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#I've never heard better music in my life

inkskinned · 7 months

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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

#writeblr #warm up #this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru #but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist #ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school.#like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it.#was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes.#but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create''#when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work #part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just #like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent.#speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r #ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week #this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice.#''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism #imagine if we said that about literally any other profession.#''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt?#u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky''#we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY #''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''

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sage-nebula · 1 month

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"Suffer No Fools" - Shiver vs. Marina Analysis

It's been a few days since "Suffer No Fools" released, but I wanted to go ahead and release my analysis of Shiver's and Marina's verse since that's the one that has caused the most discussion within the fandom. I've seen a lot of debate over Marina's section in particular, with people unsure whether she was being sincere or sarcastic, and I think the actual answer is a little more complicated than one or the other, at least with regards to the first couplet of lines both she and Shiver sing. Of course, people are free to interpret this song however they wish, but after seeing numerous interpretations I personally didn't vibe with, I just wanted to put my own out there, breaking it down line by line.

So! Here we go.

Exchange 1:

Shiver: "Your haunting voice -- there's no escape. How nice it must be for your fans." Marina: "You're far too kind! I love your vibe. I can learn so much from your style."

Analyzing from dialogue only:

Shiver is insulting Marina's voice by calling it haunting and saying there is no escape, insinuating she wishes there was one. She says how nice it must be for Marina's fans, again implying that she isn't one.

Marina says that she loves Shiver's vibe, which on the surface could be a compliment, but given the context (a music battle) it could also be a Mean Girl "ooh I love your [thing] :)" passive-aggressive drawing-attention-to-something-ugly insult. More direct though, is the "I can learn so much from your style"; you can learn what not to do from someone just as much as you can learn what to do from someone. Marina's engaging in plausible deniability here.

HOWEVER. Lyrics are NOT the only thing that need to be analyzed from this first verse, which is arguably the MOST important exchange between these two. Instead, we need to look at how these lines are delivered.

Shiver is singing in a traditional Japanese folk singing style, specifically a style based on Shima-uta, which her voice actress has a background singing in. Unfortunately, I don't know the actual term for this style of singing, only that it's not kakegoe, something Shiver also does that is different from this. Anyway, in these lines specifically Shiver is singing in her Shima-uta style, a style that she has presumably been practicing since she was a small child, a style that is probably culturally significant to the Hohojiro clan. Singing in this style is not something that just anyone can do. It's completely different from singing in a (for lack of a better word) "western" style. The way you breathe is completely different. The way you incorporate your voice into your breathing is completely different. So by singing in this style, which Shiver has been doing practically her whole life and which, presumably, only she of the four there can do, Shiver is FLEXING on Marina regardless of what lyrics she chooses to sing.

But then Marina, who grew up under the domes in Inkadia, who presumably has never heard Shima-uta before she started listening to Deep Cut and heard Shiver sing, who presumably has had absolutely no training whatsoever on this style of song . . . mimics it perfectly and flexes on Shiver right back.

Could Marina's words to Shiver be interpreted as passive-aggressive in turn? Yes. But does it matter? No, not really. Because in this first verse, Marina's ACTUAL comeback is to take the style of singing that Shiver has been perfecting her entire life and throw it right back in her face despite having never (as far as we or Shiver know) practiced it herself. Shiver was flexing by presumably doing something Marina couldn't do, only for Marina to do it flawlessly, being every bit as divine with a voice so fine as Pearl said she was previously. Marina says "I love your vibe" so she takes it. Marina says "I have so much to learn from you" but does she really, when she can already do exactly what Shiver can, and has, just now, right in front of her?

And Shiver noticed, hence:

Exchange 2:

Shiver: "You remind me of my neighbor's little daughter . . . What's that saying? 'Octo see, octo do.'" Marina: "Glad you approve -- your praise has left me moved. Thanks to your notes, I'll find my groove!"

Shiver drops the Shima-uta singing, because now there's no point. Marina can also sing in that style, so it's no longer a flex. Shiver lost ground on that one, so instead we're back to the same (again, for lack of a better word) "regular" style of singing that everyone else is using. For that reason, we can go back to analyzing purely based on the words alone.

Shiver is calling Marina a copycat, essentially, because Marina copied her Shima-uta singing style in the previous verse (hence why Shiver had to drop it, as previously noted). Marina then gives her "glad you approve -- your praise has left me moved" . . . basically noting that by Shiver accusing her of copying, Shiver is saying that Marina -- someone who just tried the singing style off the cuff right there on the stage for the first time -- was just as good as Shiver, someone who has trained in that style her whole life. The audience saw for themselves that Marina was able to emulate the style, but Shiver saying, "you copied me!" is basically admitting that Marina was just as good as her in Shiver's own eyes, and Shiver is a pro. That's Shiver's aggravation handing Marina the win and Marina smiling wide as she accepts it.

Exchange 3:

Shiver: "Oh, look at the time. Isn't it getting late?" Marina: "Not at all! I could go on like this all night long."

This one doesn't even really need an analysis. For all that she prides herself on being "so cool even sharks call her cold-blooded," Shiver is known for being easily irritated and riled when she's losing due to her competitive nature. Marina successfully got under her skin, and this is her trying to end the battle fast because she didn't have any further comebacks. Marina, meanwhile, gives the classic "I could go on all night" because she's not riled at all, and is instead perfectly comfortable in this environment, knows what she's doing, and has had the upper hand from the start.

It goes back to another post I made about Experience vs. Inexperience. Shiver and Frye are still new idols, whereas Pearl and Marina have been at this for a long while. And while off the stage Marina is a sweet, kind, gentle person who will go out of her way to help others, and can sometimes be a little spacey or naive, she's also a 23-year-old literal genius who has been in the music industry for years now and knows full well what a rap / music battle is and knows her way around a stage. Personally, I found it to be a little infantilizing to insinuate that she "didn't realize Shiver was insulting her," when not only do I think she knew full well, but also she was the one with the upper hand not because of sick burns (that's Pearl's department), but because of sheer innate musical talent.

But those are just my thoughts! Everyone else is free to have their own.

#splatoon #splatoon 3 #suffer no fools #off the hook #deep cut #shiver hohojiro #marina ida #keep in mind that Shiver is my favorite Deep Cut member please #i mean no disrespect to her in any of this #i really do just think it's her inexperience in the music industry etc #and Frye's as well #i think that in Splatoon 4 we'll see that Shiver and Frye have matured some & made some headway in their own careers #(and Big Man too ofc but tbh he's already there with the maturity imo)#(hence his collabing w/ Squid Sisters & non-hostility toward OtH)#then again maybe Deep Cut wants to stay indie. idk! we'll see

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anothertimdrakestan · 1 year

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Jealous Jason Todd Headcanon

~loooong requested hope you enjoy some brotherly competition~

- jason had no idea he wanted you until dick called "dibs" the first night he met jason's mysterious "friend" and newest bat-recruit

- at first, jason didn't care. like at all. but that never stopped him from being an asshole

- "my brother y/n really? what's there to like? i didn't see you as a musical theatre and dad-joke enjoyer" he'd scoff anytime dick tried to make a move

- that didn't stop richard fucking grayson.

- "hey! y/n! fancy seeing you here!" .. "it's the batcave dick i work here" .. "oh, well are you working all night? maybe we can grab some big belly burger after?" .. "we have patrol together you dork"

- honestly, it was endearing being adored, worshipped even. from handwritten poems, to a little mini batarang necklace, and all the weapons your heart could desire

- and for all his dork-tendencies, dick knew a thing or too about hand placement...

- "put me down richard" .. "you literally fell into my arms" .. "i would've landed on my feet" .. "sure princess, but aren't my arms a little better?" he'd tease, sweeping you bridal style out the back door of the gala you two had just rescued

- it was somewhere in between the gift giving, rooftop dates, and stolen glances that jason realized he might want -slightly, just a tiny bit- more.

- okay; he wanted you all to himself.

- but he's always been shit at explaining it

- where dick was obvious and flirtatious, jason started subtle: always inching closer to you, keeping a longing gaze set on your every move-even if it meant tripping himself up in battles- you noticed he would sooner get shot than let you catch a scrape

- and just like dick's coddling, it got annoying

- "jace i've been on the team for months, i think i can watch out for myself" .. "i know, i protect the people i care about" his response was almost a whisper, and before you could pry further, he disappeared, replaced with a familiar cheesy grin "hi y/n! wanna catch a movie tonight?" .. "uh, one sec dick! i need to check on jace"

- but jason was never anywhere to be found. every time he let you in, he disappeared just as quick.

- when you started toying with new weaponry jason was there, you still got butterflies remembering the way he pressed himself against you while fixing your form, his calloused fingertips lighting fires as he subtly adjusted your grip on your gun

- "jay is this right?" .. "mhm your grip is perfect, but the recoil will get you, slide your leg backwards to brace for the impact of firing" .. the minute his hand touched your thigh a shiver ran across your body, against your shaking will .. "oh, sorry i didn't mean to-" .. you cut him off "no it's good, you're good" but before you could turn around to unpack the cloud of tension in the room, jason cleared his throat and gruffly said "fire" ruining any chance of an emotional conversation. three perfect shots to the targets, and with a satisfying nod he was gone once again

- so when dick asked you out on a real date, to a restaurant whose menu alone gave you anxiety at the thought of ordering, you realized you had to give jason the ultimatum

- but for once in his (second) life, jason was way ahead of you.

- "you said yes to dick?" jason was sitting at your desk when you entered your own room, overly dramatic but it was jason todd after all.

- "do i have a reason to say no?"

- "you hate fancy restaurants. you need like a week to plan what you'll order otherwise you'll just be stressed the whole time"

- you rolled your eyes, but jason wasn't finished: "and you hate movies, sitting in one place watching a film you probably haven't heard of, pretending to enjoy the nuance"

- he wasn't wrong. "whatever jace, that doesn't-" .. "i can tell you what's gonna happen. he'll order a wine too sweet for your taste, and talk to the waiter enough to make you want to crawl under the table. then after a perfectly lovely dinner he'll take you to a rooftop to 'show you the sights' and you'll have your first kiss. but you hate the city skyline, it reminds you you're far from home. you like the sound of the ocean and the rusting of the forest. you like something real."

- your heart was in your throat. but you needed something more: "say it jason. don't tell me the future with dick. fucking say it."

- jason stood up, closing the distance between you, eyes now desperate and wild: "say what? that i've loved you since the minute i lost you? that i feel like ive known you forever? that i don't need to learn to love you like he does, i was built for it? that i feel like i was made for you? how do i put it in a few useless words"

- "you just did jay." you whispered, letting him lock his lips in yours with a smile.

- "please go break richard's fucking heart and come home to me." he grumbled, to which you agreed, letting dick down softly and promising to set him up with one of your friends in return for his kindness- a deal which he wouldn't let you forget

- years later, it was more of a household joke, dick claiming he was the catalyst to your and jason's lovestory. to which jason wholly despised, but you never minded giving dick a little credit

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sparkle-fiend · 1 year

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Eddie is six years old, the first time he hears the voice.

It wakes him with a jolt – sends him tearing through the house, searching under every bed and behind every door for the boy he hears calling his name.

Mama finally stops him. “Sweetheart, what did you lose this time?” (Eddie is always losing things.) She looks impatient, standing with a laundry basket balanced on one cocked hip, curly hair spilling out of the messy bun on top of her head.

“I heard somebody saying my name! I gotta find him, I think he’s hiding.”

Mama’s whole attitude changes, all at once. She sets the laundry aside and drops to her knees in front of him, squeezing his little hands between her own. “Oh baby. That voice means you’ve got a soulmate!”

She smiles bright as the suncatcher hanging in the window, and presses sloppy kisses all over his face until he screams with laughter, squirming to get away.

“My lucky, special boy!”

Eddie’s never been lucky before. It’s exciting.

———

In school, they learn all about soulmates. About how rare they are. Uncle Wayne is the only other person Eddie knows that has one.

When he found out about Uncle Wayne’s soulmate, Eddie was so excited – bubbling full of questions, like a bottle of fizzy pop. But whenever he tried to talk about it, his dad got real mad.

“You keep your mouth shut about soulmates,” he said. “Don’t talk about that shit in front of your uncle.”

It’s hard. Eddie starts staying over at Uncle Wayne’s trailer more and more when Mama gets sick. And Eddie’s never been good at following rules; especially when he’s curious about something.

“Uncle Wayne?” Eddie finally asks one day. “Where’s your soulmate? How come I’ve never seen her?” You have met her right? is what Eddie’s really asking. He can’t imagine waiting until he’s as old as Uncle Wayne to find his soulmate.

His uncle goes sort of brittle, tensing up like every joint is made of glass. His lips press together behind his beard, and his denim blue eyes go shiny and wet – like he’s trying not to cry.

If Eddie could take the question back, he would. Suck it right back into his mouth, like the smoke from his uncle’s cigarettes. This is why you gotta listen better baby – that’s what his Mama would probably say.

“My Lorretta died a few years ago. Before you were born.”

Eddie never considered that. In all the movies, soulmates die together. The thought of it leaves a queasy feeling squirming through his stomach.

“I still hear her though,” Uncle Wayne says, with a terribly soft look in his eyes. “Still hear her singing our song.”

“Like a memory?” Eddie whispers.

His uncle shakes his head. “Time don’t matter for soulmates – no more than distance. I can hear her still, across the years.”

Like a ghost, his uncle doesn’t say. A ghost that will haunt him forever. None of the dry textbooks in school ever mentioned that part.

It starts to worry Eddie. As he gets older, his soulmate’s voice starts to get clearer. He always hears the same thing – a desperate, grown-up voice screaming at him to “Run Eddie! RUN!!!”

It must be from the future. But his soulmate sounds so scared. What could possibly happen, to make his soulmate sound like that?

Eddie starts to listen to music more. Loud, heavy stuff to drown out the frightened voice.

Late at night, he curls up under the covers and softly sings his Mama’s favorite song – hoping that somewhere, somewhen, his soulmate will hear him.

That it might help, the way it helps Eddie when Mama sings him to sleep.

———

Eddie is twelve years old, the first time he really listens to the voice.

Mama's been dead two years, and his dad keeps pulling riskier and riskier jobs. Tonight, he's decided to try and break into the pawn shop on Fifth street.

Eddie is the lookout, stationed on the opposite corner with a pistol weighing heavy in the pocket of his coat (just in case, Ed).

He doesn't want to be here. He tried to argue with his dad. Said, "I've got a test tomorrow. I've got homework and..." and I hate this life. (He doesn't say that part.) I don't want to steal cars or break into buildings or mug people. I don't want to be like you.

His dad just gripped him by the arm hard enough to bruise, and said, "You like to eat, dont'cha? Well, lookouts get to eat. Lazy little shits don't."

So Eddie is standing on a street corner in the middle of the night, watching his dad furtively attempt to pick the lock on the front door of the pawn shop, when a cop car slows down at the end of the street.

Fear floods his bloodstream so fast it leaves him dizzy. The cop has clearly noticed something. Eddie can see the shadowed figure inside the car reach for his radio.

Eddie has two choices.

He could pull the pistol out of his pocket and fire a few shots down the street, forcing the cop to take cover long enough for his dad to get away (which is what his dad would expect him to do). Or he could...

"Run!"

The sudden loud voice, echoing between his ears and behind his eyes and inside his heart, startles him into flinching.

"Run Eddie, RUN!!!" His body obeys before his brain has a chance to process the words. He's halfway down the street when the siren shrieks to life.

Later, as he sits in the backseat of the social worker's car on the way to his Uncle Wayne, he can't quite believe he did it. He bailed on his dad - left him to get arrested and go to prison. This is Frank Munson's third strike; he'll go away for life this time.

I'm such a coward, Eddie thinks numbly. Such a chicken piece of shit. He digs his ragged nails into the soft flesh of his palms, squeezing hard enough to draw blood.

As if he'd spoken aloud, a soft voice responds, "You're not a coward. You're one of the bravest people I've ever known. Running isn't always a bad thing, okay? Sometimes it's just the smart thing to do."

His soulmate sounds so fierce, so certain. Eddie blinks hard against the hot burn of tears. The smart thing to do.

———

Eddie holds onto those words, like magic talismans. They provide comfort, not just in the immediate days after his dad's arrest, but other times too. Every time he runs away from a bully or a cop or a deal gone bad, Eddie thinks to himself - I'm not a coward. I'm just smart.

It works... until the night he stumbles out of his uncle's trailer, leaving Chrissy Cunningham's broken body on the living room floor. He's so terrified he doesn't have time to think, not until after he's ditched his van and taken shelter in Rick's boathouse. As he leans against the splintered wall and catches his breath, it hits him.

I left her there. What if she was still alive? (She wasn't. She couldn't have been. Not after... not after that.) He grabs fistfuls of hair and tugs until his scalp aches. Wracks his brain trying to figure out what happened, what he could have done to stop it.

He's never felt so ashamed before, not even when his dad was cursing and screaming and calling him a coward through the thick glass of the visitation window.

His soulmate's words whisper in his ears, "...sometimes it's just the smart thing to do," and Eddie pounds on his skull with his fists to drown the voice out. "Not this time," he snarls. I should have done something. I should have tried to save her.

He doesn’t feel smart this time. He feels like a cowardly piece of shit.

His soulmate’s voice falls silent.

Through all the craziness to follow – finding out that monsters are real, running for his life from an angry mob, fighting alongside Steve Harrington in an evil Upside Down version of Hawkins – Eddie doesn’t hear his soulmate again.

Not until he’s staring up at Dustin Henderson, realizing that he can’t run away again. As he hesitates at the bottom of the rope, Dustin calls out nervously, “Eddie, what are you doing?”

“I’m buying more time,” he says. He ignores Dustin’s screams as he cuts the rope and slides the mattress out of the way – making sure the kid can’t follow him.

And then he hears his soulmate say, “Wait, wait a second. Eddie?! Is that you?”

Eddie is twenty years old, the first time he recognizes his soulmates voice.

He pauses at the door of the trailer and squeezes his eyes shut tight. “Hey Stevie.”

“Holy shit, it’s you,” Steve whispers in awe.

It’s the first time they’ve been able to speak to each other like this, responding in real-time. Eddie wishes it could have happened in different circumstances.

“I’m so sorry Steve.”

“Eddie? What are you doing?” Steve sounds alarmed.

Eddie doesn’t answer. He slams his way out of the barricaded trailer and grabs one of the discarded bikes, hoping to lead the swarm of bats away as far as possible.

He makes it halfway across the trailer park before one of the bats knocks him off the bike. He grunts and rolls, gaining his feet quickly. Chest heaving, charged with adrenalin – Eddie hesitates. He could keep running… or he could stand his ground and fight.

Maybe Steve can hear the hitch in his breath in that moment, because the other boy seems to have worked out what’s going on, even from miles away. Steve screams, “No!!! Run Eddie, RUN!!!!”

It’s like the night his dad got arrested. Eddie doesn’t even have time to think - his body reacts to that voice and he runs, worn Reeboks slapping the pavement.

(In another world, Eddie would have turned to face the swarm. In another world, Eddie would have died.)

He’s fast. He’s always been fast. He buys himself a few precious moments, before the bats drag him to the ground. They start to rip through his clothes, through his flesh, and he tries to hold back his screams – he doesn’t want Steve to hear this…

Those extra seconds save his life. It’s bad - but not as bad as it could have been. The bats start to drop from the sky, writhing and shrieking; they’re dying, although Eddie has no idea why. Hopefully, it means Steve and the girls were successful.

He struggles to sit up just as Dustin reaches him, crying and frantic. “Eddie!! Oh my god, are you okay? Jesus, there’s so much blood…” the kid moans.

“Yeah, yep. I’m good,” Eddie pants through gritted teeth. “Help me up okay?”

Dustin insists on binding the worst of his wounds first, using strips of fabric torn from the ghillie suit. The pain makes Eddie want to scream all over again, but he allows it. It is an awful lot of blood.

They lean against each other and limp back to the trailer, where Dustin knots t-shirts and jeans and flannel shirts into the remnants of their rope until it’s long enough to reach the other side again.

Eddie manages to haul himself up the rope and through the gate – and that’s where his strength runs out. The pain of landing on the thin mattress knocks him right out.

———

When Eddie wakes up, he’s in a hospital bed.

Holy shit I’m alive, he thinks. He honestly wasn’t sure he would make it.

He moves gingerly, testing each limb, turning his head against the stinging pull of a bandage along the edge of his jaw.

The room isn’t empty; Eddie apparently has a roommate. He clears his throat and the person in the other bed stirs, turning to look at him.

It’s Steve.

His soulmate.

Eddie feels a funny little swoop of exhilaration in his stomach. “Hey Stevie.”

Steve’s face goes soft at first, like he’s experiencing the same fizzy warmth that Eddie is feeling. Then he blinks, and his brows draw down into a scowl. “What the hell was that, huh? What happened to ‘I’m no hero’?”

Oops.

Eddie tries to make light of the situation. “Maybe I wanted to try it out,” he says flippantly. “Not too sure it suits me though. Think I might stick to being a coward from now on – it’s a lot less painful.”

Steve doesn’t smile. He fixes Eddie with a serious look, hazel eyes blazing in the sallow light of the hospital room. “You listen to me Eddie Munson. You're not a coward. You're one of the bravest people I've ever known. Running isn't always a bad thing, okay? Sometimes it's just the smart thing to do."

Eddie’s breath catches in his throat. Those words – once a gift from the future, now an echo of the past. He never should have ignored them. “Maybe you’re right.”

Steve’s mouth is already open to continue the argument. “I…” he stops, clearly caught off-guard, face scrunched in adorable confusion. “Yeah. Yeah, I am right.”

Steve runs a faintly trembling hand through his hair. The angry expression melts into something gentler, almost unbearably soft. “I’m glad you listened to me in the end, at least.”

Eddie shifts his weight, pressing his cheek into the scratchy hospital pillow so he can keep his eyes on Steve.

He’s so beautiful. Even bloody and bruised, with dirt still smudged along his hairline and dark circles under his eyes – he’s the most beautiful boy Eddie has ever seen. And Eddie almost gave this up – if he’d died in the Upside Down, he would have left Steve alone, with only the echo of Eddie’s voice left to haunt him.

“Yeah,” Eddie says hoarsely, “me too.”

He still feels guilty over Chrissy’s death - he probably always will. But he’s coming to realize that proving himself a hero wouldn’t have been worth the pain his death would have caused.

Eddie’s got a second chance… and he plans to make the most of it.

#steddie #soulmate au #steddie fic #my writing #steve harrington/eddie munson #this is…#I don’t know what this is #a mess maybe #trying to get back into the writing groove

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mcrslover · 2 months

Text

MCR quotes for anyone who needs them:

"Kids would say they were going to kill themselves then they heard our music... it's our mission"

- Mikey Way.

...

"Reasons why mcr is good for you

juradsleigh:

Feeling like a rad vampire? Listen to bullets

Feeling angry? Listen to 3 cheers

Feeling sad? Listen to black parade

Feeling colourful and happy? Listen to danger days

Feeling like breaking up your band? Listen to death never stop you"

...

"This is for every kid out there... That dyed their hair a fucked up colour and can't get a job. They got a tattoo on their neck like Frank, and can't get a job. That does this because they fuckin' love this. This song is for every kid in the audience- even if you don't have fucked up hair or tattoos-every kid on stage, this song's about us, this song's about you, it's called The Kids From Yesterday."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Stop covering your children's eyes.

Everything is fucked up and pretending it's not won't make it any better. I'm tired of people praying for a change when it's up to them to get off their asses and make a change."

- Frank Iero.

...

"I spent most of my time in the back of the class, just drawing. My goal was to not get noticed in school, because spent so long not being noticed anyway or being treated as if I were invisible that I started to like it.

I've learned that it's actually not very lonely... It's like, you have less friends but the friends you have count more. I met a lot of people that weren't outsiders, or they were very popular, and they have a lot of friends but I don't know if they're the kinds of friends you would call up at 3 am to help you out or talk about being depressed."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Promise me, when MCR's gone, you'll do what it takes to survive. You're strong enough to do it without us."

- Gerard Way.

...

"All your quirks and all your problems, even your depressions, and your failures that's.. that's what makes you, you."

- Gerard Way.

...

"If you or someone you know is severely depressed you need to fucking talk to someone! Your mom, someone in school, I don't give a fuck! Because suicide is fucking bullshit."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Being happy doesn't mean that everything is perfect. It means that you've decided to look beyond the imperfections."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Nothing is worth hurting yourself over, nothing is worth taking your life over"

- Gerard Way.

...

"If we never play another show again, just keep yourself alive."

- Gerard Way.

...

"We're outsiders, we're the kids who didn't get dates for the prom, we're the kids who were confused, who didn't fit in with the cliques, who weren't part of the in-crowd.

Growing up can be a very frightening and confusing time, and I think people look at us and see it's okay to be different. They see that there is a way other than what they're being offered. That you can stand out, that you can be creative, that you can be yourself."

- Gerard Way.

...

"gerard-hey:

I love MCR so much it's like they have a song for every situation. Feeling sad? Listen to The Lights Behind Your Eyes. Feeling frustrated? Listen to I'm Not Okay. Feeling Energetic? Listen to Na Na Na. Feeling like you wanna kick some ass? Listen to Destroya.

Feeling rebellious? Listen to Teenagers. Feel like you wanna break up your band? Listen to Fake Your Death."

...

"The difference we want to make is, number one, to let these kids know that they're not alone, that they're actually not that messed up, and that they can do whatever they want they can express themselves in any way they want without being persecuted or called a faggot or some kind of racist thing. Really just get people to get over their stuff so they can live."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Whatever happens to you, no matter what, l'm always fucking there for you... Don't forget that. I don't give a shit if your boyfriend dumps you. If your girlfriend dumps you. If you're working a shitty job or can't get through school. If you can't get through a fucking Harry Potter book, there's nothing worth dying over. There's nothing worth taking your life over. I will always fucking be there."

- Gerard Way.

...

"If you come to an MCR show, you're probably a little fucked up, and that's okay because we're just as fucked up as you. It's us against the world. And it's great because there's thousands of us in one place."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Someone doesn't like you? Fuck it.

Having a bad day? Fuck it. Didn't get that job, or that grade, or that promotion you wanted? Fuck it. Fighting with your lover? Fuck it. Feel fat today? Fuck it. Losing control of everything and everyone? Fuck it.

What matters now won't matter soon; the truly important thing is that you are alive, and that you have the capacity to do absolutely anything with this beautiful, crazy coincidence of being on this earth. Just stick your middle fingers in the air and think, 'Damn, I have it good."

- Gerard Way.

...

"You're going to come across a lot of shitty bands, and a lot of shitty people. And if anyone of those people call your names because of what you look like, or bedause they don't accept you for who you are. I want you to look right at that mother fucker, stick up your middle finger and scream

"FUCK YOU!!"

- Gerard Way.

...

"Real revenge is making something of yourself."

- Gerard Way.

❤️🖤❤️🖤

#emo #gerard way #frank iero #my chemical romance #alternative #quotes #mcr #mcrquote #emokids

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notbecauseofvictories · 5 days

Note

Longtime follower and I love seeing your insights, so wondered if you had thoughts or advice on this:

I live alone and I'm not in a relationship, though I do date. I'd say ninety percent of the time I really enjoy my life, seven percent I'm a bit sad or annoyed about not having a partner yet, and three percent I get tossed into the Pit of Despair. That three percent can be tied into hormonal cycles, bad timing, etc - even when I know the cause, it still needs to be lived through. Has that happened with you? If so, how do you manage it? I do okay, but it feels like I could do better.

Ah, but the Pit of Despair and I are best friends now. I've sent pictures from the Pit, all featuring me with an absolutely humorless, rictus grin, which does make me wonder why no one else has noticed yet. I have a timeshare in the Pit of Despair. I spend some time there every six months or so, standing in the middle of my impossibly overgrown, dingy garden, and thinking to myself, how did I get here? how do I get out?

And then, as though endurance isn't enough...then your timeshare in the Pit ends. You emerge in the daylight and immediately forget how grey and hopeless that garden was, the weirdly stained, collapsing furniture in the corner and the crooked yellowing plants and that mean laughter you could sometimes hear over the sounds of waving grass. You think to yourself: that will never happen again! I am free! I am cured!

(This will feel so much worse, the next time you're shoved back into the stupid garden.)

That said, I don't think you're going to like my answer to your next question. This is because I don't like my answer; unfortunately, it remains the only answer I have to this question.

I think having some unsettled sorrow, just a touch of existential despair, is the best we can hope to do in this life.

I think that with both rueful humor and deep, deep disgust, which is typically the combo I bring to musings about being a person. Of course it's a little funny---look at the monkey, it's got anxiety!---and of course it's also frustrating, unspeakable outside of bitter cursing, a problem that will not be fixed because quite frankly it's built too deeply into us to be cut out cleanly and thrown away.

(Look at the fucking monkey, you can tell yourself through gritted teeth, standing in that horrible garden with weeks of dirty dishes in the sink and an inbox of emails and friends blowing up your phone with plans you hate to even think about. It's got anxiety.)

I do not have a cure for this. I manage it with the same sort of humor and ruefulness and bitterness that I mentioned above---I don't beat myself up anymore, when I realize I'm standing in the horrible garden again. I know it too well. Sometimes it has an okay wifi connection? I watch some movies. I get done what I can, and forgive myself the rest. I have been here before; I will get out again. I just need to be patient.

Once I'm out, there will be a whole world, I know there will---full of music I haven't heard before and stories that won't make me cringe and emails I will respond to with ease and conversations where I can be light, amusing even. There is a world beyond the Pit. There is always a world beyond the Pit, I just can't find my way back sometimes.

In the meantime, I take another terrible picture in front of the stained furniture, and caption it "Hello from the Pit!!!" with a bunch of exclamation points to indicate that it's a joke, even though it isn't.

I wait.

#there is no experience of being human without suffering. even the most blessed happy person you know suffers.#so the question becomes: how do you fit suffering inside of you. how do you deal with it.#I sit in a horrible garden and pretend not to listen to the weird disembodied laughter #knowing that this too shall pass.#it will suck in the interim! but it will pass.#sarah gives advice

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 2 months

Text

How You and I Became We

Natasha Romanoff x GN!Reader

Warnings: Light mentions of the red room, Natasha having PTSD, a lot of tooth rotting fluff of reader helping Nat through things and being her rock

Word count: 885

A/N: I felt bad for making Nat the bad guy and had to make up for it. So here she is, being baby and soft.

You met Natasha after she defected from Russia, claiming she wanted to do better and be better. Fury assigned her to you and Barton. Field missions she'd head out with Clint then report back to you.

Slowly you learned things about Natasha especially since you two shared an apartment. Fury had asked if you could take her in since she had nowhere to go and it would take her a bit to save up for her own place.

It was your first night together when you learned about her need to handcuff herself to the bed. You tried to reassure her that she didn't need that and she assured you that she did.

You compromised with her by holding her wrist through the night. You got little sleep that whole first week, but you'd slept worse before.

Slowly you were able to let go of your grip until she didn't need it anymore though you found her still seeking out your touch to help her fall asleep, it usually became your hands intertwined and eventually you'd start waking up with more than just your hands intertwined.

Over time you had learned Natasha's habits and you find her seeking out your office for its comforting atmosphere. The soft yellow lights, soft lofi music, comfy couches, and snuggly blankets. She'd come in quietly, if your desk hadn't faced the door you probably wouldn't even know she'd slipped in as she grabbed a blanket, wrapping herself up and laying down.

She'd start talking in Russian assuming you didn't understand, but you knew several languages. She'd complain about various things, especially the red room. You had learned a lot from her file that Fury gave you and you knew about the Red Room and the horrible things that had gone on there. Natasha only confirmed them as she spoke in Russian.

“Krasnaya komnata isportila vsyu moyu zhizn'. U menya v bukhgalterskoy knige stol'ko krasnogo, i ya ne znayu, smogu li ya kogda-nibud' eto ispravit'... YA ne ponimayu, pochemu ty tak dobr ko mne…(The red room fucked with my whole life over. I've got so much red in my ledger and I don't know if I'll ever be able to fix it...I don't understand why you're so nice to me…)”

You looked up from your paperwork. She wasn't looking at you, just staring off, as she tugged on a loose string of the blanket. You had heard her say a lot of negative things since you had met, but she had never brought you into it so you figured it was time,

“YA dobr k tebe, potomu chto ty mne nravish'sya, Natal'ya. YA dumayu, ty khoroshiy chelovek. Prosto potomu, chto oni kontrolirovali vas tak, kak oni eto delali, vy reshili uyti, chtoby stat' luchshe, potomu chto vy luchshe. To, cherez chto oni zastavili vas proyti, bylo obuslovleno vami, no eto ne znachit, chto eto vy. (I'm nice to you because I like you Natalia. I think you're a good person. Just because they controlled you the way they did it was your decision to leave, to be better because you are better. What they put you through was conditioned into you it doesn't mean it is you.)” you leaned back in your chair, she shot up, blanket falling off of her.

“You can speak Russian?” Her voice wavered as you nodded.

“The whole time?”

“Yes. I didn't want you to stop venting, but I don't want you questioning why I'm nice to you. It's not because I have to be. It's because I want to be. I actually genuinely like you Natalia.” You stood up, making your way around your desk until you were in front of her. She stood a few inches taller than you as you looked up into her striking green eyes.

“Why…?” You shrug.

“Why do we like anything? Or anyone for that matter? Emotions are weird and complicated, but that's okay because there doesn't have to be some big hidden meaning behind why I like you. Do you like me?” Natasha nods, making you smile and slowly reach out for her hand, she allows you to intertwine your fingers. “Then that's all that matters, don't you think?” She looks away and down and everywhere, but at you until you take your other hand and gently cup her cheek which brings her attention back to you. “It's okay to feel this way Tasha. No one is going to stop you, especially not me.” You barely had time to blink before her lips pressed against yours softly.

You let your hand move to the back of her head so she couldn't pull back too quickly as you kissed back, letting your lips dance for the first time.

You let her go, pulling back only to have her chase your lips, gripping your cheeks and pulling you back in as you fall against the couch, her now straddling your lap as she kisses you with a fever like she's suddenly addicted to you and can't get enough until you both need air. Breathing heavily, feeling her hot breath against your face. You grip her hips pulling her closer.

“I do hope that you don't leave me all hot and bothered with just your kisses.” You breathe out, kissing her jaw and neck.

“Wouldn't dream of it.”

#ley speaks #ley drabbles #ley writes #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x gn!reader #natasha romanoff fluff

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wintaerbaer · 5 months

Text

things we don’t say: part 5 (kth)

banner credit: @itaeewon

summary: Three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. But when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems.

pairing: Taehyung x Reader (with some VERY brief Seokjin x Reader and Yoongi x Reader)

rating: 18+

genres: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slow burn, angst, fluff, eventual smut

word count: 12.1k

chapter warnings: jeon jungkook, seventeen is here because i needed fill-ins (also they’re not singers but their music still canonically exists in-universe so good luck figuring that one out), a wedding!, tae is WHIPPED, the infamous butt debate, jealousy (plural), jimin has terrible timing, alcohol consumption ft. a drinking game, a mega cliffhanger i’m so sorry

a/n: while not required, i highly recommend reading the prequel drabble if you haven’t yet as it has some heavy relevance to this part and the next! special thanks to @btsborahaee and @jeonwiixard for beta-ing this chapter and letting me gush and brainstorm in their inboxes on the regular <3 also, shout outs to @animeniacss and @taegularities for sprinting with me all the time (and a forehead kiss to rid for coming up with the idea for the bathroom scene, mwah)!

PREVIOUS // SERIES MASTERLIST // MASTERLIST

Read on ao3

"After today, I never want to see a ribbon ever again."

Jimin fumbles his fingers over the thin string, throwing his hands up in a huff when the slippery material resists his efforts to tie it. With Hoseok and Sunny's wedding only two weeks away, you'd offered to help out with some of the prep work, and Taehyung suggested hosting a mini prep party at your apartment as part of his efforts to make new memories since you'd moved back. True to his word, he’s been at your place nearly every day the past few weeks, cooking dinner with you and rewatching your favorite shows from high school.

You have to admit it’s been pleasantly domestic.

"It's not that bad," you say, finishing off your own ribbon around one of the tiny boxes of chocolate which will be distributed to each of the two-hundred-plus guests as a wedding favor.

"No, I'm serious. I don't even want to tie my shoes anymore. I'm a Crocs guy now."

"I've heard girls love sport mode," Taehyung quietly teases. "Is that right, Y/N?"

The flirtatiousness of his tone startles you, and your eyes snap up to meet his where he sits across from you at the dining room table. He's smiling one of those mischievous grins that makes your stomach churn, belly lurching when he stuns you with a wink before turning back to his own tiny box.

What the fu—

"If any of you show up to my wedding in Crocs, I'm kicking you out," Sunny grumbles.

Hoseok smacks his lips as he ties off a ribbon. "Does that also go for—"

"You as well, yes."

Your group settles into a momentary silence at her declaration—not a sound besides the ripple of ribbon and paper. At least until—

“I got laid wearing Crocs once.”

The entire table groans in unison, and you toss a bit of balled up wrapping paper at Jungkook's chest that bounces pathetically to the floor as Jimin boos. “No one cares about your sexcapades, Kook.”

“What, it was impressive!” he argues. “Just be thankful I'm not bringing any of them to the wedding.”

“I almost wish you were,” Hoseok grumbles. “You'd better not be picking up anyone inappropriate that night. Sisters, cousins, aunts—”

“That was one time!”

“—and anyone else even remotely close to family are off limits.”

Jungkook is quiet for a long moment, pouting to himself, before he says, “Moms?”

The table boos again, more bits of wrapping paper flying his way.

“I'm kidding! Kidding!”

“Actually, Y/N,” Sunny murmurs, leaning towards you. “I hate to bring it up, but are you planning on bringing anyone else in Jace’s place?” Her expression is one of compassionate regret, with pursed lips and a furrowed brow, but the question still hits you low in your chest, knocking the wind out of you.

“I feel terrible asking,” she continues, “but one of my friends from high school originally declined a plus-one, and now she’s asking if there’s any way we can squeeze in this guy she met two weeks ago, and normally I’d tell her no, there’s no way I can change the head count two weeks out and who is this guy anyway, but then I figured that we do technically have an extra spot so we could fit him in, but I’d definitely give you the option to bring someone else first if you wa—“

“It’s fine,” you say, trying to ignore the way everyone else around the table is now looking on in sympathy. “I have no one else to bring. Let her guy come.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” It feels like you’re dying inside, but you try to look unbothered, especially since you can feel Taehyung’s eyes on you. “I don’t mind.”

“Okay,” Sunny quietly agrees, just as Hoseok suddenly jumps in at her side.

“You know, Tae isn’t bringing anyone to the wedding either,” he says, looking between the two of you. “Why don’t you just go together?”

“I’m also going alo—“ There’s a thump under the table and Jungkook immediately shuts his mouth.

You glance at Taehyung, who’s looking back at you with a dip in his eyebrows and parted lips. It was probably a given that you would spend time at the wedding hanging out already, but wouldn’t going together mean something else entirely? A promise of dancing and proximity and a label the two of you have never shared?

Perhaps that’s the reason why he’s staring at you with a touch of discomfort. Your own skin prickles at the thought, and so you scratch away the itch at your chin and deflect.

“That’s okay. We don’t have to.” Then you stand from the table sharply, hitting your limits with this conversation. “I’ll be right back.”

You head for the bathroom, not even needing to do anything in there, but sure that you can busy yourself for a few minutes to get your emotions under control away from your friends. But as you’re about to swing the door shut behind you, a large hand reaches out to stop it with a thud, and Taehyung quickly slips in before closing the door himself.

“Tae, what are you—“

“Come with me.”

You’re practically chest-to-chest, and if not for the fact that you’ve stopped breathing with his question, you’d probably be pressed up against him in the tight space.

“What?”

He licks his lips, pulls in air through his nose like he’s bracing himself.

“Come to the wedding with me.”

The room is heavy with silence as his request fully sinks in, the air between you thick and hot as you try to get some of it into your lungs. It’s hard, though, to develop a coherent thought with him standing so close—his scent engulfing you and dark, searching eyes fixated on your expression.

“I don’t kno—“ you begin, but he’s quick to cut you off.

“Why not? Like Hobi said, neither of us is bringing anyone already.” His fingers brush yours—an apology for mentioning it again. “So why not go together and…not be as alone.”

You shift on your feet. “But you do know that you don’t have to do this. I’m fine without a plus one. There’s no shame in it for me.”

“Y/N,” he huffs. “You know that I like being around you, right?” He nudges gently against the underside of your chin, making you look at him directly. “I wouldn’t have stuck around this long if I didn’t.”

You’re still skeptical—nervous about the implications of what this would look like, especially when you just got out of a relationship. To you, it feels very much like teasing a boundary. But Taehyung is all nerves in front of you, gaze darting up-and-down your face and a tiny pull at the corner of his mouth telling you that he’s chewing on his lip.

And of course, because it’s him, you cave.

“Okay.”

He beams and, not for the first time, you feel your chest lighten at the sight of his boxy smile. “Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” you say, smiling back.

“Okay.” Almost impossibly, his grin gets even wider, and you can see the wheels begin to turn in his head. “Do you have a dress picked out yet? What color is it? I can match you.”

It takes you aback. You wouldn’t have even thought about that. “Emerald green.”

“Emerald green,” he repeats, something registering behind his eyes, and he licks his lips again. “Okay. Great.”

He shifts like he's getting ready to leave, but you catch his fingers to reel him back. And you hate to put it out there, hate to even bring it up, but after everything you’ve been through, you need the clarity.

“And Tae,” you say, “this isn’t a date, right?”

He gives a slow blink, a wave of unknown emotion rippling from forehead to chin before he smiles gently at you, eyes softening at the corners. “Of course not.”

You nod. “Okay.” And a small part of you feels…disappointed?

But there's no time to dwell on it as he exits the bathroom, and you follow him out in spite of doing exactly zero bathroom things. You return to the dining room together, your friends clearly trying to look nonchalant as they diligently work on their party favors but being way too quiet to not have been trying to eavesdrop on your conversation.

“Sunny,” Taehyung says as you take your seats, looking positively brighter. “Just make sure we're sitting next to each other, yeah?”

She snorts. “As if you were anywhere else to begin with.”

Blue skies stretch endlessly in front of you, wind running through your hair and sunlight filtering in through the sunroof as you and Taehyung make the trip to the lakeside resort where Hoseok and Sunny are to be married. He's the absolute picture of relaxation in the driver's seat, wearing sunglasses and a mindless smile with his fingers wrapped delicately around the steering wheel like vines.

He'd opened the door for you when he picked you up, a seemingly spontaneous gesture that had left you both shy and blushing. But if the afternoon started with a touch of unusual awkwardness between you, the prospect of your “not a date” wedding date making itself known, it has since evaporated in the hot summer air. At this point, you’ve spent the past hour chatting, playing road trip games (Taehyung somehow destroying you in the alphabet game in spite of having to focus on driving), and burning through three boxes of Pepero.

“These are an addiction, I swear,” you say, crunching down on a chocolate-filled stick and clapping your hands in delight. Taehyung’s eyes leave the road for a second as he takes you in and grins.

“Was that the last of it?”

“Oh.” You peer into the box. Empty. “Yeah. Sorry. Did you want it?”

“No, it’s fine. You can have it.”

“I sure hope so since I already swallowed it.”

He laughs, whole face lighting up with it, and you feel something turn over behind your ribcage as if someone’s flipped your heart like a pancake. It makes you think that even though you were supposed to be making this trip with a different person, you’re glad it’s him instead.

My love only amounts to this.

The lyrics ring out through the car, and Taehyung leans forward suddenly, turning up the volume on the stereo.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s your favorite song!” he joyfully says. “I know you like to sing along.”

You stare at him blankly, taken aback because you don’t think you’ve ever mentioned this to him. When did he notice…?

“C’mon, sing with me. Play a song I know and one step. Hold my hands and put my feet in, two steps.”

His sweet baritone sounds out beside you, and you feel a grin break out across your face. You always forget what a joy it is to hear Taehyung sing.

“The person to know all my secrets is you,” you sing, joining along. “So I’m even more thankful.”

“Sometimes when you get tired, and I see you crying with your head down, I don't know what to do. What can I do?”

You’re both belting it out at the top of your lungs by the time it gets to the chorus, and you think the sun has somehow moved inside the car with how bright and warm you feel.

My love only amounts to this. But thank you for staying by my side, my baby.

Your car charges down the road, trailing laughter and joy in its wake, and your chest feels light for the first time in weeks.

Even if my love only amounts to this. I'll be your umbrella in the rain. I'll protect you on all your days.

Jimin, Maya, and Jungkook meet you in the hotel lobby—a marble behemoth with wrought iron staircases and sofas that definitely cost more than your rent—and you all line up to check in, gawking at the elaborate chandelier that hangs above your heads.

“How did they even afford this place?” Jimin wonders.

Maya sucks her teeth. “At this rate? I think they might have mob ties.”

“Feet pics,” Jungkook says simply.

Once everyone has obtained their key cards, you set off to find your rooms. You’re all on the same floor since a certain section was booked specifically for the wedding, but with you having a room with only a single queen-sized bed, you’re down the hall and away from the others who booked doubles.

While Jimin, Maya, and Jungkook break off to get acclimated in their own respective rooms, Taehyung follows you into yours with a touch of melancholy, your luggage slung over his shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re fine here alone?” he asks, setting your bag on the ground. “I can room with you if you’d like. I’m sure Kook wouldn’t mind.”

“There’s only one bed,” you point out, blushing.

Taehyung also goes slightly pink. “Well yeah, but the other week we just…or I can take the couch. Or we can ask Kook to swap rooms?”

“It’s okay,” you say. “I’m alone at the apartment all the time anyway.”

He nods, looking oddly shot down. “Alright. But if you change your mind, just ask.”

“Unlikely,” you tease with a wrinkle of your nose. “You snore.”

He gasps, feigning hurt. “I do not.”

He doesn’t. But you still tilt your head solemnly, pressing your lips together as if preparing to deliver bad news. “You do.”

“Shit,” he sighs before the two of you break down in giggles.

A few hours later, the five of you wind up at the resort’s restaurant for dinner, lamenting the exorbitant prices but enjoying an incredible meal. The night dwindles down as you settle in at the bar, figuring you can have a couple drinks before resting up for tomorrow’s big day. With a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, you have a perfect view of the lake outside and the glow of the sunset spreading out above the trees. It tints the room orange, seeping onto every surface, including Taehyung’s forearms resting atop the bar.

You trace his veins with your eyes, study the way they trail to his hands curled lightly around his low ball glass. Your friends are talking about plans for tomorrow, but you’re not paying much attention; you’re far more interested in trying to figure out when your best friend’s arms started looking like that.

“And don’t worry, Chim. If I have the chance to get lucky, I’ll make sure not to use our room,” Maya says, placing a hand over her heart in pledge. “No locking you out because I’m a good friend.”

But Jungkook has tensed up next to you, and in spite of the cute pout of his lips, the creasing of his forehead suggests that he’s genuinely upset. “Hook-up? You’re going to find a hook-up?”

Maya looks at him incredulously, drink paused halfway to her lips. “Possibly. Aren’t you?”

“I…” His teeth bite into his lip. “It’s a wedding.”

She barks out a devilish laugh. “So? When has that ever stopped you?” A spiteful glare is sent his way that even has you shrinking behind him in secondhand shame. “Since when do you have morals?”

Taehyung’s knee squeezes against yours under the bar—a warning, probably, but your brain momentarily becomes fixated on the weight of it, on how nice it feels to have his warmth pressed against you. It’s not until he taps a finger against your thigh, signaling with his eyes at the sullen man behind you, that you pass on the touch, giving Jungkook’s elbow a gentle nudge in support and encouragement. He takes a quick look at you with sad, vulnerable eyes, and you’re reminded of how flustered he’d been during your conversation a few weeks ago.

“I was actually thinking,” he begins, more serious than you’ve ever seen him, “that maybe we could go together since neither of us have dates.”

Maya snorts, setting her drink down firmly on the countertop. “Why, so you can ditch me halfway through for the first woman that flutters her eyelashes at you? No thanks.”

Jungkook physically recoils like he’s been slapped, the force sending him back so far that he practically winds up in your lap. “You really think I would do that?”

His voice is tiny, hurt dripping from every syllable, and it makes Maya finally look up, face dropping as she seems to realize the wounds she’s inflicted upon him.

Her brows draw together, and she opens her mouth to say something but is interrupted by the bartender popping up to ask if anyone needs a refill. By the time he leaves, the moment’s passed, and Jungkook briskly stands up, throwing some money down on the bar.

“I’m done. See you guys tomorrow.” And he strides out towards the hotel lobby.

You hop to your feet, shaking your head at Maya. “That was uncalled for.”

She looks guilty but says nothing, rubbing a finger along the rim of her glass, and you follow Jungkook out, calling his name as he approaches the elevators.

“Jungkook!”

He spins to face you with a frown, thumbs hooked in his pants pockets like he’s trying to look casual, but his eyes betray his discomfort. “What?”

“She didn’t mean that,” you say, slightly breathless from your jog across the lobby. “I know she didn’t.”

“Sure she did. That’s who she is. Always speaks her mind.” He shrugs, shirt rippling over his shoulders. “It’s fine. I don’t care.”

“Don’t you though?” you ask. “You’re not a bad guy, Kook. You deserve simple respect at least.”

“Maybe I don’t.” The elevator dings, and he steps inside, turning back to you with a final sad smile. “Night, Y/N.”

A sense of dread taps into the back of your skull, fear that your original inkling on this relationship was perhaps correct. Though you’ve since warmed up to the idea of Maya and Jungkook as a potential couple, it was this exact tension that you were worried about—their fire and gasoline dynamic harboring implications that could blow up your entire friend group.

Taehyung strolls up next to you as the doors roll shut, sighing as he comes to a stop. “He okay?”

“No, but don’t try telling him that.”

He purses his lips. “I had a quick talk with Maya. Reminded her that just because she’s had bad experiences with guys in the past doesn’t give her the right to take it out on him.”

“Good,” you say. “She probably needed to hear it.”

A nod as he assesses your figure and asks, “Are you coming back to the bar? I already covered your tab.”

“Oh, I’ll pay you back—“

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “You can make it up to me a different time.”

You smirk at him, stepping closer. “How about I roll it into your Christmas present?”

“Deal.”

You let out a soft laugh, and he offers to walk you up, pressing the button to call the elevator back. The two of you chat about nothing in particular as you make your way to the third floor, commenting on the ridiculously patterned carpet in the halls and laughing about the strangely risqué photos that you noticed hanging in the rooms.

When you arrive at your door, you swipe your key card over the sensor, turning the light from red to green and wishing Taehyung goodnight, but he loops his fingers around your wrist to lightly tug you back.

“Y/N.” He curls his bottom lip over his teeth, head dipping towards the ground in a shy smile as he searches for his words. “I’m…really looking forward to tomorrow. It’s going to be fun.”

He’s adorable; he truly is. Seventeen years of affection, and he still finds ways to endear you to him even more, bits of gold from the lamps catching on the browns of his eyes as he stands before you.

“It is,” you say, tongue tied around your own apprehension. He hums and looks like he wants to say more—tangles his fingers in front of him and chews on his lip as he fidgets. But after a moment passes—you still stuck on his eyes—he jerks his chin down in a nod, says goodnight, and leaves you standing at your door in confusion, taking one look back as he swipes his own key card down the hall and disappears into his room.

You enter your own space with your mind whirling, not sure what the hell just happened but also sure that you’re not upset about it. And once you’ve gone through your bedtime routine and settled in for the night, you fall asleep thinking about brown eyes and shy smiles, welcoming the most restful sleep you’ve had in weeks.

You awake to the sound of Maya knocking on your door promptly at 9am with her suitcase in hand, casually making her way to your bed when you let her in and picking up the hotel menu from the side table while you stare at her. "What are you doing?" "We are going to order room service and watch some shitty TV, and then I am going to help you get you ready for your date." "It's not a date," you say on impulse, though you're internally tamping down the involuntary flutter that's tickling your stomach. "If it's anything, it's a guy taking pity on his unexpectedly-single friend." "Pity date then." She says it with a nonchalant wave of her hand and doesn't give you the chance to speak when you open your mouth to protest. "Y/N, please, just give me the chance to make his jaw drop. If there really is nothing there like you say there is, then what's the harm?" The harm, you think to yourself, is the tingling feeling that's been increasing in intensity when you've been around Taehyung recently, warmth flooding your body at just the thought of him. Your brain has been desperately explaining it away, chalking it up to years of familiarity and comfort being stoked by the emotional trauma which (you're quick to remind yourself) you're still working through. No, Y/N, I don’t have feelings for you. It's these thoughts that, in the end, have you acquiescing as Maya lets out a joyful squeal. At the very least, you make your friend happy and get some well-deserved girl bonding time. Really, what's the harm?

The idea has barely finished running through your mind when you’re already beginning to regret it and wondering what the hell you just got yourself into. Maya wheels her entire suitcase to the foot of your bed and pulls out no less than seven bags of make-up, a curling iron, hairspray, four different brushes, and a straightener.

“Are you doing the entire wedding party after this?” you ask incredulously. “Why did you bring so much?”

“Needed to be ready for anything,” she says, organizing her tools into neat rows. “When I’m done with you, every straight man and half the women will be falling at your feet.”

Your face heats, and you subconsciously rub at your arm. “That’s really not necessary.”

“Okay, then just one man.” She raises her arms, fingers arranged into a square through which she peers at you like she’s sizing you up for a photograph. “Hmm, where should we start?”

You and Maya make your way to the resort's event hall a little while before the ceremony is scheduled to begin. Seating doesn't seem to have opened yet as guests mill about the entryway, the buzz of conversation filling the space above your heads, and the two of you pause at the top of the stairs to see if you can spot your friends. "I think Kook's got a purple tie," she says, peering around. "And you know what he's wearing why?" you ask, but she ignores you. "Oh, look, there they are." Maya's goal may have been to get Taehyung's jaw to drop, but you're left stunned when you look over to where he's standing with Jimin and Jungkook, the now-familiar tingle rippling through your veins once again. His black suit is perfectly tailored, accentuating his broad shoulders and narrow waist, emerald green tie wrapped around his neck to match the color of your dress as promised. He's slicked his hair back and away from his eyes so you're able to see how they nervously dart between Jimin and Jungkook, clearly not listening to whatever it is they're enthusiastically saying. Actually, once you look more closely, everything about his body language screams nerves for some reason, his hands moving back and forth to play with the hems of his jacket before smoothing the lapels over and over again. Maya waves, grabbing Jimin's attention, and you watch as he grins at the two of you before leaning in to say something to Taehyung, pointing at where you're standing. Maybe, you think, just maybe you appreciate Maya's plan from this morning after Taehyung glances up at you. His incessantly-moving fingers finally still—halfway through re-adjusting his tie—and his perfect Cupid's-bow-lips pop open, eyes wide as he soaks you in in your floor-length gown. Maya’s worked your hair into loose curls cascading over your shoulders and bare back, and while you convinced her to not go wild with the make-up, she strong-armed you into agreeing to a deep red lipstick that’s only accentuated by the green of your dress. A smug cough comes from your right (clearly Maya's pleased with her work) as you descend the stairs and approach the trio of men. Jimin and Jungkook greet you brightly while Taehyung still looks mildly concussed, continuing to stare at you with his mouth half-open. "Alright there, Tae?" you ask, reaching up to adjust and smooth out his tie, messy from where his hands had frozen on it.

The pads of your fingers are hot where they brush against the hard muscle of his chest, and you try not to read too deeply into the pounding of his heart. Taehyung makes a weird noise akin to what you'd imagine a drowning fish would sound like, and Jungkook gives him a sharp slap on the back, which seems to knock him out of whatever trance he'd fallen into. "Incredible!" he blurts, and you almost want to laugh at the reset-button-like effect Jungkook's smack seems to have on him. He clears his throat, composing himself further. "I, um—you, I mean. You look incredible." You thank him, ignoring the second wave of smugness that comes from Maya's direction, just as the event staff open the doors and begin ushering guests into the hall. Taehyung offers you his arm, and you gladly take it as he guides you to sit alongside your friends.

The wedding hall is as grandiose as the rest of the hotel, with columns ornamenting the sides of the room and a massive flower arch constituting the altar. You all talk as you wait for the ceremony to begin, admiring the decor (the bright bouquets of red, purple, and blue flowers pop against the stark white of the venue) and trying to see if you recognize any of the guests.

“Oh, there’s Sunny’s cousin Chan,” Maya says, peering out over the room. “Remember we met him at that party one time?”

“Didn’t the two of you drunkenly make-out?” you ask.

Jimin frowns. “I thought they hooked up.”

“No, Y/N is right.” She fixes her hair, oblivious to the way Jungkook is now staring at the man in question, hackles raised. “Wouldn’t say no to that happening again; he was good with his hands. Tae, are you alright? You’re looking at Y/N like she’s sprouted four more arms.”

You swivel your head around to see Taehyung next to you, entirely flushed red above the shoulders. He licks his lips as he meets your eyes, blinking furiously like he’s trying to clear his thoughts. “Sorry, I spaced out.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Maya waves a dismissive hand, shuffling her attention to Jimin to ask if he knows about the music choices for the ceremony.

A throat clears on your right. “You do look nice. Really.” Taehyung looks utterly sheepish, his head tilted low as he softly pays you the compliment, and it reminds you of how shy he was last night as well. A butterfly takes flight in your chest, and now you’re the one blushing.

“Thank you. You cleaned up nicely, too,” you reply, and he blinks at you in a way that has you second guessing your words. “Not that you don’t always clean up nicely. And not that you don’t normally look very handsome. Because you do. Look very handsome, I mean. All the time.”

His bashfulness morphs into amusement, lips quirking up in an affectionate smile. “Oh, really?”

Your face heats up even more, mouth opening to respond with you don’t even know what, and you’re grateful when a hush falls over the room, the beginning notes of a wedding march signaling the ceremony’s start.

Hoseok appears first, looking dapper in a full tuxedo and grinning ear-to-ear. He walks down the aisle with long strides like he can’t possibly get to the end fast enough, bouncing on his toes as he settles into his spot.

The officiant is next, followed by Iseul and Seokmin, one of Hoseok’s childhood friends. Hana and Namjoon stroll in arm-in-arm after that, then Yumi and Jiho, and finally, everyone rises to their feet as Sunny appears at the entrance and begins her walk in, gaze finding only her groom.

Just as Sunny reaches the head of the aisle, a teary-eyed Hoseok taking her hands in his, another image, one which had once occupied your mind almost constantly but hadn't plagued you in weeks, takes hold: you and Jace in a similar setting, pledging forever to each other in front of your friends and family.

Maybe you had gotten ahead of yourself—the discovery of the ring box in his desk along with the natural longevity of your relationship sparking your imagination—but in the weeks leading up to your heartbreak, you had allowed your mind to plan—what kind of dress you'd wear, the colors you'd pick out, what you might say in your vows. It seems stupid now, dwelling on a future that's already evaporated into nothingness, but seeing the echoes of your dreams being played out in front of you, it’s like you can feel the sand physically slipping through your fingers.

Right as it starts to become too much, as you feel your chest tighten and heart ache, there's a brush of skin against the side of your hand, and glancing down, you see that Taehyung's reached over to quietly hook his pinky with yours. You turn to face him, but he keeps his eyes directed on the bride and groom, face neutral and unreadable, and you know he's giving you the chance to pull away, no questions asked.

But the gesture has warmth flooding through you, thawing the ice of your previous thoughts, and so you move to slip your hand under his, lacing your fingers and pressing your palms together tightly.

Taehyung looks at you then, a shy smile crinkling his eyes and twisting up the corners of his mouth, and you grin back, the previous ache in your chest replaced with a steady flutter as he begins to skim his thumb back and forth in a gentle caress.

You stay that way for the rest of the ceremony—watching your friends vow eternity to each other, Taehyung's hand tethered with yours.

Classical music drifts from the speakers at the back of the room as you find your seats for the reception. The ballroom is tremendous, with tall, arched ceilings, a gorgeous chandelier, and a wide dance floor that you’re sure will see a ton of action later. With the tables seating eight, you see that you’ve been placed in a grouping of you, Taehyung, Maya, Jimin, Jungkook, and three of Hoseok’s medical school friends, who introduce themselves as Wonwoo, Joshua, and Mingyu.

Thankfully, your group hits it off immediately. Wonwoo is rather reserved, more an observer of those around him than anything, but Taehyung and Jimin quickly strike up a conversation with Joshua about college after the latter mentions having gone to the same school as you, albeit never crossing paths. Maya and Mingyu, meanwhile, immediately fall into their own introductions, talking about how they know Hoseok and Mingyu’s studies to become a doctor.

“If you ever need a headshot or something, let me know,” Maya says, laying a hand on his arm. Across the table, Jungkook's head shoots up. “I do work as a photographer and would be happy to help.”

“Oh, really?” Mingyu makes no move to remove her hand; if anything, he shifts even closer. “What are your rates?”

“For you? Free of charge. Any friend of Hoseok is a friend of mine.” They're in their own little bubble now, Jungkook watching wide-eyed. “Besides, you'd be doing me a favor. With a face like that, you're a photographer's dream. Perfect model.”

Mingyu smirks. “A face like what?”

“Dangerously handsome.”

“HEY, WHAT DO YOU GUYS WANT TO SPECIALIZE IN?”

Jungkook practically screams it, and not only do Maya and Mingyu turn to look at him in bewilderment, but so does the rest of the table and a few guests in the neighboring seats.

Joshua clears his throat awkwardly, eying Jungkook like he might be rabid. “I’m trying for pediatrics.”

“Surgery,” Wonwoo says.

Maya turns towards her new companion. “What about you, Mingyu?”

He leans back in his chair. Gives a light tug on his tie. “I have a residency lined up in obstetrics and gynecology.”

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me—”

“Jungkook,” Taehyung says, cutting him off as he slides his chair back from the table. “Why don’t you help me get a round of drinks?”

“But—“

“C’mon.” He says it gently, like he’s trying to coax a toddler, and rises to his feet, giving you a gentle tap on the shoulder as he goes. “Cosmo?”

“Yes, please,” you say, and he nods, dropping a quick wink your way as Jungkook joins him, grumbling under his breath.

Joshua watches them walk away in the direction of the bar. “Is he always this…”

“Annoying?” Maya scoffs.

“Transparent.” Wonwoo quietly smirks.

A gentle laugh sounds on your left as Jimin hears. “I don’t know that anyone has ever described Jungkook as subtle in his life.”

Maya frowns, Mingyu looking downright perplexed at her side. “I don’t think I quite understand what’s going on,” he begins, but Maya soothes him with another press of her hand to his arm.

“Don’t worry about him. It doesn’t matter,” she says. “Tell me more about your residency.”

The reception passes in a swirl of music and drinks and food—and oh goodness, the food. Plates heaped with calamari, crab legs, and tiny filets wrapped in bacon are placed at the table by wait staff as your group digs in. Even Jungkook is placated, no longer scowling at Maya and Mingyu.

"Ughhh, I am never eating this well again," Jimin groans, stretching back in his chair and giving an exaggerated rub to his belly.

"You'd best get ready to," Taehyung says from your other side. "This isn't even dinner."

"This isn't even dinner?!"

Dinner turns out to be just as delicious and lavish as the appetizers, and it's no surprise that once dancing starts, your friends opt to stay seated for a while longer talking and digesting. As the party climbs to a full swing, Mingyu asks Maya to dance, Jimin and Jungkook start a debate on whether the butt is one body part or two, and Taehyung excuses himself to the restroom.

“It’s one part that’s split!” Jimin loudly exclaims. “The top is connected!”

“Jimin, go home, stand in front of the mirror, and pull your right ass cheek up. See if your left cheek comes up with it, and then get back to me, you absolute clown.”

“Do they do this a lot?” Joshua asks, the two idiots arguing between you.

“At least once a month.” You take a sip of your drink as you look on, bored. “I’m pretty sure this one is a rerun from last Halloween.”

“It’s one,” Wonwoo says, amused.

A flash of green catches your eye, and you look up to see Taehyung standing by the side of the bar, speaking with a woman. She's about your age, you think, and pretty, wearing a low-cut dress that certainly accentuates her chest.

She and Taehyung are talking excitedly, and you can tell he's putting the charm on—eyes bright, signature boxy smile lighting up his face. Nausea simmers in the pit of your stomach, and you force your attention back towards Jimin and Jungkook, trying to focus on whatever nonsense they're debating now.

This isn't a “date-date,” you remind yourself. And Taehyung hasn't had a relationship in a year—not since he was so torn up after Luna. He deserves to meet someone.

You’re spaced out next to your friends, still only halfway listening to them jabber on about butt cheeks, when a slow song starts up over the speakers and, within seconds, a hand is being extended over your shoulder.

You look up to find Taehyung's eyes gazing steadily down at you, a small but confident smile playing on his lips.

"Dance with me?"

And in spite of the unease that had plagued you only moments ago, you don't hesitate to let him wrap up your small hand in his large one and lead you to the dance floor. His palm settles on your lower back to pull you in close, and maybe it’s the proximity or the intoxicating smell of his cologne that weakens your resolve, but you find the words spilling out.

"Did you get her number?"

Taehyung looks at you quizzically, brow furrowing in confusion. "Whose?"

"The woman at the bar."

His face relaxes as he realizes. "Oh, yeah. I did."

"Good." You manage a smile. Why does it feel so hard? "It really is…good you're getting back out there. Are you going to ask her on a date?"

He laughs, mischief in his eyes. "I don't think her fiancé would like that." And now it's your turn to look confused.

"Her fiancé?"

"I met the two of them through Hoseok a couple times so we've chatted. Nice people." He nods his head, and you look over to see the woman now dancing with a man not too far from you. "They just got engaged, and she knows I'm a photographer so she asked if I'd be interested in doing the wedding. I said I'd call her this week to talk about it."

"Oh." You can feel your face flush, but there's no doubting the relief that floods through you. And Taehyung surely notices, grinning down at you in amusement.

"Were you jealous?"

"No!" you say, but perhaps a little too quickly because Taehyung laughs, his fingers applying a gentle pressure to your back to pull you closer.

"I'm here with you," he murmurs matter-of-factly.

You shake your head at him. "It's fine, Tae. If someone catches your eye…like I said, it could be good—"

"I'm here with you," he repeats, more firmly this time. He releases your hand for a moment to tuck a stray curl behind your ear, and you have to look away. You spot Hoseok and Sunny swaying together in the middle of the dance floor, pressed closely together and smiling at each other like they're the only two people in the world. What it must be like to have someone look at you like that, you think, to hold you like you're something precious to be cherished. You had thought Jace made you feel that way, but now, watching your friends gaze at each other so delicately, so in love, you're no longer sure he even came close.

"What are you looking at?" Taehyung's voice rouses you out of your thoughts, and you suddenly notice his hand has drifted a little higher to where the back of your dress dips down low, exposing your bare skin.

Trying to pass off the shiver that involuntarily runs through you as a nod, you gesture at the newly married couple. "They're so good together."

Taehyung follows your line of sight, watching Hoseok lean down to murmur something in Sunny's ear that makes her giggle and press her face into his chest. "They are."

"Can you imagine loving someone like that?" Your voice is a bare whisper as if the words slipped out on their own accord, like a wish you didn't even realize you were making.

Taehyung's fingers splay at your spine, gently tugging you in until your hips are bumping his. Startled, your eyes snap back to him, breath catching in your chest. He's gazing at you intently, but as opposed to the intense fire that you've seen from him at times, there's only a deep warmth to his brown irises that you're not sure you've ever seen before. He looks at you with softness, with both a sense of familiarity and wonder that can only be attributed to your many years of companionship, and you see it all swimming behind his eyes—every day spent together seeking refuge from your families, every stupid childhood fight, every time you comforted each other through the bad days. And before you can deflect, can explain away the question as a rhetorical slip of the tongue, you hear his answer come out on a breath.

"Yes."

There’s a weight to it, the word landing from his lips like a stone into water, and you suddenly forget where you are. The world around you fades away: faces, music, and noise all receding into the background until it’s just him and you, you and him.

Just like it’s always been.

Taehyung's head dips towards you as if pulled by gravity, and your body responds in turn, hand sliding from his shoulder to the hair at the nape of his neck and eyes fluttering shut. Your breaths mingle together, his nose lightly brushing against yours, and you find yourself on the brink of keening forward, on the brink of diving headfirst into a place of no return, when—

"Hey, we're going to step outside for some air. Do you guys wanna—oh."

You spring apart. Jimin is staring at the two of you, eyes so wide you're worried they might fall out of his head. His hand is still half-raised, pointing in the direction of the doors behind him, and you use this to make your escape.

"Yeah sounds good I'll come outside definitely," you babble before speeding towards the exit. Glancing back over your shoulder, you see Jimin say something animatedly to Taehyung, but the latter shakes his head and mumbles something back, his face pink.

The night air is cool on your skin, and you could not be more grateful for it because what the fuck was that?

Were you really about to kiss your best friend? Or was he going to kiss you? Things had certainly been…different between you two recently, but this surely would have been an awful idea. If something went wrong or there was a misunderstanding, you'd likely never be able to come back from it.

He said he doesn't have feelings for you.

…But do you have feelings for him?

Maybe yes, his smile has always set your heart alight unlike anything else and yes, your brain seems to have been lingering recently on how damn handsome he is and yes, you'd do anything for him at the drop of a hat—follow him anywhere—but given your history, of course you would, right? He's your best friend.

And he deserves to be more than a rebound. Because that's what this must be—lingering heartbreak amplified by the emotions of a wedding. You may have even imagined Taehyung leaning towards you, a desperate fantasy of a mind just wanting to be loved.

That's it, you decide. Your brain must have finally snapped into a world of delusion.

You're so caught up in your thoughts that you don't hear Jungkook approach you, practically jumping out of your skin when he places a gentle hand on your arm.

"Y/N—shit—you okay?" He looks at you with his big doe eyes wide and apologetic.

"Yeah," you say, as your racing heart begins to calm. "You just startled me."

"Sorry, I tried to call you, but I don't think you heard. We're back over there if you want to join us." He nods his head in the direction of a patio area behind him, and you spot Namjoon, Joshua, and Wonwoo sitting around a table next to an elegant fountain, its ornamental lights illuminating the magnificent swan sitting atop it. They’re all laughing and, for some reason, the sight makes your chest tighten.

"Um, maybe in a little bit. I think I might just need a walk right now."

Jungkook studies you, biting ever so slightly into his bottom lip, and you think you see something in the way of understanding behind his eyes (you wonder if it has anything to do with the notable absence of Maya and Mingyu). "Do you want company?"

When you just give him a small smile and shake your head, he nods.

"Okay, well…you know where to find us." He moves to rejoin the others, but then turns back towards you, taking easy steps on his heels. "And just shout if you need a friend."

You meander around the outside of the hotel, following the stone path that paves its way around the perimeter. There's a certain kind of peace out here. Though the summer is nearing its close, you can still hear crickets chirping in the grass and spot the occasional firefly dangling in the air. You focus on the swishing of the cars out on the main road and try to let the sound clear your mind, but as you settle on a short brick wall overlooking the property's enormous lake, you realize it's no use.

Your eyes drift closed as you sink into the grief once again, let it slowly overtake you like quicksand until your lungs are crushed and burning. But more than anything, you’re simply exhausted—perpetually drained by the demons which have once again arrived to feast on your psyche.

At this point, you think most of your frustration lies with yourself. Maybe you’re being overdramatic, maybe you should be over it by now—if only you were stronger, more resilient. Not the miserable pushover you feel you’ve turned out to be. Harsh? Yes. Unfair? Perhaps. This does feel like the breaking point in your life’s long line of abandonments, digging up feelings you haven’t felt since you were a child.

But that being said, it also makes you feel like you should be used to it by now. Should be used to having to bounce back—what else can you expect from the world at this point, really? What a fool you were to even think that this time would be different.

The sound of quiet footsteps has you opening your eyes again, and you’re not sure whether the man in front of you is the first or last person you want to see right now.

Taehyung has his hands in his pockets, watching you with that calculated expression he always has on when he’s trying to gauge your mood. But all you can see in his face on your end is concern, not a hint of awkwardness or trepidation after what just transpired between the two of you in the ballroom.

So it really must have been all in your head.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Kook said you seemed upset.”

“I’m fine.” You try to push out a smile, but he unsurprisingly sees right through it, closing the gap between you and gesturing at the spot to your right.

“Mind if I sit?”

You’re still not entirely in the mood for company but you can’t bring yourself to say no to him, so you give the tiniest of nods and Taehyung settles on the wall next to you.

The two of you sit in silence for a bit, the buzz of the surrounding trees continuing its serenade. Taehyung doesn’t push, doesn’t say anything, only provides a steady presence. On particularly bad days when you were kids, you’d both wander down to the local playground and sit on the swings for a while. Sometimes you’d talk—either to rant and let it all out or make each other laugh to distract yourselves—but most nights, you’d just sit in the quiet and enjoy the feeling of not being alone.

It feels like that now, with Taehyung’s warmth radiating at your shoulder and the stars hanging above, but tonight, you’re compelled to speak.

“I’m really pathetic, huh?”

Taehyung’s eyes flash as he looks over at you, but he doesn’t interrupt, sensing you want to say more.

“I’m at my friends’ wedding, I’m supposed to be celebrating them and their love for each other, and instead I’m out here having a pity party.” You scoff. “It’s pathetic and selfish.”

“First of all, we are out here having a pity party,” Taehyung begins, and it draws a sudden laugh from you that you think sounds halfway deranged, but he only smiles.

"Secondly, you're not pathetic, and you're not selfish. You just went through a traumatic event, you know? You're allowed to have emotions."

"I know, but I just don't…want to," you sigh. "I just want it all to stop. I'm so tired of feeling weighed down especially on a day like this, but it's like it just doesn't end. The reminders don't end."

"You thought he'd be here," Taehyung says softly, and though his head nods slightly in understanding, his voice is tinged with sadness. "You miss him."

"I—that's not exactly it, no," you quickly say, not wanting him to think that you somehow regret being here with him. "Given what he did…like you’ve said, it's not forgivable, so it's not like I wish he was here. I mean, sure, are there some days where I reflexively think about him and stuff? Of course—we were together for four years—but I…still would prefer to never see him again."

Taehyung lets out a short sigh that you interpret as approval, but he stays quiet, giving you time to work out your thoughts.

"I think it's more the loss of security than anything. Seeing Hoseok and Sunny up at the alter…I couldn't help thinking that I was so, so close to that—to having that one person that I could commit to walking through life with. A partner, a friend, just someone to have day-in and day-out. Forever." You choke up, a fresh wave of tears lodging in your throat that you try to keep down. Taehyung is stiff next to you, staring down at his hands in his lap.

"And I want that, Tae. I want that so bad. But it's…so scary to start from scratch after feeling that close. I feel like I'm losing my mind. I'm just constantly overwhelmed and feel like I can't outrun it, and then I feel guilty on days like this because I shouldn't be letting it get to me, and—"

"Hey, hey, Y/N, shhhh." Taehyung finally jumps in as you begin to spiral, reaching out to take your hand in his. "You don't have to worry or feel guilty because you are going to have all of that. Okay? You will."

"You can't know that."

"I do." He slips his pinky around yours briefly before his hand comes up to cup your jaw, guiding your eyes to his. "I promise you. I don't know how far out it'll be, but one day we'll all be together again at a place like this, and it'll be your turn." He gets a faraway look in his eye, seemingly perceiving something that you're struggling to even grab a glimpse of right now. "It'll be everything you've ever dreamed of—intimate and outdoors, right? I know you always said growing up that you were going to get married at the Spring Day Gardens. If you still want it, it'll be yours."

You let his words draw you in, painting you a picture so beautiful you're afraid to even let your heart believe in it. But his baritone voice presses on.

"And it'll be perfect. Not a cloud in the sky—nothing but sunshine. And we'll all be there, and you'll have your favorite lily bouquet and your perfect dress…"

Something stops him, and he blinks at you, dropping his palm from your face and glancing away at the lights from the party before resuming his tale.

"And the guy…" He licks his lips, and you feel the hand that's still holding yours tighten ever so slightly. "He's going to love you so much. Properly love you. He's going to see you come down that aisle and weep because he's just going to know that he's the luckiest guy in the universe. And if he doesn't cry right away, I'll kick him in the shins up there until he does because in spite of what Jimin and Jungkook think, we all know that I'm actually your best man."

You let out a watery giggle, the tears flowing freely now, and Taehyung reaches up to swipe a few off your cheeks, letting out a chuckle of his own.

"I want to believe you," you say quietly. "And hopefully one day I will. I just…I need more time."

"Whatever you need, you know I'm here for you," he murmurs, and you nod.

You fall back into silence for a few moments, Taehyung dutifully continuing to hold your hand while you lightly sniffle and wipe at your cheeks.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to go back to the party like this—I think you ruined my make-up," you joke, trying to lighten the mood.

"Maybe, but you're the prettiest raccoon I've ever seen."

You laugh in earnest now, your shoulders shaking with it, and Taehyung smiles at you before suddenly rising to his feet.

"Wait here," he says, and then he's jogging back up towards the venue.

The silence envelops you again as you continue to mull over Taehyung's vision. Your battered heart is hesitant to dream, all of your imaginings coming in with fuzzy edges and blurry details that you just can't seem to place. But you're sure Taehyung was definitely right about one thing—you can't imagine a situation where you get married without him standing by your side.

It's a handful of minutes later when the man himself finally reappears with a hand behind his back and a mischievous smile on his face. When you raise your eyebrows at him in question, he comes to a halt in front of you and presents a full fifth of your favorite whiskey.

"What do you say we get out of here?"

The dim hotel lights cast a soft glow about the room as you and Taehyung pass the bottle back and forth, the mood significantly more casual than the extravagant party you just ditched. The decor may be fancy—Hoseok and Sunny certainly didn’t skimp when it came to location—but the two of you are perfectly rumpled, stretched out on the expensive sheets: you having removed your make-up and changed into your pajamas and Taehyung propped up against the headboard with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his jacket and tie tossed over the couch.

You’ve started up a game of Truth or Drink, a somewhat milder version of Truth or Dare, where you get to take turns asking each other questions, and the respondent has the chance to either answer the question or take a mouthful of whiskey. Normally, between you and Taehyung, such a game would be low stakes, with your shared years and few secrets between you making it hard to ask challenging questions. But something about tonight and the need for a distraction seems to have made both of you competitive, going for questions that you know the other wouldn’t want to answer.

“What was the last thing you cried about?”

“One thing you don’t like about me?”

“Favorite position?”

“Did you really lose your virginity in a tree house?”

“What’s your greatest fear?”

"If you could have anything in the world right now, what would it be?"

"Oh God, one of those cupcakes from Sweet Night Bakery," you groan. It was a place you had passed every day on the way to school, the wafting scents of cookies and cakes playing pied piper to your youthful noses. You had always dreamed of one day being able to afford the expensive pastries but had fled your hometown before having the adult money to do so.

"Seriously? Anything in the world and you want a cupcake?" Taehyung laughs, pink tongue poking out from behind his teeth.

"It's not just anything, it's one of my life's dreams," you counter, playfully shaking a fist at him for emphasis, but Taehyung seems unconvinced. "Fine then, if you have such a good answer. Same question."

He tilts his head at you, a mild haze in his eyes that tells you that while he's not drunk-drunk, he's definitely tipsy. A beat passes and he takes a drink.

"Ooh, mysterious," you slur. "But I win."

"Alright, alright." He grins at you. "I concede to your sugary dreams."

You mirror his smile, observe the way his fingers curl in his lap as you try to think of your next question. He’s always had nice hands—so delicate and careful with everything he touches. It’s odd, you think, how such gentleness could emerge from a home and upbringing that was anything but. How someone as bright as Taehyung could come from such darkness.

“Do you want kids one day?”

The question takes him by surprise when you ask it, and he physically startles, turning the bottle in his hands slowly. “I don’t know. Why?” He looks at you then, and you feel like you can see a riddle being worked out in his head. “Where did that question come from?”

“I don’t know,” you echo. “You spent so much time earlier imagining a future for me. I realized that we’ve never really talked about what you want for yourself outside of your career.”

Growing up, you’d discussed your dreams for the future, of course. But while you have always skewed towards the romantic, envisioning rings and weddings and vows, Taehyung’s always been much more practical and career-oriented—his plans always involved degrees and promotions and retirement funds.

A beat passes as he continues to fidget with the whiskey bottle before he again says, “I’m really not sure.”

“Well think about it now,” you challenge. “Or drink up.”

He chuckles to himself, some private joke in his head. “It would terrify me, I think. But I’d love them with everything I’ve got. Want to give them everything I didn’t have and be better than my parents were.”

You hum in agreement; you’ve had the same thoughts on occasion. Some who grew up in your situation may have been turned off the idea of children—and the idea does scare you in certain respects—but you’ve always been stubborn. “It’d be a chance to prove that it doesn’t have to be that hard. That you didn’t deserve what you went through.”

Fingers graze against yours in a subtle show of kinship. As always, you understand each other. “Exactly.”

And he may be struggling to imagine it, but you can see it so clearly: a small boy with big, brown eyes and a boxy smile riding on Taehyung’s shoulders. The two of them playing in the sand at the beach house or walking down the street together—the boy’s tiny hand tucked safely in his father’s.

The image chokes you up, fills you with so much warmth you think you might burst.

“You’d be an amazing father, Tae.”

There’s not a single doubt in your mind about it—that this incredible, thoughtful, selfless man would also be a wonderful dad. He doesn’t look so sure, but a flicker of recognition passes through him.

“You’ve said that to me once before,” he murmurs.

“I did?”

A nod. “One time when you were drunk junior year.”

You don’t remember it, the memory lost to the alcohol. “I guess drunk me has flashes of brilliance.”

“Maybe we’ll see someday.”

“I hope we will.”

Suddenly nervous, he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing in the long column of his neck. “But it’d have to be with the right person.”

“Has there ever been anyone who you thought was close?”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “You’re asking a disproportionate amount of questions.”

Reaching over, you pull the bottle from his hands, drink down a mouthful of burning liquor, and set it right back in his lap. “Answer.”

Wide eyes appraise you through the dim light; he looks almost impressed. “No.”

“No, there’s never been someone you could see a future with, or no, you won’t answer?”

“The first one,” he says. “I’ve never been with someone I could imagine having kids with.”

You frown, the blunt despondence in his tone cutting. “Not even Luna?”

A look is thrown your way—pursed lips and creased brow telling you that’s a stupid question.

“What happened with her?”

He scoffs, lips immediately wrapping around the bottle as he takes a gulp.

“So something did happen.”

“We broke up,” he states. “That’s what happened.”

“Yeah, but you’ve never said why.”

He shrugs as if it’s no big deal. As if you’ve just asked him what he wants for dinner and not why the longest relationship of his life ended. “We weren’t compatible.”

You can’t help but sigh, a small part of you hurt that he still refuses to talk about it, that he’s closed this part of himself off to you. “You don’t trust me?”

“Y/N, no.” He shakes his head, looking genuinely remorseful to have given you that impression. “That’s not it. It’s just…impossibly complicated—“

“Was it me?” You’re suddenly reminded of a conversation with Maya from weeks ago, when she’d suggested that you were the reason all of Taehyung’s relationships had failed.

His lips part, tongue pushing into his cheek like he’s trying to hold words back.

“It was, wasn’t it?” you push, and his teeth dig into his tongue now, chewing. “You can tell me. I can handle i—“

“You were part of it, yes.”

In spite of what you’ve just said, the words land like a blow. You’ve spent years watching him go through breakup after breakup, and now you find out that you were a source of that anguish all along—helped fuel that heartbreak in his life.

It pains you to think you’ve been holding him back.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” you whisper.

“Because there was nothing to tell. It didn’t matter.”

“It does matter, Tae. If I’m getting in the way of your relationships…I want you to be happy.”

“You make me happy.”

That silences you, the sincerity in his voice leaving you blinking at him, and he continues.

“She didn’t like how close we are—most of them haven’t. But it doesn’t matter because at the end of the day, I’ll always choose you. And that’s the end of it. Nothing left to tell.”

You feel like you should protest this, insist on him putting himself and his future first.

But given similar circumstances, wouldn’t you do the same for him?

“Did Jace ever give you shit about us?” he asks, reading your mind.

He had, ranting about Taehyung that night in some fucked up attempt to explain away why you’d found him in bed with another woman. Before then, you hadn’t noticed the signs: hadn’t picked up on his reluctance to spend time with your friends, hadn’t read into the way he stuck close to your side on the rare occasions he did, a possessive arm always tight around your waist.

It all made sense afterwards, and you hate that the vulnerability and anguish of the moment made you question your own actions. You never would’ve shut Taehyung out—never in a million years—but it initially made you think that maybe if you’d been more attentive towards Jace, had been more sensitive to his feelings, that maybe you wouldn’t have wound up in the situation you did.

You recognize now that he didn’t deserve it in the end, obviously, but heartbreak is a funny thing.

Not wanting to have to admit to any of that out loud, you whisk the bottle from Taehyung’s hands again and drink. He watches the movement of your throat with heavy, knowing eyes, immediately taking the whiskey back for his own sip once you’ve finished.

“I must admit,” he says, the alcohol clearly loosening his tongue as he sags against the headboard. “I’m a little relieved about things ending for you and Jace. Aside from him being a certified douchebag, I mean.”

You frown, not sure where he’s going with this, and the look on your face must come across as offense because he’s quick to clarify.

“Not that I liked seeing you hurt.” He shakes his head, and you can see some anger at the situation still lingering under the surface. “No, never. But I just…now I get to keep you longer at least.”

“Keep me?”

“Yeah, this…” He wags a finger between you. “You know this has to end one day, right?”

The whiskey should be warming, but your veins fill with ice at his words. Losing Jace was one thing. Losing Taehyung would be a different matter entirely.

“You’re always going to have me,” you say, reaching for his pinky.

But he pulls his hand away.

“Not like this.” He smiles with what you assume to be intended comfort, but his entire demeanor is tainted with sadness. “One day, when you have the dream guy and the family and the white picket fence, there won’t be room for me. Not like this.”

It feels like earlier—him trying to paint you a picture of a possible future for you—but unlike earlier, you can’t picture this future. You don’t want it. Not if he’s not there.

“Tae—“

“It’s okay, Y/N.” He gives another sad smile, takes another drink. “No husband is going to want a third wheel hanging around. I understand. I want you to be happy, too.”

But you wouldn’t be happy without him, and in many ways, you’ve always known that to be true. But that knowledge hits you now with such force, such raw truth, that it renders you speechless and leaves you staring at him, drunken eyes laser-focused as if discovering the very center of the universe.

You want to challenge him on his statement, make him see that he’s wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. But the alcohol muddles your thoughts, has your brain dropping half-formed sentences through your mind like Scrabble pieces that you can’t quite wrangle into a coherent thought.

Taehyung takes your silence for agreement and, seeming to suddenly realize that some kind of line has just been crossed, takes the quiet opportunity to flip the conversation back to your game.

“The shoes you gave me for my seventeenth birthday,” he begins, the words tipping out slow and oddly calculated for someone who’s had as much to drink as he has. “Where did the money come from?”

You know where he’s going with this. And it’s perhaps the only secret you’ve kept from him in the entirety of your friendship. “Christmas money, I told you.”

“No, really.”

“Why don’t you believe me?”

“I never saw that house decorated for Christmas even once.”

“Could’ve been from an aunt or uncle.”

“But it wasn’t, was it?”

It wasn’t. You snuck the money out of your father’s desk one day knowing that he wouldn’t have even noticed it was missing. Absent-minded in everything aside from work, your father had misplaced things constantly. You drink. And even though it’s supposed to be an avoidance of the question, it gives him his answer.

“I knew it.”

“They weren’t going to miss it, and you needed it more.”

“You could’ve gotten in so much trouble.”

“I knew I wouldn’t. I didn’t. And it was worth the risk regardless.”

Looking back, you wish you’d had more of a fear of getting caught—wish your parents would’ve scolded you, screamed at you, anything. It would’ve been better than the indifference you’d been met with day in and day out. As if you were invisible.

Taehyung’s head swings from side-to-side. “You shouldn’t have. I would’ve been okay.”

“And you shouldn’t have punched Jace in that club, but you did anyway, didn’t you?”

“That’s different.”

“It’s not. You’re not the only one who gets to put your ass on the line for the people you care about. You were worth the risk.”

He blinks, regarding you as if you’ve presented him with some outlandish concept. Like you’ve asked him to explain rocket science or open-heart surgery. “Then you should’ve told me then.”

“You would’ve given them back.”

“Maybe, but then at least we would’ve been in it together instead of you lying to me.”

“And you’ve never lied to me?”

He hesitates, tongue tracing his bottom lip. “No.”

“Okay, then. Truth or drink: what’s the worst lie you’ve ever told?”

You know there must be one, can read it in the way his shoulder is suddenly pressed against yours as he tilts into you. Fingertips skim the bare skin of your knee, tentative in their movements, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath as the distance between you closes to mere centimeters, his gaze roaming your face and snagging on your mouth.

And you feel it—the pull that you’ve always felt towards him, the gravitational force that’s kept you in the same orbit since you were children. Two souls that intertwined the moment they sensed the other’s presence with a flash of awareness and said, You, you, you.

Thinking back on the entirety of your life, you don’t know how you possibly could have made it through without him: your best friend, your partner, your sanctuary. In such a volatile world—a turbulent youth marred by uncertainty and sorrow—he took your hand and held you steady, made sure you didn’t go through it alone.

In hindsight, you can’t truly regret it. Yes, there will always be a part of you that will resent your parents, wish that they would have loved you enough to spare you the hurt and stress they put you through. But just like the night when he brought you back to your apartment—held you close as you fell asleep in his embrace—your memories with him far outweigh the trauma you endured. When you think of your time spent growing up, he is by far the brightest star, outshining any darkness that may have lingered at the corners. It’s not the empty house or your parents’ stony faces that you think of first, but him: blanket forts and starry nights and walks in the park and blurry photographs and sometimes tears, sure, but only with him there to hold you.

Looking at this man in front of you, in every familiar line of his face and body, you know, without a crumb of doubt, that you’d do it all again. Screw Jace and Luna and your parents and anyone else who’s expressed disdain at your closeness with him. He’s written into every line of your history, every memory that’s worth something. And he may fight you on it, but he’s worth every risk you’ve ever taken—you would’ve stolen a thousand pairs of shoes for him. You’d move mountains and drain the oceans if he needed you to. You’d do anything.

You couldn’t live without him. You don’t want to live without him.

A moment of clarity, a wave of revelation as you lock eyes and are met with your favorite color. And at long last, you find the words.

I love you.

Your heart throws itself off a cliff…

And you lean in to press your lips to his.

a/n: happy holidays to all who celebrate 😊

#taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #taehyung imagines #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #taehyung #bts fic #bts fanfic

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siriustaylorsversion · 1 year

Note

A Taylor Swift x reader social media au PLEASE! I know that you're a swiftie so maybe the release of midnights with songs being about the reader and the reader also being a singer. face claim- selena gomez?

oh my god!! i have the best idea and as always... taylena>>>> requests open enjoy!

PART 2 PART 3 PART 4

𝖘𝖍𝖊'𝖘 𝖆𝖑𝖜𝖆𝖞𝖘 𝖔𝖜𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝖒𝖞 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙

taylorswift

taylorswift Midnights, the stories of 13 sleepless nights scattered throughout my life, will be out October 21. Meet me at midnight. liked by yourname.official, blakelively and 8,135,006 others.

yourname.official i say that's my baby and i'm proud 🥺

taylorswift 💕 forever.more their friendship >>>>>> tay.y/nslover they are my favorite thing in the whole world istg!

blakelively i heard it before you did ;)

yourname.official i was there DURING the process y/n_sink wait they were toGETHER?! sadist.sinks oh my god, I'M HEALED

tomholland2013 you guys did not just hear the scream that @yourname.official just scrumpt.....

y/n.official it'S TS10 STFU- tay.y/nforevermore they're like siblings 😭

yourname.official

yourname.official i am so so honoured to be able to say that i will be featuring in a song with my heart (my hips, my body, my love) @taylorswift... trust me, you're all not ready for this. remember it. october 21st. liked by taylorswift, zendaya and 5,09,800 others.

taylorswift this has to be my favorite song... not only because it is the best on the album but because it has the most talented artist i've ever met in my life...

yourname.official i loVE YOU- forever.more the MUSIC INDUSTRY called it the best song? okay, HOW LONG IS OCTOBER 21ST GONNA TAKE??!! SHEAKWDBGJEDBEFKJSHF

blakelively new favorite song???

tomholland2013 you've bribed her haven't you? YOU? BEST SONG?

yourname.official oh hush, you're just jealous. zendaya atleast she figured out how you get the girl... y/n.sink wHOT?

e!news

e!news "she's my best friend, and means the most to me in the world... being able to make music with her would be the greatest blessing ever i mean, she's TAYLOR SWIFT, i guess everyone has a girl crush on her!" - y/n y/l/n, 2019

"oh she's my favorite person in the world, she owns my heart. i love her so so much... i could never have come here without her."

" i am so so honoured to be able to say that i will be featuring in a song with my heart (my hips, my body, my love)" - y/n y/l/n, 2022 liked by taylorswift, sabrinacarpenter and 1,09,800 others.

e!news after zendaya teased a 'how you get the girl' lyric in the comments of y/n y/l/n's new post, fans have lost it thinking the former best friends of more than a decade have finally taken a step forward.

taylorswift

taylorswift this is the BIGGEST thank you to all the people who've helped me in these past few years... jack, aaron, blake, ryan, gigi, mom, dad, olivia, merideth,benji, y/n and all the others who've stayed with me and supported me. midnights is officially out and i love you all so much! enjoy...

yourname.official oh my god, look at my talented gf 😌

forever.more GIRLFRIEND????????? blakelively oh, finally!! tomholland2013 taylorswift her?! taylorswift zendaya him?!

ememyers Can we talk abt her eyes?😭 or better her everything?😭💗

costataylorsversion omg i feel like a proud mom???????

snehit.13 more like she and y/n.official are our moms.... yourname.official okay, idk how that's so funny but exciting at the same time??!!

forever.more

forever.more Y/N CALLED BLONDIE HER WIFE IS THIS THE CONFIRMATION WE SO DESPERATELY NEEDED??? p.s. did you like midnights? (I'M IN LOVE WITH IT) liked by e!news, taylorswift and 300,405 others.

donna'sversion icons, queens, lovers everything and more!!!!!!!!

costataylorsversion 🧣💕💕🥺💘

ememyers Just heard it on a plane….. damn it was so raw and so honest!

satanicmoosic LOVE THIS DUO THEY'RE EVERYTHING OH MY GOD MY HEART IS GONNA BURST SWEET NOTHING?? MAROON?? SERENDIPITY?? THEY REACHED RIGHT INTO MY CHEST AND PULLED MY HEART OUT.

taylorswift

taylorswift didn't read the note on the polaroid picture... they don't know how much i miss her... liked by yourname.official, blakelively and 7,90,600 others. comments on this post have been limited

yourname.official

yourname.official if you kiss me would it be just like i dreamed it? will it patch your broken wings? liked by taylorswift, tomholland2013 and 5,09,080 others.

comments on this post have been limited.

part 2? maybe more for the tour? idk...

have a good day <33

#taylor nation #tayor swift #taylor swift x reader #taylor x reader #smau #selena gomez #selena gomez x reader #taylena #taylor swift x selena gomez #taylor swift #celebrity #taylor swift x fem!reader #siriustaylorsversion

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daisyblog · 4 months

Text

Comfort Zone

My Drummer Masterlist Summary: YN opens Wembley Night 1.

Based on this request.

"Have fun out there, baby!". Harry smiles as he watches YN fiddle with her in ears.

Harry had given each member of the Love Band a chance to open one of his Wembley shows. YN was opening tonight's show, the first one at Wembley. They're both standing backstage, minutes before YN is due to walk out on stage.

Taking a deep breath, to calm her never ending nerves, YN shyly smiles up at Harry's taller frame. "Thank you, gorgeous! Are you going to be watching?".

"Of course I'm going to be watching my girl!". He leaves YN to go with a bunch of kisses and 'I love you's'. Harry makes his way through the hallways of the stadium to an area where he could watch YN perform. Jeff, Brad and other members of the band joining him.

Mitch and Sarah follow YN out to the large stage as YN's introduction video plays, Mitch heading towards his guitar and Sarah finding her new position in YN's regular place.

"Hello Wembley!". She greets the large crowd who roars with cheers, as YN stands at the front of the stage. "I'm YN and I'm so happy to be able to perform for you this evening.".

There's loud screams and fans jumping and running around in the pit area, and from her place on the stage she can see that Harry is stood behind one of the barriers.

"Before we start tonight, I'd like to explain something.". YN's grip on the microphone loosens slightly as she becomes less nervous. "I'm usually sat back there, behind the drums.". The crowd roared once again. "But Harry said I need to get out of my comfort zone...try something new.". YN let out a little giggle, when she heard a loud whistle that she knew came from her boyfriends lips. "So that mean't no drum playing.". A loud boo came from a few fans at the front barricade, making YN laugh. "But can we give a big cheer for Sarah who I've been teaching how to play just so she could play for me this evening!".

---

"Uh…the first song I’m gonna sing is called ‘Never Loved Anyone Before’” There was a mixture of awe’s and cheers from the fans. “It’s a bit raw…but it’s about loving someone special, who’s supported you through your hardest times.”.

Sometimes I think I was born on the day that I met you Spent all of my days, all my nights praying you never let me go I hate to admit that I still got some shit from my fucked up past But you've managed to break down my walls

You love me so much, it gave me enough Enough to finally have the guts to love myself Thought that I'd been deep, yeah, I could've sworn But everything you are to me is so much more You made me realise that I've never loved anyone before You made me realise that I've never loved anyone before

The only complaint that I got is that I'm fucking scared now The fact that with you, I have so much to lose, got me terrified And if the world ends, and it pulls us apart then you know I promise To find you wherever you are

Harry watched and listened at the words. It was the first time hearing YN sing the song she had secretly written. It caused a lump in his throat as the lyrics pulled on his heart strings. YN was known to hide behind her feelings but tonight she had allowed a whole stadium know how she felt. A smile appeared on Harry’s face, the proudness he felt shining through.

---

“Okay…Wembley! The next one I’m gonna sing is ‘This Is The Life’ by Amy Macdonald…I’ve seen a lot of you use this one on TikTok for some of the shows and I want you all to sing and dance!”.

Oh, the wind whistles down The cold dark street tonight And the people, they were dancing To the music vibe

And the boys chase the girls with curls in their hair While the shy tormented youth sit way over there And the songs get louder each one better than before

And you're singing the songs thinking this is the life And you wake up in the morning and your head feels twice the size Where you gonna go, where you gonna go, where you gonna sleep tonight? And you're singing the songs thinking this is the life And you wake up in the morning and your head feels twice the size Where you gonna go, where you gonna go, where you gonna sleep tonight? Where you gonna sleep tonight?

So you're heading down the road in your taxi for four And you're waiting outside Jimmy's front door But nobody's in and nobody's home 'til 4 So you're sitting there with nothing to do Talking about Robert Riger and his motley crew And where you gonna go, where you gonna sleep tonight?

Harry was in awe at how effortlessly his girl sang and how her confidence was growing each minute. He watched at how the fans were all in their own bubbles singing and dancing along. He was even more surprised to see YN take the mic and join the fans with some dance moves. He let out a big cheer and joined in, dancing along with Jeff and Brad.

---

“I want to thank you all for joining me tonight.”. YN began to speak into the mic. “I have enjoyed every moment and I’d like to sing one last song for you…this one’s a special song to me for so many different reasons…one being if I hadn’t have posted me singing this one…I’m not sure I would be standing right here now…please sing along, here’s The Chain!”.

Listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise Running in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies

And if you don't love me now You will never love me again I can still hear you saying You would never break the chain

YN couldn’t help but smile to herself as she heard the crowd sing the famous Fleetwood Mac lyrics back to her.

And if you don't love me now You will never love me again I can still hear you saying You would never break the chain

“Thank you Wembley! See you later!”. YN thanked the crowd before running off the stage into Harry’s arms.

“I’m so proud of you!” Harry held her close to him, placing his lips on hers in a quick kiss.

“Thank you for believing in me!” YN gave him a big grin, still feeling the buzz from performing.

“Always!”. He promised.

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mustainegf · 17 days

Note

JAMES HETFIELD STUDENT TEACHER SMUT PLEASEE 🙏🙏🙏

How’d you know I already had this written?? 🤭

Music theory was my favorite college class. You could say it was for my passion for music, or my love for craft. Or maybe it was my strikingly handsome professor.

I was always in the front row, and he was always standing behind his desk. He had a way of talking that made me feel like I was the only one in the room.

Professor Hetfield. He was 40, with a handsome face and a muscular body. I preferred to say his name though, James. He was a handsome man.

The class had been going on for two months now, and I'd only ever heard him speak about the subject. I didn't know anything about his personal life, or what he did outside of school.

After class, I'd sit and wait for him to finish his work. He was always busy grading papers or prepping for the next class. When he finished, he'd walk over to me and we'd talk about what we had just learned.

"I'm glad you're enjoying the class. You have a lot of potential." He said one day after class. "Thanks, Professor,"I replied. "Call me James outside of school." He said with a smile. "Okay, James." I said with a smile. Before I could leave, he asked me to stay behind. "Hun, can I talk to you for a minute?" He asked. "Sure." I replied.

He walked over and sat down next to me on the desk in front of his papers. "I've noticed you sitting in the front row every day. You seem to be very interested in the subject." He said. "I am, it's my favorite class." I replied.

"I'm glad to hear that. I have a proposition for you." He said. "What is it?" I asked. "I want to give you private lessons, just the two of us." He said with a smile. "Oh?" l asked."Yes, I’d like to teach you some things that I can't teach in class." He said.

"What kind of things?" I asked. "Things that will help you understand the subject better." He said with a smile. "I'd love to." I said.

"Great, we can start tomorrow after class." He said with a smile. Professor Hetfield walked in and stood behind his desk. "We could start now" I said softly. "What?" He asked. "I said we could start now." I said with a smile. "Someone's impatient." He said with a grin.

"Professor? Is it really grading papers what you want me to do?" I slipped my gaze down his figure. James nonchalantly adjusted his jeans. He sat down in his seat, leaning back with an exhale. His gaze was fixated on me.

He dropped the playful banter as he came to realize I understood what he was getting at. "Come here." He commanded, his tone changing.

Nervously, I swallowed, walking around his desk to stand in front of him in his seat. James watched me contently. "On your knees, now." He said, his voice low and soft.

I knelt down in front of him, my eyes glued to his crotch. I could see the outline of his cock through his jeans. “Don’t be scared, I know what you wanna do,” James teased, tucking some of my hair behind my ear.

I reached out and ran my hand over the bulge, my breath hitching. "Take it out." He said, his voice husky. I nervously unzipped his jeans and pulled them down, revealing a pair of boxer briefs that were straining to contain his hard cock.

I giggled softly, which seemed to get him off. I hooked my fingers into the waistband and pulled them down, freeing his cock. It was big, about 8 inches long and thick.

I wrapped my hand around it and started stroking it slowly. "That's it." He said, his voice low and husky. I looked up at him, my eyes meeting his.

Something about his lust filled eyes drove me crazy, and I could feel my clit pulse.

"Use your mouth sweetheart." He said with a smirk. I opened my mouth and took his cock in, running my tongue over the head.

"Oh fuck." He moaned, his hand coming to rest on the back of my head. I started bobbing my head up and down, taking more of him into my mouth. "That's it, suck that cock." He said, his voice low and husky.

I moaned around his cock as I continued to suck him off.

"I never knew you were such a dirty girl." He said, his hand tightening in my hair. I moaned again, taking more of his cock into my mouth.

James impatiently forced my face down as far as it could go. I choked for a moment, catching my breath. "Good job..." He groaned, allowing me to sit my head back up to regain myself.

I took a breath, letting the saliva drip from my mouth onto his tip. He let out a sigh as I bobbed him in my mouth again.

"You're going to make me cum." He said, his voice low and husky. I moaned around his cock, sucking him harder.

"Fuck... I'm cumming!" He groaned, his hand tightening in my hair as he came down my throat. I swallowed his load, savoring the taste.

"Fuck..." He said, his hand releasing my hair. I sat back on my heels, looking up at him with a smile. "You're a good girl." He said with a smirk.

"Thank you, professor." I said with a smile. "Don't thank me yet." He said with a smirk. He stood up and walked around his desk, grabbing my hips and pulling me over it. "Up against the desk." He said, his voice determined. I did as he said, my hands resting on the desk. He pulled my skirt up over my ass and pulled down my panties.

"You can do better than that, pretty." He said with a smirk, pushing my face down onto his desk. I felt his hands on my ass, spreading my cheeks. "Fuck... you're so wet." He said with a smirk.

"What a bad Girl. Sex with your professor? Such a dirty girl aren't you?" He said with a smirk. "Yes, professor." I said with a moan.

I felt his cock against my entrance. James grabbed my waist with his free hand, pushing into me with a shove. "Fuck! Professor!" I moaned, my body shuddering. He showed me no mercy as his thrusts were already quick. His hand on my back to keep me down.

"Fuck... you're so tight." He said with a groan. I clenched my eyes shut, my face smushed against the desk as he used me as he pleased.

My g spot was pretty much being abused. "You like that sweetheart?" James grunted. "Yes, professor." I moaned. He squeezed my ass hard.

"Fuck... you're so good for me." He said with a groan. Without warning, the feeling left as James pulled out. "Turn around." He growled. I sat up, turning to look at him.

James swiftly lifted me up, plopping me down on top of his desk. I laid back on the paper littered desk. He pushed me down so that my ass was on the edge of his desk.

"Open your legs." He said with a smirk. I did as he said, spreading my legs wide for him. James hastily grabbed me, pushing back inside of me.

I let out a loud pornographic moan, my head falling back. Once I had collected myself, I tightly wrapped my legs around his waist. I couldn't believe what was happening.

I watched him clench his eyes shut as my own professor roughly took me.

"Ahh, fuck…” I whispered, hearing stray papers and assignments falling to the floor. I felt his hands on my hips, pulling me towards him as he thrust into me.

"Fuck... you're so tight." He groaned, his voice low and husky.

I moaned, feeling my orgasm building up inside of me. "Oh, oh…" I moaned, my eyes rolling back. "Cum for me." He said with a smirk.

"Fuck... professor..." I moaned, my body shuddering as I came all over his cock. He let out a growl as he continued to fuck me through my orgasm.

"You can take it, I'm not ready to stop yet" He groaned, shaking his head to get the long hair out of his eyes. "You look so good when you cum" James choked out. "James please it's too much!" I begged, the overstimulation was shaking me to my core.

"You want me to cum? don't you?" He asked coldly. "Yes…" I pleaded. "Then you’ll wait..." He said with a smirk. He continued to use me, it was beginning to hurt a bit, but it felt so good. I couldn't say no to him, I wanted to see him get off.

James pulled out in seconds, grabbing my arms and pulling me hastily off of the desk. "On your knees, now, quick." He demanded. I dropped to my knees, my eyes locked on his cock.

"Open your mouth." He said with a smirk. I did as he said, opening my mouth wide for him. "You're such a good girl." He said with a smirk, his hand wrapping around the back of my head. I watched as he jerked himself off, aiming for my mouth.

"Open wider." He said with a smirk. I did as he said, opening my mouth wide for him. I felt his cock against my tongue, then the warm salty taste of his cum.

"Swallow it." He said with a smirk. I did as he asked, swallowing down every drop of his seed for the second time.

"Fuck... you're so good for me." He said with a smirk, "You can't tell anyone about this." He uttered, brushing his thumb past my cheek as he intently looked down on me.

"I won't." I said with a smile. "Good girl." He said, reaching down and giving my ass a squeeze before he walked away from me towards his desk to grab some tissues for himself.

"Why don't you come to my place? I think I might have some more work for you to do." James eyed me sharply.

I couldn't believe what he was saying. "I don't know..." I said, biting my lip. "Why not?" He asked with a smirk. "Well... I don't want to get in trouble." I said with a shrug.

"Oh, you won't." He said with a smirk, "I'll make sure of it." I nodded, biting my lip. "Okay…" I said with a smile. Leaving hun with a soft kiss.

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daddypriceugh · 6 months

Text

Mr. And Mrs. Mactavish

*************************

I saw that you guys want fluff so I'm giving you fluff :)

I will maybe upload another fic today, if I don't fall asleep (it's 10:30 pm here)

Anyway enjoy this one <3

Tw: nothing just fluff

*************************

Today is the day you've never thought would come. It just always seemed unreal. But here you are, standing in your wedding dress in front of the church door waiting for the music to announce your entrance.

Your nerves are playing wild and your body feels on fire. What if you trip? What if he changes his mind? What if-

"Are you alright?"

A voice interrupts your thoughts. You look to your left to see John Price standing next to you, with a worried look on his face.

" Yeah I'm fine. Just nervous"

He nods in understanding and takes your hands in his.

"Trust me it's gonna be okay. Hell don't worry about him changing his mind, I've never seen someone that wipped for a girl before" he says while laughing at the last part.

A chuckle escapes your throat, which then tightens again when you heard the music start playing.

"Ok ok no panic (Y/N)" you tell yourself, trying to calm down.

You take a deep breath and nod at John, giving your ok to enter the church. He smiles at you and links his arm with yours.

You tear up at the gesture, knowing that your father would have loved to walk you down the aisle.

John had become like a father figure to you -even though he's not that much older- and you're more than grateful that he said yes to walking you into your new chapter of life.

The heavy doors open and you can see the guests standing up at the sound, all of them turning their heads to see the bride.

You take one step after another, gripping John's hand in yours. Looking around you see familiar faces like your mother and some aunts, but the most important person to you was standing at the altar.

Turning your head you lock eyes with him. Time seems to slow down as you take i the sight of him. Damn does he looks handsome. His mohawk was freshly cut and he wore a new black suit with a red tie.

It may look like a unoriginal outfit, but to you it is perfect.

A smiles forms on your face when you stand directly in front of him. John hands him your hand over and shoots a threatening look. It was the "if you ever hurt her I will personally kill you" look.

Before leaving to go to Johnny's man in honor side to stand next to Gaz and Ghost, he gives you a small kiss on your forehead, whispering "I'm proud of you" against it.

Now it was just Johnny and you. Two people that love each other more than words can describe.

The pastor says the usual things but you hear nothing. You just stare into your soon-to-be-husbands eyes, and you could swear to see tears swelling in them.

The pastor speaks up.

"It is now time for the vows"

You take a deep breath and start talking:

"Johnny, I have loved you since the moment I saw you. It was the way you introduced yourself, the way you saved my ass on many missions, it was the way you held me after my father died and it were the many things in-between. You made and still make my life perfect. I finally found a reason to life and I'm glad I get to spend the time with you. You are perfect in any way imaginable. I love you dearly and I will stay by your side in good and bad times"

Your voice cracks midway, tears streaming down your face. But it seems that your fiancé feels the same way. He doesn't hide his emotions anymore embraces the tears.

It was no his turn and he grabs your right hand and puts it on his heart.

"Dearie, you absolutely make me the happiest man alive. I'm blessed to wake up with you next to me evey day. I can't think of something better anymore. I love the way you laugh at all my stupid jokes that I tell the Lieutenant. It seems that his skull is too thick to understand our humour"

Laughter goes through the room, even Simon chuckles at the mentioning of his name.

"I love everything about you and that will never stop. Even after my death. I love you from the bottom of my heart."

You smile at him and place your hand on his cheek.

The pastor raises his hands and announces the moments you have been waiting for.

"I now announce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride"

Not waiting a second longer, Johnny pulls you by your waist and presses his lips to yours. Applause rings through the crowd and people cheer.

The kiss doesn't last long but it's perfect. Johnny then suddenly lifts you up and carries you towards the exit, and your friends and family follow.

Time skip:

The evening goes smooth. People are laughing and having fun. You are currently sitting on your husbands lap after having danced to two songs.

Head laying on his shoulder while you're admiring him, tracing every scar with your thumb.

"And how does it feel to be married"

"Feels incredible my darlin'. Absolutely the best feeling ever" You hum in response looking up to him. He catches your stare and smiles.

"I hope you won't grow tired of me Mr. Mactavish"

"I would never in my life. I promise you that Mrs. Mactavish"

You laugh and move you face to his to meet in a kiss. This time it's more passionate, full of love and excitement for what the future holds.

#cod x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty #cod fluff #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john mctavish x reader

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misshoneysplayhouse · 1 year

Text

Wine Pon You| h.zoe

since the new episode has us hange fans in distress, i have to bless you all with this, i cant get them out of my head and ofc you know i'm higher than a horse dick rn so enjoy, i'm so glad i'm attracting more hange lovers to my page I love yall frl.

song list for this cuz.....babyyyyy my playlist did justice fa meeeee

Remember You- By Wiz Khalifa ft the Weeknd

Wine Pon You- By Doja Cat

Too Deep- dvsn

CW: dom!hange, thigh riding, oral(f!receiving) orgasm denial, backshots pet names (Princess, doll, pretty girl) spitting is mentioned dacryphilia, overstimulation, fingering, riding and just nasty talking in general, Hange is very vocal

The sounds of heels could be heard behind you, there were girls frantically running around, drenched in anticipation as the big news flooded through the locker room. You could be found in front of your vanity mirror, brushing the finishing touches and making sure your outfit was on just right.

Being a stripper wasn't exactly the life path you had set course for but the fast money became addicting, almost making close to 1 to 2,000 dollars a night, the endless drinks and hot ass people with pockets heavier than the smoke in the building, you couldn't stop now.

But tonight was big, Eren the club's owner had told the you all that the city's biggest bachelor Levi was gonna be in the building along with his whole entourage and that he needed the baddest heifers on the floor!

When he mentioned that, you instantly came to mind, you were a fan favorite in the club which caused a lot of drama to stir up in the lockerroom. That included the ugly stares, the pathetic attempts to steal and take from your money pile, and one thing you didn't play about was your money!

Getting up from the mirror you looked at the text Eren had sent saying to meet him in his office so you snuck your money bag behind it and switched your way up the stairs, hearing the teeth sucking and smart ass remarks from the other girls.

"There she is, my pretty little money maker.." He smiles, watching your body walk in, eyes flickering towards your chest.

"You called me up here for what? It better not be what I think it is." You spoke with a smile, rolling your eyes.

"No good luck kiss tonight, got it." He laughed. "But no, I just learned that Hange, the CEO of Zoe Productions is gonna be with Levi tonight and instead of putting your focus on him, I want you on Hange." He begins, pulling the blunt hanging on his ear to light it.

"Hange? I've never heard of them so they can't be that big." You joked.

"Oh but they are, so don't half ass, they aren't some old geezer- matter of fact, I'll let you see for your own eyes, they just pull up." He smirks, looking at his phone while smokes blows from his nose.

"Yeah, yeah i guess i'll be the judge of them." You chuckle, not taking a single word he said seriously.

He follows you out of his office while you turned one way and he went the other, there were already rumors of you and him fucking and messing around so you didn't want to be caught coming out of his office together to fuel the fire.

the music blasted throughout the building as yoou walked around, skimming the area to find the so called CEO so you could get a good idea on how to drain their pockets dry. The place was packed but you expected nothing less on a Friday night.

After spending a minute too long looking for them, you decided to rack up a few small lap dances in the meantime, you saw one of your coworkers heading towards a huge group of people but you couldn't make out the surprisingly tall figure.

That's when you felt an arm pull you away from the huge crowd, you recognized the cologne and sucked your teeth when you made eye contact with Eren.

"The hell you yanking me up like a toddler for?"

"I don't have time for the complaints, I need you on stage, Sasha sprained her ankle and all the girls are stuck on trying to get into Levi's section. You know how to make a show.." He pleaded.

"Hange will get a better look at you on stage, which will definitely make them call you to the champagne room, and that's the kinda money we need tonight." He went on.

You started to ponder for a slight second, finally agreeing to step on the stage, you weren't foreign to the stage since that's how you started out, you grew your fanbase from it so tonight wouldn't be any different.

I'm currently playing Remember You by Wiz Khalifa and The Weeknd, and umm..I just came everywhere..it'll definitely enhance this whole scene

"If i could have yall's attention,I have a beautiful woman coming out to peform and I want all eyes to the stage, she needs no introduction and hopefully she'll show me a thing or two tonight after this.." Connie starts in the mic, lowering the music.

"Coming to the stage, The devious Miss(S/N)!"

The music flooded your ears as Connie had the speakers in the building at max, the bass thudding through your chest and the lights dimmed to show a cool purple LED like light behind you, almost like the people were watching your shadow.

You started your set, slow and sinfully teasing the crowd by starting on the floor of the stage, you could feel a certain set of eyes on your body out of the hundreds of eyes on you. It felt hot, almost burning with pleasure and you wanted to find its source.

You hooked your leg around the pole, twirling around and climbing up to continue on with your set, spreading your legs wide as you spun around.

The feeling of the bills falling on your skin was like your own personal drug, and tonight you felt as if you were in a shower, yeah Fridays night were packed but this felt off. You dropped down from the pole into a split looking into the crowd, that's when you found the burning eyes staring a hole in you.

Hange.

Wearing a grey suit with the jacket hanging on their shoulders, a black wife beater with a single link gold chain hanging from their neck and a cigar between their slender fingers. You expected some old, 50 year old with a few strands of hair on their head, your mind scrambled up once your eyes connected with theirs.

They were leaning back in the chair, legs spread apart like a slut and their hair in half up half down style. They push up their glasses with their middle finger, adjusting their sitting position by pushing their hips up, leaning forwards towards the stage.

You took this opportunity to "interact" with your fans, crawling towards them to get a better look at what you were dealing with. You've dealt with attractive customers before but this might need a bit more self control.

They had a scar on the left eye, slashing through their eye brow and pretty rings decorated on theirs fingers, you notice them pull out a big band of cash, pulling out a 100 dollar bill and slipping it in your bralette.

You bite your lip, taking the bill and sliding it down to put it on the side of your thong, they take another bill and place it on the other side watching your body move as you went to the other side. You couldn't linger for long or show too much favoritism, no matter how good they looked, your only mission was to tease them long enough to get them in the room.

Once you finished up the lights went back to black and you rushed backstage all the way to the locker room to change and freshen up, you wet up your bottoms on stage and because you knew it was a matter of time before Hange requested you.

You chose a green outfit this time with your breasts sitting out perfectly and the tallest heels you could walk in, heading back into the crowd.

Right on cue, Eren comes up to send you the back and usually you were quick to go ahead and get it over with but you hesitated for a second.

"Whatever happens in the champagne room stays in the champagne room" was the sign that hung over the hallway of the rooms, you could feel two heartbeats colliding with each other as you found the number of the room. You had to get yourself together, this was just another client, another business person to drain and nothing to get yourself worked up on.

But all of your common sense flew out of the window as you walked inside. They were standing tall, pouring two glasses of champagne and handing one to you as you closed the door.

"Thank you.." You said, following them as they called you over with one finger.

"I've heard so much about you..I needed to see for myself if all the talk was true.." They started as they patted their lap, signaling you to straddle them.

You obeyed as you took a sip from your glass, a small smirk forming in the corner of your lips.

"Funny enough, I haven't heard much about you, is that intentional?" You asked, pretending to adjust yourself as you felt a bulge right on your core, you mentally widened your eyes since you weren't expecting them to be this hard.

"For my line of work it is, from what the public knows I own a movie production studio, and that's all they need to know." They smirked, their thumb in the crease of your thighs and their fingers on your ass pushing your hips to slightly create friction

"So you do porn?" You said, adding everything together while still subconsciously bucking your hips a little faster, hoping they wouldn't notice but it looked a little too late.

"And I'm looking at my new project as we speak.." They smirked, finishing the glass with their eyes slowly fucking your body while pushing their hips up, making you gasp.

"I'm not doing anything I don't get paid for.." You spat, looking directly into their eyes, both of your faces just inches away.

"You don't have to worry about that, I'd personally pay you...you wouldn't be fucking anyone doll, you'd be fucking me...I want you to be my personal pornstar princess.." They spoke, their voice warm and hushed, sending a line of chills down your spine.

Biting your lip you moved your hips faster, with both of Hange's hands attached guiding you perfectly.

"Show me how nasty you really are.." They continued, placing kisses up and down the middle of your chest still keeping the eye contact while they slipped a nipple in their mouth.

You finally dropped the shy girl act and took Hange's hand off your hip, moving it exactly where you needed it to be, they slide the thin piece of fabric to the side, your sticky fluids dripping out of you as their finger eases it way inside, practically sucking it in.

"You talk too much.." You mumble, letting a few moans escape from your throat as they add another, curling their fingers and hitting your g-spot like they knew your body. A large groan followed next when their speed increased.

"You usually get this wet with all your clients?" They smugly ask, ignoring the smart remark, with their fingers speeding up purposely so you couldn't form a single sentence.

"I-I dont-"

"Shhh, shh princess, let your body talk for me." They teased, listening to the nasty squelching sounds coming from your soaked pussy, you could feel your stomach tighten up, and the palm of their hand rubbing your clit, you heard yourself whimper before covering your mouth with your hands.

You felt a bit embarrassed that you were so close from you both doing barely anything, but you couldn't care it felt too fucking good to hold back. Just as soon as you mentally let go, they pull out of you causing you to whine from the empty feeling.

"Why'd you stop? You knew I was cl-"

They shut you up by shoving their soaked fingers into your mouth, watching you suckle on them with strings of saliva forming on your lips.

"I knew you were close, only a nasty bitch like you can clamp down on my fingers like that..on your stomach for me." They spoke, palming themselves watching you arch your back on the elongated couch.

Being the nasty slut you were, you shook your ass in anticipation spreading your pussy lips and rubbing your swollen clit thinking you were finna get stuffed full of dick. Your whole body shivered as you felt the warm wetness from their tongue licking a stripe from your clit to your quivering cunt.

Their tongue easily sliding in between your folds, sucking you like they wanted to drain you entirely. Your eyes crossed when they spat on your pussy, watching it drip down, rubbing it in with their hand, sticking their thumb in and out of you just to tease.

"You like eating me like a bitch in heat?"

"Just as much as you like screaming like one.." They replied, wrapping their lips back in the same spot, flicking and swirling their tongue as their hands joined in, pumping in and out.

"Oh god, fuckkk...please! I'm cumming! I'm- HANGE!" You screamed out, your body shakes with your cunt squirting fluids all over the couch, not realizing you slipped up and said their name.

"Such a pretty mess you made..and I thought you didn't know too much about me.." Hange mocked, cleaning you up and slapping your thighs to keep you from squirming, you felt your stomach in multiple knots from the sensitivity. "Didn't take you to be a squirter.."

"Me either.." You mumbled, trying to get your head together. But Hange gave you no time for that. Gripping you by the back of your neck they pulled you up, turning your head around for a sloppy kiss.

You normally don't kiss clients but your head was so fogged up and full of them that those rules went out of the question, you'd just have to deal with the lecture later.

You felt them suck your face off in the most disrespectful way possible, sucking on your tongue and biting your lower lip. You couldn't help but moan in their mouth kindly returning the nasty favor.

By now you're completely naked, with them wearing nothing but the black wifebeater and grey dress pants that surely ended up on the floor next. You felt them pick you up, the coldness of a wall on your back and the tip of something poking at your throbbing cunt.

Your legs were in no shape to be fucked against the wall but Hange didn't want to hear a single complaint.

"I'll hold you together, doll, just fall apart in my hands for me..make those pretty sounds like you did before.." They your body whispered in your ear, holding your legs up with their tatted forearms like you were pure putty in their hands, thrusting into you.

You could feel yourself stretching out by the inch as they pound into you, their hair all disheveled with slight moans escaping their throat, feeling you clamp them like a vice.

"Why are you so fucking wet? This all for me doll, hm?" They growled, marking your neck with bruises and bites.

"It's all for you, it's all for you- fuck! Don't stop, please I swear i'm gonna cum all over this dick.."

"That's right princess, talk to me while i'm inside of you..tell me what you want.." Hange egged on.

"I want you to punish me, I wanna squirt all over you and make a fucking mess, Hange fuck me..pleasee." You pleaded, wrapping your legs around them with all the strength you could find, with tears prickling in the corners of your eyes, you were so fucking close.

Hange noticed the tears falling from your face and watched the mascara stain your face, kissing your stained cheeks with a toothy smirk.

"You look so fucking pretty like this..on your knees..hurry up." They panted, pulling out of you while you quickly got on the floor, they followed behind you, smacking your ass while you shook your hips to rub against them.

Pushing back inside, you both groan out with pleasure as Hange continues with the same pace as before, their hands pulling you in deeper.

"You feel so fucking good, s'good..i'm gonna cum all over that pretty face.." They grumbled, rutting into you.

"Please cum in me Hange, PLEASE! Fuck me just like that..just like that baby!" You groaned out, spreading yourself open so they could really hit your shit, you could feel them in the pit of your stomach, repeatedly hitting that spongy spot inside of you, that familiar feeling crept back in and crashed hard, with you letting out a loud scream.

"I'm not done just yet princess, give me one more pretty girl, please?" Hange cooed to you as they fucked you through the shivering orgasm, you swore you started to see stars.

"I know you can doll, just breathe for me." Hange went on, spitting on their hand and rubbing small circles on your clit. You whine from the sensitivity as your legs shake violently, the tears were flowing at this point but you couldn't help why you and your body wanted more.

"I want more of it...fuck..please cum inside of me Hange.." You begged once more, turning your hips up to push back without their help.

"Ouu shit, just like that princess..fuck me back then.." Hange swore, biting their lower lip as they lifted up their shirt, leaning back a bit to watch your ass move up and down on them and listening to your pussy squelch.

Hard smacks to your ass echoed in the room, as their voice escalated to a whimper as you picked up your pace, they finally let you take over and you wanted to pull all your tricks out to prove a point.

"Like that baby? This pussy sucking you dry? I want all of it Hange, give it to me please baby?" You teased, throwing your ass against them, feeling your own orgasm coming in close.

"I'm gonna cum all in this pussy baby, look at me- fuck just like that, you look so fucking good.." They babbled, watching you as you turned your neck to look back at them.

Their face was covered with the color red with a few strands stuck to their forehead, you could tell they were about to spray your insides white, this made you put your all into it, they gripped your hips hard forming crescent shaped indents deep into your skin, sporadically pounding inside of you, whimpering and moaning as you were bound to the ground, stuck in a euphoric state of pleasure.

"I'm cumming, I'M GONNA-" Was all you head before you felt ropes of warm cum fill you up in the nastiest way possible, you could feel them twitch inside of you as they still weren't finished, fucking the cum deeper into you.

Soon enough you creamed all over Hange only adding to the nasty mess they created not too long ago. They finally pulled out and watched as their cum spilled out of you, like an artist looking at a finished project.

You were mentally out of it, your legs gave out and you were on the floor with cum spilling out of your pussy and drool coming from your lips, bitch you were dickmatized.

"So..." They panted. "How do we tell Eren?"

Yallllllll, this is the nastiest thing my fingers have typed- this has been in my drafts for so long...but oh my fuck..i'm fucking pregnant....

#hange zoe smut #hange zoe #hange zoe x reader #hange zoe x fem reader #aot smut #hange x y/n #aot x reader #hange zoe x black reader #hange smut #dom hange #aot x black reader #my pussy is throbbing #till i lose hearing in my left leg #amab hange #hange got a big ass dick idc #my coochie clenched

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woozvc · 8 months

Text

notice you

1.0 (season finale)

word count - 1.8k ish

you keep your phone down for a while. me and vernon replays in your head. maybe it's the stress from the interview being released or maybe it's something else, suddenly you're laying in bed like a motionless doll staring at the ceiling. events from your meet up with vernon replay in your head.

how when he saw u walk over to him he broke out in the biggest smile ever. how he didn't immediately hand you your wallet, instead took his time to ask how you were and if you had eaten. when you said no he responded

" I know a place nearby let's go"

"oh it's okay we don't have to I've already made u come all the way here just to give me my wallet"

"I want to hang out with you let's go"

I want to hang out with you. he wanted to spend time with you with or without the wallet. but surely it didn't mean much?

you guys stop by a nearby cafe, it's small with no one around. the smell of freshly made ramen fills your nose as u remember you hadn't eaten at all.

both of you sit down and make small talk about life, goals, the future and what not. vernon is genuine in his answers, that's something you admired about him since the first time you both met.

admire, that's the word u use when u see vernon.

admiration fills your eyes when he talks about his love for music and his passion.music has been your life goal since forever, and you wouldn't give up being an idol for anything. it was nice knowing that someone you look upto also feels the same. it felt comforting that he also felt the effect of music.

admire, that's the word you use for vernon when he offers to take a walk around the river after you finish eating.

he's a bit awkward, it's very evident. both of you clueless as to if this is okay, adrenaline pumping in your blood at the thought of being caught. but for some reason you didn't care, not when you're with him.walking around with him felt natural, something about him feels familiar, it feels comfortable.

admire, the word both of you use when you finally say goodbye.

it's around midnight and the river area is getting crowded with college kids having picnics with their friends. that's when you both decide to head home. it's comfortable, but there's a feeling of longing. you want to stay there with him but you know u can't. "I'll see you around" leaves your lips as u walk away, clutching your wallet in your hand.

admire, that's the word vernon used for you when he saw you debut showcase for the first time on his YouTube for you page.

he was bored, he has nothing else to do. autoplay helped though, he heard an unfamiliar melody fill his ears and suddenly he was watching all your videos on your channel for the next 2 hours.

admire, the word vernon uses to hide the fact he didn't just notce you, he admired you.

"sometimes things are better left unsaid" you both think as you turn your phones off, last texts never getting sent.

synopsis - you get invited to your first MAMA awards after debuting as a soloist. a dream come true for u. your fans are ecstatic but they can't help but notice how this one idol keeps stealing glances at u......and you can't ignore it either.

pairing — vernon x gn!reader

genre/s — smau, idol au, fluff, minor angst

warnings — a lot of cursing

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note — Y'ALL I'M SORRY FOR MAKING THE FINALE SO ANGSTY BUT I PROMISE SEASON 2 WILL BE BETTER PLEASE FORGIVE ME. but yes omg we finally ended season 1!! I didn't know this series would blow up as much as it did and I'm so grateful. this series will be on hold for a while, I'll focus on my other series which is coming up and more one shots but this WILL RETURN!! thank you for loving notice you as much as I do <3

anyways as always id love to know your thoughts on this chapter!

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@maiamorrrrrrrrrrrr @thehao8 @blurryriki @atinytinaa @delicatewinterenthusiast @stqrrgirle @cloelinnnnn @sp1ng @venusprada @hellohannie

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