#The Ballad of the Brown Girl | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xomakara · 5 months

Text

Coming Home

SUMMARY | You and Haechan try to cope with a long distance relationship but when you land the opportunity to write a ballad song, you finally get to reunite with Haechan PAIRINGS | Haechan/Fem!Reader GENRE | smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, oral (female giving/male receiving), LDR RATING | Mature LENGTH | 6,456 words AUTHOR’S NOTE | This was originally supposed to be a Jaehyun story but I decided to make it Haechan instead.

On another note, I’m still working on the Taeil and Xiaojun stories. Should be done soon 🙂

My Love

Hey, baby. I miss you.

You sighed as you read the text message that followed after yours. You were sitting in a local café and sipping your coffee, laptop on the table with your phone next to it. Your papers in your lap, you opened the word document ready to start writing some new lyrics for the new U.S. based girl group you were working with.

Staring outside of the shop’s window, you looked at the passerbys dressed in their winter coats and bundled up for the winter holidays. You wished you were back in Seoul, in the warm arms of that one special person you longed for. But your job as a songwriter made you go to the US, when you wanted to see your love, your heart. You sighed as you continued to sip your coffee.

You wondered what he was up to. Of course he had to be busy; Korean idols usually were busier than American singers. You sighed, wanting to experience the thrill of being back in Seoul, the rush of idols having promotions and performances. You missed the daily screams of fan girls, the feeling of being on stage and dancing and performing. Yes, you were an ex-idol. But your group had split due to problems with your former company and you signed to SM.

That's where you met him...

Your boyfriend. The love of your life.

You remembered the day you met him. Before you expressed the desire to become a singer-songwriter to your new company, you were attending dance and singing sessions despite already being known as a former idol. You were in the practice room one day, when he and his fellow members came into the studio for their own practice session. He caught your eye and approached you. You remember thinking how good looking he was, with those boyish features, and beautiful brown eyes. He expressed that he was glad that he was able to run into you since he was such a big fan of yours.

You laughed because you were also surprised by this, but then he told you that he admired your talent. From there, you started talking more often and he always showed up during your practice sessions. Then one day, he asked if he could talk to you privately and you went to the hallway near the studio rooms and talked about music and you soon became closer and closer to each other.

You still have moments where you replay the moment where he confessed his feelings to you, through song, during a performance at their showcase, back when they were only a rookie group and you were already well into your career. You blush every time you hear his name mentioned or see his face appear on your phone. But then again, you've been with him ever since, and he's the most important thing in your life. The most valuable person in your life.

But right now, you felt lonely.

Even though you spent your days working on music and meeting people to help make songs for the various projects you worked on, your evenings and nights were just so quiet without him. Just you, your notes, and a cup of tea. It wasn't like you didn't have any friends or acquaintances in the States. You were part of a creative team for this U.S based girl group, so you had other Koreans that had worked with you since you joined SM, that flew overseas with you. But you still missed home and all the familiar things from there, like your favorite cafes, people you knew, places that reminded you of him.

And now you're away from them, working on something that you want, doing what you love. And although it can be challenging sometimes, you're so grateful that you are where you are right now, making a living off of something that you truly enjoy. Because no matter what, you will never forget how lucky you are that you were given the opportunity to do this. Even though things weren't perfect at first, they ended up turning out just fine.

You picked up your pen and jotted down lyrics from your favorite Korean group's songs. You weren’t planning on using it in your own composition, no you wouldn't dare do that, but it was a type of inspiration for you. It gave you some ideas just looking at the lines your boyfriend sang. It lifted your spirits up and you knew one day you would go back to him.

“Y/N~” Someone called your name. Looking up from your laptop, you smiled as you saw several girls waving as they made their way to you.

“Hey girls!” You called out as you lifted a hand and waved at them. “What brings you here?”

“What are you doing, Y/N?” Ivy, one of the vocalists, asked as she sat down next to you. With her pale skin and bouncing blonde curls, she was clearly the visual of the group. “Who’s that?”

“Who’s who?” Sophie, another of the vocalists, asked as she sat down on the other side of you. She had the skin of caramel, her dark thick hair barely brushing her shoulders. Looking at your screen she also took a double take. “He’s a cutie!”

“Ah, him?” You pointed to the screen and smiled. You would always look at your screen and smile, the smile of the man staring back at you always made you feel happy inside. “That’s my boyfriend.”

“Who is he?” Gemma, the leader of the group, asked as she threw her long black hair behind her.

“You guys don’t know his group?” You asked, the girls shaking their heads. “Really? How could my girls not know about my boys?”

“We just recently got into the genre.” Ivy frowned, the others laughing. “Give us a break here.”

“Well, you're in for a wild ride once you get into them.” You laughed and gestured to the girls to sit closer. “And my boyfriend? His name is Haechan.”

Haechan watched as his 127 hyungs wandered about the practice room after their practice. He was standing next to Mark, drinking from his water bottle, clutching his phone in his hand as he listened to Mark go on about something one of the Dream members did the other day.

“Dude,” Mark waved a hand in front of Haechan’s face. “Are you listening?”

Haechan shrugged and stared at the floor. “Nope.”

“Are you okay?” Mark raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been spacing out for a while now. Is everything alright?”

“Everything is fine.” Haechan muttered, letting out a sigh. “Just tired, that’s all.”

“It’s Y/N, huh?” Mark asked, placing a comforting hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “You miss her?”

Haechan closed his eyes and nodded slowly. “Yeah…”

“Awhhhh,” Jungwoo pouted as he enveloped Haechan in a hug. “Our Haechannie is a lovesick puppy.”

Haechan rolled his eyes and hugged Jungwoo back. “Hyung, please. I am not lovesick.”

Jungwoo scoffed and shook his head. “Whatever. We know better. And besides, how can you not miss your girlfriend when she’s gone?”

“Time differences sucks,” Haechan frowned, watching as the other 127 members made their way over to him. “Even though we have video calls and talk to each other on the phone, there’s nothing like seeing her face every morning and evening.”

“She’s coming home soon, right?” Taeyong spoke up, grabbing hold of Haechan’s other arm. “After Christmas?”

“I hope so.” Haechan answered quietly.

There was a silence amongst the rest of the 127 as they waited for the youngest member of the group to say something else. A few seconds passed before he cleared his throat and looked at them.

“Maybe if we wish really hard for her to come home, she will.” Taeil said hopefully. “I kind of miss having Y/N hanging around the practice room. She brightens up the place.”

“Is it weird that I miss Haechan’s and Y/N’s random ass pranks?” Johnny raised an eyebrow. “Like that time you taped some ladybug stickers on us while we were asleep.”

“Or when she would hide in the dark and then scare the crap out of everyone by popping out of nowhere,” Doyoung added.

“Those pranks never failed to make me laugh,” Yuta mused.

All of a sudden a noise filled the room and Haechan jumped, his hand immediately going to his pocket where he stored his cellphone.

“Y/N!” Haechan excitedly said as he smiled at you through his phone.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” You muttered, noticing Jaehyun popping his head in to wave hi. “Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“It’s fine, babe. We just finished practice.” Haechan reassured you. “Where are you?”

“Sitting at this coffee shop.” You replied. “Doing some work.”

“Work sounds fun.” Haechan grinned. “So what is it that you’re working on? Writing some songs or something?”

“Yes, actually.” You smiled sheepishly. “But I’m still trying to figure out what I want to write about.”

“Well maybe I can help you.” Haechan offered. “Why don’t you send me a few of your songs and I’ll give you my opinion.”

“I would love that, babe.” you replied, a soft smile on your face. “How have you and the oppas been? And the rest of our chingus and dongsaengs?”

“Haha, we are great. Everyone’s well and taking care of business.” Haechan chuckled. “The older guys keep asking me about you, about when you’re going to be home so we can meet up again. It makes me happy knowing they miss you too.”

“Me too, Haechan. Me too.” You replied softly. “I’m going to end this call soon because I need to get some work done. So until tomorrow. Go get dinner with the oppas and have fun. I love you.”

“Love you too. Until tomorrow.”

You woke up early in the morning. Getting out of bed, you changed into your everyday clothes, grabbed your bag and headed out to grab some breakfast before you went to the studio. Before heading out, you decided to check your emails. Checking your inbox, you found an email from your company. You were surprised to find out that in addition to the songs that you were preparing for the girls in the U.S, the company offered you an opportunity to write a song for NCT for a winter special.

Specifically for the members Taeil, Doyoung, Jaehyun, and… Haechan.

You had to smile. You knew exactly what kind of song to write for them. You took their voices into account deciding to write a romantic ballad. It wasn’t the first time you wrote such a song, but you had to admit, it felt good to write this kind of song for your ‘boyfriend’.

You just hoped that you could finish it in time to send it off so that the guys could start recording it. But even if you couldn’t finish it on time, you had faith in your writing ability and knew that you would be able to write it.

Since winter was around the corner, you wanted to write a song that could relate to people who missed someone during the colder months. Being away from your loved ones during the holidays must be hard. That’s why you wanted to write a song that people would connect to easily. Something they could use as a mantra to remind themselves that the person they miss isn’t far away. That they have a place that is still home. They just needed to think about that special person. As much as it broke your heart thinking about being apart from Haechan, you knew that you'd go home to him one day and make sure he knows that no matter how far away you two were, he would always be close to your heart.

Walking into the studio, you greeted everyone and started your work. Hours later, you had the melody written and you only needed to add lyrics and chords.

It wouldn’t take long for you to complete the song and get it sent off. Maybe by tomorrow. You certainly hoped so. The sooner you sent it off, the faster you could hear it. But it needed to be perfect for the guys. Perfect for Haechan especially.

“I can’t wait for you to hear this, babe.” You whispered to yourself. "I can't wait for you to sing it..."

Thinking about it made you smile.

And you could almost imagine Haechan singing it. You wondered if he would be the first to record it. Or if someone else would. The possibilities seemed endless. You wished you could be there in Korea with Haechan. But until then, this song was a sign of things to come. Of how you’d spend your days missing him. Missing his voice. Smelling his scent. Everything about him.

Your fingers danced across the keyboard as you typed out the finishing lyrics. The words flowed out effortlessly and you smiled as you realized you were writing about your feelings towards Haechan. The butterflies in your stomach grew stronger as you remembered all the sweet moments you shared together. Moments that made you feel giddy, silly, and... loved. You were ready to share these emotions with the world.

With Haechan.

After finishing the song and playing a sample to the rest of the staff, you stood back to listen to the track. It sounded amazing. Just like you thought it would. Hearing your own creation was an amazing feeling. You always loved writing songs, but this was different. This was something personal. To you. For you.

"What's this?" Haechan asked his manager as the older man handed him a paper filled with lyrics. He was sitting in one of the conference rooms with Taeil, Doyoung and Jaehyun.

"This is a song." Manager Jung answered, smiling proudly. "For a Station song that you four will be singing for a winter release. It's called Coming Home."

"Wow." Haechan mumbled, flipping through the lyrics. "This is really beautiful."

"It is, isn't it?" Manager Jung grinned. "I'm really proud of everything she's doing. She even wrote a beautiful song for you guys."

"Who?" Doyoung asked curiously.

"Y/N," Manager Jung replied. "Y/N wrote this song specifically for you guys."

"Y/N?" Jaehyun raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Taeil let out a small whimper before enveloping Haechan in a hug. "Your girlfriend is a god sent. She wrote us a damn song!"

"What do you guys think?" Manager Jung turned to Taeil, Jaehyun and Doyoung.

"It's amazing." Doyoung smiled, hugging Haechan. "She put so much emotion into this. Can you believe it?"

"She took all our voices into account." Jaehyun added, hugging Taeil. "This is a perfect song."

Manager Jung nodded. "That's the point. I think it'll really resonate with your fans. Especially those who've missed their family and friends while living abroad."

Haechan smiled as he looked over the lyrics. His girlfriend never seemed to fail him. Not once since they started dating. She truly was a gift from above. An angel sent down to protect him. Who could ask for anything more?

"Can we listen to the demo?" Haechan asked.

Manager Jung nodded. "You're in for a treat because Y/N sang it herself."

"Let's listen." Haechan urged, turning up the volume.

Seconds into the demo, Haechan's eyes widened. He looked over at Taeil and Doyoung who had the same look on their faces. Both looked at each other and smiled, their eyes glowing with happiness. Even Jaehyun looked at Haechan as if they both shared a secret between them.

"She did this?" Haechan asked, incredulous. "Damn, this is beautiful."

They listened intently as Y/N's beautiful vocals flowed out of the speakers. Each note was beautifully sung and every word perfectly crafted. When they reached the bridge, Haechan's smile got bigger. He knew this part was the best. There was no way anyone could listen to this song without getting choked up. Without feeling the way he did. The way he always felt whenever Y/N sang a song. Every note was perfectly placed and they held meaning beyond just the song itself. She didn't just create music, she created emotion. She created magic.

And Haechan was lucky enough to be the one who saw it happen.

"We should hurry and record this. I don't want to lose this chance." Doyoung commented, smiling. "Let's try and record it this weekend. Hopefully we can finish it in time."

Manager Jung smiled. "Y/N will be happy that you all like it."

Haechan glanced over at Taeil, Doyoung and Jaehyun, a gentle smile on his face. This song was his gift. From his baby girl. A piece of her that he could hold on to forever. Even if they weren't together physically, they could always be together through the power of music. Through her beautiful voice. Her unique beauty. All the memories they made together would live on through their music.

Forever immortalized in song. A song written by his angel.

"Thank you, Y/N." He whispered quietly. "Thank you for loving me. Thank you for making this happen."

A few weeks later...

"Noona!" Seungeun, one of the staff members on the creative team that came with you from Korea, called out as soon as you stepped into the room. You walked over to where he was standing and noticed he was holding the remote control to the TV. Your eyes wandered to the other people in the room; Ivy, Sophie and Gemma on the couch, some of the American staff leaning against the walls or sitting in chairs, the Korean staff members all standing or sitting on the floor.

"What's going on?" You asked, shrugging your coat off and placing your bag next to you. "Is this a meeting or something?"

"No." Ivy answered. "This is another surprise."

"Manager Jung sent us a video link and told us to watch it when you get here." Seungeun explained. "He wants us to congratulate you."

Everyone in the room cheered.

"Y/N!" They yelled. "Congratulations! You deserve it!"

"I'm so confused," You laughed and joined the girls on the couch.

"Press play! Press play!" Gemma told Seungeun. "Don't leave us hanging!"

The video began and immediately you recognized Haechan's footsteps as walked into the screen. You let out a small smile as Doyoung's melodic voice filled the room, Haechan's soft vocals following right after.

"My time stopped When I turned away from your crying self I didn't even give you a last goodbye Your warm heart said, "When you’re tired, come back and rest" When I look back on my snowy way after a while, you're there By the time when my trip is over, I'll know it Like that time holding you in my heart I’m coming home"

When Jaehyun and Taeil sang their parts in the chorus, you just knew. You wrote a perfect song for them. And now you were watching it come alive. You couldn't help but smile at how the boys made the song come alive. At how emotional and beautiful it sounded to have such amazing singers bring your words to life.

You couldn't help it when a tear threatened to fall when you looked at Haechan's beautiful face in the music video. If you closed your eyes, you could see him as he sang the song, looking absolutely gorgeous in front of the camera. His brown hair glistened as he stared down at the camera. Eyes filled with passion. Passion that matched the lyrics you wrote for him. A passion that hadn't died even though you hadn't been able to see him in months. The tears spilled down your cheeks as the video ended and you wiped them away, smiling at the memory of how incredible the video was.

The room fell silent for several seconds. Everyone's gaze fixated on you.

You glanced around the room nervously. Everyone was staring at you, waiting for you to speak.

"I'm sorry about that," You finally said, clearing your throat and wiping at your face. "I didn't mean to cry. I-it was just-"

Gemma jumped up from the couch, startling everyone in the room. She wrapped her arms around you and pulled you closer.

"It's okay." She murmured, squeezing you tight. "Just let it out."

"I haven't seen him in months." You mumbled, burying your face into Gemma's shoulder. "Seeing him sing made me so emotional."

"You miss him." Sophie whispered.

"A lot." You admitted. "Even more than I ever imagined. More than any of you probably realize."

Gemma let go of you and walked over to Ivy. They exchanged a few words before returning to sit down next to you again. Sophie wrapped her arm around your shoulders and gave you a comforting squeeze.

"You know, seeing him perform your song was probably one of the most special moments of my entire life." Sophie mused, stroking your cheek softly. "Seeing you write something so heartfelt for him..."

"Yeah." You sighed. "I didn't think it would make me so emotional."

"That's understandable." Sophie chuckled. "If it wasn't Haechan or the other guys who were in that video, I'd be crying too."

"Eonni," Minjung, another staff member of the creative team, rushed to you, her phone in her hands. "You have a video call."

You looked down at the screen and gasped.

There was Haechan, smiling brightly at you. Your smile widened when you noticed Taeil was standing next to him, grinning happily. And then there was Jaehyun and Doyoung, sitting behind Haechan, rubbing Haechan's back gently.

"Babe? What's wrong? You look like you were crying. Did something happen?" Haechan asked, concern written all over his face.

You pressed your finger to your lips and shook your head. "Nothing's wrong. I'm fine."

Jaehyun raised his eyes. "Did you watch the music video, Y/N?"

"Is that why it looked like you were crying?" Doyoung asked.

"Baby, you cried?" Haechan interjected. "Why? I thought it would make you happy-"

"It made me incredibly happy." You assured him. "But watching it also made me sad. Sad that I'm not there."

"I feel like that too." Haechan confessed. "Seeing you being so far away from me makes me feel sick. It's killing me."

Taeil sighed loudly and pulled the other two men to their feet. "Let's leave Haechan and Y/N to speak alone."

The boys bowed to you and left the room quickly.

"I miss you, babe." Haechan muttered through the phone. "I wish I could pick you up and hold you in my arms right now."

"I wish I could do that too." You admitted. "I miss you so much."

"Me too." Haechan agreed. "Thank you for the song, babe. Thank you for writing something so wonderful for me. My love for you grows stronger every day."

"And my love for you grows stronger every single day." You said quietly. "Every time I hear your voice, I fall deeper in love with you. I can't stop thinking about you. I dream about you all the time. But when I wake up, it's always just a dream."

"But it isn't a dream anymore, babe." Haechan reminded you. "And when you open your eyes, I will be there."

"Yes, Haechan." You smiled. "When I open my eyes, you will be there."

"I can't wait for you to open your eyes, babe." He promised. "I can't wait until you come home."

"Soon." You promised. "Very soon."

As soon as you hung up, the Korean staff members rushed to you and hugged you tightly. You cried for a little longer, but eventually managed to pull yourself together.

"You guys are so sweet." You said once you managed to catch your breath. "But don't worry about me. I'm okay. Really."

"Are you sure?" Minjung asked worriedly. "We wouldn't mind staying with you if you need someone to talk to."

"Thanks, Minjung, but it's really okay." You reassured her. "I promise. I'm fine."

"Okay, eonni." Minjung nodded. "Just remember that we’re always here."

Everyone was looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to explain what had happened.

You gulped. How was it possible to explain what you just did? How was it possible to explain how the sound of his voice made you melt inside? How you missed him so much that it hurt? How you dreamed about him every night and hoped that one day you would be able to be with him again? How you felt like nothing in the world could tear you apart if you were with him?

Well, all those things couldn't be described with mere words.

"Noona," Seungeun looked at the rest of the team before looking at you. They all seemed to be in silent agreement about something. "Should we...go home?"

"Yeah." You nodded slowly. "Let's go home."

“Haechan, I’m coming home.”

Haechan couldn't believe his eyes when you walked into the practice room. When he saw you standing there, his heart nearly stopped beating. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down as he watched you approach him. He walked towards you slowly, stopping when you reached him.

His fingers brushed lightly against your cheek. You closed your eyes as you leaned into his touch.

"Haechan, I'm home." You breathed.

He smiled widely, stepping forward and kissing you softly.

"I missed you." He whispered, brushing his lips against yours once more.

"I missed you too, baby." You whispered back. "I've wanted to kiss you since the moment I woke up."

"How long has it been?" He asked curiously. "Since you last kissed me?"

"Too long." You sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck. "It's been way too long."

"Maybe I should keep you locked in my room from now on." He teased.

"You're welcome to try." You snickered. "I promise I won't fight you."

"Deal." He grinned, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too." You admitted, sighing contentedly.

"Get a room or something, lovebirds." You heard Johnny snicker from across the room. "I can hear you two kissing from here."

"It's nice to see you too, Johnny." You chuckled. "I would say hi, but honestly, I'm kinda busy right now."

"Busy sucking face?" Mark laughed, opening his arms to give you a hug. "Welcome home, Y/N."

"Thanks, Mark." You smiled, hugging him back. "It feels good to be back."

"Y/N!" Taeil called, running over to you and giving you a big hug. "Welcome back! We missed you so much!"

"Hi, Taeil." You smiled. "It's good to be back."

"It looks like you already have your hands full." Mark chuckled, watching you give some of the Dream and WayV members hugs. "I wonder who else is going to run over to you."

"Can't help that I'm everyone's favorite person." You shrugged. "They practically attack me whenever they see me."

"Can't believe that I have to fight everyone for your affection." Haechan mumbled, wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing your temple. "I am fighting against all odds."

"It's okay." You laughed. "Fighting for my affection is totally worth it."

"I missed you so much." Haechan mumbled, nuzzling his nose into your neck. "Please don't leave me again."

"Don't worry, Haechan." You promised, turning your face so you could kiss him. "As long as I have you by my side, no matter where I am, I'm never going anywhere."

"Thank god." Haechan sighed. "Otherwise, I might die from this torture."

"Stop being dramatic and take me home." You giggled, pulling away from him slightly. "I want to go home."

"Home sounds good." Haechan agreed, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. "Do you want to go home right now? Or do you want to stay here a little bit longer?"

"Oh God, Haechan." You groaned, burying your face into his chest. "Take me home now. Please. I need you to take me home so I can give you your present."

"What present?" He asked, still holding you close.

"My surprise gift for you." You sighed. "Now please, before I change my mind."

"Okay, baby." Haechan grinned, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you out of the practice room. "Come on. Let's go home."

Once you got back to your apartment, Haechan put you down on the couch and went to get some water for you. You took a sip of the cool water as Haechan came back to join you.

"I'm gonna put you to bed." He said, standing in front of you.

"Oh no you don't." You laughed, grabbing his shirt collar and pulling him down on top of you. "I'm not tired yet. And I haven't given you your present yet. So get off of me and let me give it to you."

"What kind of present?" He asked, trying to wriggle out of your grip. "Is it food? Because you know how much I love food."

"No, it's not food." You laughed. "It's much better than food. Much, much better."

"A massage?" He guessed, sitting up on his knees.

"Hmm, no." You sighed. "I think it's a lot more fun than that."

"More fun than food?" He repeated curiously. "More fun than a massage? Can you tell me what it is?"

"No." You smirked, pushing him onto his back. "But I'm pretty sure you're going to love it."

"Oh boy..." Haechan groaned, rolling his eyes playfully. "Whatever it is, I bet it's gonna make me lose my mind."

"Oh yeah, it's definitely going to make you lose your mind." You laughed, getting off of the couch and straddling him. "So shut up and let me show you what I got you."

"Go ahead, baby." Haechan encouraged, letting his arms slide down your sides. "I'm ready for whatever the present is. Show me."

With that, you drew your shirt over your head, revealing your lacy bra underneath. You let your hands glide over your breasts, feeling your nipples harden as you caressed them gently.

"God, these are beautiful." Haechan murmured appreciatively, reaching out and squeezing both of your breasts firmly. "This present is gonna blow my mind."

You smiled, leaning forward and pressing your lips to his. As your tongue explored his mouth, Haechan wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. After a few minutes, you pulled away slightly and reached behind you, unhooking your bra. You tossed it aside, smiling as Haechan stared at your bare breasts.

"You are such a tease." He growled, trying to pull you back down on top of him. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"Because I can." You replied, pulling his shirt over his head and unbuttoning his pants. "And because I want to. Now stop complaining and enjoy the present."

With that, you slid your hand inside his pants and began to rub his cock through his underwear.

"Oh fuck, yes." Haechan moaned, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against the couch. "That feels so good. What are you doing to me?"

"Giving you your present." You smiled, slipping your hand inside his boxers and stroking his dick with a firm grip. "Like you wanted me to."

"God, you drive me crazy." Haechan groaned. "I wish you'd hurry up and finish. I need to feel you."

"Hmmm, maybe later." You replied, kissing him softly. "For now, you need to be patient."

"Fuck patience." Haechan growled. "I'm gonna explode if you keep teasing me like this."

"Oh yeah?" You smiled. "How will you explode then?"

"All over your tits." He answered quickly, undoing your jeans and pushing them down along with your panties. "Or all over your ass. Maybe even on your stomach."

"Mmm, I'm liking your ideas." You purred, running your hand over his erection as you pushed his jeans and boxers off. "Tell me, baby, which part of my body do you want to cum on first?"

"Anywhere you want." He replied eagerly. "I'll cum everywhere if you ask me to."

"You're a very horny man, aren't you?" You chuckled, squeezing his shaft gently. "Just how much have you been fantasizing about me while I was gone?"

"Enough to shoot a load." He answered without hesitation. "Every time I close my eyes, I picture you naked, rubbing your tits over my face. Or walking around naked, showing me your perfect body. Don't tell me you haven't been fantasizing about me like that too?"

"Of course I have." You laughed, cupping his balls in your other hand. "I fantasized about you almost every night. How could I not? I'm in love with you, you silly man."

"I love you too, baby." Haechan smiled, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. "I love you so fucking much."

"Good." You sighed, sliding down so you were sitting between his legs. "I'm glad we understand each other."

With that, you lowered your head down and took his throbbing cock into your mouth, slowly taking him in. He shuddered as you started sucking him gently, moving your tongue over the tip. He closed his eyes and threw his head back against the couch, moaning loudly.

"Holy shit." Haechan gasped, gripping the couch tightly. "This is amazing."

"You really like that, huh?" You asked, keeping your rhythm slow and steady.

"Love it." He replied breathlessly. "So much."

You continued to suck him slowly, alternating between licking his shaft and swirling your tongue around his head. After a few minutes, he stopped thrusting his hips and opened his eyes, staring at you with lustful eyes.

"Are you ready to cum, baby?" You whispered, licking your lips seductively. "If you are, just say the word and I'll swallow everything you give me."

"I'm so ready." Haechan panted. "Give me your tongue, Y/N. I want you to taste me when I come."

"So do I." You whispered, licking your lips and lowering your head to his lap.

You swirled your tongue around his shaft once more, this time focusing on the sensitive underside. His breathing became faster and quicker, until finally he released his seed into your mouth, coating your tongue with his sweet taste. You swallowed as much as you could, savoring the taste of his release. Once you had finished swallowing, you raised your head to look up at him. He was looking at you with pure lust in his eyes, clearly pleased with the blowjob you had given him.

"Better than expected." He breathed. "Come here baby. Let me feel you against me."

Straddling his hips, you settled yourself between his legs and looked down at him, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"Wow, you look so sexy like that." Haechan mumbled, running his fingers through your hair. "It's hard to imagine that anyone else would ever be able to make me feel this way."

"Trust me, there's nothing else that makes me feel this good." You assured him. "Nothing compares to you."

"Same here." He smiled, kissing your lips lightly. "I've missed you so much, baby."

"I've missed you too." You whispered, resting your head on his shoulder. "Now show me how much you miss me."

"Gladly." Haechan growled, lifting you up so he could position himself inside you.

"Hmmm." You hummed in response, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. "There's nothing better than having my boyfriend buried deep inside me after he's been deprived of it for months."

Haechan leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours passionately, pulling you deeper into the kiss. You returned the kiss with equal passion, pulling him tighter and tighter as you felt his cock begin to fill you up.

As Haechan continued to push into you, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against his body, grinding your hips against him. You held on tight to his shoulders, reveling in the feeling of his hard cock inside you again. You hadn't realized how much you had missed being fucked by him until he was finally there, filling you completely.

"Fucking perfect." Haechan panted. "Feels so good to be inside you again. Fuck."

With that, he increased the speed of his movements, slamming himself into you over and over again. Each thrust made you moan louder, driving him wild.

"You love it when I fuck you like this, don't you?" He grunted, tightening his hold around you and grinding harder.

"Please! Yes! Oh god...don't stop...keep going...don't stop!" You begged, panting as Haechan kept up his relentless pace. "Not yet...not yet..."

As you heard the words leave your lips, Haechan slowed down slightly and reached down between your legs, grabbing your clit and pinching it gently. Your whole body tensed as he did this, making you moan in pleasure.

"Ahhhh...oh god...you bastard..." You moaned, losing control as Haechan teased you mercilessly. "Don't stop...I need it...so bad..."

He didn't listen though, continuing to rub your clit, increasing the pressure of his thrusts slowly but surely. You tried to resist, but Haechan was simply too strong. Eventually, he managed to break through your resistance and you came undone under his ministrations, screaming out his name as your orgasm swept over you. Haechan threw his head back, groaning as he pumped his cock into you one last time before shooting his seed into your hot pussy.

You collapsed on top of him, lying on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. Your heart was still pounding wildly from the intensity of your climax, but Haechan's strong embrace seemed to calm your nerves, making you feel safe and protected.

"Are you okay?" Haechan asked, pulling back slightly to look at you.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You answered, grinning at him. "I needed that."

"Well, then you definitely deserved it." He said, kissing your cheek. "I missed you so much. It's so nice to be able to touch you again."

"Mmm, me too." You replied, snuggling closer to him. "Especially after spending all those nights in bed alone. At least we get to spend the rest of our time together in bed, now."

"True." Haechan agreed. He lifted you up and made his way to your bedroom, laying down with you in bed. "And this time we're together. No more long distance. No more phone calls or emails. Just you and me, together."

"Yes, together." You agreed, burying your head against his chest. "Forever and always."

"Y/N?" Haechan questioned, lifting your head and brushing some hair away from your face.

"Hmm?" You responded, staring at him with sleepy eyes.

Haechan pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Thank you for coming home."

"Anything for you, baby." You replied softly, closing your eyes and falling asleep next to him.

#nct #nct stories #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct 127 #nct dream #nct smut #nct haechan #lee haechan #lee donghyuck #haechan x reader #haechan smut

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lewmagoo · 10 months

Text

lewis pullman's filmography

a collection of links to all of the short films, shows, and movies of his that i could find available online. this list will be updated as each new work of his becomes available. please let me know if any links are broken!

disclaimer: i strongly advise using an adblocker and a vpn when accessing some of these links. the youtube and vimeo links are completely safe, but some of the others may be a bit sketchy because they come from 🏴‍☠️ sites. you have been warned.

2017

the ballad of lefty brown aftermath (he doesn't come in until the end, around 1:23:15) lean on pete (he comes in at around 1:16:48) battle of the sexes (he comes in at 1:00:06)

2018

the strangers: prey at night bad times at the el royale

2019

them that follow catch-22 (miniseries)

2020

pink skies ahead

2022

top gun: maverick press play outer range

2023

the starling girl the caine mutiny court-martial lessons in chemistry water rises

short films

take a hike the voice in your head craig's pathetic freakout where you are lefty/righty

#lewis pullman #lew's films #top gun maverick #outer range #the starling girl #bob floyd #rhett abbott

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aphrogeneias · 1 month

Note

are we still thinking about best friend!eddie? what about best friend!eddie who is writing the most devastating love songs for you and you’re just like “omg babe who’s the lucky girl?” and it’s not till you go see corroded coffin at the hideout and he finds your eyes in the crowd when singing one that you’re finally like “oh…”

Eddie would always insist that Corroded Coffin didn't do ballads.

"We're not sellouts", he'd say, enunciating the word like it was poisonous. The boys agreed with him, and being the main songwriter, that was quite definitive. Except you knew better.

You knew about the songs he'd write in his old, battered notebook. The ones he'd sing when it was just the two of you in his room, sitting on the edge of his bed with his black acoustic guitar on his lap.

This machine slays dragons, it said. It broke hearts too, sometimes.

Sitting on his floor, you'd wonder what those songs were really about. Who they were about. Songs about unrequited love, longing for someone you can't have. Waxing poetic about hair and eyes and a body admired from a distance, untouchable.

You'd sit and listen and wonder, praying that someday you'd know, even if it would break your heart even further. Eddie would finish his songs with a smile, looking down at you from where he sat, a golden halo around his curls coming from the window behind him.

"You really won't tell me who these are about? Do they know, at least?"

He'd tell you what he always did. "Does a song really have to be about someone?"

"We both know they always are. Whether the composer wants to admit it or not." You'd tease with a smile that wouldn't quite reach your eyes.

"This composer has nothing to admit." He'd set his guitar aside and join you on the floor, picking up his notebook to hide it once more. "Besides, you're my only muse."

Your skipped a beat everytime he'd say that. Changing the subject, you turn to him. "Do your muse a favor, then, and play this one on Tuesday? It's really good, Ed."

"I'll think about it."

On Tuesday, you and the five drunks scattered around the Hideout got to listen to a new song — a Corroded Coffin original, along with the other two they'd always play, straight from their EP. "Someone convinced me to do this one live. I hope she enjoys it."

And as his brown eyes, glinting under the weak spotlight over the stage, met yours across the room, and remained there through the first verse until the chorus, you knew. When his voice lowered and softened, crooning the words you heard earlier that week.

When the crowd around you disappeared and you were the only two people in the bar, and the sound of his voice and guitar were the only ones echoing through the walls, you knew.

You finally knew.

#is this anything?#i hope it's something anon <3 #eddie munson x reader #anonymous #inbox

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cowgurrrl · 1 year

Text

Dancing Barefoot

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author’s note: this was slightly self-indulgent because Patti Smith is my personal god also baby Miller should be arriving in the next fic but this idea was stuck in my head and I HAD to write it

Summary: “I’ll never finish falling in love with you.” - Nicole Williams, Collared aka Joel helps you and the baby sleep ~800 words

Warnings: a little bittersweet, talks of Janey girl and Sarah bear, brief brief brief mention of a strained parent/child relationship, pregnancy, tooth rotting fluff

The moonlight streams from the windows, and the birds chirp sleepily outside. Ellie is safe in her bed, and Joel is lying on his right side beside you, occasionally mumbling something you never quite catch. You should be asleep. The baby should be asleep; instead, they're using you as their punching bag. You've been tossing and turning for thirty minutes, making the baby toss and turn just as much. You sigh and rub your face like it will be enough to soothe you and the baby to sleep.

"Can't sleep?" Joel mumbles, and you look at his back. You didn't even know he was awake, but you nod at the ceiling.

"Your kid is doing laps."

"Why is it my kid when he's misbehaving?" He asks as he turns to face you. His hair is a mess, and his eyes are heavy with sleep, but his hand still manages to find your bump in the dark. "Let your mama sleep." He says, poking at your stomach.

"I don't think poking our baby in the face is going to get them to sleep," you say, and he hums, half-asleep. You run your fingers through his curls and smile when he cuddles closer to you. "I think they want a song."

"The baby wants a song, or you want a song?"

"Both." You say. You catch the pull of his lips in the moonlight before he kisses your temple. He sighs as he gets out of bed and grabs his guitar from the corner. He perches on the edge of your bed shirtless, his silver scars on display without shame, and you remember each story associated with them— ghosts of the people you were before baby bumps and shared last names.

"What d'you want to hear?" He asks, strumming a few times to check the tuning.

"Do you know any Patti Smith?" You ask, and he turns to give you a look. "What? I had a life before you." He chuckles, and you lean against your headboard, hands resting on your swollen belly. He looks at the frets like they're an equation for a few slow moments before the familiar ballad fills the space. You smile as he quietly sings the words, mouthing them as he goes.

Little Miller seems to realize their dad is singing because you feel them move in time with the strums. If this kid loves music already, we're going to need more records, you think. You imagine little hands reaching for the guitar as Ellie or Joel play, adding their own dissonant sound to the song previously being played. Maybe you could hire someone in town to make tiny instruments for them to play with once they're big enough. The idea of a little jam circle with Ellie, Joel, and the baby makes your heart sing. As the song ends, Joel looks at you expectantly, his dark brown eyes meeting yours. The tiny heartbeat under your ribs has settled, only occasionally kicking to let you know they're still alive.

"Like clockwork," you say, and he smiles, gently placing the guitar back in its corner. "As judgy as you were with my request, you pulled that out pretty fast."

"I had a life before you," he echoes, and you roll your eyes as he slides back into bed with you. "Sarah didn't like most of the music I played in the truck, but she liked Patti."

"Smart girl."

"What music did Jane like?" He asks, and the way he says her name makes you want to cry. He says it as if it were holy and sacred because it always will be to you. You smile and cuddle close to him. His arms envelop you in warmth, and his smell surrounds you, and you feel safe.

"She was an old soul. She liked ABBA, Fleetwood Mac, and Janis Joplin. I'm convinced we played the Pearl album more than any other person on the planet," you say, kissing his shoulder. "Thank you for always asking about her."

"I like hearing about her," he says as if he were pointing out constellations— easy and undeniable. Her dad didn't even want to hear about her, and now this man who had never met her asks about her because you loved her. Because you still love her, and he loves you. This time, you do cry. You blame it on pregnancy hormones and a lack of sleep, but Joel knows it's something more. He kisses your tears away and rubs soothing circles into your back. "She'll always have a place in our home, d'you hear me?" He asks softly, and you nod.

You fall asleep in his arms that night and almost every night, but this time you dream of little feet standing on your kitchen table, dancing along to Janis Joplin's crooning. You dream of teasing Jane's hair to match Stevie Nicks’ on the cover of her Bella Donna album. You dream of the day she came home, suddenly detesting ballet and wanting to take drum lessons instead. Something tells you she left some of her rockstar energy with you, and the new baby is taking it all in— pieces of her left in so much more than just your memory now.

🍓

Tag list: @evyiione @nyotamalfoy @abbyhaslongshorts

#the last of us #joel and ellie #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #the last of us x reader #joel tlou #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller x female reader #Joel Miller x pregnant reader #he’s so girldad your honor #look for the light

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lottiecrabie · 1 year

Text

rockstar girlfriend – matty healy

tired of being treated like the girlfriend and not like the rockstar, you decide to pull a very rock move in the studio

warnings: 18+, oral (male receiving), fingering, soft dom!matty, praise, bit of degradation, drug use

2696 words

The New York Times calls you ‘everyone’s favorite rockstar’s girlfriend’. Twitter fan accounts gather a curated four picture reel of your best candids and caption it ‘rockstar bf it girl gf’. E!News’ periodic articles updating the world on all your recent outings read ‘Matty Healy and his girlfriend’. (Matty Healy and his girlfriend enjoy a steamy kiss outside a club in Manchester. Matty Healy and his girlfriend spotted in New York City with Coppola Cafe to-go cups. Matty Healy and his girlfriend hold hands as they wait for the London underground.) MusicoCritics title their deep dive on you ‘Matty Healy’s girlfriend’s album is a surprising masterpiece’.

Nevermind that it’s your fourth critically acclaimed album. Nevermind that your living room shelves ⁠— clustered with flower-pressed poetry books, esoteric trinkets found in thrift stores worldwide, potted plants on the edge of death ⁠— hold multiple well-earned awards. Nevermind that you’ve been singing for fifteen years, scribbling incoherent lyrics in the corner of books for longer than that.

Nevermind that you’re a fucking rockstar yourself.

You are Matty Healy’s girlfriend; you are the appendix of a musician. Your boyfriend’s name collects apostrophes while yours dust away, forgotten under aliases, rotting from underuse.

And, well, you’re fucking pissed. An entire career, fifty-seven songs, countless of voice-killing concerts, and it pales to practical inexistence for a nine months relationship.

Not that you don’t love Matty. It’s just⁠— You want to be more, you want to be whole.

You’re in your rented studio, sitting on the dirty couch, reading countless Reddit comments asking ‘who’s Matty’s gf’ and ‘i didn’t knwo she made music lol’, fuming. You should be working on your fifth album, the idea of a ballad lingering in a corner of your brain, but you are too busy driving yourself nearly insane. Injustice grips your guts, twists up around it. You want to scream.

Matty sits beside you, lighting up a joint. His hair is unmade, falling messily around his head. Smoke pours out of his lips. “Stop reading that bullshit,” he says, not unsmartly.

Your lips purse. “I know, I know.” You groan, head falling on the back of the couch. “Fuck, I just can’t help it. This is actually fucking shitty.”

In an effort to distract you, or perhaps loosen you up, Matty passes you the joint. He has two rings, silver and chunky, and chipped nail polish. There is something incomprehensibly attractive about his hands, callused and masculine; long, dexterous fingers around waxed paper. Desire pools in your stomach. You lick your lips, looking away, taking a hit.

“You should go crazy. Be a fucking cliche rockstar just in spite.” Matty grins. “Smoke a ton, do even more drugs. Destroy your voice. Show up late. Be too drunk to play.”

You snort. “Fuck groupies.”

“I might have something to say against that.”

“Die young.”

“You’re already past 27. You’ve lost your chance.”

A smoky laugh leaves your lips. Still, you consider his words, cocking your head. An idea half-blooming somewhere in you. “I think you’re onto something.”

“What?”

“I should make a rock album,” you say. “Be super fucking obnoxious about it, too. Make all these references, interpolate all the greats.” You smirk, giving him a teasing glance.

A curl of hair falls over his forehead. His Adam’s apple bobs as he takes a drag of his joint, cheeks digging it, brown eyes closing in ecstasy. He’s so fucking hot. You’d tell him if it wouldn’t go straight to his head, blow it up until he couldn’t fit through the door at all.

Cheekily, you throw a leg over his legs, straddling his lap. He welcomes you easily, a lazy hand holding onto your hip. “I’ll be the rockstar. You can be my eye candy,” you continue, fingers hungrily climbing to his shoulders.

“Is that so?” His fingers tighten, dragging you closer to him. Your hips roll over him with precision, clever hand working you at just the right angle. Your mouth parts, a strike of pleasure climbing up your spine. You stare at him through your eyelashes. He’s entirely too casual, too pleased. Cocky as he watches you, makes you rock your hips again.

“Yeah,” you nod, breathless.

You grind slowly, teasingly. As soon as you try to speed up, a powerful hand halts you. A puppet to a cruel man who smiles as you fail to get any real action going. The pace is torturous, lighting up your body until all parts of you are aware of him, of his hardening cock. You feel him most of all in the ache between your thighs, in the absence of him.

Frustratingly, your hands dig in his shoulders, clawing at the cotton. It’s unfair how little he reacts, how put-together he seems in his white button-up shirt, watching you grow desperate. Brattily, you add, “Yeah, you’re almost pretty enough.”

Matty laughs, but you can tell he’s a little peeved; overblown ego shot down with your cheeky smirk. He adventures a hand under your band tee, pinches your side, digs his nails into your back, encouraging your hips to rock faster with a rough, ruthless hand. Victory feels like a wave of toe-curling pleasure. Heat spreads under your skin, tightening your muscles. A small, self-indulgent whine leaves your mouth.

A grin breaks his face, cocky and pleased. How quickly the upper hand slips from you. Huffing, desperate to wipe it off, you crash your lips against his, swiping it away with a greedy tongue.

The kiss leaves you hungrier. Matty has always known how to coax the wanton need from you. How to leave you rocking furiously against him, hot and desperate, thoughtless except for the overwhelming need to get off. Throbbing and uncomfortably wet, a high-pitched moan slips into his mouth.

You break away to pant in his parted lips. Your hands hide in the mess of his hair, tugging at the roots, vengeful, careless. Still, Matty groans, rolling his head backwards. You smile too, just as cheeky, just as proud. He puts out the dwindling joint on your sofa, throwing it thoughtlessly in the studio. Finally free, he slips under your shirt, grabbing a handful of your breast.

You bury yourself in the side of his neck, licking and biting under his jaw. With expert fingers, you undo the buttons of his shirt until pearls of breathy, pained moans spill out of him. It sounds like a song, like the rhythm of your favorite melody. You’d bottle it up if you could, burn it on a CD to listen for later.

You sit up, spine straightening, practically ripping your mouth from him. The movement is so sudden you feel it reverberating in your head. Your hips still as thoughts spin in your soupy brain. Matty whines unhappily, hand digging in your back.

It takes five seconds. Once the idea fully forms, you look back at him with a mischievous smile. You start your rolls again, tantalizingly slow. You whisper, half to him but more to yourself, “I’ll be the rockstar, alright.”

Matty frowns. Out of breath, he says, “What?”

You don’t bother explaining. Instead, you stand up, leaving another moan to fall from his lips. Hands tumble from your shirt. Turning around to your mixing board, you hit the record button.

He’s even more confused when you come back to him, standing between his open legs. You take your time, racking two hands through your sweaty hair. Towering over him, you feel power gather around you, a heady mixture leaving you wetter than before.

You’re drunk on him, on the taste of weed and toothpaste, on the look of his thoroughly destroyed hair, of his red, swollen lips hanging onto your every possible word. His chest rises up and down in quick succession. A tempting tent in his slacks draws your eyes lower.

You ignore the throb. You ignore the need. You ignore the coil of building tension. You say, “I’m gonna make you scream.” You fall to your knees.

His legs widen, hips rising in excitement. “Fuck,” he groans just from the sight of you. Mesmerized, he watches in sacred silence as you work on his belt buckle. “Fuck, love, look at you.”

Matty’s own hand helps at his pants, ring twinkling in the low light. Finally, you manage to free his cock, hard and up, begging. You stare at it for a second, appreciating its glory. Your eyes snap back to his.

You follow every expression as it overwhelms his face when you first wrap your hand around it, allowing one slow stroke. His eyes close, his lips part, his head falls. He’s an atheist experiencing religion for the first time. He’s breathing your name, he’s worshiping it.

You smile. Your lips wrap around his tip, sucking on it. His hips jump in surprise. Matty’s eyes snap open, staring at you with a gasp. Exactly what you wanted.

“I want you to look at me,” you say, licking up his shaft. “Don’t stop looking at me.”

You could tease him. A part of you wants to, hand burning to slow down. A bigger part of you wants to ruin him.

You swallow him down. Matty’s breath comes out in heaving puffs amidst the scattered moans. You feel his thighs flex under your hands; his open shirt reveals a taut, tattooed stomach, muscles rippling with ecstasy.

You bob up and down, an electric pace that has you swallowing back a gag. Whatever you can’t fit, you stroke with deft fingers, twisting your wrist just like he likes. Feeling particularly devilish, you moan around his length just to hear him mutter a pained, “Shit.” His hips rise, but you push him back pointedly. Payback is salty and lingers on your tongue.

Feeling yourself choking, you release him, spitting on his dick to lube it up. Matty thrusts up in your hand, eyes rolling back until he remembers your order.

You lick at his tip, swirling your tongue around it, before taking him back in your slick and swollen lips. “You’re so pretty,” Matty says, voice hoarse. “Fuck, you were made for this, weren’t you?” You moan in agreement. “Yeah, that’s right. Made to be drooling on your knees for me.”

Perhaps embarrassingly, you feel a pool of arousal gather in your stomach from his words. Your thighs clench, hips rolling against nothing in hope of relieving that burning ache between them. Your clit feels criminally ignored.

Matty’s hands fly to your hair, racking through the mess he’s made of it. “Show me your tits,” he orders. Your eyebrows shoot up, but he’s only peering down at you with challenge.

Releasing him with a bop, saliva stringing from your lip to his dick, you take your shirt off. You can’t bother to unhook your bra, lowering the cups down and grabbing one of your nipples with your free hand. You pinch meanly, just like he would, and the pleasure spreading through you feels heavenly. A broken groan leaves your lips. “That’s it,” he breathes. “What a good girl, giving me a show.”

You whine. You can feel the control slipping from your hands with every ticking second, but your thighs are so sticky, your clit so swollen, your climax so far.

He gathers a handful of your hair, bringing you to his dick. Your head stings, but you welcome him back with an open mouth. This time, you do none of the work, letting him thrust himself in your throat. Your eyes water as he goes deeper.

“Shhh,” he sighs as tears stain your cheeks. “It’s okay. You’re doing so good, baby.” You nod, coaxing a desperate groan out of him. “What a good, little slut. Taking my dick so well.” Again, you nod, mouth full. Your hips shift, moving left and right uncomfortably. You can’t seem to get any real friction going, but you feel your insides throb against nothing.

“Poor baby,” Matty coos. “You want to come too?” Needy screams muffled by his cock. Matty sneaks his booted foot between your thighs, pressing so deliciously against your clit you cry out. “There you go, baby. Grind.”

And so you do, furiously rocking against his boot. Your hand not busy playing with your nipples wraps around his leg, gripping his calf. The pleasure is so pure your eyes roll back in your skull.

“Eyes on me,” Matty’s rough voice rings through the room. You open your eyes, locking with his darkened ones. “That’s right. I want you to look at me.” His face breaks with a victorious grin. Payback probably tastes like sweat and sweet moans to him.

You can feel both of you grow frantic. Matty bucks into you with a merciless, frenzied pace. His hold onto your head is ruthless; his fingers dig into your scalp, but you only scream more. Your hips follow his rhythm, each leather drag over your cunt making sweet euphoria grip your stomach.

“Gonna come for me?” He thrusts with abandon, practically choking you. Tension builds in your core, pussy clenching. ��Gonna come all over my boot?” Bold words coming from a man just on the edge of an orgasm.

To prove your point, you hollow your cheeks, watching with glee as cries break out of his throat, eyes scrunching tight, cum spilling out of him. You suck on his tip indulgently as he comes in your mouth, cock still pulsing while strings of incoherent promises fall out of him. He strokes your hair tenderly as he slowly comes to himself.

Matty cracks an eye open. He falls out of your mouth and you swallow his seed, watching him as you promised as you lick your lips. Another rough moan leaves him, half stitled by a chuckle. Ringed finger swipes your chin, gathering a forgotten rope of cum he shoves back in your mouth. You suck on it.

He seems to realize then you still haven’t come. Face grimacing in shame, he grabs you by the armpits, putting you back in his lap. “Poor baby. You’re so close, aren’t you?”

“Please,” you whine.

Matty pouts, nodding indulgently. “It’s okay. I got you.”

He sneaks two fingers in your pants. You should be ashamed by the amount of wetness; sticking thighs greeting him home. You’re too gone for that, of course, just sighing happily as he rubs tight circles on your clit.

Your head falls on his shoulder. “I know,” he says, imitating your spineless whine, thrusting two fingers inside of you. You’re so wet there’s not even any resistance, cunt opening to let him in easily.

His thumb continues his drawings on your bundle of nerves. He fucks his fingers into you, rapid and wild. You’re close again before you have time finishing a coherent thought, moaning in his open mouth.

“Right there,” Matty encourages. “Come for me.”

Your body shudders as you scream. You finally lose the tyrannical strings holding your body together. Euphoria spreads to each limb, making your head fall back as the edges of the world blur around you. Tension leaves your body in wiping waves. You flutter around his fingers, clenching and unclenching as you cry out his name.

It takes you a few moments to come back to Earth. Matty takes his fingers out of you, wiping the wetness on the couch. You slap at his shoulders, but he simply laughs. “I love you,” he whispers in your hair, bending down to kiss you.

When you finally regain control of your legs, you stand up to reach your mixing board. Hitting pause, and then play, Matty’s needy groans fill the studio. You throw him a look over your shoulder, but not even a pornographic recording of him could make Matty Healy blush.

And, maybe your fifth album features a song named Blow You. Maybe deep, masculine sounds of pleasure accompany the chorus ⁠— just out of reach enough for people to be incapable of pinning it down. Maybe countless news outlets try to figure out, articles upon articles attempting to elucidate if it really is your boyfriend, Matty Healy, moaning on the track. Maybe they call you by your name. Maybe they even call you a genderbending, masterful, classic rockstar.

#matty healy #matty healy smut #matty healy imagine #the 1975 #the 1975 smut #matty healy x reader #smut #writing #filthy filth #i'm sorry lol #rockstar girlfriend

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ch4singchase · 3 months

Text

The Ballad of Moths | LUKE CASTELLAN

Summary: A god decides to visit Hades' palace.

Word count: 2.7K

Warnings: Mentions of violence and death, mention of harm to children, existencial themes and emotional struggles.

chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four | series masterlist

chapter 04: 'Til The Road Begins…

A solitary, timid moth fluttered through the obscure recesses and shadowy corners of the realm beneath the living world. Its intricately detailed wings, painted in dark hues of black and brown, flapped tirelessly until the delicate creature gracefully alighted on the shoulder of a looming, broad figure.

The imposing man cast a benevolent smile toward the moth, “You've done splendidly, love. You may join the others.”

Yet, the moth remained unconvinced, steadfastly maintaining its chosen perch.

Unperturbed as well, the man reassured, “I shall return to you shortly, I promise. I have matters to discuss with a... Friend.”

If the moth thought about arguing, it gave up soon. The little creature knew well enough not to argue with a god. Familiar with the god, she also understood that the man had a good reason to wish to talk with the King of the Underworld himself, alone.

So, the moth flew away, following the way where others like her would go and rest.

The god observed her departure, a heavy weight upon his heart. Despite this, he swiftly composed himself, resuming his journey into Hades’ palace.

Much of what lay within failed to awe the god; it wasn't his inaugural visit. The intricacies of the doors, portraits, columns, and rooms were familiar details he had encountered more than once.

So, once he found himself in the throne room. The man was unfazed by the black bricks and the bronze decorations, the throne made of bones didn’t take a step back and the other one made of flowers didn’t surprise him either.

It was just another day where he found himself about to have a conversation with the god of death and riches.

“It has been a long time since you gave me the grace of your presence,” Hades’ voice echoed through the room.

The death god wasn’t in his throne; instead, he was wandering around the room, right behind the space where the thrones rested, as if he had been waiting far too long for the other’s arrival.

“It’s a surprise to see you away from your duty,” the King continued, a mischievous smile on his lips. “What has happened?”

The other man crossed his arms behind his back, closing his way to Hades, “I’ve come with a concern, I was hoping you could advise me on this.”

Hades circled back, his eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity. "A concern? You, my elusive friend, rarely bring forth concerns without significance. What is troubling you that warrants your visit?"

The man hesitated for a moment, the weight of the issue evident in his expression. "It involves my daughter, Eurydice.”

Hades paused, absorbing the weight of his friend’s words. The air in the room seemed to grow denser as unspoken implications lingered like a lingering mist.

“I thought she had died,” the god said, even though it wasn’t true. He was well aware the girl was alive; he would know if she had died.

The truth was that he had assumed, from the way her father never talked about her, that he had taken care of her passing.

Now, he was aware that wasn’t the case.

“I always have been intrigued about the choice of that mortal to give this specific name to your daughter,” Hades complained instead, narrowing his eyes to some of the flowers that covered his wife’s throne.

The other god sighed, that wasn’t the first time they had that talk, “She didn’t mean no harm.”

Looking back, he could remember one of the few times he visited Johanna Gaumont and their daughter. The girl was close to her 3rd birthday, already daring to take some steps by herself and pronouncing words like ‘mama’ or ‘birdie’.

Johanna had let him know how Eurydice was fond of birds lately. But that was just a phase, she told him that before, their daughter talked about leaves, fishes, and that just goes on and on and on…

In that very same time that he went to see them, she explained the reason for giving their daughter that name. The god could remember the sound of the woman’s laugh when he asked about it, his lips twisting in confusion.

“I want her to understand the circle of things, how all has its ending,” Johanna beamed down to their daughter, playing with her as she held a robin made of wood, “Eurydice once was a nymph, right? Nature understands how everything lives and then goes, and when Orpheus looked back… I believe she didn’t look at him with sadness in her eyes, but acceptance.”

His chest held a heavy weight at her words, a struggling sigh escaped from his lips, “That’s… A beautiful way of viewing their story.”

“Isn’t it?” Johanna giggled, “I want Eury to understand that same thing, to accept that one day, her friends will go away and the way fate works.”

He looked back at her, watching not sadness, but gratification fill her beautiful blue eyes.

“You know,” she continued, taking his silence as a reason to continue, “One day I’ll go away as well, and I don’t want her to hold on grief, all the sadness that there is when we talk about the end.”

Hades' adamantium eyes brought the god back to their conversation. The pounding in his heart weakened by the mere memory.

“Right, right,” the King nodded, a bitter smile in his lips. He still wasn’t convinced that the mortal didn’t name her daughter that name in spite of who they were- him and the father of her daughter, “What about you daughter? She has already reached her teenage years, right?”

The god sighed, the weight of his concerns evident in his eyes. "Yes, she has. And it's precisely that which troubles me. She's already veering toward the path of that prophecy... I don’t want her ensnared in our potential downfall."

The King of the Underworld paced a few steps, his gaze fixed on the intricate patterns of the throne room floor. An intriguing expression played across his face as he mumbled, "Well-chosen words, my friend." He concealed his uncertainty about how to proceed, then asked, "You're referring to the cursed blade, aren't you?"

The other man nodded, feeling a momentary absence without the comforting presence of his moths by his side. To tell the truth, of a single and specific one, “She’s walking right into the great prophecy itself, despite all my attempts to keep her far from it.”

Slowly, the god sensed the King and his friend’s steps drawing closer. The next thing he felt was a hand on his shoulder. And, in an unexpected turn from the god of death, the last thing he anticipated was a smile.

A sad smile, almost sympathetic.

“I know all too well about prophecies shaping our children’s future, friend,” Hades averted his eyes, but the other god could sense where his gaze lingered. At a hotel, a long time ago—he had seen him soon after what had happened to his own family, “Alecto told me something one day, about how we can’t interfere in the laws of death. And she wasn’t wrong. If your daughter is destined to die in that prophecy, there’s nothing you can do.”

The god didn’t seem to be happy about his friend’s answer, even if he knew that he spoke the truth.

“But,” the palace’s visitor mumbled, unsure about his own thoughts and feelings, “It doesn’t make us hypocrites to love our children but not be able to protect them from their future?”

If any other gods had posed the same question to Hades, he would have immediately expelled them not only from his palace but also from his realm. However, this was his long-time friend, a god he had known since his first days as the caretaker of the world of the dead.

They had weathered many stories together, never stepping away when things got ugly. Regardless of their beliefs, agreements, or disagreements, they always had each other's backs. No matter how much time had passed since their last conversation.

Hades would always understand his friend’s frustration, not taking his words in a negative way, because he knew exactly how that feeling was.

Disappointment. Not only with himself but with their world, their rules, the prophecies, and the many oracles that had once proclaimed them before.

“Honestly,” Hades sighed, sitting at the steps of his throne, inviting his friend to sit beside him, “Until today, I don’t have an answer to that question.”

His friend accepted the invitation, taking a seat beside him. Reflecting on the events of the past, he cast a glance at the King, “How have they been doing?”

“They’re good,” the King answered, his tone expressing how tired he truly was. Perhaps, tired just from thinking about his kids, “Alecto and the others were keeping their eyes on them until a month or two ago; now, I’ve instructed them to monitor Zeus’ daughter… I won’t let what happened to my children go unnoticed.”

It took a few seconds for the other god to grasp the full implication, “You ordered them to take her life?”

“Before you judge,” Hades turned to his friend, a fierce determination evident in his dark, coal-like eyes, “I know how it sounds. But my brother needs to understand the consequences of his choices. He has to comprehend how they affected me and continue to affect me.”

The other god lapsed into silence for a while, finding himself without much to say. The memory of that fateful day still lingered in his thoughts—the consuming rage of Hades and the tears that had flowed until the River Styx nearly flooded the entire Underworld. The past was a tangled mess, a time when they were old yet too young, too reckless.

Mistakes had been made, but the notion of plotting harm against a brother's family was beyond his comprehension. He couldn't fathom committing such an act against his own brother, regardless of right or wrong. He would never intentionally cause pain to what his brother held dear.

However, matters concerning the Big Three and the Olympians were far more complicated than the dynamics of his own branch of the family.

It was his friend's fury, his pursuit of what he deemed justice. If it was the will of fate for such events to unfold, there was little the god could do or say.

He, more than anyone, grasped the relentless cycle of life. People live, and inevitably, they meet their end—doomed to confront their fate, sooner or later. How that end manifested was not within his control.

Accepting this truth stung, but reality is what it is. And sometimes, what brings a pounding pain, even for a god.

"May I ask you for a favor?" he ventured to inquire, finally.

Hades scrutinized him with narrowed eyes, a darkness confined in his icy gaze. "Does that mean you'll be in debt to me?" he questioned.

His friend almost reconsidered but nodded, saying, "If you wish."

"Proceed then," the King urged, a hint of amusement in his tone, "you're quite full of surprises today."

"Eurydice..." The man hesitated, choosing his words carefully, "She crossed paths with Thalia, Zeus' daughter."

Hades burst into laughter.

He simply laughed—a cruel, echoing laughter that filled the entire room.

There was bitterness in it, for he knew the implications that would follow this request.

"Let me guess, you want Alecto to go easy on your daughter if she happens to be between my Furies and Zeus’ daughter," he deduced, it wasn’t a question. The King knew the meaning behind his friend’s words.

The visitor nodded solemnly, acknowledging the accuracy of Hades' deduction. The air in the room grew heavier as the implications of the favor settled between them.

Hades, still chuckling, leaned back against the steps of his throne, the dark, ethereal aura surrounding him accentuating the intensity of the moment. The god of death fixed his piercing gaze on his friend, a mix of curiosity and amusement playing in his eyes.

"You claim that Johanna Gaumont meant nothing by naming your daughter that name," Hades mused, "but the more I hear you talk about the girl, the more it feels like a subtle jab directed at me."

His friend shook his head, holding back a chuckle, “That’s not… I really doubted that she really meant anything like that. I just want to shield Eurydice from a death that it’s not destined to her.”

“Yet,” Hades completed, raising a brow at the god beside him.

Reluctant, the man saw himself nodding to that.

Hades regarded his friend with a thoughtful expression, the laughter fading from his eyes. There was a shared understanding between them, a recognition of the burdens carried by gods who had witnessed the ebb and flow of mortal lives, prophecies, and the tangled web of divine machinations.

“If your daughter tries to stop them from killing the girl…” Hades spoke, the gravity of his words settling into the shadows that surrounded them.

“All I ask is that they don't hurt her,” the god mumbled, hesitation causing his hands to tremble, “As a father, I cannot simply stand by and watch my daughter succumb to a fate not of her choosing.”

Hades nodded in silent agreement, the weight of paternal love a bond that transcended even the divine laws that governed their existence sometimes.

"I’m granting you this favor," Hades finally said, to his friend's relief, "I’ll ask them to not hurt her once I hear from them.”

The two gods sat in contemplative silence, the echoes of laughter replaced by the grim reality of their shared concerns. In the tapestry of divine existence, their roles as distant and observant parents, never able to truly intervene for the best of their children. Always having to work around, make subtle decisions that wouldn't interfere with the order of things.

Was this what it meant to be a good father? Would this be the answer to the hypocrisy of being a god and the father of a demigod?

They would never know; it always felt like they were taking two steps forward and three steps back.

“Thank you, Hades,” the god, usually followed by his moths, said, a weak smile on his face, “I mean it.”

Both of them had duties to fulfill.

“Consider it a small favor between old friends, one I may ask for in return later," Hades responded, his tone carrying a rare warmth. “Just remember, my friend, we may not have all the answers, but we must navigate the complexities of our roles as gods and fathers as best as we can.”

As the two gods rose from their seats, the shadows in the throne room seemed to sway, sensing their power shifting in the air. Fate continued to weave its threads as both of them walked to the entrance of the palace, the King keeping his friend company before parting ways.

Once they reached the doors and they were opened, a solitary moth flapped its wings as it swung its way to a single god’s shoulder. The two gods turned their faces to the being, totally unfazed by its presence among them.

“Why am I not surprised?” Hades asked to himself, lifting a brow as he viewed the moth with dark wings and brownish details.

“I could ask the same question,” his friend stated, looking down at the moth upon his shoulder.

"May your journey back to your duty be uneventful," finally, the King said, a smile persistently in his face.

With a nod of gratitude, the god made his way out of the palace, the moth accompanying him like a faithful companion. The Underworld echoed with a solemn air as he traversed the familiar paths, contemplating the weight of his conversation with Hades.

However, his thoughts were interrupted by the soft fluttering of wings, and he glanced at the moth perched on his shoulder. Its delicate movements seemed almost comforting, a silent presence in the face of uncertainty.

Hades was right, if Eurydice was truly destined to fulfill her prophecies, there was nothing he could do to stop it. All he could do was hope, even if it sounded ridiculous to a god to hope.

But, he hoped. The god hoped that his daughter was strong enough to endure more loss.

Because, by the path she was walking into, she was destined to lose more than she already had.

Taglist: @2hiigh2cry, @yhaywhwvsh, @niktwazny303

(if you wish to be add to the taglist, let me know in the comments!)

#percy jackson fanfiction #pjo fanfic #pjo tv show #pjo series #dionysus pjo #chiron #percy jackson #annabeth chase #grover underwood #clarisse la rue #thalia grace #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #female original character

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restlessmaknae · 1 year

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love roulette | p1h hyung line

It's a casual uni party, and you meet three very different guys that night: Keeho, the chatty bartender; Jiung, the cute vocalist of the band that's playing that night; Taeyang, the guy who's there for the gig just like you.

Who ends up walking you home depends on your choice.

🎲 Are you ready for the love roulette? Spin it & see it!

♦️ Pairing: female!reader/you x p1h hyung line

♦️ Genre: fluff, romance, uni au

♦️ Warning: mentions of alcohol, a dude who doesn't understand no

♦️ Word count: overall 9.9k (each boy's own story is around 2.5k)

♦️ A/N: This series is like a 'choose your own ending' kind of series that starts out with a general setting, but you can decide which boy's story you would like to read further as each boy has their own seperate ending.

♦️ Dedicated to: @dat-town ❤️

♦️ P1Harmony taglist: @tranquilpetrichor, @laaylaazyy, @americanokisses, @kuleo26, @hyu-won, @bamboongi, @syrxiee2, @wccycc, @littlestartonightsposts, @sunooslover, @chang-ryul

🎲 READ FURTHER TO START THE GAME

You knew that this was a bad idea.

You knew the moment your friend slash roommate said that it would be a nice little university party. University parties were neither nice, nor little. Not that you had ever been to one. It's just what you had heard of. Someone always overestimated their drinking capabilities, girls were frequently hit on by rude guys who didn't understand no, and wild stories were going around campus even weeks after the little gatherings.

However, Gaeul's boyfriend, Intak, would be performing with his band at this music venue that was somewhere between a club and a bar. She didn't really beg you to come with her, but she also didn't want to go alone because a douchebag had tried to hit on her last time, and almost ganged up on her with his friends. If it hadn't been for Intak showing up right then, things might have gotten out of hand. So after that experience, you willed yourself to accompany her, at least until her boyfriend's band would finish, and you could go back to the dorms. That was the plan, at least. However, just like with everything at university parties, this didn't work out quite like you had imagined.

Not that the band was bad or anything. In fact, they were pretty good. At least, according to your standards, they were. You didn't really know a lot about music theory, but they were said to be a punk-rock band, and you had your punk-rock phase once.

"They don't really like to identify themselves as only one genre. Just like their name, Evergreen, they are trying out all genres that are well-loved by the people. Punk-rock, pop rock, British pop and so on," Gaeul had explained to you after you had arrived at the venue, and you had been standing by the stage, waiting for the band to start. She had sounded like their manager or PR person or something. She liked to pride herself in the fact that she had done their logo and helped out with their social media sites, so it was no wonder she was so up-to-date with such stuff.

The problem wasn't with them. What's more, standing so close to the stage meant that you had a good enough view of them. Intak was the bassist and rapper, Jiung was the guitarist and vocalist, Hyunsuk was on the drums and Doyum was on the synthesiser. Your eyes kept going back to Jiung with his fluffy, chestnut-brown hair, cute dimples that popped off whenever he was smiling (and he was smiling a lot!), velvety voice that seriously touched your heart when they played a ballad song, and his shy interactions with the audience. At one point, you felt like he was looking at you, right at you. They were singing a song called Lovestruck which was about a boy confessing to a girl that caught his eyes, but he was afraid to approach her as he had never done anything like this before. Maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you, you told yourself, but matched with the lyrics, it felt oddly... fluttering?

Either way, when the band took a break, and Gaeul went backstage to meet up with Intak, you told her that you would go and get some drinks. There was a bit of a queue for the drinks, and you didn't want anything strong either way (one of the reasons you didn't go to parties was that you didn't necessarily indulge in alcoholic drinks).

No wonder the bartender looked a bit bewildered when you asked if they had plain water.

"Uhmm... I mean, yeah, we do have. But if you're bored of plain water, we have some non-alcoholic drinks, too. Not that I want you to have them, but you know, if you're here, it would be a shame to miss out on my very own Winter Wonderland cocktail," the bartender chattered gleefully, and he leaned closer on the counter as if he was telling you a secret when he continued. "Don't tell anyone, but I just call it the Elsa cocktail in my head," he admitted, donning a boyish grin, and you couldn't help but follow suit, your lips curling into a genuine smile.

"Okay, I guess I have to try that Elsa cocktail."

"Sshh, I've told you it's a secret name," the boy shushed you, but there was mischief in his eyes and childish excitement in his smile, so you knew that he was joking.

"What is in it though?" You asked before you would say your final call. You could only guess that the cocktail had such a name because it was white and maybe blue, too.

"Oh, there's some curaçao for the blue, and it also has elderflower syrup, sparkling water, some mint extract and coconut flakes.”

"Oh, okay, that sounds intriguing,” you noted, quite impressed that someone came up with the combination of these ingredients. While you were waiting for your cocktail to be ready, the chatty bartender introduced himself as Keeho, and shared with you how he had come up with the said cocktail himself. He and his friends had this chill sleepover at some campsite after their first semester where there was this do-it-yourself bar, and that's where he had made his Elsa cocktail for the first time.

"It's a good proof that you can have pretty good things when you least expect it," Keeho concluded after winding up his story and finishing your drink.

"Yeah, I agree," you nodded with a friendly smile, not even expecting to bump into such a fun stranger at this place. Even though Keeho seemed like the jokester type, he took his job seriously, and you saw it in the way he was ever so precise with his measurements. However, he couldn't miss the opportunity to do a little shake dance when he was mixing the ingredients in his cocktail shaker.

When you tried the drink, you were pleasantly surprised. It was a bit sour, a bit sweet, but it had such a nice aftertaste, you actually really enjoyed it. Even the blue stuff didn't throw off the balance.

"It's really good," you smiled at the bartender genuinely. He did a little courtesy, then laughed it off, telling you that he was glad to see you enjoying the drink, especially after your plain water request.

You did actually start feeling yourself at this point, but you knew that the break for the band was about to end and there was already a queue behind you too, so you paid and thanked the bartender for your drink. After manoeuvring between sweaty bodies for quite a while, you managed to get back to Gaeul.

"What's that? It looks super cool," your friend immediately beamed at the sight of your cocktail, and you shared both your drink and your funny encounter with the bartender with the girl. She got so pumped up that she asked you to remind her of ordering one for herself once the concert would be over.

As you looked at your watch, you noticed that you still had a bit of time until the break would be over, so you asked Gaeul to hold your cocktail for you because you needed to head to the restroom. There was a bit of a queue, but you managed to finish just in time for the first song. Or you thought so...

"Hey, honey. Are you lost?" A random guy by the wall asked as you were craning your neck to see above the heads of people around, to see if Gaeul was still around the same area of the dance floor or she moved closer. Given that your best friend was quite small (she would behead you if you said that she was adorably petite), you didn't have too much luck this way.

"No," you shook your head confidently, hoping that the guy would get the message. However, instead of doing so, he grabbed your wrist and made you turn towards him.

"Why are you in such a hurry?"

"I'm heading towards my friend, so if you excuse me..." You tried your best to stay composed, but the guy's grip didn't loosen around your wrist, and the noise around you with the band starting on their song heightened, so it was more difficult to gain anyone's attention around you.

You tried to yank your arm away from the stranger, but to no avail. You had all kinds of thoughts going through your head, one more frantic than the other. Should you scream for help despite the loud music around? Should you kick him? Should you bite his arm?

However, in the next second, a tall, similarly unfamiliar boy with clearly dyed, slightly longer burgundy hair stood by you, and peeled the other guy's fingers off your wrist. It was in such a swift moment that you didn’t even have time to think or to protest. Not that you would have protested, to be honest.

"Who the hell are you?" The first guy hollered, quite frustrated, but the burgundy-haired one stayed calm.

"I'm the friend she was heading towards, so if you don't want me to file a complaint for harassment, I advise you to leave," he suggested with a semi-warning tone, but before the other could speak up, he continued. "There are CCTVs operating in here, and you can bet that anyone seeing her clearly wanting to break free from your grip would take her side."

Despite the fact that he wasn’t the friend you had been referring to, his tone was so firm that it didn’t leave room for any doubt. You didn’t even know if there were CCTVs around, but given his unwavering confidence, you wouldn’t have dared to go against his words. Neither did the rude guy, it seemed, as he backed off without apologising, but at least, he was out of sight in the next minute. Your shoulders immediately easened, and you let out a long, long sigh that you had been suppressing so far.

You turned towards the stranger with the chin-length, burgundy hair. Under the neon lights of the club, and with the catchy beats of the love song that was blasting through the speakers as the background music, he seemed like a dream. A dream that came suddenly and a dream that would go away all too soon, slipping through your fingers before you could hold onto reality.

“Are you okay?” He exclaimed over the music around, and despite the stern edge to his voice from earlier, his voice was gentle this time. He also had surprisingly soft features when he didn’t throw daggers with his almond-shaped eyes and when his lips weren’t pressed into a thin line.

“Yes. Thank you so much. For both the question and for helping me out,” you justified after clearing your throat, looking up at him expectantly. You didn’t know why you just stood there still, but your body wouldn’t budge, and due to the loud music around, you needed to be close to each other to understand what the other was saying, so you should have felt a bit nervous so close to someone like him.

Yet, you weren’t nervous.

“It was nothing. Guys like him need to learn a lesson,” he huffed, semi-annoyed, and your heart did a little somersault. It was silly, you knew that all too well. He probably said so out of courtesy, but still, the fact that he had been willing to step in and help you out meant a lot to you. “Are you actually with a friend or alone?”

“Oh, I’m here with my best friend for real. She’s probably close to the stage because her boyfriend is playing in the band that’s on, I’ve just gone to the restroom, and I bumped into this guy when I came out,” you answered him, probably unnecessarily long-winded, but the boy didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he bobbed his head rather seriously, looking around for a moment before his eyes settled on you again.

“I’ll help you find your friend. It’s best if we go together after this. The crowd is also pretty tight closer to the stage,” he offered nonchalantly, and if it hadn’t been for him helping out before, you might have thought that he had ulterior motives. Given the circumstances though, you merely nodded, and made your way to Gaeul while squeezing yourself between sweaty bodies and checking over your shoulder every once in a while to see if the boy was still following you.

When you arrived beside Gaeul, she was so into the current song that she barely realised you were there, so you tapped her shoulder to gain her attention.

“Oh hey, you’re back!” She shouted over the music, and gave you a wide, dazzling smile. Happiness indeed looked good on her, you thought, as you smiled back.

When Gaeul’s chocolate-brown eyes darted from you to the boy beside you who just looked back at her, probably noting the fact that she was the friend you had been referring to without saying anything, you felt like the beat pulsating through the room and sending waves under your feet was in stark comparison to the atmosphere that fell upon the three of you.

The thought crossed your mind that the stranger would definitely leave because he was done with what he had offered to do, so he probably had no reason to stay, and it was awkward either way. You meant you showing up with a total stranger, and coming up to Gaeul as if you had known each other. Yeah, it was for the better if he left…

“Oh hi, I’m Gaeul! I’m her friend and dorm roommate,” the bob-haired girl introduced herself, still shouting over the music to get her message across.

“I’m Taeyang,” the burgundy-haired boy replied in an instant, his voice coming out stronger and more hoarse now that he was also raising his voice to be heard. Your friend nodded, then directed a knowing glance in your direction. However, before you could ask what was that for, a roar of applause reverberated through the place as the song came to an end, the band halting to talk a bit about the next song.

If you thought that was it for the unexpected events happening that day, you were in for a surprise. The rest of the night was even more surprising.

🎲 NOW, CHOOSE YOUR OWN ENDING:

🍀THEO

🍀JIUNG

🍀KEEHO

#p1harmony #p1harmony scenarios #p1harmony imagines #p1harmony x reader #p1harmony x you #p1harmony fluff #p1harmony fanfic #keeho scenarios #theo scenarios #jiung scenarios #keeho x reader #jiung x reader #theo x reader #keeho imagines #theo imagines #jiung imagines

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uwmspeccoll · 2 months

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Copper Sun

Last week we brought you Harlem Renaissance poet Countee Cullen's (1903-1946) first major poem The Ballad of the Brown Girl. Today we present Cullen's second collected book of poetry, Copper Sun, published in New York by Harper & Brothers in 1927, with illustrations by the same artist who illustrated Ballad, the unrelated Art Deco artist Charles Cullen (1887-?). Copper Sun is a collection of over fifty poems that explore race, religion, and sexuality in Jazz Age America, and particularly the possibility of unity between white and black people, as exemplified in the two Cullens, one black, the other white.

View more work by Countee Cullen.

View other books illustrated by Charles Cullen.

View other Black History Month posts.

#Black History Month #Countee Cullen #Charles Cullen #Copper Sun #Harper & Brothers #harlem renaissance #Art Deco #African Americans #Black writers #Black poets #African American writers #illustrated books

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b00kdiary · 2 months

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A Ballad of Flame & Shadow | Azriel

Chapter Eight Snippet:

His head turned, those honey-warm eyes meeting mine, and my heart jumped at the look he gave me.

I hadn't realised the depth of Azriel's eyes until right now, being so close to him. And there was something so familiar, something so comforting at the sight of the gold breaking through the forest of green and earth brown in his gaze.

I couldn't for the life of me figure out what the feeling was.

LITTLE SNIPPET OF CHAPTER EIGHT, POSTED ON WATTPAD AND AO3 (linked)

Comment to be added to a tag list for more updates and sneak peeks like this!

@hellodarling1357 @charlineraven @starrystarkey93 @mockingjaytributes @nelapeach14 @alessiazeni @bishhh2003 @impossibelle @firebreathingbishqueen @lovely-susie @sarawritestories @hellowinterlane @minnieoo @charlineraven @acotarfics-mharmie009 @ithan-holstroms-girl @bionic-donut @blackgirlmagicforever @azzydaddy @shinyghosteclipse @shinyghosteclipse @pinkcowracing @marvelouslovely-barnes @mysticalfuncollectorus @daughterofthemoons-stuff @superspideyparker

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sevikasangel · 1 year

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❥๑𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐈 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 — caitlyn kiramman wishes you could see her besides being a creep, even though she is, factly, your stalker. so when she finds out you are still talking to your toxic ex-girlfriend, she must confront you, rather you like it or not.

ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛ ᴄᴏᴠᴇɴ ᴏꜰ ᴠɪʟʟᴀɪɴꜱ. ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛꜱ: ꜱᴛᴀʟᴋᴇʀ ᴀᴜ + ɢᴜɴ.

— contains: stalking, dark content, caitlyn being creepy, obsession, jealousy, argument, sfw, gaslighting.

— a/n: dedicated to and requested by my bestie @local-matryoshka, my favorite simp. love you, boo.

— word count: 1,5k

caitlyn lurked amongst the shadows of the cold night at zaun. normally, the enforcer wouldn’t wander down around this cruel mistress of a city. her heavy boots earnestly passed through the discarded trash on the ground and the moist cement provoked by the droplets of rain. she couldn’t quite grasp the fact that you would choose somewhere so decadent and depressing like this to live. with all opportunities you were offered…a job, a house, protection at piltover. and yet, here you were.

she slid through the halls and alleyways like a stray cat, the hood she was wearing doing a fairly decent job at hiding her identity from all those criminals who would definitely hold a grudge against her. pilties weren’t welcome in this place, let alone pilties who were cops. her gun was carefully secured into her holster, just in case she had to defend herself. or better, defend you from the dangers.

“you silly girl…” she grumbled to herself. “you should’ve come with me. i wanted to protect you. why do you have to choose the harder way?”

caitlyn’s tall, thin form finally made it to a local bar called last drop. according to all researches the enforcer made, this is somewhere locals come to get wasted, gamble, chase a good fucking, or commit crimes. she frowned. she knew something was up when you didn’t wait for her after your shift at the police station as a secretary was over. you would always allow her to accompany you to the hexgates on your way to zaun. of course she would follow you daily, not that she would ever become sloppy enough for you to notice it. caitlyn finally gathered enough courage, inhaling it with a deep breath like it was cigarette smoke and walked into the bar. the loud ballad music did nothing to grace her ears and all of that smell of alcohol and sweat were not at all pleasant. she couldn’t help but muse on the reason why you would deliberately choose to be somewhere like this. and yet, you would decline every advance she made, her invitations to restaurants, to the cinema, to her house…why? she assumed you must be playing hard to get.

which was not a problem, at all.

my sweetheart thinks we are playing her game, well…we are playing mine.

her brown eyes scanned the crowd until they laid upon you. from burning and stern, they became soft and gentle like the most calm water flow. you had this grip on her that caitlyn found rather difficult to explain. she had seen so much fucked up shit. she lost so much, the ones she loved and trusted deceived and betrayed her until her once soft hurt became stone cold. she’s been through hell and back. but you broke every wall she’d erected. at first, she felt scared, angry even. though how could she hate you, at all? specially with that beautiful smile that would instantly send every concerns away. the sweet scent of your perfume would suffocate each tiny bit of anxiety that was left in her.

your smell was so intoxicating and addicting that she needed to have it for herself. not only that, but all of you. from the roots of your head, to the very tip of your toes. nobody could ever love you as she could. the world was too cruel and dangerous for an angel like you. caitlyn deemed herself as far too corrupted by the past to be considered pure, but she could save you.

“(y/n), hello, i-” she stopped speaking, frowning at the sight of the blonde bartender who leaned on the counter, pouring you a drink flirtatiously. her large breasts were nearly leaking from her deep cleavage shirt. it left little to nothing to the imagination. she fisted her hands and her eyes darkened as she decided to spy on the conversation.

“(y/n), come on, you know you love me and you’ll have to forgive me eventually. you still love me, i still love you…” she cooed and reached on the counter to put her hand on top of yours, her soft digits brushing your soft skin affectionately. her hazel eyes stared into yours and you looked away with a clenched jaw. “please, babe.”

“vanessa, how dare you? i loved you so much, i gave up so much for you...and you thanked me by cheating on me with silco’s guard dog?” you breathed out and pulled your hand back. the bartender sighed and reached for your shoulder instead. “don’t touch me, vanessa!”

“please, (y/n), listen to me…i am suffering too. i hate that i cheated on you and you have all the right to be mad, honey. i just miss you so much. i was your first everything, doesn’t that count? you are just seeing me for my mistake-”

“don’t touch me!”

“(y/n), please, list-”

suddenly a large, slender hand was wrapped around vanessa’s wrist. the grip was tight to the point of pain. your ex-girlfriend shrieked and attempted to pull her arm back. this only served to make her attacker twist their hand. vanessa’s scream turned bloody as her wrist bone had just been snapped like a stick by a stranger.

“i heard her say not to touch her, cheater.”

you opened your mouth in shock and your breath became stuck in terror. the world around you was muffled and distorted. you could only see vanessa hold onto her arm and rush into the back of the bar to seek for help and then caitlyn pulling a chair to sit next to you. with scaredy deer eyes, you averted them to caitlyn.

“w-what was that, caitlyn? why are you here?” your voice was quiet and scaredy.

caitlyn scoffed and took a sip from the alcohol vanessa left behind, nearly slamming the glass onto the counter. the loud noise made you flinch. you never saw caitlyn so angry as how she was now.

“(y/n)...why were you meeting up with your ex? she literally cheated on you, leeched off your money, she was the most toxic bitch you could think of. don’t you have any self-respect?”

your heart hammered in your chest as the fear began crippling in.

“h–how do you know, caitlyn? i-i…i never told anyone.”

“how do you know, caitlyn?” she mockingly repeated as if there was nothing wrong with that. “i know it because i care about you, unlike these people you surround yourself with, (y/n).”

you lowered your head in shame. caitlyn was caring for you and you were being…ungrateful.

“caitlyn..why were you doing this?”

“as i said, because i care about you. you are an angel, (y/n). people will hurt you and take advantage of your innocence and i could never let that happen. it made me bite myself with jealousy whenever i saw that bitch lay her disgusting hands on what was supposed to be mine,” her breath was ragged, voice low and dangerous. it sent shivers down your spine. “i knew she was cheating, so i just made you find out…and after you did, you still denied me. is she better than me, (y/n)?”

you shook your head. factly, you were rather surprised caitlyn had done so much for you. usually, you were the one who had to care and provide for others, but with her…it felt like you didn’t need to have a single thought or worry in your brain. you could shut it down and let her do all of the thinking.

“no…no, she is not. i was just hurt. i needed to heal before anything.

“healing by chasing your ex? are you crazy?”

you lowered your head in shame.

“i am sorry...i just thought i didn’t deserve any better and i can’t be alone…i…i had nobody but vanessa.”

your heart skipped a beat at the feeling of caitlyn’s thumb beneath your chin, tilting up your face to stare at hers. her index finger wiped away your trailing tears and she leaned in to kiss your eyes.

“you have me, (y/n). i will take care of you like no one ever did. you deserve to be protected and treated like the angel you are.”

“i like you, cait…i-i just didn’t know how t-” she put her hand over your mouth and shushed you.

“shhh, i know, darling.” she cooed and kissed the top of her own hand that covered your plump lips. “from now on, you will be mine. i am not having it any differently. i will take care of you…nobody and nothing will stand between us. i am not having it. and about vanessa…i will ensure she never bothers us ever again.”

❥๑𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆: @local-matryoshka , @petitedeer , @enforcermoss , @sugarsweetcookie

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