, anything to make you see he could be just like your miles, because he was your miles.
“oh,” he pulled the skin of his cheek between his teeth as he turned away with an agitated nod, extending his arm out to point towards your miles, who was still unconscious, chin dropped to his chest as he hung from another punching bag.
“him?” his voice raised in volume and broke apart with desperation, a humorless chuckle unintentionally escaping his trembling lips. “what’s the difference? huh? tell me.” he demanded, nostrils flaring as he tried to maintain his composure, staring deep into the eyes of the girl who would’ve burned the whole world down with him if he asked. the girl who was in his grasp, right in this moment, yet still so far from his reach— reserved for the one who had everything that belonged to him.
your head whipped to where he pointed, and the moment your eyes landed on your boyfriend your blood ran cold, a pained gasp rippling your chest. “miles! oh god, please!” you called out for him as you struggled against your restraints, his counterpart interrupting you by blocking your line of your view with his body.
“cálmate,” he hummed, “he’s fine, just unconscious. i’m not cruel. is that how you remember me, mamí?” he questioned, voice bleeding with hurt.
your gaze drifted over to your miles again, hope swelling within you when you heard him groan.
“no, no, princesa. don’t look at him, look at me.” he urged.
he didn’t understand. you always used to say you would love him in every universe, that you’d find him in every lifetime, what happened to that?
“please, we need to get home, if we don’t… he won’t be able to save his father, he—he’ll die. you have to understand.” you pleaded, the tears finally bubbling over your waterline, streamlining down your cheeks.
“you are home! it’s me, mi amor, i’m right here. what about everything we went through?” he asked tenderly, voice full of hurt and eyes still soaking in the slight difference in your features. he was too distracted by the fact that the girl he thought he’d never see again, was right here in front of him to even try and comprehend what you were trying to say. “please, don’t cry. you know i hate seeing you cry.”
nothing else seemed to be working, so you settled for empathizing with him. he was still miles, after all, different universe or not, he was still the same person deep down. and from the way he was looking at you, love flowing from the eyes that held so much anguish within them, you knew some version of you had loved him, too. in the same way you loved your own.
“look, i’m sure i-“ you stopped to correct yourself, “she, loved you, but i’m not her. i’m not from here, and i’m sorry she’s gone, and i’m sorry you have to live with this pain, but, please… you have to let me go.” your tone was forbearing, words teetering off into a hushed plea, your lingering apprehension threatening to tear through the seam of your heartfelt spiel.
“let you go?”
you nodded tentatively.
he moved closer to you, to unbound you from this elevated prison, you assumed. because maybe, just maybe you’d managed to get through to him.
but this wasn’t your universe, and this… this was not your miles.
for the first time in your entirety of knowing miles morales, you felt your heart stop— and not in the way that brought a flurry of warmed, passioned butterflies to flutter within you— but in a way that invited his words to settle like ice in your bones, allowed panic and dread to inhabit your senses, clutching you in a selfish grasp of resentment that had no intentions of letting you go— you realized, as this time, his gloveless hand swiped away yet another tear you hadn’t even noticed you’d shed.
“why would i do that?”
“I've given you enough time. hurtin' deeply inside.“
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- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms!
likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗
©luvjunie 2023
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sayoneee · 4 months
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☆ CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT
“i want to wear his initial on a chain 'round my neck, not because he owns me, but because he really knows me” - taylor swift (1.6k)
contains: luke castellan x daughter of ares! reader. secret relationship: the three times u guys were almost caught and the one time u were. pre-tlt.
kashaf’s note: working on requests as well so dw!! again. i just like this 1 lyric from this song <;/3
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1. 
MORNINGS AT CAMP half-blood were both weird and normal — at a summer camp for kids with godlike abilities, you’d think that maybe they’d be cut some slack from all the monsters they’ve had to evade and maybe be allowed to sleep in some days, but no, life at camp half-blood was a regular survival of the fittest regime. 
or: eat, or be eaten, as you liked to remind your cabin. 
maybe that was why you were notorious among ares cabin, but to the rest of camp half-blood you simply embodied an other-worldly discipline, more of a tactician than anything, when compared to the rest of your half-siblings.  
“hey,” clarisse says in an undertone, nudging you as you take your designated seat beside her, “where were you last night?” 
your hand stilled as you picked up your goblet, shrugging your shoulders as the once-boisterous table came to a stand-still, eager to discover their shrewd head counselor’s indiscretions, hoping for something to loosen your high esteem for them: everyone remembered the time the entire cabin was put on cleaning detail for an entire month to repent for the mistakes of one.
your penchant for collective punishment wasn’t at all well-received among your half-siblings, but well, no one had really challenged you on your position yet, so.
“in bed,” you said, slowly, taking a sip, “why?”
clarisse shrugged, spearing a carrot from your plate, masking her annoyance with you — out of all of your half-siblings, camp half-blood, even, no one could boast of a relationship as close as yours and clarisse’s, yet no one could be more opposite. clarisse was chaotic, you were contained; clarisse was ruthless, you were just.
“i dunno, i just saw two people on the roof of hermes cabin.”
“and?” you drawled, ignoring the blood rushing in your ears, as the rest of your cabin looked on gleefully.
“one of them was castellan,” clarisse paused, searching your face for a reaction — you were grateful for all the nights spent in hermes cabin, because if not for the stolls persuading you to play poker with them almost every time, your expression would’ve never survived under clarisse’s scrutiny.
“the other one,” clarisse pauses as if thoughtful for once, then pointedly stares, pointing her fork at you, “looked like you.”
the other cabins are also looking in your direction as the dining pavilion is so quiet that you can hear a pin drop, before the table finally registers clarisse’s words, resulting in so much whooping and jeering, you’d think ares cabin won the lottery.
you snag a bite of clarisse’s pancakes, each word punctuated by a bite, “what would i be doing with castellan?” you pause, feeling the table pause with you. wrinkling your nose, you continued, “i swear, next you’re gonna say you saw us making out during capture the flag.”
you grinned as the table erupted into laughter once more, this time by your design. while everyone else went back to their original conversations, you’re summoning the memories of last night.
how luke had wrapped his arm around your shoulders and attempted to woo you with myths about the stars, how you had laughed and called him corny. how the moonlight had illuminated his face in the moment, when he laughed back, drawing you in closer, with his usual snarky response of, “you love it though.”
clarisse snapped her fingers in front of your face, bringing you out of your reverie. she frowned, whispering, “you’d tell me though, if that was you, right?”
“yeah,” you nodded, trying not to feel guilty about lying — clarisse deserved the truth. but it went against your agreement with luke. you tried not to think about how you’re essentially picking a boy over your sister.
2.
like all things camp half-blood, if not careful, could result in death — like capture the flag, but did that stop you, or anyone else for that matter, in taking it upon yourself to make winning a matter of life or death. 
this week, you orchestrated an alliance with hermes cabin, because of their numbers and ability to launch unforeseen tactics, and hephaestus cabin, for their resourcefulness. it also didn’t hurt that the head counselors were your boyfriend and his friend, respectively.
you’re standing by zeus’ fist, discussing strategy with luke and charlie, while your respective cabins go off doing whatever it is to prepare, when luke’s sloppily-tied breastplate catches your attention. 
before you’re fully aware of what you’re doing, you’ve already reached forward to grab it, while charlie stares at you like you’ve been cursed by athena and turned into medusa. 
“so,” charlie says, slowly, “anything you guys wanna tell me?” 
luke is silent, watching you work, while you’re too busy focused on fixing the breastplate to notice the knowing expression on charlie’s face, one you would’ve been irritated by if you had.
“nothing,” you say, nonchalantly, whirling back around to face charlie when you’re finished, while luke gets swarmed by the stolls, “these things just bother me.”
“in general, or luke specifically?” charlie grins, that annoying, all-knowing look is back, and although reluctantly, you can see what it is about him that has silena beauregard so hung over. 
“in general,” you say as if it were obvious, as if you’re trying to convince a child that storks are the ones to deliver babies, and no, you’re not lying, (both statements hold the same level of ridiculousness), “it’s the adhd — makes it distracting.”
“uh huh,” he says skeptically, “i’ll take your word for it.”
you resist the urge to shake him and question him more, but before you can toughen up and just ask, “what do you mean?” he’s already turned away, and capture the flag is about to begin. 
3.
“what’s that?” annabeth points at the tiny “L” on your necklace as it swings to and fro, finally set loose from the captivity of your neon orange camp half-blood tee, hidden under your armor.
“what?” you glance down, dropping the sword in your hand to hastily tuck it away, all the while cursing both yourself and luke for being stupidly sentimental. (it was his idea after all, though, you’re not sure how or where he got the necklace from, but you didn’t really care if it was stolen — you wouldn’t put it past him, especially since he was a son of hermes.)
“was that for luke? are you dating him?” annabeth persists, eyes widening with question after question — nothing can satiate the curiosity of athena kids, especially not annabeth, not when luke castellan, her brother, is in the equation.
“no,” you say, trying to catch your breath from the sword technique you had just shown her, and the gaggle of younger campers who have now caught on, looking at you eagerly.
“no to what? no to the initial on your necklace being for luke, or no to you dating him?” another camper chimes in with a bright grin, probably a child of apollo, and you’re so close to shooting yourself on the spot.
“no to all of the above,” you grit out, really regretting being nice for one of the few times in your life, because no one had asked you, in particular, to demonstrate sword-fighting to these kids, luke could’ve done it, but where your boyfriend was concerned, you were too.
“then, how come you have an “L” necklace?” annabeth asks again.
“it’s my mom’s,” you lie, “i’m a year-rounder, so it reminds me of her — before all this,” you waved in the general direction of camp half-blood.
the campers ohh’ed in unison, but you knew annabeth wasn’t convinced.
you sighed, it could’ve been worse.
+4.
you’re not sure when or where the whispers that your boyfriend had returned originated, but after what seemed like eons of not seeing him, you couldn’t find it in yourself to verify the rumors before dropping your sword in the middle of training and sprinting toward half-blood hill to see him for yourself.
you ignore the calls of your name from your half-siblings, as you were kind of in the middle of demonstrating a technique, instead choosing to focus on more important things, like if your boyfriend was even alive.
when you finally do make it to half-blood hill, and catch sight of your boyfriend, with chris and charlie in tow, you don’t stop sprinting, uncaring for all of the whispers from the other campers as they look on. 
when you finally do come in contact with luke, you nearly tackle him into the ground, as he drops his backpack behind the two of you, arms coming to wrap around you to secure you, as you mumbled, “i missed you, asshole,” into the crook of his neck.
luke laughed, the sound reverberating against your skin, and you get off him, taking a step back. he starts to say something, “i —” but is cut off by you grabbing his wrist, and tugging him over your shoulder, his back slamming into the dirt ground. distantly, you can hear the rest of campers gasp, before buzzing with excitement. ignoring them all, you put your knee on his chest, bringing your forearm under his neck. 
“i swear to everyone, if you disappear like that again—” you begin, as luke cuts you off.
“i won’t,” he promises, grinning as you pull him up. luke slings an arm around your shoulder, and you finally notice the jagged scar running down his cheek. 
he catches your gaze and stares at the ground instead, avoiding you.
“you look kinda hot now with the scar,” you settle for, you know you’ll get the chance to properly speak about it later, but for now, this’ll have to do. 
a light pink dusts his cheeks, and luke, looking up at the campers gathered behind chiron, then glances back at you, smirking, “looks like you gave them quite a show.”
you glared at him, shoving him, “i’m going to kill you.”
luke shrugged, wrapping the arm around you tighter, “the damage’s done, now i’ll finally be able to hang out with my girl in peace.” 
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© sayoneee on tumblr. do not repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any of my works as your own.
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elllisaaa · 5 months
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no nut november - bangchan (4th to lose)
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-> pairing : chan x fem!reader
-> words count : 3,1k
-> genre : smut, friends/sex friends to lovers
-> warnings : switch!chan, begging, teasing, dirty talk, praising, unprotected sex, hair pulling, handbjod, manhandling, creampie, use of 'slut', a tiny little bit of angst because chan is overthinking + the way i'm depicting bangchan does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction
-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni
-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.
-> masterlist | skz masterlist | no nut november
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November 18th, 10 pm, and all Chan was thinking about was you. Nonetheless, he should focus on what was going on behind his eyes, on his screen. But his mind was clearly not at it since this morning. He tried to work on his new song, on the lyrics, on the beat, on everything he could but nothing seemed to help. 
Chan leaned into his desk chair, sighing and closing his eyes in an attempt to stop his thoughts from running. Without needing to concentrate this time, you immediately appeared to him. At first, it was just your beautiful smile when you were talking about the things you loved, or the way you had to sit on chairs, crossing your legs and making you look so tiny Chan wanted to protect you from the world. But then, it was like someone corrupted him. He could easily picture your blissed out face when you came around his fingers or cock, even more easily picturing your hands stroking his dick. 
Chan sighed again, but that didn’t help him with his little problem. What would’ve helped him was if you were there with him. He saw his phone from the corner of his eyes, peacefully resting on his desk, and he hesitated for several minutes. What should he do ? Call you and lose ? Or just resist ? 
Your relationship was pretty unusual, to say the least. Since the first time you saw each other, you clicked immediately. You were caring and calm, but once you started talking about something you loved, you were the most passionate person he knew. He loved it because you were always able to relax him just with your presence and voice, but he also loved the fact that you could be as energetic as him at other times. 
But besides that, you were also someone who knew what she wanted. And you made it clear to him really quickly that he was what you wanted. And who was Chan to refuse such a proposal ? Obviously, he didn’t. But the more time passed, the more his feelings grew. And worst of all, he couldn’t stop it. Because you also made it clear that you didn’t want something serious, just being friends with benefits was fine, right ? 
It was until Chan messed it all up with his feelings. But before his brain could even register it, he had grabbed his phone and called you already. Must do that quickly so he would not have the time to regret what he had done. 
“- Long time no see Channie !”
The said Channie closed his eyes, feeling his heart skipping a beat hearing your voice. He stayed away from you since the start of this stupid bet, he didn’t realize until now how much he missed you, all of you. 
“- Yeah… Sorry, I know I’ve been distant but…
- Don’t worry ! Binnie told me about it, I have no problem with that. And it’s kinda flattering.
- Flattering ?
- Yeah… It’s like you admitting you can’t control yourself when you see me, isn’t that right ?”
He gulped at your words. You were sadly not that far from truth, except the fact that it wasn’t only your body, but your all self that was tempting him, from the way you were clenching around him when you were about to come to your beautiful smile. Everything about you was a temptation to him, but he couldn’t admit it to you, nor was he able to stop all of that before hurting both of you.
“- You saw right through me again…
- I know you very well, I must admit. 
- So you surely know why I call you ?
- Of course. I’m on my way.”
He could hear your smirk as you talked, and before he even had the chance to answer, you hung up. But you weren’t the type to lie, Chan knew you were gonna knock on his door in a matter of minutes, and he didn’t want to figure out why he felt a heavy weight on his heart.
________________
“- Missed this…”
Your lips trailed along his neck, licking and sucking on it, and Chan tilted his head to the side to grant you more access to his skin. His hands were gripping your thighs firmly, preventing you from moving away from him. Once you put one foot in his room, you didn’t let him think twice before pushing him back into his chair, straddling him and kissing him like you hadn’t tasted him in years. 
“- Missed you Chan…”
His heart melted hearing your sweet voice saying you missed him. And God knows how much he missed you. So much. But he had to be realistic : you didn’t really miss him, you just missed his lips on yours, his hands on you, his dick in you. The facts were there, though. But Chan just decided to push it back and simply enjoy your lips on his and feeling your skin under his fingertips. 
“- I missed you too…”
Your little smile made you look so hot, so hot he wanted to pin you down on his bed and ruin you. But he was weak, you made him weak. So weak you just needed to move slightly against him to get him to moan. And your smile widened at the sound, loving to actually hear the effect you had on him. You closed your eyes, starting to grind on him at the same time. Chan’s hands flew to your hips, pushing you down against his hard cock. You whined quietly, gripping on his shoulders for support. 
“- What do you want me to do baby ? Just tell me.”
Your eyes were only focused on him, nothing else, and Chan felt overwhelmed. He wanted you to kiss him, to lick his body, to let him fuck you. He wanted you to do what you wanted, all of it, just because what he really wanted was to please you. 
“- Whatever you want. I just need you.
- That’s why I’m here. My hands ?”
Chan nobbed and you pecked his lips one more time before backing off a little, allowing you more space to touch him. He saw you licking your lips while pulling off his shorts and boxer just enough to free his hard cock, and it was hot as hell. He should have been ashamed by the fact he was already leaking precum, but your hungry look threw away his last piece of dignity, leaving him entirely at your mercy.
“- You weren’t joking when you said you missed me, hm ?”
Once again, Chan should've felt ashamed, but you both knew you were right. The feeling of his own hands on him wasn’t quite the half of what he was feeling when it was your hands. Your lustful gaze was focused only on his throbbing dick, your teeth biting into the flesh of your plush bottom lip as you watched him chasing your touch. That was making it very difficult for him not to blow right away.
“- Feels good Channie ?
- Yeah… Keep going, please.”
You chuckled lightly at his pleading. He should have known how crazy he was driving you just by existing, not to mention the effect he had on you every time he turned into a stuttering mess under your hands, and it was even worse every time he decided to take control - and you let him do that happily every time. He should have known that he didn’t need to beg for it, that you were eager to please him whenever he liked. 
You pushed your thumb against his flushed cockhead, making him gasp and whine under your touch, before spreading his precum along his now fully hard dick. Your wrist was moving way faster now, your fingers tightening around him. Chan closed his eyes shut, feeling his orgasm approaching too fast. He wanted to enjoy your touch some more, wanted you to look at him the way you did right now all the time - as if he was the only thing in your world. But he needed his sweet relief, he needed to finally let go of the tension and frustration of these past days. 
“- Just a little more… Please…”
You almost moaned, only hearing his low voice begging you was enough for you to surrender and give him what he wanted. You quickened your pace one more time, leaning down to kiss him. And that was all he needed to completely let go, moaning in your mouth as he came hard, his vision becoming blurry and his head starting to spin.
Chan stayed still for a moment, trying to come down off his high. And when he finally opened his eyes again, it was to see you licking your fingers clean. That made something switch in him. You’d notice by the way his eyes darkened, the way his jaw clenched hard, the way his fingers dug into the skin of your hips. 
Without saying a word, he stood up, placing his hands under your thighs to prevent you from falling. You were about to put your hands around his neck but he threw you on his bed, a whine leaving your throat when your back hitted the mattress. That. That was what you loved so much about Chan - he could be putty in your hands and the next second manhandling you like you weighed nothing. 
You admired him as he tossed his clothes away, letting your eyes wander on his tough shoulders, his toned abs, his muscular thighs. You found yourself speechless every time you saw him naked. How could he not see how handsome he was ? You pressed your thighs together trying to suppress your growing desire as he hovered over you on the bed. In no time, he settled between your legs that you spread for him as soon as you felt his knee pushing against them, earning a growl of approval from him. 
“- Take off your clothes.”
You didn’t think twice before doing it. You didn’t think at all in fact. His hungry gaze was burning you, so much you thought you’d explode if he didn’t touch you. Thankfully, he unfastened your belt, sliding your jeans and underwear down your thighs as you threw away your shirt and bra, ending up naked underneath his starved look. He immediately brought his hand to your core, pushing his thumb against your clit, making you whimper. 
“- So wet already… Want me that much baby ?
- Yeah… Please Chan…”
He took your chin between two of his fingers, forcing you to look at him while he sucked off his thumb covered in your slit. And that was enough to make you whine, not only because he was so hot you wanted to bounce on his dick for hours, but also because you knew how much he loved every noise coming out of your mouth.
“- You’re really not going to stop teasing, hum ?”
Your smirk was telling it all, and Chan had enough of you and your filthy mouth. He just wanted to hear you cry and scream only his name, wanted to feel like he was the one made for you. 
“- On all fours baby, and hang on tight.”
You gulped and just obeyed, as if your ability to speak had been removed from you. You settled yourself, and as soon as you stopped moving, he thrusted into you so roughly you would’ve crashed into the headboard if you weren’t gripping on it tightly. The sound you were letting out were animalistic, but you weren’t able to care anymore, not when Chan was pounding into you so hard you think you’ll split in two. But the worst was that you liked it so much, feeling like he could make you come with each thrust of his dick in you, even if he didn’t take the time to stretch you out, it was even more delicious.
“- C-Chan…”
You were interrupted by a loud moan when the man behind you buried himself even deeper inside of you, hitting all the right places at once. You tried to talk again, tell him that you needed more, but your words were coming out as an incoherent mumbling. 
“- So dumb everytime I put my dick in you, aren’t you ? Just need me to fill up your tight cunt…”
You nobbed eagerly, unable to do something else than crying out his name. And that was driving him crazy, his chest filling up with pride knowing he was the only one to please you like that, to fuck you like that. One of his hands slid from your hips, all along your spine, spreading shivers on your skin, only to end up in your hair, grabbing a fistfull of them and forcing you to arch your back even more, allowing him to sink even deeper into you. You were probably drooling, but you didn’t gave a fuck, simply moaning when Chan pulled your hair.
“- Look at you baby… Can’t even talk anymore…”
He tugged your hair harder, the nails of his other hand digging in the skin of your hips from how roughly he was guiding you on his cock. 
“- Maybe I should shut you up like this more often, what do you think ?”
You wanted to say something, wanting to let him know he could use you whenever he wanted to and that you would absolutely adore it.
“- Would you like me to fuck you every time you talk back ?”
And like every other time, he knew what you wanted, saying all the things you needed to hear, doing all the things you needed him to do. 
“- Please… P-Please Chan… I-I need to-”
Another thrust shut you down, reducing you to a mumbling mess. You felt tears pool under your eyelids as the pleasure hit you harder and harder with each thrust, tightening the coil in your stomach. 
“- Use your words, slut.”
The nickname paired to the moan he left out when he felt you clench around his shaft made you feel dizzy, made you feel like you were on the edge of your orgasm.
“- N-Need to cum… S-Shit !”
Chan let go of your hair, your head falling back into the pillow, guiding his fingers directly on your clit, circling it harshly and sending you over the edge in less than a minute. Your moans were so loud you almost felt sorry for his neighbors. Almost because you couldn’t bring yourself to care when you were feeling so much pleasure you could’ve faint. 
Your arms were numb, and your legs were shaking so much you would’ve passed out from the intensity of your orgasm if Chan wasn’t holding you. But his sloppy trusts were keeping you awake, aware of every move he was making, of every noise coming out of his mouth. 
“- Fuck ! You’re so tight… Can I cum inside ?”
You couldn't help your smile, loving the fact that he kept asking you the same question, even though you both knew your answer would always be the same. 
“- Yes, please…”
Chan moaned, and you could easily picture him throwing his head back, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he came, face contorted by the pleasure he was feeling as his orgasm washed over him. You felt his hot cum being spilled out of your pussy as Chan slowed the pace of his thrusts until he stopped totally. You needed a long time to find your breath again, feeling the desire to sleep creeping on you quickly. 
You didn’t react when Chan pulled out of you and helped you get on your back to clean you up. You hummed happily, feeling his touch as light as a feather on your thighs and whole body. You only came back to reality when he stroked your cheek, finding him smiling at you brightly. 
“- Can I stay tonight ?”
You didn’t think about it, it just came out naturally, like it was where you should have been for a long time. It was strange to realize how much you wanted to sleep in his arms just now. But what felt even more right was his honest answer when he immediately said yes. You settled yourself comfortably in his arms, enjoying being engulfed by his warmth and scent. 
“- Thank you for coming…”
You chuckled lightly against his chest, remaining playing with the hair at the back of his head.
“- You don’t need to thank me for that Channie, I’ll always be there for you no matter what happens.”
Chan stayed silent for a long time. He felt like it was the right time, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that maybe he will scare you and ruin his chances to be with you one way or another. Maybe you will run away. Maybe you will tell him you just wanted him as a friend, just wanted him for sex. But he knew he could not keep up with this situation much longer. 
“- I really did miss you… And not just only for… That… Think I might be starting to really like you.”
You said it almost in one breath, not wanting to lose your courage at the last second. You were aware that chances of him liking you back were very low, and you were aware it was you who had established the rules between you. But you also knew that you liked him much more than a friend or a fuck buddy. You liked all his little habits, even the ones he said were the most annoyings, you liked being the only one staying so late in his studio and getting to cuddle him even if he was busy as hell. You liked his smile, his tendency to always care for you, his ability of remembering all of these little details you even forgot telling him about. 
“- Might take you on a date then… I want to do things right this time.”
You finally lifted your head up, meeting his nervous but shining eyes. You could feel his heart beating way faster under the palm that was still placed on his chest. 
“- You did everything you could right. It’s me. I set up boundaries just to cross them out a few months later… And I was stupid to do that just because I was afraid of my feelings. I would love to go out with you.”
Chan kissed your forehead, and you sighed in relief. You didn’t realize until now how much you were craving this tenderness from him, and you couldn’t wait to finally be his official girlfriend to benefit from it every day, and so did Chan. You were all he could have ever dreamt of, and now you were in his arms. And he knew, for the first time of his life, that everything would be alright : with you by his side, he could only be alright.
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-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my works.
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taglist : @bangchans-angel @its-hannjisung @3rachasninja @boi-bi-ahaha @supergoodjudgepsychic @jaiuneamesolitaiire @starsandrqindrops @anonymousreader55 @iwannabangchan69 @b3tOxic @fawnpeaks @lxrii @channiesgoodgirl @imsotiredandalsonineteen @bbchangbinnie24 @chrishak @cscsi @minskzy @hyunlixs-wife0309 @stayconnecteed @miserya99 @puppy-minnie @kaitchan @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @linosssss @channiesbedbug @whosanaanyway @coastalmaine (if your pseudo is crossed out, it's because i can't tag you and you'll have to change your settings).
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skbeaumont · 14 days
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"You Should Probably Leave" | Joel x Reader oneshot
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Part 1 of Play it Again, a new series where each story is a oneshot, but all are shaped around country songs.
Song: You Should Probably Leave – Chris Stapleton Summary: He works long days. You help out with Sarah, make her dinner, put her to bed when he has to stay late. And then when he gets home you help him out, too, even though you both know you should probably leave. Tags/Warnings: MDNI, 18+, smut, porn without plot, prose but kind of poetry/lyrical, sexual tension, PIV, oral (m! receiving), sub!Joel, you're Sarah's babysitter, AU! No outbreak, set in the 90s. Word Count: 1.4k
A/N: I've taken the lyrics and worked them into the story, so I'd really recommend listening as you read. I've been thinking about writing this series for sooo long because country songs + Joel is a match made in heaven. If you've got any song recommendations, let me know!
It’s like a dance, a well-worn routine that you both know, practised and perfected after months of repetitions. You both know where it leads but you’ll still follow all the steps. That’s how it is.
You put Sarah to bed ages ago, spent the last few hours of babysitting on the sofa finishing up some college work, waiting for Joel to get back. His key in the door is a familiar click, the latch sticking the way it always does, his shoulder forcing it open.
You stay where you are. When he comes into the lounge his toolbelt is still strapped around his waist, the remnants of a long day’s work painted across his handsome face and strewn in dust that’s collected on the knees of his well-worn jeans and callused hands.
He pauses in the entrance, arm stretched up above him to rest on the mantle of the door, t-shirt pulling up to reveal a strip of tanned skin above his belt. There’s a glass of wine half-drunk on the coffee table beside you and your feet are tucked up under you.
Neither of you speak for several long moments. You just watch each other, the tension too delicious to break.
“You should probably leave,” He says, but you make no effort to move and he stays where he is, too, dark eyes watching you.
His expression is open, taunting, and you already know what’s going to happen. You untuck your feet and shift them onto the worn carpet, standing to step towards him. His form takes up most of the doorway, his shoulders so broad that they almost touch both sides of the frame.
When you reach it he’s looming over you, blocking the exit off from you if you wanted to leave, but you don’t. You turn into him, press your nose to the slice of skin between his shoulder and neck and inhale deeply, smell the work of his day on him: the musk of sweat, the tang of iron and sharpness of wood shavings.
“I suppose it ain’t all that late,” he says, voice rumbling through his chest, “still time for you to finish your wine.”
You won’t finish the wine, but it’s all part of the well-worn routine the two of you have. He works long days. You help out with Sarah, make her dinner, put her to bed when he has to stay late.
And then when he gets home you help him out, too. Let him relieve some of the tension that he carries in his shoulders, on his thick-set jaw. You press the first kiss here, letting the rough caress of his stubble eat into your own cheek. When you let your hands course through his hair, scratching your nails into his scalp, he leans into it, eyebrows pitching up, something like a whimper falling from his lips.
There’s a devil on your shoulders, and its urging you each towards the same predetermined end.
“We shouldn’t.” He says, but he doesn’t move away.
“Just one kiss?” You ask, feeling him relax into your touch, the bulk of him slipping down the doorframe, bringing his mouth within reach of yours.
“Alright,” He rasps back, his voice pitching with need, and you claim the last syllable with your mouth, press your lips against his, pull a moan from somewhere deep in his chest.
“Say you want me to stay,” You tell him, and he does, whispers it into your mouth, chases your tongue with his.
When he looks at you his gaze so intense it’s almost intimidating, and you recognise the look in his eyes, the need that’s behind the blown-out pupils and hazy expression.
The slow retreat to his bedroom is well-practised, the carpet belying a well-trodden route you both know. He lets you walk him backwards up the stairs, sighs when you push him against the closed door to fit your mouths together again.
Inside, his bed is unmade and you press him into it, pin his hands above his head and lick a thick strip up his neck, following the tendons to the underside of his jaw.
His moans are the chorus of this well-rehearsed dance. They spur you on as you undress him, revealing the strong lines of his chest, the thick trunks of his thighs, the impressive bulge of his cock in his briefs, already half-hard.
He twitches in your hand when you draw him out and you shift down the bed to take him into your mouth, the head of him heavy and salty on your tongue. His cock swells, the vein that spans the underside pulsing against your palm.
It’s intoxicating and dizzying and familiar, the recognisable ache in your jaw as you take him into the back of your throat, fist gripping the part of him that won’t fit.
“So good to me, darlin’” He groans, running shaking fingers through your hair, trying to sit up against the headboard.
“Relax,” you tell him, pushing him back down to lie against the rumpled duvet, “I know what you need.”
You know him and he knows you, and you both know how this goes. You pull back, work your dress up over your head and pull down your panties, which are ruined with your slick, so damp they catch on your thighs as you peel them off. Joel’s eyes widen as he watches; he can never believe you want this – want him – as much as you do.
When you sink down on his length – the fat head of his cock catching at your entrance, making the stretch delicious and white-hot – he squeezes his eyes shut tight.
You run a finger along his eyebrows, coax him to open them and he does, a muscle in his jaw fluttering as you rise up and drag your cunt back down onto him again.
“I wanna do the right thing, baby,” he tells you, as though this – the pinching heat of him between your thighs, the tremble of his hands as he clutches at the flesh of your ass – isn’t the greatest thing that’s ever happened to either of you.
But you know he hates himself for it, hates that he’s a good decade older than you, that you’re Sarah’s babysitter, that this – this twisted arrangement you have where you stay when he gets back and then end up in his bed – is the only thing that gets him through those long works days sometimes.
“I know,” you say, “but it’s getting kind of hard to resist, isn’t it?”
“You should leave,” he says, thrusting up into you, “we should – Jesus, baby, just like that – we should stop.”
You arch up off the bed, tilting your hips so that he can drive his cock deeper, bottoming out and groaning brokenly into your ear. It’s filthy. Depraved, probably: The slap of his hips as he cants them up into yours, the breathy moans that tumble from your mouth, Joel’s desperate, needy curses.
It’s easy to make him come like this: Three steady, deliberate rolls of your hips and he’s a quivering mess beneath you, his hands fisting in the sheets as he spurts hot and wet inside you.
After, you tell him you should probably leave. He makes you come with his fingers first, tells you to finish your wine, that it still ain’t that late.
And when the sun’s on your skin at 6am, he’s there watching you sleep, hoping you’ll say you’ll stay, even though you should probably leave.
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