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cevansbrat0007 · 4 months

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The Scent of You

Summary: Ari loves the sweet scent of you, which is why he's content to live between your thighs.

Warnings: Smut, Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Begging, Oral Sex (fem rec), Pussy Spanking, Slight Chase Kink, Light D/s themes, Minors DNI

A/N: Written for @curls-and-eyeliner. Hopefully this is okay, ya'll. I'm honestly not sure if it worked the way I intended. Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

It’s no secret that Ari adores you, but you’ve learned over the course of your relationship that he is particularly fond of the way you smell. Your natural essence of spiced, sugared vanilla draws him in like a moth to a flame.

Which means he was always looking for a reason to touch you – to pull you close and breathe you in. Whether he’s hauling you against his broad chest to bury his nose in your hair while you’re cooking dinner, or he’s busy cascading soft, sweet kisses along the delicate column of your throat when you’re both snuggled up on the couch.

Your scent is like a drug. It calls to him – like a siren’s song – demanding that your handsome Bounty Hunter give in and help himself to his next hit.

This man is hooked on you and it’s honestly one of the most exhilarating things you’ve ever experienced. Growing up, you’d never dreamed someone would desire you like this; that anyone would want you in such an all-consuming way.

“I’m going to burn the chicken if you don’t cut it out.” You hum, smiling when you feel his brawny arms tighten around your waist. “And then we won’t have anything to eat but mashed potatoes and asparagus.”

“Mm. Then maybe we’ll just have to order-in.” His warm lips dance along your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“Beast.” You try again, intending to issue a light reprimand. Instead your voice comes out soft and breathy.

“You can feed me my dessert while we wait.” Ari’s long, talented fingers travel to the waistband of your pink sleep shorts, lightly tugging at the drawstring. “Just think about it.” You briefly lose your train of thought as you find yourself trying to remember if you were even wearing panties.

You’re pretty sure that you’d neglected to put them on again after your shower. At the time, you’d told yourself that you were trying to save yourself from having to make another trip to Victoria’s Secret.

It wasn’t your fault that your Beast wasn’t always house-trained. He was the kind of man who had a propensity for ripping off your underthings and tucking them into his pocket. Which meant you often had to make adjustments to your wardrobe.

And all of it because the scent of your arousal drove him wild.

Your musings are interrupted when a sudden pop of grease splashes out of the cast iron skillet, just missing both you and your man. “Alright, hands to yourself now, Beast. We’re working around hot oil and I’d feel terrible if you got hurt.”

Jesus H. Christ, you should’ve picked another day to fry this incorrigible man some chicken.

Ari nuzzles his nose in the crook of your neck, gently nipping at your pulse point. “I just need a fix, baby. One little hit and I’ll be good for the rest of the night.”

“Ari…” You blow out an exasperated breath as you reach for your tongs to flip your meat. “You don’t even know if I’ve showered or not today.”

“Don’t care.” He grunts, one big hand reaching into your shorts to possessively cup your increasingly damp pussy. “You know I love how you smell. Almost as much as I love the way you taste.” Ari lips move on to kiss along the shell of your ear. A shudder courses through you when he tugs the sensitive load between his sharp teeth.

“I’m proud to wear my girl.”

Your thighs clench of their own accord, your empty walls clenching around nothing. Apparently your body was just as hungry for him as he was for you.

“Y–you can’t go around just saying things like that.” It comes out as a whimper as your cheeks heat, meanwhile Ari busies himself with grinding the heel of his lightly calloused palm against your already throbbing clit.

“Why not, Duchess? Am I being too crass for you?” He teases as his free hand comes up to knead your breast, squeezing with just the amount of roughness he knew made your knees weak. “Turn that shit off and come feed me. I’ve been dying to get between those thighs all fuckin’ day.”

“But–but…” Your eyes flutter closed even as you reach for the knob that controls the burner, switching it off. Maybe he was right. You hated to waste this, but you could always try again another day.

Preferably on a night when your very persistent Beast was working late.

“There we go. I knew my woman wasn’t the type to let me go hungry.” Ari murmurs, releasing his grip on your now very wet pussy in favor of tugging down your shorts. A growl rumbles deep in his throat as he watches them fall to the ground at your feet. “I knew you couldn’t be that mean.”

“You owe me chicken alfredo from Guiseppe’s, you animal.” You snarl, removing the pan from the heat.

“Consider it done, baby.” You could tell without looking at him that he was obviously pleased with himself.

God this man was an absolute menace. But he was yours, which meant you had to keep him. Hell, you were pretty sure that if you ever tried to put him up for adoption you were pretty sure he’d find his way home.

Back to you. Wherever you were.

Feeling bold, you wiggle out of the Bounty Hunter’s grasp, only to be surprised when he lets you go.

“Bet you can’t catch me.” You challenge, making a sudden dash for the stairs.

Of course you knew he’d catch you. But sometimes you liked running from your Beast – because he was the type to always give chase which would only add spice to the proceedings.

And just like you knew he’d be, your Bounty Hunter is on you before you reach the fourth step. A scream escapes you – but you both know it’s one of excitement. After all, Ari Levinson was every inch the predator. It’s why you lovingly referred to him as “your Beast”.

“Gotcha now, Duchess.” He hisses, a heady mix of exhilaration and pride coursing through his veins. And that’s when you finally notice the impressive tent hidden beneath the fabric of his light gray sweats.

God, you had a feeling this man was gonna wreck you tonight. You just hoped you’d be able to walk in a straight line come tomorrow morning.

Ari takes that moment to flip you over before gently maneuvering your body in such a way that allows you to slide down a couple of steps.

“Yeah, you caught me.” You breathe, your body aching for him. And then you part your thighs, feeling more than a little empowered when you notice the way his imperious gaze darkens with lust at the sight of your glistening cunt. “Now…what are you going to do with me?”

Grabbing the edge of your nightshirt, you slowly pull it over your head, baring your breasts. If this man wanted you and was so willing to *ruin* your dinner for it, then who were you to deny him?

Immediately, Ari buries his face between your slick covered thighs, his powerful hands coming up to quickly throw your legs over his muscled shoulders. A deep, satisfied groan of appreciation escapes his throat as he sucks your pulsing clit into his warm, waiting mouth.

“Holy shit!” You cry, burying your hands in his soft, chestnut strands. “Sir, please!” Your body begins to tremble as you’re treated to the most sensual of assaults.

One thick finger gently prods at your entrance, seeking refuge in your slippery cunt. At the same time, you feel Ari release your sensitive bundle of nerves, content to lap at it with his wicked tongue.

“That's it now. Fuckin' drench me, Bird.” He orders softly, his voice coming out slightly muffled.

And then pauses he pauses again – this time to nuzzle his nose against your slippery folds. Your entire body quivers when he takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent and reveling in your wetness.

“My fuckin’ pussy.” Ari snarls, his flat tongue dragging a long, greedy swipe along your cunt. “Mine.” He pulls away long enough to slap your core in silent demand.

“Fuck yes!” You agree, eagerly rocking your hips in time with each delicious lash of his tongue. He swirls it over your little bundle of nerves, making your toes curl.

“Would wear you all day if you’d let me.” His nimble fingers begin to work you over, stretching you in the way he knew would make you crazy. “Proud to wear my girl.”

“Omigosh!Omigosh!Omigosh!” You wail, your velvety walls clenching around his fingers as he pumps them in and out of you.

“Promise to always feed me when I need it, little Bird.” You feel his teeth lightly graze your clit once more, loving the way it makes you thrash and moan.

That’s right. This man was breaking you down on your living room stairs. And it was so good that you couldn’t even be bothered to make yourself give a proper fuck.

Dear God, this was the most exquisite kind of pleasure.

“Don’t you dare let me starve.” His fingers curve inside you, expertly finding your spot.

Holy fucking shit your man was making one hell of compelling argument, as evidenced by sweet cries and your shaking legs.

“Never.” Your thighs tighten around his head, threatening to smother him even as you gush around him.

Just the way you knew he fucking loved.

“There we go -- yeah, that’s it.” Ari rasps, smacking your right flank, reveling in the way you clench around him as you continue to ride his face. Meanwhile, you’re busy writhing in your man’s arms, trying not to escape his grasp as that familiar coil of pleasure begins to tighten in your belly.

You know he knows you’re close. So he picks up his pace, clearly enjoying the way you’re coming apart under his feral loving.

“I just need one good one from you – just one good one to start. And then I’m gonna give you my cock.” He increases the pace of his fingers, not missing the way your head is thrown back in complete submission. “And after that, I’ll order you dinner.”

“Fuck, Beast!” You pant, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. "Whatever you fucking say - ooh!" Your open palm slaps against the wall as you try to run. But his grip is too strong.

Instead he simply chuckles before pausing his feast long enough to press one hot, open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh - his teeth scraping over your damp flesh as he takes you higher and higher.

“And while we wait, I’m gonna go ahead feed you my cock.” He quips with a feral flash of teeth. “And don’t worry, I’ll make sure you eat every bite.”

END

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zerobaselove · 1 year

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mon amour | seok matthew

pairing: tutor!matthew x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1294

warnings: none ! lowercase intended, not proofread

notes: this is so messy and completely self indulgent but i just think he's endearing.

“i just don’t get it,” you sighed, your head hitting the desk with a loud thud.

this wasn’t the first time you had found yourself here, sitting in the library faced with an overwhelming amount of french notes you just couldn’t seem to comprehend. and you were certain at this rate it wouldn’t be the last.

“here, what if i try explaining it in a different way?”

seok matthew. the kind boy who had offered to tutor you after hearing from a mutual friend that you were struggling. you weren’t sure why he would even want to help you but you were thankful for him nonetheless.

“it’s no use,” you let out another deep sigh, loud enough to draw the attention of some people around you. “the exam is tomorrow morning and i couldn’t even tell you the day of the week let alone all of this stuff.”

“aujourd'hui c'est dimanche,” he beamed, only to be met with your deadpan look. he couldn’t help but laugh at your expression, “it’s sunday.”

“i knew that, genius”

he smiled once again and brought his hand up to ruffle your hair. “see, you’re smarter than you think!”

the comment made your face heat up more than you’d like to admit, and honestly you just hoped he wouldn’t notice.

deciding to wrap it up a few hours later, you bid your farewells, only feeling a little more prepared than when you started the day. but it was better than nothing.

the next day you woke up to a message from the boy you’ve started to grow fond of.

maechu: good luck today, you got this!

you couldn’t help a smile from spreading across your face at the kind message. you didn’t know when you started to smile so brightly from just his name on your phone but it had been creeping up on you the last few weeks and you weren’t sure what to do about it.

but for now, you opted to reply to him, it was the least you could do.

you: thanks matthew, for everything :] i’ll talk to you after!

much to your surprise, the test didn’t feel to out of your skill level. maybe the tutoring actually was paying off.

today had just been full of surprises, because who was there to greet you after your exam other than matthew himself.

“what’re you doing here?”

“c’mon” he grabbed your hand, tugging you down the hall, “we are going to celebrate!”

before you could even respond you were being pulled out the front doors of the school and down to the bus stop.

“will you at least tell me where we are going?” you questioned the boy, trying to keep it cool as you became increasingly more aware of your hand in his.

he simply smiled and shook his head before catching a glimpse of the bus coming down the road and dragging you to two empty seats in the back.

you found yourself people watching as the bus moved along, your hand now free from his grasp, and you couldn’t help but be a little disappointed.

you were pulled out of your thoughts by a nudge on your arm, looking over to see an airpod as an offering. smiling to the boy, you put in the headphone and returned to looking out the window, this time accompanied by what you could only assume was a sam kim song.

“psst, we’re here”

your eyes opened to the feeling of being gently nudged by matthew, his hand back in yours as he led the two of you off the bus at your destination.

you didn’t even remember falling asleep but you were sure you’d never forget the embarrassment of waking up after that. that was until you saw where he had taken you. a small park overlooking the river; it was still early in the afternoon so it was more empty and peaceful than usual, and this is exactly what you needed.

now it was your turn to pull the boy somewhere, leading him to the nearby swing set, sitting beside each other as you rocked back and forth.

“d’you like it?”

“it’s perfect” you nodded, turning your view from the lake ahead to the boy beside you.

before you knew it the sun was starting to set and the air had started getting chillier than you were dressed for, but you had no complaints. it had been nice to finally hang out with matthew outside of the dusty library, and the two of you got along even better than you could’ve thought.

while you had no complaints, your body seemed to tell a different story, and matthew had seemed to notice; offering you his plaid jacket to protect you from the wind.

before you could protest and say it wasn’t that cold, he had already draped the jacket over your shoulders before ruffling your hair once again. it had become a habit of his.

“hey did you check your test score?” you were thankful he broke the silence, maybe he hadn’t noticed the way your cheeks flushed at the realisation of wearing his jacket.

“oh it should be out now shouldn’t it?” you pulled your phone out of your pocket to check, but pausing before you could open the webpage.

matthew seemed to take notice of your hesitation, “do you want me to check?” he laughed, getting a nod from you in return along with your phone.

a smile spread across his face as he opened the results.

“well is it good?” your curiosity was getting the best of you.

“you got a 93!” he smiled, turning the screen so you could read it yourself. you couldn’t help but grab your phone to get a closer look, in absolute disbelief of the results.

before your better judgement could stop you, you had your arms wrapped around matthews frame in a tight hug, mumbling a thank you as your face was pressed into him.

it took a moment but matthew hugged you back even tighter, “it was all you, i told you you were smarter than you thought.”

the adrenaline must’ve spread to matthew because next thing you knew you had both pulled away from the hug and he had planted a chaste kiss on your lips.

“oh my god,” matthew quickly took a step back. “i’m so sorry, i-“ his face had begun to flush a deep crimson. “i don’t know what got into me i just-“

you couldn’t help but giggle at his panic, “matthew.”

he went silent, tilting his head to the side like a puppy dog, a small hum of confusion leaving his mouth.

“kiss me again.”

“what?” he managed to spit out, convinced he didn’t hear you right.

you repeated yourself, taking a step closer to close the gap between you two. that seemed to work as he finally seemed to take the hint. his hand coming up to cup your cheek before connecting your lips in a gentle kiss, this time pulling away smiling from ear to ear. you were sure you were mirroring his expression as you reached up to plant a light kiss on his now flushed cheeks.

“you have no idea how long i’ve been wanting to do that.” he smiled, taking your hand in his.

“i could say the same,” you squeezed his hand, swinging them a bit as you walked. “let’s get back yeah?”

it was his turn to let out a sigh, “do we have to?”

you couldn’t help but laugh as you approached the bus stop. “wouldn’t you rather kiss me somewhere that isn’t cold?”

“i’m not picky really, but does that mean i get to do it again?”

turning to the boy, you nodded. “only if you keep helping me study.”

“deal.”

#zerobaseone #zerobaseonefics #boys planet #boys planet fics #boys planet imagines #boys planet reactions #kpop #boys planet drabbles #zb1 #zb1 x reader #seok matthew imagines #zb1 imagines

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booboothedude · 2 years

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before I let myself get Internet poisoned I wanna say I REALLY LOVED this season finale !!! as a jew the theme of sunrise sunset KILLED ME - the credits where the whole cast sings it ???? devastating. in the lead up to the ep I kept trying to figure out why they’d choose the wedding song as the title to an episode that’s not the wedding, and then the episode started and I immediately went “OH ‘when did he grow to be so tall? wasn’t it yesterday that they were small?’ OBVIOUSLY THAT’S LITERAL” and then laszlo sang it and i almost cried

like don’t get me wrong I am also clown shoes brain rot whatever i literally go “that’s my wife” or “I am in love with you” every time guillermo does anything i GET IT but i think this season really does make much more sense when you work from the understanding that the real Arc driving this season forward is about colin (and also laszlo) - I think we’re kind of used to guillermo being the driving character force because he’s the only one of them who can Meaningfully Change, and he sometimes drags Nandor along with him, but this season the big force of Change was baby colin. guillermo’s changed as much as he can within the confines of this house and master-familiar/bodyguard relationship, and his real arc this season was about realizing that all of that change is ultimately meaningless when he’s still in that same place physically. narratively, I think nandor’s whole Thing this season really existed to serve that shift for guillermo - to provide context and to underscore how deeply and horribly guillermo cannot and will not get what he wants from this medieval master who’s so far removed from humanity (in a literal and figurative sense). and like I think one of the more interesting things it does is prove that nandor is actually potentially MORE capable of change and reflection right now than guillermo thinks or sees - like Freddie is an absolute shit show and I think mostly demonstrates that removal from humanity, but it also shows nandor actually feeling remorse and DOING SOMETHING (even if that something is VERY CLEARLY THE WRONG THING) about it immediately, which we’ve never seen before. Guillermo absolutely didn’t need to listen to or entertain his apologies or explanations, but it’s setting up something really interesting to potentially explore next season (or to totally subvert, which I’m honestly also totally fine with because the plot of this show is secondary to how VERY ENJOYABLE IT IS TO WATCH EACH EPISODE)

i don’t want to imply that this season was exactly what I wanted or that there’s nothing that I think could’ve done better in retrospect. i think they missed opportunities for comedy and for the plot that they DID build with Marwa and that that intentionally-devastating ending was not Great for a long-term WoC side character at the meta level; i think the guide could’ve been More There; i think more interactions between colin and guillermo would’ve been GREAT; i think there could have been more lesbianism in general because there was space for it and it would’ve been really nice. but I also think the fact that the point it builds towards is “nothing is meaningfully changing and this is devastating to us as viewers and to guillermo and also increasingly to the vampires too, especially laszlo and a little bit to nadja and frustratingly not visibly at all to nandor” recontextualizes a lot of this and makes me appreciate the season as a collective unit of storytelling as well as a bunch of ABSOLUTE BANGERS of Fun To Watch Individual Episodes

#wwdits spoilers #wwdits meta #wwdits s4 #baby colin robinson #this is so long oml sorry but ik I’m gonna be Living On The Internet About This for a while #so I want to get my initial thoughts unfiltered thru The Discourse out in the world lol #anyway time to actually pay attention to syllabus day for orgo II lol #cool thing to happen before the first day of classes

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byulsgrease · 3 years

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Hi again~ I was the anon who inquired about smut requests 😅💕 I can't believe you're not flooded with asks honestly, I love your page so much :0

I often see rqs done with the ask attached, so I'll send a separate ask for both ones 💕💕💕💕

The first rq would be Byulyi × Idol!Fem reader~ (I'll refer to reader as R for the rest of the rq just for convenience, so it's not too long 😅)

While closing for one of Mamamoo's love shows,, R is wearing a oversized sweater+stiletto boots, and that's it. The sweater isn't that long, and Byulyi couldn't take her eyes off of R the whole time, turned on by R's revealing dance and coord. When the two arrive home at Byul's apartment for the night, she can't wait any longer to get her hands on R~

-🌺

I'm gonna try bullet points for this one cuz I don't think I have the mental capacity to write a full length thing 😅 but hope this is ok! I def need more practice but gotta start somewhere, thanks for the req :)

something in the way you move

(moonbyul x f!reader)

cw: smut (thigh riding) - minors dni

One last closing act before everyone can go home and sleep!

You're performing a cover of gogobebe dressed in a huge SWFS crewneck and high-heeled boots

Byul stands in the wings just backstage, leaned up against the wall with her arms crossed to decompress from her set

The sweatshirt barely covers your butt and while of course you're wearing safety shorts, she can't help but appreciate the view

It's honestly over once you drop it low for the "la la la" less than 30 seconds in - her mouth goes dry and she can't stop staring

The MR may as well be silent, only thing she hears in her head is the music you'll make for her later

She's secure in her smug satisfaction knowing that despite an entire venue of cheering fans, you're coming home with her tonight

By the time the song ends, she's unconsciously got one leg over the other trying to create her own friction with her jeans, her main goal to get you home and in bed to do anything but sleep as fast as possible

You find it a little strange how fast she rushes you into the car, barely taking time to say bye to her members or even Yongsun

“I see them every day during promos, they’d probably appreciate seeing less of me for a bit”

An unspoken tension hangs in the car, her tongue bitten pink between her teeth like she's using all her energy to keep something in, whatever it is

Arriving at her place she fumbles with the keys, nearly dropping them on the ground in a frantic rush to get the door open

Why's she acting like this - maybe she needs to pee? The venue was a bit of a drive and she did skedaddle pretty quick

Before you can even begin the chore of getting your boots off, her hands dip under your sweatshirt and her knee plants itself between your legs to pin you to the wall, her actions eliciting a small gasp

OH. damn her hands are cold she better get moving

A near growl beside your ear: "You don't even have an idea what seeing you perform does to me, do you?"

Well you do now and she's about to prove it

Her tone sends a jolt straight from your stomach to between your legs, every time

She carries you over to the couch this is exactly why she works out so you're straddling her in a kneel, your knees digging into the back cushions

Your hips roll down into her slowly, a singular moan drawn straight from your lips into her ear has her whispering into yours about how pretty you sound, encouraging you to continue

There's some kind of intrinsic rhythm to riding her thighs, something intuitive, hands on her shoulders to steady yourself, face buried into her neck just above the shoulder, the top of your head pressing into the upright part of the couch

She’s unable to decide what to do with her hands as her mind dizzily fogs over, only hearing the bliss coming out of your mouth

Dig her thumbs into your hips to guide them? Fan her fingers over your ass? Strip you down so she can fuck you properly? The possibilities are endless

She settles on sliding her hands up your back to unhook your bra but not bothering to take it all the way off, not wanting to interrupt you

Her hands come to your front and linger on your stomach, physically feeling the gasps and clenching of your abs throughout your movements

Bra sitting loosely above your chest, she cunningly smiles when she swipes her fingers at your nipples and they’re already hard

Not that you can see her face anyway, but you do see stars flash into your vision with the contact

Her mouth latches onto your neck and a small cry escapes you when her teeth gnaw at your skin, pleasurably painful

The multiple inputs of sensation grow overwhelming, but it just eggs you on to keep going, it’s not like you can fault her for knowing exactly what you like

She’s muttering praises against the skin of your neck beneath your ear, but honestly you have no clue what exactly she’s saying, too busy chasing your high

As your moans get louder and increasingly faster-paced, she can’t help but wish you’d taken the time to undress, or at least get your boots off

She just wants to feel you cum on her bare thigh

But who said this was gonna be the only time?

She can stand to wait

A hand stays on her shoulder and one hooks around the back of her neck, your fingernails digging into her skin in an attempt to steady yourself amidst your frenzied bliss

She doesn’t mind and honestly hopes you leave a mark

She flexes her thighs and you groan at the stiffness as she covers your mound over your shorts with a hand, fingers lightly pressed into your slit to help you out

Your cries ring out fervently, secretly thankful she’s not picking this moment to be a tease

Riding on the combination of her hand and thigh has you ignoring everything except the stars in your vision with every roll of your hips

Honestly she could never tire of watching you, whether onstage or off

The closer you get the more you bury your face into her neck, but she guides you to lean back so she can see your face when you finish

Face to the ceiling, back arched and eyes screwed shut, she pushes your head forward so your chin moves down level with hers

“Look at my face when you cum for me, I know you can”

It takes everything in you to prevent yourself from burrowing your face back into her neck out of embarrassment when you do, a punchy wail echoing breaking out as you mindlessly ride it out

She's taking in every last detail of your pleasure-induced delirium, cunningly satisfied with truly how little it takes to get you like this

Your head finally falls beside hers, the come-down seeping through your body

Her mouth roves over your neck again without skipping a beat

Her hands yank decidedly at the cuffs of your sweatshirt, aiming to slip your arms out of the sleeves and the bra still hanging loosely around your shoulders

Again, who said one time meant the only time?

#errr did I just want to write thigh riding? mayhaps #i still get visceral cringe responses when i write smut sksksk #requested #🌺 anon #moonbyul smut #mamamoo smut #mamamoo imagines #moonbyul x reader #mamamoo x reader #mamamoo moonbyul #kpop smut #gg smut #gxg smut #girl group smut #mamamoo scenarios #girl group imagines #kpop imagines #girl group fic

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jessie-writes-things · 3 years

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Too Far From Home

This was a test for the table fic. I always like to do test runs to get a feel for the character's dynamics before writing longer pieces, plus I haven't done anything full-on smutty in a while, so wanted to ease myself back into it. Still not the best, but I hope it's getting better! 😅

Based on a combination of these smutty prompts.

Pairing: King Arthur x Female Reader

Words: 1k

Genre: Smut

Warnings: P/V, fingering. It's pretty tame. There's some dirty talk if you can even call it that. 😂

Notes: There's absolutely no logic to any of this. There is plot and really no editing. Why are they there? 🤷‍♀️ What is their relation? 🤷‍♀️ Where the fuck did that cloth come from at the end? 🤷‍♀️ Was there actually someone spying on them? 🤷‍♀️ Who knows.

There were a million and one places better suited for this situation, but the problem was they were all too far away. So, you made do with a tree, somewhat secluded deep in the woods. Or so Arthur said it was out of bounds from prying, a boyish smirk playing on his lips as he pressed you against the trunk. There was no space between the two of you, and you could feel another trunk growing against your leg.

‘We’re fine.’ No time was wasted as deft fingers explored under your skirt, lifting it just enough for him to catch glimpse of the holder secured around your thigh, dagger still neatly in its little hiding place and you could feel Arthur’s warm amusement against your neck as he kissed you, ‘No one ever comes here.’

His fingers were creeping higher and higher, lips threatening to attack that sweet spot just below your jaw and it was getting increasingly hard not to lose every ounce of control right there and then, ‘Apart from us?’

‘Apart from us.’ Arthur humoured your anxieties, twisted with a smile. He made easy work pleasing you, kissing and licking every single spot along your neck, paying particular attention to the places that made you squirm for him. But his own arousal threatened to get the better of him, reaching the place he had been searching for only to let out a low groan when he found you were already bear for him, ‘Fuck me.’

‘Don’t think that was the plan, but we could always try.’ You quipped but were eating your words three seconds later when two of those fingers pushed into you without a moment's notice, catching your moan with a sharp breath. The last thing you wanted was some perve to catch you because you were screaming, although you were sure Arthur would have no problem with that whatsoever, ‘Bastard.’

His brow shot up, ‘Play nice or you won’t get fucked.’

At this point, you weren’t sure what was worse; getting caught or not having the chance to get caught.

You moved with him, pushing him deeper, fingers curled around his neck as you tugged his lips down to yours, needing anything to mask the obscene sounds spilling from your mouth. Every little movement of his was magic, sending bolts of energy buzzing through your entire being and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer when he found the place deep inside you that turned your knees weak, thumb brushing against the appendix of your thighs at an almost brutal speed.

But you didn’t have time for that. Not here, at least.

Arthur looked near damn offended when you grabbed his wrist and pulled him away. But that look didn’t last long when you brought his fingers to your mouth, sucking the mess away so he wouldn’t have to dirty his clothes doing so. Because God forbid Wet Stick or Back Lack caught wind to anything of the kind. That was a level of humiliation you would never be able to live down.

Not that having your bear arse rubbing against the ruff bark of a tree was any better, your skirt hiked up around your waist, your legs around his, trousers pulled to his knees because any more would just be a waste of time.

And there was no time for niceties, hips slapping into yours hard enough to have you begging for air. You were already so close and he could feel that, the sticky wetness dripping onto his leg and he managed to get the shirt of your dress down far enough to free your breast. The hot midsummer air was nothing in comparison to the warmth of his mouth, sucking and nipping at any exposed flesh he could reach before taking one of your pert nipples between his teeth with enough pressure to have you seeing stars.

A twig snapped. Arthur stilled, still buried deep inside you, turning to look in the direction of the sound.

The woods had darkened significantly from when you first got here, dusk falling fast but from what you could see no one was there. Or at least you hoped no one was there as you guided Arthur back to you, fingers pulled in his mused hair just hard enough to have him gasping into your mouth, ‘You wanted to fuck me here, so fuck me.’

And fuck you he did with a growl rumbled deep in his chest, feeling it against your own and suddenly he was pounding into you like his life depended on it. Fingers gripped at your thigh, your hip, anywhere to keep you from moving.

You didn’t last much longer, not when he was fucking you so well, pulling wave after wave of pleasure from you until you were limp in his arms, mewling softly, his ruthless pace never faltering. Not that he was far behind, a few more thrusts and he was a dead man, spilling into you until it was leaking down your thigh.

Your bones felt too heavy to move and you honestly contemplated if it were worth just sleeping where you were for the night. Dusk had fully set in, casting the woodland in a golden glow, birds getting out their last songs as the air slowly began to cool.

Arthur was the first to pull away, although not far, just enough to give you both back some decency, using the same cloth he used to clean his sword to wipe your legs before shoving it back in his pocket, all the while wearing a goofy smile across his face, ‘You’re never leaving for that long again.’

#king arthur legend of the sword fanfiction #king arthur legend of the sword #king arthur smut #charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam fanfic #charlie hunnam smut #*charlie hummus #jessie writes

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thesleepiesthufflepuff · 3 years

Text

My Favorite Fics 2020

Alrighty. I read a decent amount of fanfiction this year (mostly thanks to Wizards Hearts/Game of Drarry), and I’m here to list out some of my very favorites. Thank you to all of the creators out there who put so much time, effort, and energy into creating beautiful stories, and here’s to lots of reading in the new year 💜 also, this is in no particular order and all rec notes are from my personal fic tracker spreadsheet (if anyone wants details on how I set up my spreadsheet, etc. please feel free to send an ask!) 💕

1) Change on the Horizon by Static_abyss / @static-abyss [Explicit, 118.6k,]

When things settle down after the war, Harry has trouble figuring out who he’s supposed to be and what’s expected of him. At the same time, Draco finds himself having to decide between what his parents want and what he wants for himself. Together, Harry and Draco embark on a journey to figure out who they are as individuals and what that means for their future together.

A canon AU drarry fic based on the relationship between Mickey and Ian from Shameless.

Hands down one of the best fics I've ever read. Ana did the most amazing job at translating Micky and Ian's relationship to Harry and Draco, although it’s definitely not necessary to know Shameless in order to enjoy the story. The writing is stunning, and I loved every single bit of this

2) I’ll Play Your Game by JayseHasNoGrace [Mature, 52.2k]

After quitting the Auror department at the ripe old age of twenty two, Harry Potter finds a nice, uneventful job in an apothecary. At least, it's uneventful until his old rival Draco Malfoy comes into the shop.

They strike up an unlikely friendship, which evolves into an increasingly convoluted scheme, which then snowballs spectacularly out of control into a tangle of lies and blurred lines.

They'd agreed to a fake relationship — in Harry's case, to get the wizarding world to take him off his 'perfect saviour' pedestal, and in Draco's case, just to be given a chance in wizarding society at all — but neither of them expected just how difficult that might really turn out to be. Especially when the stakes grow ever higher, and they both start falling for each other. Just a little bit.

FAKE DATING!!! Ugh, this was so good. I love the media aspect of it, and the way that everything comes together is just brilliant. A must-read for anyone who loves fake dating!!

3) I Can be Your Lighthouse by orpheous87 / @orpheous87 [Teen, 4k]

When Harry gets called to investigate reports of Dark magic, the last thing he expects to find is an almost unconscious Draco Malfoy. After multiple instances, he resolves to find out what's going on.

inspired by the song The Lighthouse by The Used.

So, so sweet. I love Harry's determination to figure out what's going on. This is such a lovely fic, and I enjoyed every minute of it

4) Freedom to be by Quicksilvermaid / @quicksilvermaid [Explicit, 169.5k]

Harry Potter is the Boy Who Lived.

12 years after the war, he's become the Boy Who Lived For Everyone Else. He has the perfect wife. The perfect house. The perfect job. The perfect friends.

Only nothing feels perfect.

Until one day he stumbles across a club called Release and begins a journey of self-discovery that takes him to a very different place.

This left such an impact on me, and it’s a fic I think about often. I can't even begin to explain how incredible everything about this is.

5) Dear Diary by AWickedMemory (TeddyLaCroix) [Teen, 20.4k]

// This can’t possibly go worse than the last time I kept a diary. //

After the war, Harry picks up a journal to write in… and it writes back. Luckily, it’s not a Horcrux on the other end this time.

Absolutely amazing. The relationship that develops between Harry and Draco as they write to each other was so soft and wonderful, and I would easily read 100k of this!

6) Grounds for Divorce by Tepre [Explicit, 122.2k]

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter.

A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.

I loved this. It was so angsty at times, but well worth it. An absolute classic that I’m so pleased to be able to say I’ve read.

7) Nero Su Bianco by Zuzallove [Explicit, 40.5k]

September 1997. Hogwarts is under the regime of Voldemort and the Carrows. Finding himself alienated by both his friends and his supposed enemies, Draco puts quill to parchment, and writes letters. He addresses them to the only person he can think of, as Hogwarts rapidly falls into chaos and ruin: Harry Potter. He goes to great lengths to ensure the letters are never discovered, and he’s pretty certain he’s done a great job.

Until the day of his trial.

The letters were so much fun to read, even though they were heartbreaking at times. I loved Draco’s characterization in this, as well as how his relationship develops with Harry.

8) Thunder by Keyflight790 [Explicit, 21.5k]

The storm will disappear; the rain will subside; but what's left in its wake will last forever. A story of love and loss, redemption and thunder

I really loved how well Draco's addiction was written. I'm not a huge fan of past relationships, but this was done in such a beautiful way. Plus, talking to dragons!!!

9) dirtynumbangelboy by magpie_fngrl [Explicit, 39.4k]

After Harry’s unfortunate encounter with his ex, Draco Malfoy makes him a proposition. Draco wants his parents to stop matchmaking him and Harry wants to make his ex jealous. All they need to do is simply pretend they’re in love. Problem is… Draco already is.

Amazing. This has absolutely sucked me into the world of fake dating. I could ramble about this forever, to be honest. Simply incredible, and I love how snarky their relationship was. It was the epitome of a good Drarry fic.

10) just tell me when it’s alright by M0stlyVoid / @bonesliketambourines [Explicit, 23k]

Harry’s been fighting tooth and nail for any bit of normalcy he can get his hands on. He’s sick of feeling like something’s wrong with him, tired of feeling different. He thinks he’s finally gotten to the root of it, and has settled into a routine that makes him happy. Naturally, that’s when Draco Malfoy walks back into his life and upends it once again. Has Harry bitten off more than he can chew with his former rival?

YES!! I genuinely loved Harry’s clinginess. This fic was absolutely amazing, and the secret dating was lovely. Plus, bi awakening!!

11) When Hippogriffs and Pygmy Puffs Collide by oldenuf2nb [Mature, 32.7k]

Harry Potter bakes cakes, brilliantly. Draco Malfoy inks tattoos, brilliantly. Owls deliver post, including messages from clients, with an occasional lack of brilliance.

I was really surprised at how much I loved this, especially since I’ve not really read many fics with odd jobs. I absolutely adored the fact that Harry was a baker and Draco was a tattoo artist, and the characterizations were absolute perfection

12) You Send Me (Honest You Do) by firethesound [Explicit, 37k]

As far as potion accidents go in general, and deaging incidents go in particular, Draco knew this could have been so much worse. Harry only lost about ten years, and all his memories are still intact. But the sight of him looking as if he’s stepped straight out of Draco’s Hogwarts memories has dredged up a whole mess of complicated feelings Draco thought he’d buried years ago, and Draco really doesn’t know what to do with any of it.

I absolutely adored this, and I thought the de-aging aspect was done is such a tasteful way. Such a good read.

13) Highly (in)Compatible by daisymondays [Teen, 36.8k]

Draco’s been shagging The Prat Who Lived on and off for a few months when his soul mark starts to change. Draco’s had to accept a lot of adjustments to his life, but accepting that Harry Potter could be his soulmate is one step too far. It can’t be true? Can it?

I LOVED THIS! Oh man, that ending! Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant

14) Kiss the Joy (Until the Sun Rise) by ICMezzo [Mature, 37.8k]

The Room of Requirement was severely damaged in the war, but not so much that it could not provide for one lost student and another young hero—especially when they needed each other most of all.

An amazing, beautiful, tender fic! The ROR has given them the gift of each other, and I honestly love that it's just the two of them and no other characters. An incredible and soft read

15) December Never Felt So Wrong by MaesterChill / @maesterchill [Explicit, 50k]

'Twas the month before Christmas and sixteen year old Draco Malfoy had never felt worse. His attempts to kill Dumbledore were failing and, as usual, Harry Fucking Potter was a constant thorn in his side.

All that suddenly changed when Draco woke up 15 years in the future and discovered that not only was he allegedly shagging Harry Fucking Potter, he also had thinning hair and a five year old son, and no fucking clue how he got there.

Truly brilliant, and I was laughing from the start. The combination of the aging up, Harry’s off-tune singing to Muggle songs, and soft parenthood were all things I immediately fell in love with. Will be reading again and again

16) Catch Me If I Fall by keeli_marie [Explicit, 38.2k]

When Draco Malfoy collides with Harry Potter one morning while dropping the kids off at school, things don’t go quite the way either of them would have expected.

Another absolute gem, and I'm still reeling from how amazing it was. I'm always a bit hesitant with kid fics, but this is one of the best depictions of love between Harry and Draco that I've read. I love how supportive Astoria is. Such a lovely fic

16) Love Found by Peachpety / @peachpety [Explicit, 7.5k]

During Harry’s sixth year, Draco Malfoy joins the Order as a double-agent and continues with his task to get the Death Eaters into the castle as assigned by Voldemort. Draco succeeds with his mission the evening Harry returns from the caves with Dumbledore. The boys reunite on the Astronomy Tower and, with the Death Eater’s arrival, are forced to engage in a fight, driving Harry to come to terms with his feelings about true friendship and romantic love.

SUCH a good rewrite of the astronomy tower scene. I can’t describe how much I love the pre-existing relationship, which is a trope I typically steer clear from. And the snark!!! Such a good fucking fic

17) Taro Milk Tea with a side of Depression by Veelawings / @veelawings [Mature, 1k]

Draco sat through twenty grievous minutes of Ministry-mandated group therapy for Newly Registered Magical Beings & Creatures — then promptly stormed out.

Okay, I loved this. The play format was so cool and fit the narration so well. Absolute perfection and SO. GOOD.

18) The Dragon At The Bottom Of The Garden by Zopno [Explicit, 52.3k]

At 25 Harry Potter's life was simple; he flew, sculpted, and had the vault in the back of his mind to keep all unpleasant business. It was stable, but when Draco Malfoy literally hit him with a giant rock; all that changed.

I loved the storyline, especially Animagus bird Harry!! This was such a unique take on an Animagus and post-war fic, and I loved reading it so much

19) Exposure by GallaPlacidia [Mature, 26.9k]

When Seamus uncovers Draco Malfoy's camboy profile, he, Harry and Ron decide to anonymously book a private show so as to humiliate him later. Fascinated by Draco's confidence, Harry keeps booking private shows under the disguise...

Self prompt: Draco is a camboy. Harry betrays him.

I can't give this enough praise. The hurt of it all was so brilliant. A new favorite for sure

20) you've got the antidote for me by Kandakicksass [Mature, 20.7k]

When Harry Potter unintentionally severs their soulbond before it can fully form, Draco Malfoy resigns himself to a slow death and decides not to burden Harry with a soulmate he's made it very clear he doesn't want.

He's never been selfless before, but for Harry, he can try.

Fuck. Like...fuck. This was so sad and angsty and perfect in all the right ways. Watching everything unfold was so painful but so worth it. Another new favorite

21) A Room Up There (And You In It) by thestarryknight [Teen, 59.2k]

When Preservationist Draco Malfoy was assigned to work on Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, he was excited to delve into the gorgeous Black family antiques. His excitement quickly ended when something in the House decided it did not like his presence one bit. Featuring a grumpy antiques lover who most certainly did not sign up for this, encounters with a vengeful apparition, and a healthy application of Christmas spirit.

Absolutely fucking fantastic. This fic reads intimacy all over, despite there being no sex. I love preservationist Draco and the way in which information about Harry unfolds. I can’t say enough how much I loved this advent fic, and Starry did such a great job

And now for three fics that I have yet to read/need to emotionally prepare myself for:

1) Modern Love by Tackytiger / @tackytigerfic [Explicit, 61.2k]

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

And it really doesn’t seem fair that Draco Malfoy is back in Harry’s life, all of a sudden, and even though he’s wandless, and living with Muggles, and making his mother cry with his lifestyle choices, he’s happy. So what's he doing right, that Harry isn’t?

Because things don’t really change, do they? And if Harry can’t be happy, he’ll settle for a good night’s sleep, some posh antiques, and the opportunity to find out what Malfoy has been up to for all these years.

And that’s what starts it all.

2) Dragons Don't Know Paradise by tainara_black / @teacup-tai [Explicit, 50.9k]

In 2004, when Remus spends two scary weeks in the ITU due to complications of pneumonia and his HIV condition, Sirius walks around the house like a ghost and Harry finds comfort and strength in Draco through a chat in an online LGBT forum. Harry falls for him, but Draco has a lot of secrets and, before long, will need to come clean—even if he believes that no one is able to understand a dragon.

This is a story about falling in love online and about facing the reality of death, but above all, this is a story about hope, finding love and acceptance. (Non-magical / bookshop AU, written for the 25 days of Drarry 2020)

3) Aeternus Solem by onbeinganangel / @onbeinganangel [Explicit, 36.9k]

On December 1st, Harry Potter gets sent halfway across the world to attempt to break a possibly fatal curse on an unnamed British Unspeakable — except said Unspeakable is not unnamed at all and Harry has been in love with him for over four years.

{If anyone spots any mistakes in this list, PLEASE let me know! I hope you all have a lovely New Year’s, and may 2021 be less of a dumpster on fire than its predecessor 💜}

#drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #draco x harry #harry x draco #drarry fanfiction #drarry fic recs #drarry favorites #fay recs

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Note

Nie Mingjue and Wen Ning as conscious fierce corpse buddies

ao3 link

By everyone’s agreement (except his own), Wen Ning was the sect leader.

Of course, practically speaking, Nie Mingjue actually ran everything; he was the one with the experience in it, after all, and he claimed he was no good at teaching, which was the other thing they generally did.

This was, of course, a blatant lie – the few times he did agree to take on some classes, they were by far the most popular – but Wen Ning had yet to figure out how to get Nie Mingjue to do anything he didn’t want to do, and anyway he really was very good at all the work that went into being sect leader, so it all worked out quite well for everybody in the end.

How they ended up with a sect in the first place, Wen Ning will never know.

The school had been Song Lan’s idea, though; that much was certain. Or, well, Wen Ning supposed it was actually Xiao Xingchen’s idea to start with, or possibly both of them, but Song Lan had been the one to make it an operational proposal and anyway Xiao Xingcheng had been a scattered soul at the time so Wen Ning felt pretty comfortable ascribing the idea to Song Lan.

Xiao Xingchen’s back now.

So was Xue Yang, but that was unfortunately unavoidable – their souls had become so intertwined by the time they’d both died that there was really no bringing one back without the other, much to Song Lan’s annoyance. Out of lack of better options, Xue Yang was currently being kept very firmly under control, even lock and key if it seemed appropriate - he didn’t object as long as it was Xiao Xingchen applying the locks - and they hadn’t entirely decided if he was going to need to be executed for the good of society at some point.

Still, at least for the time being, he was being useful. No one could say that Xue Yang wasn’t a genius when it came to inventing new things, even if he wasn’t as good as Wei Wuxian, and their school was as much about research as it was teaching.

After all, demonic cultivation was pretty new. There was a lot out there to discover.

A lot out there to teach.

It wasn’t like not having anyone around to teach them stopped there from being demonic cultivators in the first decade or so after Wei Wuxian’s death, especially given how easily it could be picked up. Unfortunately, most of them weren’t very good at it, and there were pitfalls for any cultivation path, much less such a dangerous one, reviled by the whole world.

Song Lan, who’d picked up the basics during the time that he’d been controlled by Xue Yang, had argued that it was cruel to allow people to pick it up out of desperation and to charge ahead with no guidance – that without a firm hand to show them the way, most people would end up getting corrupted, or just mess something up and end up in a qi deviation.

(Nie Mingjue was understandably a bit sensitive about those, so that was the argument that had worked on him. Wen Ning, for his part, was a little bit bitter about everyone, and hadn’t much cared what happened ot them, but on the other hand what else did he have to do?)

So they’d started the school.

Only about a quarter of their disciples so far were there willingly – most of the others were dropped off by Jiang Cheng, who had some trouble dropping his habits of finding them wherever they were, and everyone agreed that their school was a better place for them than his dungeons – but the number was steadily growing as their reputation got out there.

Their reputation as teachers, that is. Everyone knew about the other thing.

The whole…fierce corpses thing.

Hard to avoid everyone knowing, what with Wen Ning, the Ghost General, being the sect leader.

Obviously in a perfect universe, Wei Wuxian would be the one in charge – of the school, of the sect they formed to support the school, of the whole demonic cultivation path that he invented – but he was busy in Gusu doing…something.

Mostly his husband.

At least he came by to visit on a regular basis?

Though actually now that Wen Ning thought about it, he didn’t actually like the times when Wei Wuxian and Xue Yang would get drunk together and came up with new ideas – it’d been Nie Mingjue who’d figured out how to restore a sense of taste to a fierce corpse, though he refused to divulge where he got the idea or how he’d come up with it but no one really cared to pry too much because it worked – because the ideas were invariably fascinating, innovative, and uniformly awful.

Also, Wei Wuxian visiting usually meant that Wen Ning needed to sit with Lan Wangji all night to make sure he didn’t accidentally liberate any of their staff, usually in the guise of keeping him company, and he knew the man didn’t like him. He always had a look of a man sucking a lemon whenever he visited.

…maybe that was just the name of their sect that he object to.

In their defense, neither Wen Ning, Nie Mingjue, nor Song Lan were especially creative people, Xiao Xingchen and Xue Yang hadn’t yet been revived, little A-Qing hadn’t yet been reincarnated nor revived her memories – they’d just picked the most straightforward name they could think of.

And, well, they were all gui. What was wrong with calling it the Gui Sect?

Sometimes Wen Ning thought that Lan Wangji was unnecessarily judgy.

“What are you brooding about?” a voice interrupted his thoughts, and Wen Ning looked up with a smile.

“Sect business,” he lied, and Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes at him, clearly not believing him for a moment.

“What about sect business? The trade disputes?”

Wen Ning frowned. “We have trade disputes?!” He hadn’t even heard about – oh, no, Nie Mingjue was laughing. “We don’t have trade disputes.”

“We’re supported by all four of the Great Sects, between Wei Wuxian at Gusu, Jin Ling at Lanling, Jiang Cheng – as a favor to the former two – in Yunmeng, and last but not least my brother. Who’s going to start a trade dispute with us?”

That was comforting. Sort of comforting?

“Are we bullying people with our resources?” he asked, worrying his lower lip with his teeth.

“Of course we are,” Nie Mingjue said, sounding satisfied. Ugh, sect leaders. Somehow – with some admittedly fairly major variations in style – they were all the same, always looking for an advantage for their sects.

Wait, he’s a sect leader now. Does that mean he’s like that?

No, he’s a terrible sect leader, which means he’s exempt. A bit like Nie Huaisang had been all those years, as the Head-shaker…on second thought, that was part of a giant plot that had in fact ended with the Nie sect ascendant above all the others – the Jin sect in tatters, the Jiang sect isolated as always, the Lan sect putting all their attention on having to corral Wei Wuxian – so maybe it wasn’t the best comparison.

Ugh. Why is this Wen Ning’s life?

“Stop thinking about running away to be a rogue cultivator again, it’s much too late for that,” Nie Mingjue advised him, not unkindly. Wen Ning hadn’t even said anything. “Besides, you like teaching juniors. Even delinquent juniors.”

“They’re mostly not delinquents anymore,” Wen Ning objected. It was really amazing how being forced to attend a class taught by Xue Yang was enough to drive most young people far away from the mere idea of being a delinquent again lest they risk turning into him – and to help identify the remaining ones that needed to be kept under very close supervision. “Speaking of teaching, when are you taking another class? Your training sessions with Baxia don’t count.”

“From the number of people watching, they should.”

“It still doesn’t count,” Wen Ning said firmly, even if it really probably should – watching Nie Mingjue, a fierce corpse, working seamlessly with a spiritual weapon specifically designed to eradicate fierce corpses was truly a fascinating sight.

Of course, most people were more fascinated by the fact that Nie Mingjue usually did his training shirtless – including Wei Wuxian, irritatingly enough, though interestingly Lan Wangji, who was usually the first one at the vinegar jar, didn’t seem to object – but nothing much could be done about that.

(Fierce corpses did not need to worry about the heat, or sweat, or any of the usual motivations for going shirtless, but Nie Mingjue claimed it was a psychological need based on years of habit-building. For anyone else, Wen Ning would think that they were vain and secretly enjoying the attention, but with Nie Mingjue…it probably really was just habit.)

“Fine,” Nie Mingjue said. “Give me one of the basic seminars; I’ll do that. Not one of the musical ones.”

Wen Ning had learned by now that there was no point in smothering smiles – after all, he was a sect leader, and no one had the right to criticize or yell at him for smiling too much or for taking too much attention to himself.

Take that, Wen Chao.

“No,” he said. “I haven’t forgotten that you’re nearly tone-deaf.”

“At least one of you hasn’t.”

“Xiao Xingchen means well,” Wen Ning said, even though honestly by this point it was pretty clear he was just forcing Nie Mingjue to try out new and increasingly exotic instruments for his own (and everyone else’s) amusement. “It’s a little funny.”

Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes again, looking long-suffering, but he had a pretty good sense of humor about these things.

Also, if he was ever actually upset about something, Nie Huaisang would have fixed it.

No one would have enjoyed Nie Huaisang fixing things, but he would still have fixed it. He always fixed things that affected his brother.

(Example number one: Jin Guangyao, his eventual demise, and everything that happened after that.)

“I actually came here to give you news,” Nie Mingjue said. “Would you like to hear it?”

Wen Ning had politely requested – a little desperately – that Nie Mingjue check first. The other man had a way of just saying things without any consideration for the anxiety of the person he was talking to, with things like “we’ve misplaced a student” or “don’t worry it wasn’t a student we actually liked” or “Xue Yang is on the loose and he’s summoned something again” or, one memorable instance, “Baxia decided to summon a dozen of her close friends and family and they may or may not be attacking the staff rooms, but honestly she’s having so much fun that I don’t really feel like stopping her, thought you should know.”

Wen Ning took a deep breath that he didn’t need, firmed up his emotional resiliency, braced himself, and said, “Yes.”

“A-Qing thinks she found your sister’s reincarnation,” Nie Mingjue said, and the air shot out of Wen Ning’s lungs as if he’d been punched. “You know that she’s been sensitive to these things ever since her rebirth, we did some investigating, and we’re pretty sure. How would you like us to handle it?”

Wen Ning scrubbed his face. “I – have no idea. I thought her spirit was still haunting the place where her ashes were?”

“Just one of her souls, and the new body is one short. They’ll have to be reunited eventually or else she’ll suffer the physical effects of missing a soul, but there’s a way to do it that maximizes the chances of her recovering her memory from her previous life and a way to do it to minimize it.”

Wen Ning put his head down on his desk. “I…I don’t know. Our life was pretty awful, so maybe she’d be better off not remembering? But I also want my jiejie back…I hate decisions. Why did I become a sect leader again?”

“We told you that you didn’t have a choice and you lacked the spine to resist.”

“…thanks.”

Nie Mingjue shrugged. “Sometimes I really do wonder what you did in a previous life to deserve this one.”

Ouch. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Nie Mingjue said. “Come out and spar with me, it’ll help you think it over.”

“I don’t have time to think about anything else while we spar, though…?”

“Exactly.”

“…do I get a choice about this?”

“No. Get a move on.”

Wen Ning let himself be dragged over to the training fields. “You do remember I’m sect leader, right?”

“So is my brother,” Nie Mingjue pointed out and – fair.

“Your brother is one of the most terrifying people in the cultivation world.”

“And he still lets me boss him around. What’s your point?”

…fair.

“No point,” Wen Ning said, and waved to some of their more promising students, who immediately perked up at the thought of getting to watch them spar. “No point at all.”

In the end, he thought, his life hadn’t turned out that badly after all.

#mdzs #wen ning #nie mingjue #my fic #my fics #Anonymous

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365days365movies · 3 years

Text

March 21, 2021: Orlando (1992)

Tilda Swinton...confuses me.

Like, in a good way. Because Tilda may be the most versatile actor working today. I mean, look at the goddamn filmography, and you’ll see what I’ve mean. I’ve seen Tilda Swinton in a lot, surprisingly, and I don’t think anything I’ve seen was bad. For example, I am an ARDENT defender in the portrayal of the Ancient One in the MCU.

I understand the controversy here, but I actually think this is excellent casting. Especially considering...being comic book-accurate would NOT have been a good idea with this role, if we’re trying to AVOID controversy. But Tilda Swinton FUCKING KILLED IT in this role, and I will always be happy for this choice.

Let’s see, there’s Jadis in the Narnia films, as shown at the top, there’s Snowpiercer, as Mason (an amazing character, and an acting job that Swinton disappears into), Moonrise Kingdom as Social Services, The Grand Budapest Hotel as Madame D., and Gabriel in Constantine. Which is a good segue to the next talking point...

Gabriel is pointedly androgynous, and honestly, Tilda Swinton kind of is as well. You may have noticed that I haven’t used any pronouns in referencing to Tilda Swinton, entirely out of respect. Gonna be a little hard to keep up with, so I’ll be using she/her from here on out, only because those are the pronouns that Swinton’s most recently promoted for herself. She��s also referred to herself as queer of some variety, as well as being famously gender non-conforming.

Which is fitting, given that a lot of that public image began with today’s movie, one of her first big roles. I’ll be revisiting Swinton in the independent movie scene in a couple of months, but this may be a good introduction. Instead of spoiling anything off the bat, I’m gonna jump right in. And so, I present: Orlando. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

We begin with a young man named, well, Orlando (Tilda Swinton), a young man with a feminine appearance and a good upbringing. His name means power land and property, but all he really wants is company. He writes and rests by a tree in the day, but falls asleep by mistake. When he wakes up, he runs back to where he’s meant to be, with a tribute to Queen Elizabeth I (Quentin Crisp) playing in the background. And that’s a REAL song, by the way, actually sung in the 1600s for Elizabeth! Very neat.

A title screen flashes, reading “1600: Death”, and we see where Orlando is meant to be. He speaks poetry for the Queen and her court, but is interrupted by the aged queen, who asks whether or not his poem is appropriate for her presence, as the poem is about youth, and Queen Elizabeth is not that. Orlando’s father (John Bott), who is serving as host to Elizabeth, intervenes on his behalf. However, it doesn’t seem to matter to the Queen, as she invites Orlando back to England to serve as her “favourite”. He accepts, and soon lives alongside the Queen. She quickly promises Orlando much land and property, for him and his heirs, but on one condition: that he does not fade, wither, or grow old.

The same wish cannot be applied to Elizabeth herself, nor to his father, as both grow old and die soon afterwards. Fast forward 10 years, and it’s a cold winter in England. Visiting Orlando’s vast estate is a woman from Russia, named Sasha (Charlotte Valandrey), and Orlando quickly falls for her. This is to the dismay of Euphrosne (Anna Healy), his fiancée? I’m not sure, to be honest, but they’re definitely involved, and she’s definitely upset.

However, this is also a scandal for everybody else as well, not just because Orlando’s already engaged, but also because Sasha is Russian, during a particularly poor economic period for the country. Euphrosne angrily throws his ring back at him, and Orlando speaks directly to the audience, telling us that a man must follow his heart. The two go to his private cottage, and they start to make out, when Orlando suddenly comes down with intense melancholy.

Because this is such great happiness that he feels, but this happiness too will one day end. Which is, like, the most emo-shit I’ve ever heard, but I’m kinda here for it. And yet, that happiness does indeed end, when Sasha is forced to return to Russia, despite Orlando’s pleading for her to stay. He asks her to meet him at London Bridge, so that they may elope together.

Later, Orlando happens upon a performance of Othello, noting to us that it’s a terrific play. This is as the death of Othello is being played out, so that’s probably foreshadowing, right? Anyway, Orlando leads two horses through the thick fog, waiting for Sasha to arrive and come away with him. But as a storm sets in, there is no sign of Sasha. And Orlando stands there in the rain. Said rain, though, soon becomes ice, underneath his feet, floating away down the river, along with his hopes of a happy future with Sasha. The treachery of women, according to Orlando.

Over the next week, Orlando languishes in his bed, asleep for the entire time. Increasingly more servants are brought up to try and rouse him, only for him to remain asleep, no matter what they do. But then, he wakes up, noting that he can only conjure three words to describe women, none of them worth explaining.

Forty years later, and the title screen cries “Poetry”! And Orlando looks exactly the same. Guess he really took that whole “don’t grow old” thing from Elizabeth to heart, huh? He speaks to a poet, Nick Greene (Heathcote Williams), and gushes about his poetry, which is a pursuit that he loves greatly. But Nick is...well, Nick is kind of a dick, to be honest. Orlando wants only to share his love and his poetry with him, but Nick’s only in it for the money. Not a true artist, and he mocks Orlando’s poetry, which he reads only after Orlando offers him money. And then, he writes a poem mocking Orlando further, which angers Orlando...but doesn’t stop the money flowing to Nick.

Orlando moves onto his next pursuit, in 1700, in the next section: Politics. Now over 100 years old, Orlando becomes an ambassador to the Ottoman Empire, and travels to Constantinople. There, he receives a somewhat rough and awkward greeting, which Orlando is not helping with. They share some Turkish coffee, Orlando has trouble drinking that Turkish coffee, they drink a LOT of Turkish coffee, and they toast to multiple things, including the “beauty of women, and the joys of love.” Orlando pauses at this, and reveals that he is still suffering quite a bit of heartbreak. His Turkish friend, the Khan (Lothaire Bluteau), bonds with him about this.

After 10 years, Orlando has fully retreated into life as a Turkish man. This is interrupted by a British emissary, sent to bring him news of a new appointment and power from the Queen. However, something goes wrong when the Khan arrives and takes Orlando hostage. The city is under attack, and the Khan asks Orlando if he will help against their enemies. Orlando agrees, and gives them arms, and heads to help himself at the walls. There, he witnesses a man dying, and it shakes him greatly. And just like before, he sleeps it off for seven days. And then...she wakes up.

YUP. WHAT.

Yeah, um, Orlando is now a woman. Like she says: “Same person, just a different sex.” Which is a very interesting premise, not gonna lie. Looks like Orlando now has to live life as a woman, which is going to be...difficult in 1700s Turkey. Or England. Or anywhere. Or any time.

Still, Orlando approaches this new life with aplomb, and without really any needed caution. Parading in some awesome dresses, she greets fellow nobility as the lady Orlando. However, the emissary from earlier, Archduke Harry (John Wood), begins to recognize her as similar to the lord Orlando.

In speaking with a group of poets, however, Orlando learns EXACTLY what men think of women in this society, and it’s not even a little bit good. She leaves, enraged and embarrassed. Harry also speaks with her, assuming that she was a woman all along. However, Orlando’s in EVEN MORE shit, as she’s quickly served with papers that are an attempt to take away all of her property and titles, because Lord Orlando is legally dead, and Lady Orlando is a woman, which one of them says is basically the same thing. FUCKIN’ YIKES, BRUV.

Ah, but Harry tries to help by proposing to her ON THE FUCKIN’ SPOT. He believed that Orlando was perfect as both genders, and is happy to do it. However, Orlando understandably refuses, and after Harry tells her that she will die as a spinster, alone and dispossessed, she runs into a nearby hedge maze. And while in the hedge maze, time passes, and her outfit changes to match the period accordingly.

Forward 140 years now! The year is 1850, and a new chapter begins: Sex.

And as she runs from the maze, she runs into who else...but Shelmerdine (Billy Zane), a man who...Shelmerdine? SHELMERDINE? What fuckin’ witch cursed his entirely family line to have THAT name? That’s the kind of family that was named AFTER a bridge, not the other way around! WHAT KINDA NAME IS FUCKIN’ SHELMERDINE?

Well, I’ve looked it up now, and it is apparently a real name. So, if any Shelmerdines are reading this...I mean, I’m sorry, but also, FUCKIN’ SHELMERDINE? OK, back to Shelmerdine. He’s twisted his ankle falling off his horse, and Orlando is now taking care of him. She reveals, in the process, that she’s about to lose everything. The reasons for that aren’t quite said, but Shelmerdine offers a place at his side, back to the great free land of America.

After having a conversation about the roles of men and women in the world (which is interesting given the context of the film in general), the two fulfill the chapter’s imperative. And we never see the act, but we do get some interesting angles and hand-holding. But the next morning, this post-coital reverie is interrupted by the lawyers from the Queen. The lawsuits have been settled, and Orlando has been legally declared a woman, meaning that unless she has a son, all of her possessions will be lost.

Shelmerdine (I swear, every time I say that name, a fairy gets chlamydia) leaves as well, with the southwest wind. As he heads back to America to fight for freedom, Orlando stands in the rain, facing an uncertain future, and broken fully by the politics of the time period.

And then...the sound of planes overhead. Looks like a new time period once again, heading into the periods of World Wars, and Orlando is now...heavily pregnant. OH. FUCK. Welcome to the next chapter: Birth.

We jump past the period of World War II, and to the 1990s! Orlando is presenting a book to a publisher, and he believes that the book will sell. With her young daughter in tow, she finally goes back to her old mansion, now finally able to go back after losing it 100 years prior. The narration from the beginning repeats, recontextualized for Orlando’s new life. She is over 400 years old, and finally, FINALLY...she is happy.

youtube

And that’s Orlando! I think I loved it. Real talk, this was a fascinating movie, and I’m into it. I’m very much into it. I’m sure there’s more to be gleaned from this film, but I’m glad I watched it regardless. More in the Review, though! See you there!

#orlando #orlando 1992 #sally potter #tilda swinton #billy zane #lothaire bluteau #john wood #virginia woolf #orlando film #fantasy march #user365 #365 movie challenge #365days365movies #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365 movies a year #mygifs #my gifs

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innately-pretentious · 4 years

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Dating Klaus Hargreeves ❤️✨

A/N I’m back lads, and yes this is very long and super messy! Ik I’m super behind but I literally just finished the newest season of TUA and was feeling super inspired. Here are some headcanons for our favourite mess.

You probably ran into each other during one of his late night drug binges, finding him lying on the ground in your local park whilst you were clearing you head, his eyes were moving around, observing the stars in the night sky.

As you slowly approached him you became increasingly concerned, discovering that he was not only watching the stars but also yelling at the blank space next to him. You almost didn’t approach him, writing him off as another high person riding a wild trip, however, something told you to go and check up on him.

When you got next to him, interrupting his seemingly one-sided conversation, you asked him if he was alright.

Turning to you and muttering out a slightly coherent ‘yeah’, you insisted he sit and talk to you for a while, to unload whatever has got him so stressed out. You had nowhere to be and neither did he, that was how he found himself spilling the details of his extremely unique life to a total stranger until the early hours of the morning.

Nothing could prepare you for what he was about to unload, but when he is finished telling you about his family, his father, his powers, Ben and every other intimate detail he could think of, you knew you couldn’t just leave him here. After minimal persuasion on your part you drag him back to your apartment, making him some tea, putting him in the shower and getting him into bed.

Nobody had ever treated him this well, not even his own family. Now this stranger was showing him the greatest display of hospitality, he dozed off with tears in his eyes.

You watch him from across the room, this was probably the first good sleep he has had in a while. You didn’t know what drew you to this strange boy, but you were determined to help him.

He pretty much lived with you on and off for the next few months, hanging out with you multiple times a week. He discovered (with the help of Ben) his growing feelings for you, but he never wanted to act on them.

He is extremely shy initially with showing any signs of attraction towards you. Having been put down by his family for most of his life, he truly believes he will just eventually disappoint you. Ben has been bugging him to make a move for months, it is the first time he has ever seen his usually-confident brother act bashful. You would find yourself often initiating intimate acts or even talking about dating one another, due to his fear of dragging you into his mess of a life.

His insecurities do seem to fade as your relationship progresses, however, you often have to reassure him that his best is more than enough. You will always be there to pick up the pieces as long as he is willing to help.

However, when you do finally get together and comfortable, he is not shy about his displays of affection in any way! You often find that he always has to be touching you in some way. Placing his hand of your thigh while sitting next to each other, draping his arm around your shoulder, leaning into you when watching a movie, reaching for you in the middle of the night, half asleep. You almost wonder if he does it subconsciously. Pulling you into him for a quick kiss, even if it is in public. Not that you mind, you’re just glad he finally let his walls down for you.

Although he dislikes it in the moment, you make a point not to enable him. Instead you honestly ask him about his addictions and try to understand it, nobody has ever done this before. One of the proudest moments is finding him on your doorstep in the early hours of the morning, holding a fresh packet in his hand.

‘Take them, I’m gonna do them and I really don’t want to.’

You teared up at how far he has come, spending the night tangled in each others limbs, telling him how proud you were as he snuggled further into your waist.

Being there for him when his father dies, even though it really doesn’t take much of a toll on him, you tag along to make sure. When you finally meet his other siblings, you truly understand the reasons behind his addiction, often being pushed aside or ignored by his family members. The people that are supposed to care about him most, it takes a lot for you to hold your tongue.

Klaus can be quite a homebody when he wants to be, one of his favourite activities is just hanging around the mansion with you.

He loves finding you in the kitchen, drawn in by the smell of you making something delicious. He will come up behind you, arms snaking around your waist, head tucked into the crook of your neck.

He also loves to play his music loud, so the two of you can scream the lyrics to your favourite songs, dancing around the kitchen like idiots whilst simultaneously trying to cook a meal is a skill you have definitely acquired during your relationship.

Ben is completely in awe of you being able to steer Klaus in such a positive direction, he cannot be prouder of his brother. You often get Klaus to be the middle man in your conversations, even though the two of you have never met face to face, you honestly believe he is one of your close friends.

He introduces you to the clubbing scene, taking you out dancing every other weekend! You notice that he believes getting ready to go out is just as much of the fun, you both take turns picking out each others outfits. Blaring your favourite songs as you paint his nails or he does your eyeliner, leaving your bedroom in a massive mess that you would worry about tomorrow morning.

Dancing together in a packed nightclub, giggling as he attempts to spin you round, sneaking kisses here and there until the lights come on.

When Sunday comes around, you are both allowed to spend the day lazing in bed. Now Klaus is sober, he sometimes finds himself waking up before you. Finding you tucked under his arm in the morning is a dream, brushing your hair gently out of your face as he watches the sun pour in from a crack in the curtain. Nothing could be more blissful.

Occasionally you will wake up alone in bed, these days always make you slightly uneasy. Deep down you know Klaus is probably just downstairs making coffee or running a bath for the two of you, a small part of you can’t help but be scared he has relapsed.

He pretends he doesn’t notice, but his heart aches knowing that you still worry about him, even after all this time.

You always catch him staring at you, he is not really subtle about it either, even if you are concentrating on an important task.

‘Klaus I actually have to work this time!’

‘Hey don’t blame me! I can’t help it if you’re the best thing to look at.”

When you find out about the impending apocalypse, you make a pact to stick together til the end, desperate to get as much time together as possible. During this time he becomes even more protective, never straying too far away from you, even following you into different rooms of to need to go grab something. If any precarious situation arises, he pushes you back, using himself as a barrier between you and the action.

With Five botching the whole time-travel thing, you both find yourself in the 1960s.

When he first arrived in the alley with Ben, he began frantically looking for you, becoming almost hysterical as he felt really alone for the first time in a long time. It took almost everything he had not to raid the local liquor shop to just forget about his predicament for just a moment. Ben is the voice of reason for him.

‘Fuck off Ben, can’t I just feel numb for once, I’ve lost her alright?!’

‘This is the last thing she would have wanted and you know it.’

It’s not until a year later you see each other again. You were revisiting the town where you first arrived in the 60s, picking up some new clothes and planning to get back on the road. Klaus, on his way to the diner for a quick bite to eat could spot you anywhere.

You were shocked when you heard a bang on the shop window, looking up and finding the same hazel eyes you would never forget, Klaus.

He bust through the shop doors, not caring that he knocked over a few clothing racks as he bounded towards you, jumping into your arms. He smelt the same, cigarette smoke masked with fresh cologne.

Landing on the floor together, laughing with tears streaming down your face, you just hold onto each other. (The shopkeeper is yelling, but this is more important than some scattered clothes!)

Having lunch together and catching up on everything you had been up to. He was impressed with you living on the road, finding various jobs and travelling across America. Although the thought of you going out there alone made his stomach flip, scared something bad might happen. When he tells you about ‘Destiny’s Children’ you wish you could say you were surprised, but you really expected nothing less. Of course Klaus would do something as extravagant as this.

That night is one of the best of your relationship. Making up for a whole year of lost time, he holds you closer, your entire body on top of his, head resting on his chest as he lazily rubs circles on your back.

When you are about to pass out you hear soft sobs coming from under you. Sitting up and holding his face in your hands, you reassure him that you’re here, you’re ok, you’re not going anywhere and you’re going to be alright. He grips onto you tighter and sobs into your shoulder, overwhelmed with emotions about how you finally managed to find each other again.

The clinginess does not end there, a year is a long time! Refusing to let go of you waist when you try to get up, always having his hand in yours, picking you up and spinning you round in the pool etc.

He takes full advantage of shopping with you in the 60s, with the fashion being almost as loud as he is. Watching him dance in and out of the racks of clothing, throwing various garments for you to try on. He loves to sneak into your changing room to ‘help’ you change into your next outfit…

When Ben is gone, you are the sole person he goes to for comfort. Holding onto each other and reminiscing about the good memories you all shared. After that day promising not to cry over him anymore, instead you would happily remember everything the three of you went through, looking back at his life positively.

#the umbrella academy #tua #klaus hargreeves #klaus hargreeves imagine #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves headcanon #klaus hargreeves fanfiction #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy headcanon #the umbrella academy fanfiction

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gothamsglam · 3 years

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Can I have Your Name? (a SamBucky ficlet)

for @samshield hope you enjoy 😘

(also on ao3 under @/the_fifth_marauder101)

---

“Thanks, can I have your name?” asked Bucky with a charming smile on his face, pulling out a sharpie. However, instead of writing on an empty class as the poor customer thought, he scribbled down “Tony” on one of those ‘Hello, my name is…’ stickers.

“That’s a wonderful name by the way,” Bucky compliments, because fck you Steve, he can be polite.

He fcking told Steve going into customer service was a great idea. Idiot wanted to continue doing door to door shit, or, even worse, mope around forests for wandering travelers. He told him it wasn’t the 1400s anymore, and to grow up. Damn the supernatural council and their ‘hunt in pairs’ rule, he will go rouge and leave Stevie, he will do it.

“I’m this close,” Bucky had hissed, holding his fingers in the air so Stevie could see,

“Your fingers are touching,” Steve deadpanned.

“Exactly.”

The man doesn’t look up from his flurry of typing, “Thank you, it’s a family name.”

“Sure,” Bucky replies quietly “Alright, your order will be right out,” Bucky grinned, replacing his name tag with the new one without looking away from the brown-haired customer. The second the tag sticks to his shirt, he feels a refreshing rush of energy. Kind of like what he imagines those ‘caffeine/sugar rush’ those damn teens keep harping about.

“Thank y—” The customer—Tony—looks up from his phone to flash him a grin, only to have it fall from his face when he sees the name tag.

This was the fun part. Bucky didn’t break eye contact, maintaining it with the same smile, only now he could tell it felt eerie to the human. Like something wasn’t right.

The man’s brown eyes flitted up and down between Bucky’s face and the name tag, before he surged forward, “What di—”

“Have a good day,” Bucky bit out, still keeping the smile and cheery customer service tone. His eyes were blank, he made sure of it. Honestly, this whole song and dance was unnecessary. Stevie usually just wrote the name tags, and then stuck them on as he was making the drinks. Their shop was typically slow enough that there wouldn’t be people behind to question why the tender had a new name. But Bucky loved to fck with humans. What the hell else was he supposed to do? He’s been alive for 70 generations, let him have his fun.

However, today was a bit different. Another two walked into the shop, Bucky didn’t see it as much as he felt it. Bucky kept his back turned, hollering “Welcome to Stars and Stripes, I’ll be with you in just a moment,” over his shoulder as he made the three drinks. What asshole ordered three drinks?

Bucky’s question was answered when he saw the two men walk over to Tony’s table. One of them kissed Tony on the cheek and the other just faux-gagged before giving Tony a hug as well. Bucky called out the order, eyes tracking the way Tony mumbled something to the two men and both reacted oddly, as they probably should. Bucky would expect no less.

Apparently, he jinxed himself, because the man who hugged Tony came to pick up the drinks.

“Nice name,” said the man.

“Thanks,” Bucky flashed his uncanny valley smile and offered nothing else. The man winked and then walked back to the table.

Bucky did not look at his ass, he didn’t.

---

The next day, the man comes in. Not Tony, but other guy. The cute one.

“Hi my name’s Jacob, how may I help you today?” Bucky asks politely.

The man, to his credit, didn’t bat an eyelash, “Hi I’ll have three—” And he rattled off the same order that Tony had. Bucky resisted the urge to frown, maybe it was just a two-time thing? This group has only come into their shop once before, what are the odds of it happening again, for a third time?

“Perfect,” Bucky slid the receipt across the counter, “Can I have your name?” Bucky asked, as he reached for a pen.

“Nope,” the man replied.

Bucky froze in his moments, “What?”

The man shrugged, face showing nothing but politeness, “I’m the only person in this store, you’ll be able to find me.”

Bucky was stunned as he watched him walk back to the spot the trio was in the other day. As he sat down, the man gave a nod of acknowledgment to Bucky, who was still staring.

His brown—almost hazelnut with the light of the sun—eyes stared into Bucky’s own, and in them all he saw was mischief.

Fck.

---

For the next two days, Bucky kept a—subtle, he wasn’t obsessed or anything—watch out for Tony or The Man. And for those two days, he didn’t see hide or hair of them. Bucky figured they must have been college students from nearby campuses, wandering in when Starbucks was too full, which happens often enough. Then on the third day, he returned.

“Hey, Jacob” greeted The Man, his smile so bright—so bright that Nat would have burned like she does under the sun and threaten to bite the man in the jugular. Bucky, who was too gobsmacked to even deliver his customer service opening, stared at him.

“Not Jacob,” Bucky said, his voice strangled.

The Man chuckled, his eyes sparkling with the same look from the first day he ordered, “Ok ‘Not Jacob’, may I have—” And repeated the same order from the last two times.

“Um, right, uh” Bucky stammered, face growing hot as The Man raised an eyebrow at him smugly, “Can I have your name?”

“Put Redwing,” The Man said, shrugging. The corner of his lips pulled upwards into a happy smirk—how can a person have a fcking happy smirk?—, not that Bucky was only looking at his lips or anything.

“Redwing?” Bucky asked, stupidly. Because why ask, idiot, why ask for clarification? He read somewhere that the psyche is powerful enough to make the body do things, like fake pregnancies. Whether that’s something only reserved to humans is up for debate, but maybe, if Bucky doesn’t ask and lives in blissful ignorance, he can feed off of a fake name. But no, because he’s a bloody fool, he asked.

“It’s my pet’s name,” The Man answered, then looked tilted his head, giving a sheepish smile, “Or at least, that’s what I want to name a pet, I don’t have one.”

“Right,” Said Bucky, suddenly feeling empty in ways that have nothing to do with hunger, “Your order will be right out.”

Their conversation was longer than normal, so when the man went to sit down, the couple came in moments afterward. All three sat in the same place as before.

‘Oh no,’ Bucky thought in dawning horror, ‘Regulars.’

---

“Falcon,” grins The Man, now foregoing any attempts to be subtle and simply being a little shit.

Bucky looked at him, face void of any amusement. At this point, he’s shucked the polite customer service voice and snarked back and forth with the regular like there’s no tomorrow—only in this situation, there is a tomorrow, there always is tomorrow.

Their staring contest probably goes on for a bit too long, judging by the way Tony and his boyfriend—Bucky can feel comfortable calling the two a couple, based on how disgustingly affectionate the two get in the cafe—walk in.

The Man flashed a smile and turned away to greet the couple. An audible ‘Rhodey!’ reached Bucky’s ears. Now, finally, he has a name for one of the dark-skinned men, the one who kissed Tony’s cheek and was currently walking in with said Tony, arm around his shoulders. Only Bucky doesn’t feel that familiar warmth pool in his gut, refreshing his energy levels.

‘Oh,’ Bucky thinks, and watches as the man—his regular—laughs with his friends but also how his eyes flit back to peek at Bucky as names are spoken. ‘oh, loopholes.’

Bucky is so screwed.

---

The names his regular gives become increasingly goofy, and Steve teases him about how flirty they get—Bucky absolutely didn’t have a favorite, and it absolutely wasn’t Angel. But Bucky only believed Stevie when he got a number instead of a random moniker.

“What?” Bucky short-circuited.

The man just sighed, “Come on, I gave you my number, work with me here.”

“You finally did it, huh, Sam?” Tony called out from where he was typing away on his computer, which rested on Rhodey’s legs. Rhodey, who was sprawled out in one of their chairs, nudged Tony with his foot, “Shush, let them have this.”

‘Sam,’ Bucky thinks, and all he can come up with in his blue screened mind is, ‘Perfect’.

In his phone, the name Sam’s contact is under is ‘Angel’.

Steve heckles.

---

“How did you know, Angel?”

Sam looks at Bucky, and Bucky’s struck into silence, The whole world falls around them in muted sounds and lights fade into balls of blurry color, because as they lock gazes all Bucky can notice is Sam’s eyes. Sam’s eyes—his wonderful, soul-deep eyes that shine with mischief and laughter, that glow so bright and rival the heavens when the sunlight reflects off it just so—are sad.

“My friend,” Sam says quietly, “Riley. He was one of yours.”

Bucky nods, and reaches out with his metal hand—an injury from decades ago and a gift from a shapeshifter who hissed that his debt was repaired before slithering off into the night—pulling Sam closer to him. They watch the sun go down from the top of the roof, the stars revealed one by one, twinkling against the darkness of the dusk.

---

(One day, Bucky will ask for Sam’s name again, specifically his last name. Only then, will Sam reply honestly.)

---

AN: This is a more bastardized version of faeries/fae, I just made up my own creature for what Bucky and Steve are. Simply because I just wanted to write a little ficlet about SamBucky and didn’t do much research. Don’t think too hard about it :)

(and the link to the Tik Tok I saw on tumblr that inspired this is also linked on my ao3 fic)

Hope you enjoyed!

-vix

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bamf-jaskier · 4 years

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alright so no one asked for his but I can’t stop thinking about it.

Jaskier is not talented at fighting in anyway shape or from. He’s fit enough to run away pretty quickly and is taller than most people, but honestly he just doesn’t having any knowledge of how to fight. He has a dagger but it’s more for looks that anything else.

Most people assume that after years of traveling through increasingly dangerous situations with Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier would have picked up something, sword fighting, pakour, hand to hand or even would be strong enough to throw a good punch but honestly he’s really useless at that kind of thing.

When Geralt is around, the witcher can normally take care of any enemies they have so Jaskier doesn’t bother and when Geralt isn’t around Jaskier has enough charisma and charm to get himself out of the situation. He’s a bard by trade. He doesn’t like to resort to fighting.

Then he begins to hear whispers from people about The White Wolf’s bard. There are rumours that he is viscious when crossed, that he can hold his own in a fight. The rumors are helpful, Jaskier is accosted quite a bit less and when people see him late in the night, they leave him alone but it begins to push at Jaskier in an unpleasant way. Because, in the end, these are just rumors, falsehoods. He can’t actually fight, he can’t actually go feral or take out a dozen bandits in the night.

He’s not useful to Geralt and once he realizes this Jaskier begins to a feel more than a bit self-conscious. The swords in the windows of local blacksmiths begin to look more appealing and the measly dagger he carries to defend himself begins to looks more pathetic. How could be matched up to Geralt if he’s really as useless as all that?

His mood must be obvious because Geralt begins to give him odd looks that Jaskier understands to mean ‘we really should talk but I’m too much of a coward to say anything’. Jaskier is having trouble composing his music and he feels entirely uninspired.

One night, when they have just left a town and are headed for a contract on a nekker nest Jaskier feels brave enough to ask Geralt.

“Geralt, uh, quick question, no pressure, no commitment here. But, well, I know that you have those big scary swords of yours and well, I was wondering if you think you could teach me how to use them.”

From over the fire, Geralt gives Jaskier the strangest look.

“Why do you want to learn to use swords? There’s not much room to carry them alongside a lute.”

Jaskier tries to edge around the questions, “I just think...it could be fun.”

Geralt raises an eyebrow at Jaskier, “Fun? You once said that watching me practice swordsmanship must be a special type of torture desgined by Witchers for use against bards.”

“Yes, well, perhaps I was mistaken.”

“Jaskier you have never admitted to being wrong a day in your godforsaken life, what is this about?”

He sighed, he might as well admit it. It could be the only that convinces Geralt.

“I’ve been hearing these rumors about my apparently hidden talent at weapons, but the truth is Geralt I can hardly throw a punch and honestly I terrified that...”

He stopped he couldn’t say it. Then he looked at Geralt who was waiting patiently, no judgement in his eyes and it gave him the strength to continue.

“I’m terrified that I am absolutely useless to you as a traveling companion.”

For a moment, Geralt was silent and Jaskier considered bolting then and there but Geralt began speaking in a measure voice.

“Jaskier, by this point in time I truly hope you aren’t measuring your worth on physical prowess alone.”

He looked up, what was Geralt saying? The Witcher must have noticed his questioning look because he continued talking.

“You are easily one of the most talent bards on the Continent, you manage to get people in your pocket within minutes of meeting you and you have the have the terrifying talent of making people forget why they ever hated you in the first place. Jaskier, you don’t need to be vicious and ruthless to be interesting, you don’t need to be strong to be brave, and you don’t have to be useful to be my friend and the most worthy travel companion I have ever had.”

Jaskier blinked. Those weren’t tears forming in the corners of his eyes, nope, the smoke from the fire had just irritated them. He tried to open his mouth to speak but the words came out rough.

“Than-thank you Geralt.”

He grabbed his lute from behind his back and pulled it in front of him. His desire to amass an increasingly immense stockpile of weapons was diminishing and the want to compose his next song was growing. He began to strum a simple pattern on the strings.

Geralt was right. He didn’t have to be the most powerful person in the room. Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t need to be useful to be loved.

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meteor752 · 3 years

Text

Wilbur is just Non-stop

I’m honestly surprised that there isn’t any animatic with this song and Wilbur. Like, I looked it up and there are two Non-Stop animatics, but the first one is about Tommy and the second about Schlatt (Both are very good, look them up)

So, I took it upon myself to rewrite Non-stop to fit British guitar man, since I can’t draw

Also, I am not a song writer, not am I good with these types of things, so be patient with me. Also some things might not make sense, but I tried my best, okay

The song is under the cut

Tommy: After the war I got in politics

Wilbur: A-after the war I got in politics

Tommy: I finished up my studies and I became vice

Wilbur: I became prez, Toms worked next door

Tommy: Even though we started at the very same time

Wilbur quickly began to climb

How to account for his rise to the top?

Man, the man is non-stop

Wilbur: Gentlemen of the cabinet, I'm curious, bear with me

Are you aware that we're making hist'ry?

This is the first real meeting of our brand-new nation

The liberty behind deliberation (Non-stop!)

I am here to inform you that the economy needs work

With my dear assistant

Tommy: Vice President

Wilbur please sit down

We need more trades with the badlands

Write them a proposal

That's all you had to say

Wilbur: Okay

One more thing–

Tommy: Why do you assume you're the smartest in the room?

Why do you assume you're the smartest in the room?

Soon that attitude may be your doom!

Why do you write like you're running out of time?

Write day and night like you're running out of time?

Every day you fight, like you're running out of time

Keep on fighting, in the meantime-

(Non-stop!)

Wilbur: Corruption's such an old song that we can sing

Along in harmony and nowhere is it stronger

Than the SMP

This colony's economy's increasingly stalling and

Honestly that's why he's just public service seems

To be calling me (Non-stop!)

I practiced the this thing, I practically perfected it

I've seen injustice in the world and I've corrected it

Now for a strong central democracy

If not, then I'll be Socrates

Throwing verbal rocks at these mediocrities

Dream: Wilbur Soot, at the Community Convention

Wilbur: I was chosen for the Community Convention

Dream:There as a L’Manburg cabinet delegate

Wilbur:Now what I'm going to say may sound indelicate

Dream:Goes and proposes his own form of government

(What?)

His own plan for a new form of government (What?)

Talks for six hours, the convention is listless

Jack: Bright young man

Quackity: Yo, who the fuck is this?

Dream: Why do you always say what you believe?

Ensemble: Why do you always say what you believe?

Dream: Every proclamation guarantees

Free ammunition for your enemies (Awww!)

Why do you write like it's going out of style? (Hey)

Write day and night like it's going out of style? (Hey)

Every day you fight like it's going out of style

Do what you do

Technoblade: Wilbur?

Wilbur: Technoblade, hey

Technoblade: It’s the middle of the night

Wilbur: Can we confer, please?

Technoblade: Is this an SMP matter?

Wilbur: Yes, and it's important to me

Technoblade: What do you need?

Wilbur: Tech, you're a better at this than me

Technoblade: Okay?

Wilbur: I know I talk too much, I'm abrasive

You're incredible with words

You're succinct, persuasive

This thing needs a strong defense

You're the solution

Technoblade: What do you need help with?

Wilbur: The L’Manburg Constitution?

Technoblade:No

Wilbur: Hear me out!

Technoblade: No way!

Wilbur: A series of essays, anonymously published

Defending the nation to the public

Technoblade: No one will read it

Wilbur: I disagree

Technoblade: And if it fails?

Wilbur: Tech, that's why we need it

Technoblade: Your country is a mess!

Wilbur: So it needs amendments

Technoblade: It's full of contradictions!

Wilbur: So is independence!

We have to start somewhere

Technoblade: No, no way

Wilbur: You're making a mistake

Technoblade: Good night

Wilbur: Hey

What are you waiting for?

What do you stall for?

Technoblade: What?

Wilbur: You won your war

What was it all for?

Do you support me, your brother?

Technoblade: Of course

Wilbur: Then help me

Technoblade: And what if you're backing the wrong horse?

Wilbur: Tech, I studied and I fought and I killed

For the notion of a nation I now get to build

For once in your life, take a stand with pride

I don't understand how you stand to the side

Technoblade: I'll keep all my plans close to my chest

(Wait for it, wait for it, wait)

I'll wait here and see which way the wind will blow

I'm taking my time, watching the afterbirth of a nation

Watching the tension grow

Fundy: I am moving to the SMP

I am accompanied by someone who always pays

I have found a wealthy husband who will

Keep me in comfort for all my days

He may a lot of fun, but there's no one

Who can match this crazy place

Wilbur: My little champion

Fundy: Wilbur

Wilbur: Don't forget to write

Tubbo:Look at where we are

Look at where we started

The fact that we’re alive is a miracle

Just stay alive, that would be enough

And if those in your life

Could share a fraction of your time

If we could grant you peace of mind

Would that be enough?

Tommy: Wilbur joins forces with Jack Manifold

And George Lore to write a series of essays

Defending the new L’Manburg Constitution

Entitled The Federalist Papers

The plan was to write a total of 25 essays

The work divided evenly among the three men

In the end, they wrote 85 essays

In the span of six months

George Lore fell asleep after writing five

Jack Manifold wrote 29

Wilbur wrote the other 51

How do you write like you're running out of time? (Running out of time?)

Write day and night like you're running out of time? (Running out of time?)

Every day you fight, like you're running out of time

Like you're running out of time

Are you running out of time? Awwww!

Ensamble: How do you write like tomorrow won't arrive?

How do you write like you need it to survive?

How do you write every second you're alive?

Every second you're alive? Every second you're alive?

Quackity: I’m campaigning for the lead

I am doing the best I can

To help the people that’s in need

I'm asking you to support me man

George: And what’s in it for me?

Quackity: I know it's a lot to ask

George: What’s in it for me?

Quackity: But it will be worth it you know

George: Q, what would I get out of it?

Quackity: You could be my vice?

George: Let's go

Tubbo: Wilbur

Wilbur: I have to leave

Tubbo: Wilbur!

Wilbur: Look around, look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now!

Tubbo: Helpless

Wilbur: They are challenging my lead

Tubbo: Look around, isn't this enough?

Tommy: He never will be satisfied

Tubbo: (What would be enough)

Tommy: He will never be satisfied

Tubbo: To be satisfied

Tommy & Tubbo: Satisfied, satisfied

Technoblade: History has its eyes on you

Tubbo: (Look around)

Tommy: Why do you assume you're the smartest in the room? Why do you assume you're the smartest in the room?

Ensemble: (Non-stop)

Tommy: Why do you assume you're the smartest in the room?

Ensemble: (Non-stop)

Tommy: Why do you assume you're the smartest in the room?

Technoblade: (History has its eyes)

Tommy: Why do you fight like you're running out of time?

Ensemble: (Non-stop)

Tommy: Why do you fight like

All: History has its eyes on you

Wilbur:I am not throwin' away my shot (Just you wait)

I am not throwin' away my shot (Just you wait)

I am Wilbur Soot Minecraft

Ensemble: (Minecraft) Just you wait

Wilbur:I am not throwin' away my shot

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notanacousticsetcal · 4 years

Text

begin again - calum hood

summary - based off of the song “begin again” by taylor swift. because i adore her and her songs are basically perfectly condensed little stories. so here’s what i think of when i hear that song.

mood board

warnings - hints at prior emotional and physical abuse, some emotional abuse flashbacks. toxic relationship.

word count - 1.9k

a/n - i’m not sure how I feel about it. I think I like it. please enjoy!! i love doing these song-based stories though I think they’re so fun to write so ill probably do more if you guys like it? highly highly recommend listening to the song first. or after if you want but definitely listen to it, its so good.

Took a deep breath in the mirror. He didn't like it when I wore high heels, but I do. Turned the lock and put my headphones on. He always said he didn't get this song but I do, I do.

You straightened your dress in the mirror, sucking in an anxious breath, and applied a thin layer of lip gloss. You glanced down at your heels pushing away his voice in your head. The voice that controlled you for so long. You checked the time, 6:14pm. With that, you grabbed your bag and pulled out your keys, locking the apartment door behind you. A foreign feeling washed over you as you walked down the hall. One that felt a little bit like confidence. You hadn’t felt that in a long time. It was quickly replaced by nerves at the prospect of what would be happening in 15 minutes, but you did your best to suppress them, the constant feeling of not being good enough entering your mind once again.

It was a beautiful day. The sun was still shining though it was getting nearer to the horizon, there wasn’t a cloud in sight. It was a warm 80 degrees.

He would say it's too hot. He would ask to stay inside. You, however, wanted to enjoy it. And that’s what matters, you reminded yourself.

You put your headphones on as you walked along the cement sidewalk and shuffled your playlist. A song you used to love started playing softly into your ear and your finger itched to change it. You almost pressed skip, but stopped yourself. What was it he always said?

“I don’t get this song. The lyrics are kind of silly, don’t you think?” He grabs your hand and gives you that little smile he always did. The empty one that made you feel small.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll change it.” You reach up and change the station, falling back into the passenger seat and resting your head against the window, not knowing exactly why you felt so sad.

He knew how much you loved that song.

You shook yourself out of your thoughts and tucked your phone away, letting the old song play out. It sparked some of those old feelings in you. The ones you had before you met him. Those feelings of contentment and comfort. Happiness.

“I get this song,” you whispered softly to yourself.

Walked in expecting you'd be late, but you got here early and you stand and wave. I walk to you. You pull my chair out and help me in and you don't know how nice that is, but I do.

You stumbled into the small cafe and began to scan the room for an available small table. You were shocked to see the brunette already occupying a table near the window. Your favorite spot. He had a book out, but you couldn’t read the cover.

Not wanting to disturb him, you walked up hesitantly, prepared to wait awkwardly until he happened to glance upwards, but he noticed you right away, closing his book and shoving it in his bag.

“Hey,” he said as he stood up. A smile quickly took over his adorable features.

“Hi.” You glanced down shyly, and his smile only grew. Before you could move, he reached around behind you and tugged your chair out from its position under the table and gestured for you to take a seat. You stared at him, embarrassingly dumbfounded, before quickly taking the seat and muttering a quick, “thank you.”

A small, unfamiliar feeling began to grow in your stomach, replacing the pesky nerves from earlier.

You didn’t know what it meant, but you knew you liked it.

And you throw your head back laughing like a little kid. I think it's strange that you think I'm funny 'cause he never did. I've been spending the last eight months thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end.

“And so I ran out of the room, completely covered from head to toe in flour and practically broke down my mom’s door begging for help. She forbade me from baking ever again and I can’t say I blame her.” You smiled proudly as you watched Calum throw his head back and let out the cutest chuckle at your stupid childhood story.

“That’s fucking hilarious. You’re really funny, you know that?” He looked at you in admiration, the most genuine of smiles on his face. Not a hint of the emotion you used to see in his face when he looked at you. One of apparent disdain and resentment. For what, you didn’t know.

You blushed a deep shade of red.

“You really think so?” Your intonation says the questions rhetorical, but you genuinely wondered.

“We hid behind a shower curtain at Kohl’s and won the entire game.” You finish the story up and the entire table erupts in laughter.

“Max, you never said your girlfriend was such a blast, you should bring her around more often,” one of his friends says from across the table. Max laughs a hollow laugh but you don’t think anyone else picks up on it but you. You’ve gotten pretty good at reading him.

“She’s great, isn’t she?” He grabs your hand. It's a compliment so why does it sound like a threat?

The table continues with their conversation and Max’s jaw sets, his grip on your hand tightening,

“Are you trying to make me look bad?” He whispers.

You lean back in your chair, dumbfounded at his ridiculous comment. “What are you talking about, Max?”

“Stop trying to show me up, these are my fucking friends,” he spits. He looks angrier than you’ve ever seen him, his face tinted red. You glance around the table to see if anyone else is noticing this. They aren’t.

“I’m not trying to show you up. I’m sorry.” You feel so small.

“Just shut up, alright? I just want to spend time with my friends without you ruining everything for me.” With that, he turns away, leaving you to hold back your tears.

You didn’t know it, but from that moment on, you would find it hard to talk in group settings. Or to anyone at all. Because whatever he said, you believed.

And you didn’t want to ruin everything.

“Hey, you alright?” Calum asked, reaching out his hand gingerly to touch your shoulder.

You jumped slightly, partially because you were daydreaming and partially because of the jolt of electricity his touch sent up your arm. “I’m sorry, did I scare you, love?” He laughed and you blushed at the pet name.

“Sorry, sorry, I have no idea why I do that sometimes. I’m so sorry.” You repeatedly apologized, growing increasingly flustered. You shook your head in an attempt to brush away the unpleasant memories that plagued your mind.

“Hey, hey,” he reached out and grazed his fingers against your arm again in reassurance and butterflies practically exploded in your stomach, that gut feeling you couldn't identify earlier growing stronger with every passing moment. “You don’t have to apologize. I was just wondering where you went, is all. I’m curious to know what goes on in that pretty head of yours.” Here comes the millionth blush, you thought as you ducked your head down, a cheesy grin on your face.

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

But on a Wednesday in a café I watched it begin again.

You said you never met one girl who had as many James Taylor records as you, but I do. We tell stories and you don't know why I'm coming off a little shy, but I do.

“Do you like music?” He asked, resting his chin in his palm, all his attention on you. Something you weren’t used to. It made a pink flush wash over your cheeks.

You weren’t aware at the time, but Calum found it incredibly endearing.

“I love music.”

“What kind of stuff do you listen to?”

“Honestly, I mean it when I say I’ll listen to anything, but I think I most enjoy alternative. All the different sub categories. Indie, Folk, Punk, Rock, you name it, I’ve probably tried it. I think I like how all-encompassing it is. What about you?” Talking that much made you clam up a little bit, worried you’d seem annoying. He didn’t seem the slightest bit bothered, though, as his fingers began to drum softly on the wood of the cafe table, his other hand stroking his chin in thought.

“I think I’m the same way. I think all genres have some creative element to offer and what I love most about music is the fact that there are so many different kinds.”

You smiled to yourself, running your finger around the rim of your coffee cup.

“What’re you smiling about?” He teased.

“I just like your passion. That's all.” His expression turned bashful and he gently kicked at your feet under the table.

Calum wondered about you. About how you would freeze up or disregard compliments. About how you remained hesitant to share your interests. About your unwillingness to really let him in. About your passive nature. He wondered about how you flinched at his touch. That hurt his heart. He felt the urge to make sure you felt safe with him.

Most importantly, he wondered who would’ve ever tried to hurt someone as gentle as you.

And we walk down the block to my car and I almost brought him up but you start to talk about the movies that your family watches every single Christmas and I would talk about that and for the first time what's past is past.

“You told him you were from France?” Calum struggled to get the sentence out as he was laughing hysterically.

“Yes,” your hands went to cover your face in embarrassment as you let out a pained groan. “I even faked a French accent and everything but ended up getting a detention anyway.”

Calum continued to cry laughing at your story from your formative years. “You were a little rule breaker back then, huh?”

You laughed and kicked a few pebbles on the sidewalk. The breeze had picked up slightly as a storm threatened the skyline. Involuntarily, a shiver traveled up your spine. “I guess I was. No idea how I turned out like the grandma I am.”

He glanced over at you running your hands up and down your arms to ease the goosebumps and immediately started pulling off his leather jacket. You, of course, protested but he insisted and draped the heavy piece of clothing softly over your shoulders, rubbing them affectionately.

“Thank you,” you said, softly, kicking a few more pebbles on the sidewalk as you made your way to the parking garage.

The jacket smelled expensive and woodsy and you felt yourself cuddling into it, the scent feeling so welcoming already.

Calum felt giddy at the sight. You were blissfully unaware.

A comfortable silence filled the evening air and you felt yourself wanting to talk about him. To tell Calum why you don’t let people in. Why he broke you. Calum chuckled to himself and your train of thought dissipated immediately. His laugh practically made you forget your name.

“Have you ever seen A Christmas Story?”

You smiled warmly. “Of course. I love that movie.” And you felt in that moment, a piece of you slipped away. A piece of you that was never really yours… rather, who you were told to be. That happiness sucking, all consuming, toxic piece of you that left you exhausted and resentful. You decided you didn’t want it anymore. You didn’t need him anymore. You never did, you just didn’t know it.

You were you. And that was enough. More than enough. And it felt so fucking good to start to realize it.

That cool evening on that quiet sidewalk next to that cozy cafe with that smiley brown eyed boy was the night you watched it begin again.

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bytheangell · 3 years

Text

Take Me With You

(For my @shadowhunterbingo square: Traveling | Jimon, Rated Teen, referenced alcohol but no archive warnings/other warnings) (Read on AO3) “I don’t need a bodyguard,” Simon insists. “It was one stupid letter.”

“The letter wasn’t stupid,” Jace says, already regretting his appointment to this job. “It was a death threat, by someone who’s sent multiple things to your unlisted apartment.”

“Well, no one knows where I live on the road, which is where I’ll be for the next three months,” Simon points out.

“Oh, yes, the total inability to track you from a list of cities you’re going to and the dates and times you’ll be there. You’re right, no one will ever find you that way,” Jace says, his tone dripping with sarcasm and more than a little condescending. Simon isn’t a no-name, but he isn’t famous-famous either, and Jace hoped that’d make him a little less awful to put up with than Jace’s usual high-profile assignments. So far it’s the opposite - Simon isn’t taking this seriously at all, which is somehow more frustrating than too much importance being put on minor perceived threats.

Simon sighs. “Fine.” It certainly doesn’t sound like he’s fine with it, but Jace isn’t here to argue. He’s here to do a job.

“Great,” Jace says. “You won’t even know I’m here.”

---

That ends up being a complete lie. Of course, when Jace first imagined blending into the background of Simon’s tour life he hadn’t taken into consideration the fact that Simon drove his own van, which would just be the two of them for extended periods of time.

Jace can tell that he’s putting a damper in the way Simon normally functions during his tours, mostly because he’s quiet while they drive. Then he’ll say something, start to ramble, catch himself rambling, and fall abruptly silent again in a repeating pattern.

“Sorry if I’m cramping your style,” Jace says after one of these repetitions, speaking loud enough to be heard over the music playing in the background.

“You’re not,” Simon insists.

Jace is dubious. “What would you be doing if you were alone?” Jace asks.

Simon doesn’t even hesitate before answering, “Scream-singing at the top of my lungs with the windows down. It’s like, my tried-and-true road trip routine.”

“...so do it. Don’t let me stop you,” Jace says.

“My manager hates it because he’s convinced one of these days I’ll end up losing my voice before a show. It’s probably for the best I’m not,” Simon says before falling silent again.

Jace doesn’t push it, nor does he comment when Simon starts to sing to a song that comes on about half an hour later, his voice growing louder and louder until all the windows are down and he’s shouting lyrics into the cool night air.

Jace has to fight the urge to join him. Normally he doesn’t have an issue staying focused on a job but Simon has this disarming way of making Jace want to relax around him. Somehow what he thought would be his easiest job to date continues to throw surprising complications his way.

Still, he keeps his mouth shut and enjoys Simon’s singing as they continue driving into the night.

---

Watching Simon with his fans is nerve-wracking. There’s no telling who might be a threat, not when everyone seems so down-to-earth, much like Simon himself. There aren’t any obviously obsessive fangirls and normal tells like knowing too many personal details is just the norm, with multiple people casually asking Simon about how his Bubbie Helen is doing or about the cat he left at home with Clary during his tour, or the most recent book he’s been reading and chatting about online. It’s difficult to pick out a potential stalker when everyone knows what Jace would typically consider more personal details than usual about Simon.

Jace watches these pre- and post-show encounters with a feeling more like he’s observing conversations between old friends rather than a musician and his fans, signatures and photo ops aside. Simon knows some of them by name, remembers birthdays mentioned over social media or live chats, and even recalls previous conversations. It’s impressive.

Dressed in plain clothes so he blends in with the crowd, Jace grows increasingly impressed with Simon the more time he spends with him. Plenty of people claim to be humble, but few often are in practice. Not Simon. Simon is everything he told Jace when they first met. He’s the same way with his fans that he is in private with Jace, which is the same way he is with his family and friends - Simon’s just, well, Simon, honestly and earnestly and unapologetically.

It’s refreshing. It’s also just another thing for Jace to push to the back of his mind, because he doesn’t need to like the guy - he just needs to protect him. Simon looks up from the table he’s signing CDs at and shoots Jace a beaming smile, and Jace has to actively force himself not to smile back and simply nod his head in acknowledgment instead.

“It’s an assignment, Herondale. Get your shit together,” Jace mutters to himself from the corner of the room. It’s a reminder he repeats more often over the upcoming weeks than he’s comfortable admitting.

---

“Please,” Jace begs after the first two weeks of shows. “I will pay for a better hotel. Let me pay for a better hotel.”

Simon is shaking his head in response before Jace finishes the request.

“Why?!” Jace glances critically around the room. “Do you want to get murdered in a shady motel? Just because I can keep you alive doesn’t mean we have to actively test it every night when we could have a door that doesn’t look like my 11-year-old brother could kick it in.”

“You have a brother?” Simon asks, ignoring everything else Jace said as he tosses his duffel bag (because Simon doesn’t even have a proper suitcase) onto a bed Jace feels the instinctive need to run a blacklight over.

Jace hesitates to answer because this is a job and he isn’t meant to share personal information about himself with his assignment. It’s strange because normally the people he’s tasked to protect are such self-absorbed assholes they barely spare Jace a second glance, let alone casual conversation.

He’s aware that the pause he takes after what should be a simple question is way too long when Simon frowns, brows pinching together.

“Two brothers, actually. One older, one younger, and a sister,” Jace finally decides to share. It’s all he intends on saying, not wanting to be rude and not answer at all, but when Simon brings up his own sister and keeps talking, keeps asking curious, harmless questions, Jace finds himself answering without thinking.

Simon is easy to talk to - maybe a little too easy to talk to, because the next thing they know it’s 1am and they need to be up and back on the road at 6.

“Get some sleep, Lewis,” Jace says finally, taking a few extra minutes to secure the door before doing one last perimeter sweep. When he gets back he pretends he doesn’t notice Simon, still awake, hastily close his eyes and pretend to sleep the second Jace gets back in the room.

---

After the third week, Jace insists that staying at nicer hotels is a matter of security and finally convinces Simon to pull into the parking lot of a proper hotel. One with room service instead of vending machines, plus a gym and a pool. Jace tells himself it’s a matter of security as well, and not a reaction to Simon complaining about having several nights of terrible sleep and some back and neck pain from the old, cheap mattresses.

Jace certainly doesn’t correct Simon’s assumption that this is covered in the contract when in reality Jace is fronting the extra cost himself. After all, this is as much for his own benefit as it is for Simon’s, right?

That’s what he tells himself as he opens up more around Simon as well, sharing a drink or two when Simon insists (never anything enough to impair his judgment, and only ever when they’re back in a room for the remainder of the night), telling a few more personal stories, and… flirting?

Jace isn’t sure, but occasionally when Simon impulsively runs into an ice cream shop in a new city and gets a cone for each of them, or points out a storefront display with a leather jacket he thinks Jace might like, or leans his shoulder into Jace while laughing at something sarcastic Jace says… yeah, sometimes Jace gets the feeling that Simon might actually like him.

Then Jace just as quickly tells himself that it’s just Simon being nice, because Simon is nice, and because of course Simon’s going to be on good terms with the guy he’s stuck with 24/7 for two months. Jace is working for Simon, and their relationship is strictly professional, however pleasant it may also be.

It’s that hard line Jace knows they won’t cross that allows him to continue to open up more, because Simon’s safe. He’ll never see the guy again when all of this is over.

“You’re a good person, Jace,” Simon says one night after a lengthy conversation.

“...what?” Jace isn’t expecting that.

“You know that, right?” Simon’s tone is just shy of insistent, and certainly not rhetorical.

“Why do you say that?” Jace asks instead of agreeing, because… well, because he doesn’t know that. He tries, but he’s made some shitty decisions in his past, and hurt a lot of people, intentionally or not. And Simon doesn’t even know him, so Jace really doesn’t know where this is coming from.

“Just… the way you talk about yourself sometimes. Like you always have something to prove, or make up for... or like you have to justify everything you say. Sometimes I get the feeling you don’t think very highly of yourself even when you’re acting like God’s gift to mankind,” Simon adds with more accurate insight than Jace is comfortable with.

And now Jace really doesn’t know what to do with that.

“What are you, a philosopher now?” Jace mutters, still avoiding any sort of direct commentary on Simon’s way-too-close-to-home observation. “Go to sleep, Simon. I don’t need you too tired to focus on the road tomorrow.”

Simon looks like he’s going to argue but doesn’t in the end, leaving Jace alone with his thoughts in the newly settling silence of the hotel room.

It feels surprisingly pleasant to hear those affirmations from Simon, and Jace considers for the briefest moment what it’d be like to just be friends with Simon outside of their circumstances, to have these discussions and delve deeper into both of their pasts, humoring more of Simon’s personal questions and--

--and everything he can’t let this turn into over the next few weeks. Fuck.

Maybe there’s some harm in opening up after all.

---

They’re a little over halfway through the three-month tour when Jace realizes that perhaps his harmless crush on Simon is stronger than he realized. Jace watches from his usual spot in the corner as Simon signs CDs and sells band t-shirts and poses for photos, which is what he always does. But with every flirtatious laugh and every arm Simon drapes over someone’s shoulder or wraps around someone’s waist, Jace feels the desire to pull Simon away... and it isn’t because he’s in danger. It’s because Jace is jealous.

Jace grows sullen at the realization, arms crossed in front of him as he forces himself to watch Simon with his fans, because this is his job. The more he watches the more he doesn’t even think Simon realizes he’s doing it. Jace knows what active, intentional flirting looks like, but this is just Simon being his natural charming self, and Jace isn’t sure if that makes the whole thing better or worse.

Because it starts to dawn on him with a bit more meaning now that the way Simon’s been with him is the way Simon is with everyone. Jace just gets to experience it more often than everyone else right now. That doesn’t make their conversations special. It doesn’t make Jace anything special to Simon. And hell, maybe it’s just been a while since Jace spent this much time with someone else, too. Maybe he should work on writing off his own motivations as easily as he’s writing off Simon’s because his feelings are far from professional right now.

When the crowd disperses and Jace goes to help Simon wrap up his gear and load it back into the van (something that’s become routine for them, though not strictly in Jace’s list of expected duties) Jace is quieter than usual.

“Everything alright?” Simon asks, catching the shift in mood.

“Yeah. Fine,” Jace says curtly.

Simon doesn’t look like he believes him but doesn’t press the topic as they toss the last of the equipment into the van and head out.

---

The nicer Simon is toward him, the more closed-off Jace gets. He’s quiet during dinners Simon insists on paying for, stops sharing so much about himself when they do talk, and when Simon gives Jace a guitar pick he fashioned into a necklace for him Jace pockets it with a muttered ‘thanks’ without putting it on. He doesn’t have the heart to totally push Simon away, but he can’t keep growing closer to him knowing it’s all going to end in three weeks.

Jace wears the necklace every day but he keeps it tucked underneath his shirts where Simon can’t see.

Simon eventually stops trying to talk to him entirely, and they spend more and more time in uncomfortable silences. Sometimes Simon insists he needs privacy to work on his music and Jace sits at the end of the hallway of their hotel room listening to the faded sounds of Simon’s strumming.

There are three weeks left in Jace’s assignment when he gets the call that the police managed to track the letters to a girl back in New York: she’s in custody and getting a restraining order put against her, and Jace can come back as soon as he arranges transportation.

Jace hangs up the phone feeling surprisingly upset. This is great news for Simon, and he should be happy for him if nothing else, but that means this is the last night he’ll have to spend with Simon.

The last night he’ll get to spend with Simon.

“Hey Simon, good news. I just got a call from Luke and they tracked down your mystery stalker. You’ll get all the details once you’re back home but they’re already putting the restraining order into place, so you’re good to go.”

“What? That’s amazing!” Simon grins automatically, but it falls back into a frown just as quickly. “Does that mean you…?” his words trail off in question.

“I’ll be able to leave in the morning,” Jace confirms.

“Guess you’ll be happy to get out of here,” Simon says, his smile entirely gone.

“I do miss New York,” Jace carefully avoids the answer he knows Simon’s fishing for. The lie he should give, but can’t bring himself to.

Simon looks Jace up and down, his gaze finally resting on Jace’s face for a long couple of seconds, searching for something there before turning away without another word.

---

Jace knows he shouldn’t go to the show, but he does. He hangs in the back, a real drink in hand now that he’s no longer on duty, and listens to Simon sing the songs Jace knows by heart now. Jace knows from experience standing by the side of the stage that there’s no way Simon can make out any faces where Jace currently sits back by the bar. He plans on leaving before the end, before the lights come on and Simon knows he was there.

He’s a few drinks in when he hears Simon break his usual format.

“How does everyone feel about me trying out a new song I’ve been working on?” Simon asks. The crowd claps and cheers, and Jace shifts in his seat to fully face the stage. “This is a song about feeling a connection with someone, and not knowing when things went wrong, only that they did. And wondering if maybe it was all in your head the whole time...”

Jace feels his throat tighten at those words. He doesn’t have to be a genius to piece together the lyrics Simon starts to sing, fitting them to their lives the past few months, the hope of getting to know someone you’re starting to like, the confusion of being shut out, the uncertainty of wondering if they ever felt the same way you did or if they were just humoring you.

Jace knows Simon well enough to know that this isn’t a coincidence. It can’t be.

Against his better judgment, Jace stays. He stays until the set is over and the lights come on and Simon looks out around the crowd and makes direct eye contact with him.

Because fuck it. He’s leaving in the morning, and if this is all for nothing then he’ll never see Simon again and it won’t matter. But if he’s right…

Jace hangs back, watching Simon smile and laugh and sign CDs and take photos, acutely aware of every time the musician’s eyes wander over to where Jace lingers by the bar. Outside of the fading buzz from the alcohol it almost feels normal: hanging back after the show, watching Simon and waiting for him to make his way over once the crowd disperses. Hell, even the butterflies in Jace’s stomach aren’t new.

“You’re here,” Simon says when he finally makes his way over. “I didn’t think you’d come, since… I mean…”

“I heard your new song,” Jace forces the words out before he can change his mind. “I’d say I liked it, but that seems like the wrong response from the guy who made you think you did something wrong.”

“Not everything is about you,” Simon argues, but the intent falls flat beneath the nervous tremor the words are spoken with.

“No,” Jace agrees easily. “But that song is.”

Simon hesitates, then sighs. “It is.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize for not liking me, Jace. You were doing your job, that’s-”

“No. I’m sorry I was going to leave without telling you that I like you. I thought I’d leave and you’d never see me again, that it’d be pointless to get attached. I thought you were just… being nice. Because you’re a good person.” The words spill out of Jace before he can overthink them.

“You like me,” Simon repeats incredulously. “That totally makes sense with, you know, the way you completely stopped talking to me.”

Jace can hear the anger in Simon’s voice and winces slightly. Just because it’s entirely deserved doesn’t make it easier to hear.

“I figured it’d be easier to walk away once this was all over if we weren’t as friendly.” It’s still a shitty thing to have done, and Jace wouldn’t blame Simon for holding it against him. But after hearing that song he couldn’t walk away with Simon thinking it was over anything he did wrong. No matter the cost to Jace’s pride, Simon deserves that much. “And… maybe I was a little afraid that if I got much closer I’d want to cross a line I knew I couldn’t.”

“So you felt it too?” Simon’s words and expression are full of so much hope that Jace almost panics again. What if he isn’t half the person Simon thinks he is after getting to know him in this little bubble of theirs from the past few months? What if he messes this up?

...what if he doesn’t?

“I did,” Jace finally admits. “I still do. And I know I probably ruined any chance I had before, but if I haven’t fucked things up too badly, maybe once you’re back in New York we could meet up for coffee?”

Simon smiles, brighter than the house lights that fill the small venue now.

“Or… or you could stay with me for the last few shows? I wasn’t just being nice for the sake of being nice - I like you, Jace. I changed my hotel routine for you! I wouldn’t do that for just anyone. I don’t know if you have to go back right away for work, or something, but if you don’t I definitely wouldn’t mind the company. Your company.”

Jace considers it for a few long moments, then nods. It’s fitting, he thinks, to drop the formalities and the professional distance in the same setting he started to fall for Simon in. The same setting in which Simon started to fall for him, despite Jace’s best efforts to dissuade him, only this time with no excuses to hold him back. And if Simon’s willing to give him an actual shot after everything, he’d be a fool not to take it.

“Well, I can’t very well leave you to lug all your equipment around by yourself, can I?” Jace says, smiling. “Let me check back in with the office tomorrow morning but I don’t have anything scheduled. It shouldn’t be an issue.”

There’s a pause then, the air between them filled with an almost electric buzz of anticipation. Simon takes the first step closer, bridging the gap between them. There’s no questioning what Simon’s thinking when his eyes dart down to Jace’s lips and back up to meet his gaze again before speaking.

“Can I-”

Before Simon can finish, Jace’s lips are already on his in response. It’s slow and tentative, with each of them feeling the other out, but it’s nice. It’s really nice. When they pull away after a few moments Simon can’t keep the smile off his face. “That was even better than I imagined.”

Jace quirks an eyebrow, smirking fully now. “You imagined us kissing?”

“Shut up and help me load the van.”

The familiar banter and Simon’s easy smile are such an immediate comfort for Jace that he can’t help the light laugh he gives in response. As Simon looks back at Jace it’s with an expression so soft and full of kindness that Jace knows now isn’t the same look he reserves for everyone else.

Jace knows it’s a look reserved only for him this time - and with any luck, for many more times to come.

#jimon #jace herondale #simon lewis #shadowhunters #tsc #hmdiscord #ShadowhunterBingo #a birthday gift for cor! because no one loves Jimon quite like her <3 #I hope you like it!#long post #elle writes a few deadbeat lines

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kpoptart216 · 4 years

Text

Never Alone- Namjoon Oneshot

Genre: Angst. Fluff ending?? read till the end to find out.

A/n: I’m sorry in advance.

Length: 6.4k+ oops

Masterlist

It was a rough week. Probably the roughest week Namjoon has had since he debuted, he thought. He’s probably had worse weeks but this one at least took the cake for the last year or two.

He fucked up one too many things. First, he messed up choreography during one of their live stages, and the fancam happened to go viral. What he thought was a small mistake ended up trending on twitter. It wasn’t that bad, even Hoseok hadn’t berated him about it. He just didn’t like worldwide attention on his slip-up. Next, he ended up deleting an entire file on a song he was working on. No back-up or anything. It was just gone. In all his years composing music, he had always created a back-up so of course the one time he didn’t, it got deleted. Then management came to him and said he couldn’t take time off like he wanted once he got back from his Bon Voyage trip to spend with you and his family like he had wanted. It was his mother’s birthday and he didn’t know how he could face telling her that he couldn’t celebrate with her in person- again. The cherry on top had to have been when he decided to pack early for his trip and then ended up spelling an entire glass of juice into his suitcase when he tripped over the phone cable he had laying around. He felt like tossing the suitcase out the balcony with the level of frustration he was facing and he could feel the stress and anger bubble inside of him.

The boys were wary of his mood and tried their best to stay out of his way, but unfortunately no one had warned you of his increasingly angry mood. Not even your best friend, Jin, who was busy with his own work before the trip.

It was now the night before they had to leave and it was always tradition Namjoon came over to see you before he left the country, let alone Seoul. He trudged into your apartment with the spare key he had used a million times before, and if it wasn’t for his mood, he probably would have sensed the tension inside.

You weren’t aware of your boyfriend’s miserable week, since it felt like you were having a pretty bad one yourself. A few months ago, you had found out your father was dying. You and your father were never really close growing up. After your mother passed away, you and your father grew apart while grieving. You didn’t really blame him, but you grew up with the belief that you could only rely on yourself in this world, no one else. Over the last few years, you and your father have been trying to mend what little of a relationship you had, so when you found out that he was sick and needed a liver replacement, you cursed the stars for such a fate. Why did he get such a diagnosis when you just started to get to know one another again.

Earlier that day, the hospital had called and said your dad needed the surgery very soon and they were hoping to hear back about an organ donor from the next city over. Since then, you had been on edge, besides yourself. But the only comfort you knew you needed was from that of your boyfriend. But you were so out of it, you hadn’t even noticed he was there till he plopped himself onto the couch next to you, sighing loudly.

Namjoon just needed to sleep this entire week off. He loved his career, but sometimes it was...draining. Though he had 6 other brothers going through it, it looked like they seemingly had it easier. Why weren’t their mistakes broadcasted to the world? Why were some members allowed to go home when they needed it? He felt physically and mentally exhausted, it took a lot just to drive over here today. But he knew he had to see you before he was off for the next two weeks.

“Y/n I don’t think I’m going to be staying very long tonight, I’m really tired, love” he said, rubbing his eyes. It was only then that you had turned to face him, feeling the sadness engulf you twice has hard now. You just needed him to hold you right now and tell you that everything was going to be ok.

“C-can you stay?” You ask timidly. You never asked this of him. Never once had you requested more time of your boyfriend because you understood the importance of his time and career. One of the things you both valued about your relationship was that you both understood each other’s careers. While Namjoon was a world class idol, you were an up and coming lawyer. Both careers demanded a lot of your time, and yet you both made it work. And you made it work well.

“What?” he asked, still not really looking at you. “I don’t think so. I still have to pack a few things and I have an early morning” he said, looking at his watch now.

“I-I just need you tonight” you say, choking up. You were about to explain the situation before Namjoon interrupts you.

“What part of no do you not understand, Y/n?” he said loudly. This was the first time in your relationship he had ever yelled at you. “I can’t deal with this right now. No means fucking no. I thought it would be nice to stop by like I usually do, but I did not plan on coming to see my clingy girlfriend. You said you understood my career, so what the fuck is this? I’m telling you I have an early flight tomorrow and now of all days you ask me to spend the night? Jesus Y/n, either learn to accommodate to my schedule or find someone who can be here when you decide you need to cuddle or whatever” he says angrily before stomping out of your apartment.

You sat there, shocked at his remarks. You had honestly forgot he was leaving tomorrow for his trip with the boys. With everything going on with your father today, it had completely slipped your mind. Was your request really that outlandish?

(X)

Namjoon pretty much passed out as soon as he got home and finished packing, the exhaustion setting in quick. It felt like he was only asleep for a few minutes before his alarm rang a little too loud for his comfort. Before he could really comprehend everything, he was sitting in his flight seat, well on his way to New Zealand.

Slowly as he started to relax into his seat, he replayed his last week. As he was on his way to enjoy his time in a new country, he felt thankful for the experience. He eased into his seat further as he tried to sleep until he jolted up, remembering his conversation with you.

You had hardly said a sentence or two before he practically blew up at you.

“Ahh Hyung, what’s wrong, you scared me” Jungkook says, startled by his sudden actions.

“I- I had a fight with Y/n last night. Well I don’t know if you could consider it a fight, but I said some things I really didn’t mean...” Namjoon said sadly, looking down at his phone.

“It will be ok! Y/n noona is always so forgiving. Remember that time I accidently threw a water balloon at her when I was aiming for Jimin hyung? She was only annoyed for a second before she threw one right back at me!” Jungkook laughed, making Namjoon smile at the memory. You had always got along so well with all the boys having known them for so many years. Namjoon had the biggest crush on you as soon as Jin had introduced you as his childhood friend. It was only a matter of months before you both started dating.

“I hope she finds it in her heart to forgive me this time too. I don’t know if I deserve it” Namjoon says, sadly.

“Of course she will! Just call her once we land and explain everything, I’m sure she will forgive you!” Jungkook said before returning back to his movie.

(X)

As soon as the boys had landed, Namjoon yearned for a moment alone so that he could finally call you. But just like this whole week had been going, he didn’t get what he had wished for. The crew started filming as soon as they all landed and by the time they got the bags and the car, he was chosen to drive.

And drive he did. For what seemed like hours, Namjoon drove and drove. Only by the end of the first night did he find a moment to himself, when he didn’t have a mic or a camera filming.

He waiting eagerly as the phone rang, rehearsing his speech in his head. He would apologize profusely and explain his week to you and how he genuinely meant nothing he said. How foolish was he to even insinuate you find someone else when he was so head over heels in love with you. Such a beautiful and intelligent being, and more importantly understanding. The more he replayed the words he said to you in his head, the more he berated himself for spewing complete nonsense. You had been nothing but understanding of him and yet he threw that right back in your face.

He frowned as the the call went to voicemail. Should he leave a voicemail? would that do his apology any justice? He turned off the phone and called again, hoping you would answer this time.

Except you didn’t answer. You didn’t answer the next three times he called either. He sighed, realizing you were probably more mad than he had hoped. He decided to send you a text, hoping you’d read his text and decide to answer the next time he called.

Namjoon: Baby, I’m so so so sorry. I’m such an asshole, you definitely didn’t deserve anything I said last night. I promise you, I never meant any of it. I had a really rough week and I took it out on you. Please talk to me, hmm? I know you’re mad, but please let’s talk?

He waited eagerly for you to respond, but once again exhaustion took over and he passed out in the bunk bed to the sound of his brothers all sleeping too.

When he opened his eyes again, light was peeking in through the curtains. He felt disoriented, not really understanding where he was for a second. It took another few seconds before he realized he was in New Zealand, and only then, did he remember to check his phone.

He searched for his phone in the tiny bed. He sat up quickly, forgetting he was in the bottom bunk and hitting his head on the top bunk. He groaned in pain, rubbing at his head while still trying to find his phone.

He forgot to charge it so of course, the phone was completely dead when he found it. He quickly put it on charge and when the phone finally turned on, he quickly unlocked it, only to find no new texts from you.

He frowned. Maybe his phone wasn’t working? That couldn’t be true since he had received plenty of other texts from others. He sighed, sending you another text, and a sweet good morning for good measure.

Just like the previous day, the boys had a packed schedule. Between driving and filming and other activities, Namjoon barely had any time to check his phone. Any time he felt his phone vibrate within his pocket, his heart raced, hoping it was you who finally responded.

However, any time the boys had a break and he check his phone, there was no new notification from you. And for the rest of his trip, that is exactly what continued to happen. He didn’t hear from you.

On one day, while the other members decided to do various activities, he opted to spend some time alone, claiming to do some work. He spent the entire two hours he had alone trying to get in contact with you. Calling your work number, calling your phone multiple times, texting. He even tried calling a close friend of yours, who also didn’t answer.

What if you actually took his words to heart? What if you’d dump his stupid ass as soon as he was home and you’d find someone truly deserving of you. Someone who wouldn’t yell at you when you didn’t deserve it? His mind flashed with different scenes, all with you seemingly happy with another man, and he groaned in actual pain. Just imagining that engulfed his body in pain that he didn’t ever want that to happen.

At this point, after not hearing from you for almost two weeks, he just need to make sure you were ok.

Namjoon: Baby please. I know you’re mad at me, but please, just let me know if you’re ok. That you’re safe.

And once again, no response.

(x)

The boys watched Namjoon as he eagerly packed his bags in a hurry the night before flying back to Seoul. While all the boys conversed about how amazing New Zealand was and how they wish they could stay a little longer, it was clear as day that their leader was itching to go back.

“Hyung, we get that you’re dying to see your girlfriend again, but you’re making feel more and more single every second!” Taehyung complained.

Namjoon didn’t respond as he continued to gather his things and pack. He didn’t care if he had things to do as soon as he got back, the only thing he needed was to go see you and make things right.

Jin followed Namjoon into his room, closing the door behind him, “What’s gotten into you? Why are you so anxious?” he asked, sitting down on the bed and watching as Namjoon continued to pack.

“I need to see Y/n” Namjoon said plainly. He didn’t want to confide in his hyung about this one thing, because he knew how close you both were. He didn’t want his hyung to be disappointed in him.

“Yeah, I can see that, but it’s worse than usual?” Jin said.

“I- I had a fight with Y/n before we left hyung” Namjoon said, finally slowing down and hoping Jin would drop it at that. Jin waited for him to continue though. “And... and I haven’t heard from her in two weeks” Namjoon sighed, realizing he couldn’t hide it from Jin.

“What?! She hasn’t called you at all since we got here?” Jin asked.

“No. And she won’t answer her phone or even respond to my text messages. I even called her friend, and she won’t answer either. I think I really fucked up. What if she breaks up with me over this?” Namjoon says, panicking.

“Ok no, it won’t come to that. Just tell me what happened, ok?” Jin said, trying to calm down Namjoon.

And so Namjoon explained everything to his hyung. The terrible week he had, the overwhelming stress and anger he felt, the way he exploded at you, and all the terrible things he said to you.

“Wow,, that was really loaded” Jin said, sadly. He knew just as well as Namjoon that you didn’t deserve any of that. “Now that I think about it, I sent her a few pictures while we were here and she never responded to that either” Jin finally realizes.

“Oh...” Namjoon said sadly. He didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing yet. Would it have been better if you were still willing to talk to the others and not him? Or had something happened to you?

“How about as soon as we land, you take another car, buy the biggest bouquet of flowers, and go over to her place. It should be after work hours. Spend the night, I’ll explain things to our manager, hmm?” Jin offers. Namjoon smiled slightly at the gesture.

“Thank you hyung” Namjoon said. “And I’m sorry” he said truthfully.

“I’m not the one who needs the apology, stupid. Just.. don’t hurt her again.. next time I’ll whoop your ass” Jin says, smiling as he heads to his own bed to sleep.

(x)

Just like Jin had suggested, Namjoon had taken a separate van from the boys and stopped at the local flower boutique to pick up some of your favorite flowers. He even got some of your favorite cake slices at the bakery near your house too for good measure. You might be able to deny him, but there was no way you could deny that lucious coffee cake you loved oh so much.

The sun was slowly setting when Namjoon had gotten to your apartment. He took a deep breath as he held the flowers and cake and one hand and finally pulled out his keys to your place. He swallowed loudly, before opening the door, bracing for what was to come. He’d let you yell at him and take out all your frustrations out on him, but you leaving him was not an option.

“Y/n, love?” Namjoon says, finally entering your apartment. The apartment was still lit from the natural light, but it looked like no one was home. He frowned. where is she?

He decided it was just best to wait for you. He needed to see you, talk to you, hold you after what felt like forever.

After waiting for over half an hour, he finally heard the keys enter the lock on the front door. He quickly stood, gathering the flowers in hand, and squinted his eyes when the lights turned on. He hadn’t even noticed it was now completely dark outside.

“y-” he began, but frowned when he only saw your friend, Yerin instead.

“Holy shit you scared me” she said jumping. Before Namjoon could answer, he looked down at the keys she was holding, and they were clearly yours. He knew that little bear keychain he had gotten you by heart now.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Why do you have Y/n’s keys?” Namjoon asks, placing the flowers back down on the coffee table.

“Nice of you to finally care about someone other than yourself” Yerin snarled. Yerin was always wary of your relationship with Namjoon. She knew it couldn’t be easy dating an idol, but she always admired your willingness to put 100% into the relationship. Namjoon knew that Yerin wasn’t very fond of him, but they always tried to be polite with one another.

Namjoon flinched at her words. So you had shared what had happened with her. “Where is Y/n? Please, I really need to see her. Is she ok?” Namjoon asked. He looked absolutely dejected at this point. It was evident in his eyes that he was incredibly worried about you and really needed to see you.

Yerin had a whole speech planned out for when she had to see him again. She was ready to rip into him, but even she couldn’t ignore the look in his eyes. And while she really hated Namjoon at this moment, she knew that he only felt genuine love for you. What relationship didn’t have ups and downs? And who was she to judge your relationship.

“Namjoon... her dad passed. The day you left for your little joy trip, her dad passed away. His surgery didn’t go well. She asked you to stay not because she felt the need to cuddle as you so slightly put it, she needed someone to lean on when her father was sick in the hospital. And you couldn’t even let her explain before you left, so no, she’s not ok. She passed out at work earlier this week because she went through the funeral basically alone. She didn’t eat, or sleep, let alone drink water. So she’s been in the hospital all week. The doctor said she could probably come home tomorrow so I’m only here to get a change of clothes for her” Yerin explained. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you this in case I saw you, but I think you deserve to feel at least a fraction of the pain she’s felt these past two weeks” Yerin finished before heading to your room to gather your clothes.

Namjoon just stood there in shock. Your father... had passed. And he hadn’t been there for you. He wasn’t there to help you through such a painful part of your life. You sat through his funeral, absolutely alone. You hadn’t found the energy to take care of yourself which resulted you being hospitalized. What kind of a sick boyfriend makes his love go through that all alone? The one who hadn’t thought of her.

“Which hospital?” Namjoon asked slowly as Yerin emerged again with a small bag. “Please, let me come with you” Namjoon pleaded, tearing up. “Please” he basically whispered.

“Fine. I swear to god though if you make her cry again I won’t hesitate to kick you out myself” Yerin threatened.

Namjoon followed her like a lost puppy, sadness filling his entire being as he got closer and closer to the hospital. What was he even supposed to say? He knew what your relationship was like with your father. You were so happy that he was now back in your life and he remembered how you cried when you found out about his sickness. He remembers assuring you that everything would work out, that your father would recover and you’d spend more time with him

Yerin parked her car in front of the hospital, telling him your room number and that she’d be up after parking her car a few minutes later. Even she knew that you both needed a minute or two alone.

Namjoon basically ran all the way to your room, asking any nurse he could find where your room was. As soon as he reached your door, he took another deep breath, before sliding the door open.

If he thought he felt sadness before, nothing compared to the pain and sadness he felt now that he saw the sight before him now. You laid in bed on your side, resting your head on your arm. You faced had thinned, dark circles under your eyes, and there was absolutely no life in your eyes. Your eyes met his for a few seconds, acknowledging that you noticed him, before your eyes returned to the wall.

Namjoon walked in, closing the door behind him. He gulped, walking slowly to your side. “Y/n...” he started, causing you to close your eyes.

“Y/n.. I’m so sorry” He starts. His voice trembled with each word, and he was pretty sure it was only a matter of seconds before the tears spilled from his eyes. He sat down on the chair next to your bed, and he reached for your hand. The tears finally spilled when your jerked your hand back with what little energy you had left.

“I’m so fucking sorry” Namjoon tried again. He was at a loss for words. No speech he rehearsed for could fit for this.

“I-” he started again.

“Leave me alone” You say, eyes still closed. You said it so quietly he wasn’t sure you had even said it, but when when the tears cascaded down your face even with your eyes closed, he knew you had.

“I can’t do that” Namjoon said. “I’m not leaving you now. Or ever. Not like this” Namjoon said firmly.

“Go, Namjoon” You commanded again.

“No”

“Don’t make me ask the nurses to get you to leave” You say, still not opening your eyes.

“I’m not leaving” Namjoon says again. No way in hell could he ever leave you like this.

Just then Yerin had came in as well. She had heard your request. “Namjoon, leave” she said firmly. “She doesn’t need this right now”

“I can’t! How- How can I? She’s not well and I- I can’t” Namjoon fumbled.

“Just GO” you said as loud as you could, causing Namjoon to flinch. You turned to your other side, signaling that this conversation was officially over and that he was no longer welcome here.

Yerin held the door open for him, urging him to leave. Namjoon plopped himself down on the chair outside your room, resting his head in his hands. How had things become this bad so fast? If he had only taken the time to listen to you that night, he could have been there for you! He could have taken care of you like deserved rather than leaving you alone when you need him the most.

Yerin stepped out of the room a few minutes later.

“Look, I have to go into court tomorrow morning to take over for Y/n’s case. I can’t take her home. So as much as it kills me to do this, I need to ask you to take her home once she’s discharged in the morning” she says, angrily. “Or I can call Jin?” she thinks out loud.

“NO. I’ll do it. I’ll do it.” Namjoon says, thankful for the opportunity. He wasn’t sure that when morning came, you’d let him take you home, but at least it was a start.

(x)

When the doctor noticed him sitting outside, Namjoon quickly explained that you were the last of her family and the doctor explained to him as simply as possible what went down the last week. You were extremely weak and had to take it easy for the next couple of weeks while you gained your strength back. No work, and you needed someone to take care of you as well. Namjoon cursed at himself internally as the doctor only confirmed how much pain you must have been in emotionally.

“People deal with loss differently, but this is an exceptionally grave way of dealing with it. Please take care of her” The doctor requested before leaving to check on other patients.

After singing all the paperwork and paying for the long hospital stay, Namjoon entered your room again. You stood by your bed now, and the shirt that used to fit you so well a few weeks ago hung loose on your shoulders. Was it possible to lose that much weight in two weeks? It looked like you had basically starved yourself.

Namjoon cringed internally.

As you placed the last of your things in the bag, you turned to face who you assumed was Yerin. You glared at Namjoon when your eyes landed on him.

“I thought I asked you to leave” you sighed, sitting back down on the bed.

“I’m taking you home” Namjoon said, ignoring your request.

“No, I think Yerin is” you say, pulling out your phone.

“No, she had to take your case to court today. I’m taking you. End of discussion” Namjoon said.

“No. I’ll take an uber or something” you mumbled, cursing at Yerin inside.

“Unfortunately, the doctor requires that a family or friend take you home and I’m the only one right now. So unless you want to stay here another day or so...” namjoon said as he walked over to grab your bag “I suggest you let me take you home” He said.

You glared at him again. While the stubborn part of you would have stayed here another night just to avoid the car ride home with him, you hated the hospital. Once the funeral was over, you had prayed to get out of there as soon as possible and yet you ended right back there a day or so later for yourself.

Namjoon led the way to his car and you got into the passenger seat, holding onto your bag tightly. You only looked out the window the entire car ride back. You didn’t say a single thing and Namjoon was too afraid to say anything.

When he parked his car outside your apartment complex, you quickly unbuckled your seatbelt and stepped out. You turned to face him for the first time “I can get inside perfectly fine” you say, implying Namjoon was not welcome inside your apartment.

“Let me take you inside, please Y/n” he pleads. He was supposed to be taking care of you, how could he do that when he wasn’t allowed in your place.

“I was stupid before. I can take care of myself without your help. You’ve taught me that once again, I can’t depend on anyone but myself. Goodbye Namjoon” you said, ending this conversation as you closed the door.

You couldn’t depend on anyone but yourself? Had he really let you believe that? He teared up again at the thought. Namjoon could only watch as you walked slowly back to your apartment. Your weakness was evident in the way you walked and he told himself that in a minute or so he’d follow just to make sure you made it inside ok. Before you walked into the building though, you had stopped and turned your head to the side. Someone had called out to you.

Namjoon follows your line of sight to see none other than Jin step out of his own car and rush over to you. Namjoon had called him the night before and explained everything to him. Jin was incredibly upset and mad that he hadn’t called sooner. He only said that he’d see you as soon as you got back home before hanging up on him.

Namjoon watched on as Jin runs up to you, and the both of you engaging in some conversation. Jin hugs you a moment later, and that was all it took for you to break down in sobs in his arms. Jin tries his best to calm you down before ushering you inside, but not before shooting Namjoon a look letting him know that he’d take care of you,

(x)

Namjoon trudged back into the dorm, with all eyes on him. “Hyung, what happened?” Jimin asked, running up to him. “Jin told us about Y/n and her father. We thought you’d be with her”

“I fucked up, Jimin. That’s what happened. I’m now the last person she wants to see. I said things to her before our trip that I didn’t even mean and now she can’t even be in the same room as me. The person she was supposed to depend on and trust? I’m no longer that person for her. And I don’t know what to do” says Namjoon before breaking down in sobs himself. Did he really just lose you?

Between worrying about your health and the fate or your relationship with him, Namjoon was absolutely terrified. Fortunately the boys didn’t have any schedules for the next few days because there was no way in hell that Namjoon could have stepped out the dorm without looking like a complete mess.

Could he call you? show up at your place again? Would you even let him inside, even if he had a key? He raked through his mind with any possibility of you letting him just talk to you but he couldn’t see it happening, and that just tore his heart apart even more.

(X)

You told yourself you’d do anything to avoid the hospital again, so you ate, even if all the food tasted like dirt. Even the cake that was in your fridge didn’t appeal to you. You drank water forcibly and tried to sleep at a normal time. Luckily, work had given you a few weeks off to recover and grieve, but part of you just needed some normaly again.

Your mind was overthinking everything. Not only had you lost your father suddenly, but you also felt like you lost Namjoon, even if it was you pushing him away this time.

You always though you had understood him and that he had appreciated you all the more because of it. So when he threw that right back in your face the one time you genuinely needed him by your side, it hurt like hell. You were also angry that you felt the need to depend on someone when your whole life taught you that that would eventually blow up in your face anyways. Your mom died when you were young and still growing. Your dad died when you finally let him in your life again. And Namjoon left when you didn’t even expect it.

You didn’t know what made you more sad- the fact that the last of your family was dead or that you felt like you were going to be alone for the rest of your life.

Jin had been over the last few days, bringing food and just sitting with you. He’d play movies or watch some tv with you while you just sat. He’d let you cry, or force feed you some food, but you were glad you weren’t alone at the moment.

One night though, he finally decided enough was enough. Even he could tell that what he wasn’t doing enough. You were missing a certain someone and it was evident, even if you’d never admit it yourself.

“Y/n, we need to talk” Jin began.

“I’ve been eating all the food you leave me, I swear” you say.

“No not about that. But good, I’m glad. I actually need to talk to you about Namjoon” and he could feel you still next to him on the couch. “You need him, sweet girl” he said slowly.

“No I don’t” you say, irritated.

“Yes you do. And more importantly, he really needs you as well. You should see him at the dorm. While you’ve been here slowly recovering, he’s going in the opposite direction. He hasn’t been sleeping well or eating” he says.

You frown when you hear that. You hadn’t wished that for him.

“He’s so incredibly sorry, Y/n. He had such a bad week when he blew up on you. Of course, that doesn’t compare to your pain in any way, but you should have seen him the entire trip. He was itching to be back in Seoul and see you. He felt so bad. He called you and texted you so many times, and you were all he could think about. I’m not saying you have to forgive him right away, but just talk hmm? You both need it” he coaxes you.

You contemplate it. Despite what you told yourself, you really did miss him. You could understand the week he had after Jin explained it to you. And despite the fear of depending on someone again, you knew you needed him.

“I’ll... I’ll call him later” You say. “ You should go home, Jin. Thank you for the last few days” you say, smiling for the first time since you got home.

“Promise?” he asks.

“I promise”

(X)

Namjoon laid in bed, just staring at the ceiling, a seemingly favorite pastime of his recently. He heard his phone ring next to him and he lazily answered it, not even bothering to see who it was.

“Hello?” he asked, slowly.

“Namjoon” he heard, and that was all it took for him to jump right out of bed.

“Y/n” he says. “It’s you” he says, as if he had to confirm the fact out loud for it to be true. He could hear you sigh over the line.

“Do you.. do you think you can come over?” you asked after a moment.

“I’m leaving right now, love” he said, darting out of the room. Jin watches on with a small smile.

“I have a feeling he won’t be back for a few days, guys” Jin says to the other guys who watched with a confused look.

(X)

Namjoon ran all the way up to your floor, despite it being three floors up. He wasn’t really sure why you had called, perhaps it was even to end the relationship once and for all, but he didn’t care. You had asked to see him, and that’s all that mattered.

He didn’t want to just barge in on you, so he knocked on the door and a few moments later, you opened the door, staring at him with doe eyes. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees some life in your eyes again.

“Come in” you say timidly.

He steps in and takes his shoes off, and he just stares at you. Both of you are unsure what to do, this is new territory.

“Y/n, love, I’m so so-” he starts

“Don’t. Please just... I don’t want to talk about that” you say, interrupting him.

Namjoon stares at you again. Was this going to be the end? He feels his heart drop.

He watches as you visibly swallow. “Can you just... can you please just hold me?” you say, quietly, and finally looking up at his eyes.

Namjoon eyes widen in surprise a little, but he wrapped his arms around your small frame almost instantly. He could never deny you of anything. “I missed you so much” he says into your hair before placing a small kiss on your head.

It was only then that you also returned the gesture and wrapped your hands around your boyfriend’s bigger frame. He felt you slowly cry into his shirt as it got wet from your tears.

“I love you so much baby, I’m not leaving you ever” he said, holding onto you tighter.

He lifts you into his arms before walking the both of you to your dark bedroom. He didn’t even need to turn on the light, he knew that room like the back of his hand. He placed you slowly down on the bed before getting in with you and holding you while you wrapped your legs around his.

It was such a weird feeling that took over the both of you in that instant. While the both of you were still quite sad about the previous weeks’ events, the both of you were also slowly starting to fill with happiness because of the unsaid truth that you both would be ok. You’d make it through this, despite the words exchanged. You’d both lean on each other and love each other unconditionally, despite the bumps along the way, but you’d be together nonetheless. And that was all the both of you needed as you fell asleep in each others arms.

A/n: I hope you guys liked this. I’d appreciate the feedback! Would you like to see more oneshots?

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