#just listen to the song i hope someone reads these tags lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lizard-on-a-window-pane · 25 days

Text

When the Levee Breaks

pairing: Remus Lupin x reader

tags / warnings: friends to lovers fluff then smut, mutual pining, smoking weed (be responsible irl), high sex, explicit descriptions of oral (f receiving), fem!reader

NSFW notes: A LARGE PORTION OF THIS FIC IS NOT SUITABLE FOR MINORS; DO NOT READ IT IF IT ISN'T APPROPRIATE FOR YOU! HOWEVER, because such a long portion (like 2/3) has no sexual material (except for the implication at the very beginning), i have clearly marked where it becomes NSFW in case any age-appropriate readers want to read only up to that point (i know some people just want fluff not smut even if they're of age, and that's so chill); i will say there is drug use before then, so still adult material, but fluffy around that; please please be responsible for your content consumption

random notes: set in the late 70's / early 80's, following canon of when the marauders would've met but the rest of the world building (e.g. au) left ambiguous title inspired by a song on one of the albums mentioned idk why this turned out similar to The Prettiest Star with Sirius Black, but i guess my fantasy is just to listen to music intensely with someone then fuck lovingly lol

word count: 6.4k

hope you enjoy! thank you if you read it! 🫶

You watch as his long fingers, practiced and adept, roll the spliff. You liked this part. You could stare at his hands under the guise of watching the rolling. Remus didn’t have to know how far from pot your mind wandered when you did. He didn’t have to know it made you wonder every time what else he could do with this fingers. Imagine how they would feel on you. In you.

At the thought, you squirm where you’re seated on his settee next to him. He chuckles in a low tone.

“Antsy?”

“No.”

He can tell you’re lying. You can tell he can tell. But you don’t care. As long as he can’t tell why you’re lying, it doesn’t matter, and you can keep wriggling.

“Whatever you say, jitterbug.”

Your wringing hands catch his attention, and his eyes fix on them even as his hands continue their work.

“Next time, you’re rolling it,” he says through a smile. “There’d be nothing left to smoke by the time you finished shaking it everywhere,” he laughs, too amused with himself, giggling as if he were already high.

“Remus?” you start, and he shakes his head and chuckles, loving how you get when he teases you.

“What?” he smiles, eyebrows shooting up at you, both a welcome and a challenge for you to say whatever you’re about to.

“Can you remind me who provided this wonderful gift on this wonderful afternoon?” You shake the baggy you brought to his flat not 15 minutes ago.

He laughs, now nodding, and concedes, “You’re right, sunshine. I should be so grateful.”

Remus brings the spliff to his mouth to lick the edge of the paper, and your retort gets caught in your throat as you fixate on his tongue.

A bit too late, a bit too quiet for your usual banter, you say, “You should be, Moons. I can still take it home and smoke by myself.”

“Oh now I’ve rolled it for you, yeah? Didn’t realize you were just here for my services. Should’ve known you were just pretending to love me till you got what you wanted.” He holds up his finished work — a beauty really — in front of you as he finishes his joke. You hum affirmatively, taking it from him and looking it over.

You inspect it exaggeratedly and with a theatrical sense of casual satisfaction tell him, “Hm, not bad. I was starting to regret the long con, but I think this was worth it.”

He’s giggling as he gets up, bumping his body against yours before he does, going toward his record collection. He walks over lazily, unhurriedly, his bare feet quiet on the floor, his hand coming up to mess with his hair. His loose, comfy clothes do a lot to hide the muscles you know are lean but strong underneath.

“Come help me choose,” he says over his shoulder as he falls to one knee to scan a lower shelf. Almost a whole wall of his small apartment is covered in shelves, boxes, stacks of records. It looks a mess, but it’s actually meticulously organized by release date.

You follow him, come up just behind him. You crouch, too, not all the way down like him. You lean on him, resting your head atop his, bringing your arms around his shoulders and neck.

He moans casually, seeming happy, and grabs your arms where they fall across his chest.

“Oh, Rem. You should know…”

“Hm?” he asks, looking up at you. You look down at him, seeing his warm smile upside down.

“This is the real reason I’ve pretended to be your friend all these years,” you fake seriousness as you nod toward the records. Remus rolls his eyes, but his smile stretches further across his lovely face. It pulls on a long scar that runs down his cheek.

“And may I ask how you knew when we were eleven that one day I would own such an epic collection?”

“Easy. You wore a Led Zeppelin t-shirt one of the first days we knew each other.”

He’s taken aback by your giving an actual answer.

“Did I really?”

“Yeah,” you shrug, smiling down at him. The warmth of reminiscing about those childhood years softening you.

“I think I remember that shirt,” he smiles nostalgically. “How do you remember that?” He twists in your embrace, coming to sit on the floor and pulling you with him. You’re sitting close to each other, and he’s watching you, rapt.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I remember being so nervous and lonely at the beginning. Wanting to make friends. And you seemed nice, so I noticed you.” You shrug again, look down for a moment, not wanting to express embarrassment at a more honest recollection: you had a crush on him immediately, even back then, even before you were really sure what it was you were feeling — that came with the years that followed. “The day you wore that shirt, it was like something familiar I could latch onto. Someone who liked something I liked.” Remus is smiling adoringly at you. Listening as intently as he is, looking as giddy, he looks like a child at the greatest story time ever from his seat on the floor.

“I even tried to talk to you about it,” you confess, cringing teasingly at yourself.

“Yeah?” He sits up straighter like a puppy hearing someone at the door.

“Yeah,” you exhale.

“I don’t remember that happening.”

“That’s because it didn’t,” you laugh. “I said tried to talk to you. I got too nervous and ran to hide before I could get the words out.”

He’s shaking his head in disbelief, his smile still plastered on his face.

“I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed you yet.” Remus looks especially contemplative for a moment then hums, biting his lower lip. “It’s crazy. Trying to think of my life before you is like remembering a blank canvas.”

Your cheeks warm and so does your heart.

You’re smiling a beaming smile at him but say, “There wasn’t much to notice. I was pretty quiet. And besides, your attention probably couldn’t handle a single thing more given you were getting to know Sirius and James.” He laughs lightly at the good memories but shakes his head at you a little more pronouncedly.

“I’m sure there was a lot to notice. I was just an idiot. And quiet, too. By comparison to that lot anyway. They spoke enough for the three of us. I probably would’ve wimped out if I’d tried to talk to a pretty girl like you back then.” The edges of his entrancing brown eyes crinkled from his smile. “I mean… to be honest… I’d get nervous for a while, talking to you at first.”

“You didn’t,” you tease but secretly really want to hear more.

“I did, yeah. Of course I did,” he laughs at himself. “I had a big crush on you. James and Sirius wouldn’t let me live it down for ages.”

You’re shocked at this news. And maybe your face shows it. What it doesn’t show is how desperately your mind is racing, questioning: “Wait, could things have been otherwise? Did he actually like me as more than a friend at some point? Did I ruin it somehow?”

Remus tenses slightly, his smile no longer reaching his eyes, which are attentive at your reaction.

“That was a long time ago,” he jokes to fill the silence that is beginning to stretch too long, his tone awkward.

“What happened?” you whisper, unable to help it.

He takes a second to answer, like he doesn’t know what to say. He’s searching your face, and you’re not sure how much he can read there.

He shrugs. His face gives an “I don’t know” scowl. He’s trying to escape answering, but you don’t let him.

“Remus,” you laugh and shove him playfully.

“I don’t know,” he giggles. “I don’t know. Then I got to know you I guess. And we became friends.”

You give a scoffy laugh. You know he probably didn’t mean it that way, but your stomach sinks at the idea that getting to know you would remedy him of his crush. You’re staring at the floor when his voice breaks you out of your thoughts.

“Hey, you okay?” He’s trying to keep the playful atmosphere, but you hear true concern in his tone. “Did I say something I shouldn’t’ve?”

You want to say “yes,” but you wouldn’t be able to tell him which part. So, you don’t say anything.

“I didn’t think you’d mind, after all these years,” he says more softly.

“No, Rem. Of course I don’t mind.” You shake your head as if dismissing the idea, attempting a laugh that still comes out strained. “I was just surprised is all.”

He’s watching you, nodding subtlety, worrying his lower lip between his teeth.

“Let’s choose something, yeah?” you nod next to you toward the wall, desperate to redirect attention.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘course.” Remus turns toward the records, skimming across his stacks. A thought catches him, and he moves purposefully toward a different shelf.

“What are you thinking?” you notice, your interest piqued.

“1971,” he says as if it’s an answer. It is to you.

1971: the year you met.

He pulls out a well-worn record, and the strain on your smile finally dissipates to easy delight. You come stand next to him, and he hands it to you.

“Do you remember how much we listened to that then?” he asks.

“How could I forget,” you smile, your fingers tracing the cover of Led Zeppelin IV.

It came out November 1971, but neither of you could get it till at least a month later, during Christmas break from school. When you finally did, the two of you listened to it nonstop. You absolutely loved the album, but you knew you listened to it that much because it was an easy excuse to hang out with Remus. You’d been listening to music together, often just the two of you, ever since.

“Fuck, I remember we’d listen to it in my room,” Remus reminisces. “And even Sirius, the biggest Zeppelin fan of us all, couldn’t take it anymore,” he laughs. “He’d turn it off when he found us listening to it, scolding us for ‘abusing a sacred thing.’”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Oh, look at this,” Remus startles you, excited. He pulls another record off the same shelf.

“This is too perfect,” he giggles. “I didn’t remember this came out then,” he muses, looking it over. “Probably didn’t get my hands on it till much later, I guess. But it’s like it was made for us. For you.” He hands you Just As I Am by Bill Withers, but you still don’t get what he’s saying. He sees your confused look and chuckles. “Second track,” he hints. Your eyes land on “Ain’t No Sunshine.”

“Sunshine”: Remus’s nickname for you for years. You had Sirius to thank for it actually. He’d said you and Remus were like yin and yang. And since you all already called him “Moony,” you had to be “Sunny.” The other three of you cringed at the sound of that, so he tried “sunshine” instead, conceding it was close enough, and it stuck. Over the years, Sirius and James used it less and less, Remus more and more.

“It’s your song,” Remus urges, knocking his shoulder against yours. “There literally can’t be sunshine when you’re gone because you are sunshine.” He sounds too excited, and it’s adorable.

“You sound like Sirius saying he’s serious,” you tease. He just laughs and takes the record back.

“Whatever, grumpy. It’s an epic song, and you know it, and now it’s yours, and I don’t care if that’s cheesy.”

“I love it,” escapes you, teasing tone gone. His eyes snap to yours, and he looks at you warmly.

“Alright, sunshine,” he whispers. A beat. “Wanna listen to it?” he asks, voice almost normal again. You nod gladly then go back to the sofa as he sets it up.

Remus soon comes back and joins you. He grabs the spliff from between stacks of snacks you’d prepared for the afternoon then looks over at you.

“Ready, sunshine?”

“Mhhm.”

“You do the honours.” He hands it to you and grabs the lighter. Rather than handing that to you too, he lights it for you as it dangles from your parted lips.

You take a long drag, feeling it enter you and welcoming it. You cough lightly as you exhale slowly. You are no novice but are still always a cougher. Remus still always giggles when you do, but it’s never mocking. He has a glass of water ready for you, knowing you well, always looking after you. You trade him the water for the spliff, which he proceeds to hit with equal enthusiasm and less wheezing.

You pass it back and forth for a little while. It’s strong stuff and just three hits in, you feel it engulfing you. The settee feels softer; the music sounds better.

“Ain’t No Sunshine” is playing, and in your dazed state, you’re sure this is going to be the peak of the album even if it doesn’t coincide with the peak of your high. You close your eyes, and you can feel the music on your skin.

Remus chuckles next to you, and your face turns to him.

“You look so stoned right now,” he explains, giddy.

“That’s because I am,” you laugh. Once you start laughing it’s hard to stop; once Remus joins, it’s almost impossible.

You chat easily, observations and jokes from both of you greatly benefitting from the induced assistance. Remus has a revelation about your listening to HI-fi while high. Your mind is blown multiple times at how deep the lyrics are.

“They’re all talkin’ at him, but he doesn’t hear a word they’re sayin’, Moons! Not a word! I should do that,” you tell him as if it’s the most urgent thing in the world. He cracks up. “He’s so right, you know? Gotta keep the sun shining through the pouring rain, you know?”

“Uh-huh, I know, sunshine, I know,” he just laughs at you.

“You have such a nice smile, Moony,” you observe, dazed just as much from the feelings perambulating through your system than the pot doing the same.

“Yeah?” he asks, exaggerating it till he’s all teeth and squinty eyes.

“Yeah,” you laugh. “It looked funny upside down over there,” you remember. “Watch!”

You flip over on the sofa till your feet are up where your neck should rest and your head is dangling off the edge where your knees would normally be. You smile up at him. Remus doubles over laughing with you, bringing his face much closer to yours as he leans into it.

“You’re right. Looks funny,” he tells you much more softly than you expected after his cackling. He watches you intently then brings a hand to your upside down face. He traces your features lightly, and it’s warm and tingly. His long finger travels down your nose, across your eyebrows.

“C’mere,” you whisper to him.

“Where?” he whispers back, his voice a gruff chuckle again.

“Down here!” you whisper-yell.

You pull his shoulder down and start kicking his legs up as he contorts until you get him in the same position as you. You end up side by side, upside-down on the sofa.

Each of you giggles at the other as you steal side glances. Your faces, pulled the wrong way by gravity, softened more than normal by the smoking, look even goofier through your incessant giggles and pointless efforts at holding those back.

You listen, and laugh, to at least a whole song like this. You kick each other’s feet throughout. As one of your kicks brings you closer to Remus, he rolls over to tickle you. You laugh so loud you can’t even hear the record over it.

“Stop, Rem! Stop!” you plead. “I’m already too dizzy.”

He keeps it up a moment but soon takes pity on you and helps move your body the right way around, his strong hands manipulating you easily.

“Alright, dizzy. Enough upside-down,” he says as he fixes your now crazy hair.

You just nod and shift closer to him. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he shuffles to a comfortable height for you, laying his own head on yours.

A primary reason you enjoy getting high with Remus: you both get snuggly. You’re touchy normally, even more than most best friends you’ve seen, but not overly so. When you’re high, it’s overly so. But it somehow doesn’t feel weird. In fact, it feels wonderful.

So, it feels wonderful, not weird, when you absentmindedly reach over for his hand. He gives it to you easily, and you begin caressing it.

“Your skin is so soft, Rem.” You pull his hand closer to you, bringing it close to your face, looking it at like you’ve never seen a hand before. Remus takes the opportunity and quickly grabs at your nose playfully. You giggle at this as he responds to your initial comment.

“In between all the scars maybe.” He sounds matter of fact. There’s a lot less pain in his voice now when he talks about them than when he did in your younger years. You look forward to the day when you hear no pain there at all.

“No, the scars too,” you correct him gently, and you bring your thumb to a scar that runs from the top of his hand up to his forearm. You trace it with reverence, and he shivers at your touch. You know for a fact you’re the only person in the world he allows to touch them. You’re so grateful for his trust, and in this moment, your emotions heightened, your inhibitions lowered, the vibrations of the music moving through you, you feel the need to tell him so.

“Thank you for letting me touch you, Moony.”

Remus has been watching where your hands are connected until now, but at your words, he looks into your eyes. He just looks at you for a long moment. You can’t tell how long, time elongated and indeterminable in your current state, but you’re completely comfortable to sit in it through its entirety, looking straight back at him.

Eventually, the softest grin blossoms on his face. You mirror it.

“Thank you for not being afraid to,” he whispers. You genuinely don’t understand.

“Why would I be?”

“You know what I mean,” he tries to explain. He looks down in shyness but back at you before continuing, “Maybe ‘afraid’ isn’t the right word. Maybe it’s ‘disgusted’ or something…”

His voice is fading to a low whisper by the end, like the louder the words are the truer they’ll be.

Without hesitating, you tell him the truth: “Remus, you’re the least disgusting person in the world. You’re beautiful.” He grimaces like he can’t believe you, so you go on. “You are.”

You turn your body even more toward him, bringing your connected hands to your almost shared lap and bringing your other hand to caress his cheek.

“Silly Moony. You’re so sickeningly beautiful,” you chuckle. Your hand runs up through his hair. “This hair is ridiculous,” you inform him, tousling it. He leans into your touch like a content puppy. “These eyes.” You trace circles around each of them, first skimming his eyebrows then looping around. “They’re the easiest thing in the world to melt into, no pot needed.” You feel them crinkle as they smile into your compliments. “This nose.” You trace it slowly. “These lips,” you say more softly. You feel his gasp when you touch them then feel nothing, his breath held as you trace them. “And your scars,” you say with some finality. You trace a prominent one across his face. He closes his eyes while you do, opens them again when you reach its end. “You beauty isn’t one to be ruined by scars, Remus Lupin. Your beauty is the kind that incorporates the scar and makes that beautiful too.”

Remus squeezes your interlaced hands. Your faces are so close to each other that you could see his eyes moisten as you tell him all this. He closes them before full tears form and moves his face that tiny bit closer till his forehead rests on yours. You nuzzle his nose, and he nuzzles yours back.

“It’s so quiet,” you whisper, breaking the silence — noticing the silence. You didn’t notice when the album ended. Remus just hums in response.

The silence is loaded but peaceful. You don’t want to pressure him into having to say something back after you let yourself get so intense with him. It wasn’t about what he said back; it was about his understanding how you saw him, how you hoped he would see himself.

So, with his eyes still closed, you give the scar that runs across his nose a light kiss, do the same to another larger one across his jaw. Then you bring your head back to his shoulder, snuggling into him to mark the end of the moment, no further pressure necessary.

Remus shifts his body closer, as close to you as possible. He brings his arm around your shoulders without letting go of your hand. He’s holding you close, and your arm crosses your chest to keep your hands intertwined. He kisses the top of your head — new, sweet — then rests his own there again — familiar, warm. Your thumb absentmindedly strokes the back of his hand.

You sit together in the quiet a long while. You close your eyes, breathe Remus in, let his body, his presence envelop you then just bask in it. Everything feels pleasantly heavy — the air, his body where it touches yours.

You settle into him, and without your noticing you’re doing it, your hand on his stills.

“Don’t stop,” he whispers.

“Hm?” you need to ask, unsure what he means. You look up, and he looks down, and your faces are a breadth away from each other.

“I liked how you were touching me,” he whispers. “I always like how you touch me,” he adds like a secret.

He brings his hand that’s not holding yours up to your face. First, the backs of his fingers brush lightly over your cheekbone then he rests his hand there. His fingers hold your jaw; his thumb caresses your cheek. Like you tend to do, you lean into his touch.

His gentle, soothing touch flutters your eyes closed. Your inability to see his face makes it less scary to respond, “I always like how you touch me too.”

“Yeah?” he sighs, his hand holding you a bit more tightly, his thumb coming down to graze your bottom lip. You nod slowly, his hand moving with your head.

“Do you ever think about other ways we could touch each other?” he whispers. Your eyes fly open at this and land on his: lidded, dilated, gazing into your own.

“Do you?”

“I asked you first,” he giggles. “And I’ve already told you a secret today. It’s your turn.”

“What secret?” Your voices are still soft, whispering even though there’s no need for quiet other than your intimacy demanding it.

“About my crush.”

“I had a crush on you too,” you tell him. “So now we’re even.”

“That’s not fair, sunshine,” he smiles. You smile back.

Then, after a moment, like he can’t help it, “You did?”

“Of course I did.”

“What happened?” he echoes.

“Nothing,” you confess.

His eyebrows furrow, unsure how to interpret this. His eyes hold hope and trepidation at once.

“I got to know you… And we became friends…” you continue. His expression falls, and you’re pretty sure you recognize this look as disappointment. But you go on, “And it made me love you all the more.”

You’re ready to read his expression closely this time, but you don’t get the chance before he’s kissing you, before you’re kissing back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ NSFW beyond this point ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s slow. Deliberate. His lips push on yours; his arms bring you closer. His tongue teases your lips, and though they part in response, his tongue traces them rather than push in. You whimper at the feeling of it, and he moans at your reaction. He breathes you in, covers your whole mouth with his, devouring the sound, devouring you.

Now his tongue enters your mouth, exploring, playing with yours. You’re not sure whether his movements are slow or whether they just feel slow because you’re still high. You are sure you have no desire to speed any of it up.

You bring your hands to either side of his face, holding him gently but pulling him to you. He follows easily, and when your chests are almost flush, you trace your hands down to his shirt and pull him on top of you as you lean back, lying down on the sofa.

You keep kissing a deliciously long while then Remus goes beyond your lips, kissing along your jaw leisurely. He mouths at your skin, licking, nipping his way unhurriedly down to your neck. Here he languidly runs his tongue along the length of your neck, kissing your pulse point, nipping behind your ear.

Everywhere he touches is buzzing, and you shiver at the sensation. When his breath blows cold air on your now wet skin, you shiver even harder, your body shuddering against his above you. He chuckles into the crook of your neck and continues.

After another while of his working his way down, he has to pull the neck of your shirt down to reach further. You bare your neck to him, loving his exploratory path.

When his mouth leaves your skin for the first time in several minutes, your impulse is to immediately pull him back to you.

“Let’s take this off,” he whispers sedately, gruffly, tugging at your top.

You pull it off and don’t waste time unclasping and sliding your bra off as well. Remus looks at you, dopey and delighted, but without further ado, pushes your chest so that you lie back again. His hand stays on you and begins lazily kneading your breast as he brings his mouth back to you.

He kisses the base of your neck and continues his previous ministrations across your collarbones. He seems to be on a mission to trace the entire surface area of your skin with his wandering mouth, and you have every intention of letting him and enjoying every long second of it.

As he makes his languorous way down your sternum, you arch your back, pushing up into him, and bring your hands to his messy hair, holding him close. You scratch and tug, needing somewhere to release some energy, every part of you he’s touched left humming warm and electric. He groans into your chest, and you’re certain you feel the vibrations move through your skin, across your chest cavity, and into your heart, where they ricochet within it, making it beat faster.

“Remus,” you whine adoringly. He hums into your skin again in response and speeds up his southward trajectory just the slightest bit.

His face comes between your breasts, and he runs his teeth down the valley, then licks his tongue up the same path. You shake a little, and his hand squeezes your breast tighter. The other one he mouths across until his tongue traces a slow, wet circle around your nipple. This shoots a hot, jolting current straight from where his mouth is connected to you down to between your legs.

He’s gentle for a while, moving back and forth between your tits, often agonizingly slowly, his hands kneading at your chest all the while. Without your expecting it, though, he bites one of your hard, sensitive nipples and tugs lightly. You squeal and push your chest into his mouth. He keeps going, switching as he fancies between rough and tender.

At a bite of the side of your breast, you rut up into him, and the movement has you feeling how wet you are. You’ve never been this wet before before direct stimulation.

Remus holds your hips down to the sofa but moves from your chest to your stomach. His roaming mouth proceeds at its perfect, maddening pace. It meanders to your ribs, down your sides, not following a straight path down.

Once he eventually reaches the threshold of your pants, he looks up at you.

Remus looks higher than you’ve ever seen him before. He looks elated, in awe.

“I want to spend hours and hours on your body like this,” he tells you, nuzzling his face into your lower stomach, kissing it as he detaches from you.

“Remus,” you whimper, running your hand into his hair and inadvertently thrusting your hips up. He chuckles, still sounding high, but his voice is as low as you’ve ever heard it.

He takes your trousers and underwear off in one efficient but slow tug. He pulls his shirt off much faster, and you touch all his skin you can reach before he’s repositioning himself.

Your thighs feel cold now uncovered, but it’s nothing compared to the sensation of fresh air on your soaking cunt. As you adjust your body, you feel a thick wetness drip from your entrance down to where your arse meets the sofa. You feel the coldness of that wetness even more as Remus pushes your legs further apart to position himself between them.

You’re completely sure you’re wetter than you’ve ever been before, but you’re not sure if you could possibly be as wet as you feel, thinking the high could be heightening your sensation of it. You’re worried it’s too much, worried you’ll put Remus off.

“I can clean up a little if —“ you start, but you’re cut off by Remus diving in, running his flat tongue slowly, firmly up from the base of your puddle up to your pubic bone. A strangled, prolonged gasp functions as the end of your sentence.

When Remus licks you again, your thighs shake on either side of his head. You feel him laugh into your cunt, and this time you imagine the vibrations shooting all the way up your body, following the chaotic roadmap his mouth left lingering across it.

Remus pulls back from you and rests his chin on your pubic bone, looking up at you.

He informs you simply, “You taste delicious, darling.” He looks drunk on it.

“Everything tastes better when you’re high,” you tease.

“Then I’m really going to enjoy this,” he smiles. “But I’m pretty sure you’ll get me high just by letting me do this other times.”

“Other times?”

“Well, yeah…” he giggles. His eyes bore into yours even though he’s the length of your torso away. “I though this was a first, not an only…”

“Good.” You sound giddy. “Just checking.”

“Silly,” he shakes his head at you. You thrust your hips up and laugh at the expression he makes when you bump his face, like he’s dazed. He squeezes your thigh harshly where he’s holding you.

“Behave, sunshine. It’s feeling dangerous down here.”

“I thought you were enjoying it.”

“I am.” A bite at your hip. “And I’m seriously getting the munchies, so just…” You don’t understand the end of his sentence, the words muffled against your skin as he starts eating you out.

It’s heavenly. High as you are, in love as you are, you think you’re on cloud nine. This gets you wondering where such an odd expression even comes from. It seems so random.

“Moony?”

“Hmm?” is grunted into your cunt.

“Why do you think it’s called being on cloud nine?”

He pulls back. The whole lower half of his face shines in your slick.

“Why are you thinking about that right now? Am I that bad at this?”

“Bad? It’s amazing.” You ruffle his hair in your groping hands. “Which is why I’m on cloud nine, which is why I’m thinking about that right now. Your hair is as soft as clouds, Moons.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Am not,” you giggle.

“Are,” he teases.

“Can you keep going now? It felt so good. Your mouth is ridiculous.” You thrust your hips up at him again.

“Ridiculous and bossy,” he complains, but he’s smiling hard, and before you can even think of a retort, he does as you bid.

His mouth takes its time between your legs. He spends eternities teasing you: mouthing at the tops of your thighs, licking up your bikini line, nipping at your clit without giving it the attention he knows you want from how loud you whine every time he gives it the slightest graze. He loves all over your vulva, not leaving any part untouched, unworshipped. His tongue fucks into your entrance languidly; it swirls there. He licks your labia, sucks on it, gives the same attention to your clit when you moan loud enough. He travels back and forth, seemingly enjoying all of it too much to stick to any one attention too long. The next time he lands on your clit, he prolongs it.

Your legs shake; your back arches; your whines grow loud before turning strangled, and Remus takes his cue to reserve the relaxed approach for later. He picks up his pace, gripping your thighs tightly and shakes his whole face into you, alternating between licking and sucking rhythmically at your clit. You cum hard, and it feels like it goes on for minutes.

With your eyes closed, you truly feel like you’re floating, your only anchor to the world Remus Lupin where you feel his body attached to yours.

You’re laughing in pleasure, and the laughs turn to pants as you slowly, slowly come down. You love coming down to an already high baseline, and you giggle at the sensation of relaxing into a still heightened state.

It suddenly strikes you it feels like it’s been years since you talked to Remus, heard his mellifluous voice, and you startle your eyes open searching for him.

You see him immediately. He’s gazing at you with equal parts ardor and adoration, but when he sees your expression, his shifts to concern.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong, my love?” He rushes to hover just above you. His face is close to yours again, though it’s scanning all over your body. His hand holds your face gently, his other arm holding him up. “Did something feel bad? Does something hurt?”

“No, no, I’m fine, Moons, I’m fine,” you rush to reassure. “I just missed you,” you explain.

“Missed me?” His eyes shoot to yours. “I’m right here, love; what do you mean you missed me?” He can’t help a subtle giggle, and his adoring expression takes back its rightful place on his beautiful face.

“I just thought I hadn’t seen you in too long.” Your hands caress his face, thread through his hair. “Or heard your voice…”

“Hmm,” he hums, leaning into your touch. “I’m right here. What do you want me to say?”

“Anything,” you smile.

“I love you.”

You’ve heard them before, but never like this, and they’re the best words in the world, in the universe.

“Remus,” you sigh, leaning up to kiss him. He tastes intensely of you, and you laugh into the kiss. “I’m sorry I got you so… so slicky.”

“I don’t mind,” he chuckles. “Means it was good, right?”

“Beyond. ‘Good’ is like… like one colour out of a whole rainbow for how that just felt.”

He’s beaming down at you and kisses you again, lingering there.

When he finally separates from you, his caressing thumb comes to wipe some slick at the corner of your lip. You grab his hand and kiss each of his fingers lightly. Then you lick down his long index finger, your tongue finding and following a scar up his hand to his wrist.

You look into his eyes, and he’s staring at you, transfixed.

“I was thinking about your fingers when you were rolling the spliff.”

“Yeah?” His voice is a desperate sigh.

“Yeah.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“How beautiful your hands are. How they’d feel touching me… How your fingers would feel inside me…”

“Fuck,” he whispers. “You wanna find out?”

“Yes,” you moan.

“Get them nice and wet for me, and I’ll show you.” They’re already lingering at your lips, but he slowly pushes them in. You welcome them enthusiastically and lazily suck on them, swirl your tongue around them.

“Fuck.” His voice is low. “Fuck, I want to feel everything there is to feel with you.”

“Mmm,” you nod, your mouth still full.

Remus takes his fingers out, kisses you, and lets his mouth stay on yours as his fingers trace down your chin, your chest, your stomach steadily, leaving a wet path. When they reach between your legs, you squirm in anticipation.

He rubs a couple of tight, slow circles on your clit. You’re so sensitive, and it feels amazing. You mewl into his mouth where it still hovers just above yours.

“Ready, my sunshine?”

“Mmhhmm.”

Remus pushes two fingers into you ever so slowly. You release a low, slow whine the whole time he takes to press in. He gives you gentle kisses, eating it up. When his fingers are in to the hilt, you wonder how you didn’t feel devastatingly empty every moment of your life before this one. When he adds a third, you’re sure you will every moment after.

You clench purposefully around him, and he moans into your mouth. Closing your eyes again, it’s the easiest thing to let yourself be consumed by the sensations, by Remus.

When he curls his fingers inside you, you clench again, this time automatically. You grip his hair and clutch his back, your arms pulling his body close to yours.

The spot he starts massaging feels like it’s a blazing fire, but everywhere else you’re connected, your chests, your mouths, is scattered scalding embers.

You’re savouring every second, every sensation, already feeling another high building but relishing in the time it’ll take to get there.

You run your hands down Remus’s back, feeling the bumps of his scars, the grooves of his defined muscles. For the first time all afternoon, you feel a desire to hurry…

You start moving your hips to meet his rhythm, eager, even more than for your own climax, for your turn to take your time on him.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus x reader #remus x you #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin smut #marauder x reader #marauders fanfic #sirius black #james potter #marauders fluff #marauders smut #remus lupin oneshot #friends to lovers

474 notes · View notes

islandofsages · 3 months

Text

darling heart.

summary: in which you are someone who participates in/identifies with jirai kei culture.

characters: heartslabyul boys x gn reader

tags: relationship not specified, fluff, imagines format

warnings: mentions of mental health, mentions of self-destructive tendencies

author's notes: hiiii this is very self-indulgent bc i am a jirai kei babe,, im specifically a jirai danshi <3 i might do for other dorms too, depending on my motivation lol you can find out more by searching up jirai kei tho dont just read the jfashion wiki for it, it's more than just a fashion style. also beware of potentially triggering stuff since it deals with mental health and all

Riddle Rosehearts

He’s intrigued by this subculture that you participate in and he’d ask you more about it, if you don't mind telling him - he’ll do his own research too anyway

When he finds out it's basically a subculture consisting of people with emotion dysregulation issues and is generally controversial, he checks up on you and asks you if you're okay or not

You laugh then – you’ve had your ups and downs but really, so has everyone. You hope reading about it hasn't scared him off

He’d feel like calling you a “landmine type” is too insensitive but you assure him that there's nothing to worry about and that people who participate in the subculture has reclaimed such stereotypes and fully embrace it

He’d really enjoy seeing you decked out in jirai kei fashion; he may want to try it himself but he’d insist that it's not in his place to participate, only support from the sidelines

You do get him to try out clothes that are similar to or inspired by the culture though – he seems to be comfortable in the style and you're happy that something that you enjoy can also bring the same joy to him

You’ll also recommend some songs to him, especially ones that you think would help him in studying despite the sometimes concerning lyrical content

If someone tries to bully you for identifying with the subculture, he’d step in immediately and defend your honor

“What right do you have in deciding what (Y/N) identifies with? That's what I thought. I’m always in the right.”

Through your downs and ups, Riddle will always be there for you.

Ace Trappola

He has heard of it before but he thought it was only a type of fashion, not a whole subculture with more substance to it than clothes

You’d infodump to him all about it and your journey with it, whether you just discovered it or have been identifying with it for a long time – he listens to you curiously all the while

He’s caught off guard for a moment by the more controversial and depressing part of it but he quickly recovers

He’s happy for you and glad that you’re comfortable having such a culture define a part of you

Though he implores not to do all the self-destructive stuff if you could and he’ll look out for you more just in case

He definitely thinks you rock while wearing your jirai kei outfits; it’s not his style but he wouldn’t mind trying it once, just to get a feel for the style

“Yeah, this is definitely not my thing… you, on the other hand, look pretty awesome.”

You’d give him a link for your playlist (or a playlist you’ve saved) and he’d listen to it when he’s bored – ends up adding a few songs to his personal playlist

If he finds anyone stereotyping you unnecessarily, he’ll call them out, saying as if they’re any better

Despite everything, you are still uniquely you in his eyes.

Deuce Spade

He apologizes for not knowing too much about it when you bring it up and you tell him it’s okay because it gives you an excuse to ramble about it

You tell him what it entails and how you’ve come to find out about it, sifting through your past experiences both good and bad

He tries very hard to be understanding, even if he doesn’t really get it. You’re just grateful to have his support

“I don’t really get it but it gives you a sense of community, right? I think that’s pretty cool!”

He’s also a little concerned about the mental illness part so he’d regularly check up on you to make sure you’re doing okay

He’d ask you to tell him more about your experiences with the subculture if you have any more and if anything exciting happens, you go to him first

Such as acquiring a brand new article of jirai kei clothing for example! He thinks the style is super pretty and fits you really, really well

He’d listen to the music together with you, sharing earphones and all – maybe he would even listen to them while he tries to do anything

He’ll be your guard dog and bite back whoever dares to make fun of you for being part of the subculture’s community you’ll have to calm him down sometimes

You couldn’t ask for a better cheerleader than him.

Cater Diamond

He’s always known about the subculture and although he doesn't participate in it, he thinks it's really neat

You tell him more about it and about the misconceptions people have about it so that he doesn't misunderstand

He’s super stoked that he knows someone in real life who actually participates in the subculture since he gets to see how it actually is in reality

He mostly knows about the fashion and when you come rocking up to him wearing the classic jirai kei look, he tries his best not to fanboy

He compliments you then proceeds to ask you where you got it – though cute styles like it aren’t his thing, he feels like he can give this style a try

He’d match with you on days he doesn’t feel too uncomfortable with more cutesy styles and snap pictures of you two to post on Magicam

He’d also go scouring for the music online to add more songs to his already rapidly growing playlist. He’d share some recommendations with you too!

Unintentionally got you more jirai kei friends since some people saw his posts about matching with you on Magicam; even people you already know commented on his post

“Look at us, (Y/N)! We’re totally Magicam-famous now~”

You laugh with him, head thrown back while the seeds of your relationship bloom behind where the two of you sit.

Trey Clover

He doesn’t know too much about it so he’ll ask you to explain to him what it is – to which you excitedly agree to

You tell him everything from the origins to how you’ve come to participate in the subculture – he nods patiently all the while

The mental health part of it has him questioning you a bit but he has no ill intention, he’s simply looking out for you and is worried about you

He’s supportive all the way and thinks it’s nice that you have something you’re passionate about. He’d even do his own research when he has the time

He’s pleasantly surprised when you show up wearing jirai kei fashion one day; he definitely thinks you look striking in the get-up

He wouldn’t mind going with you if you were to shop for more jirai kei-related things – he would joke you’ll have to repay by helping him out another time though

He’ll listen to your song recommendations and if he likes them enough, he’d listen to them while he’s in the kitchen. He likes that they remind him of you

“Oh, this one’s pretty catchy. …These lyrics though…”

Going places with you certainly catches attention sometimes but he doesn’t mind, as long as you’re happy and comfortable in your own skin

His name truly defines him – you sure feel lucky to have him in your life.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #platonic twst x reader #platonic twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #ace trappola #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade #deuce spade x reader #cater diamond #cater diamond x reader #trey clover #trey clover x reader

59 notes · View notes

romeulusroy · 11 months

Text

Dependence Pt. 5 (Roy!Sibling x Roy Family)

Alternatively Titled: We Ain't Angry At You Love, You're The Greatest Thing We Lost I am getting this lyric tattooed on my body I'm dead serious

Characters: Kendall, Roman, Shiv, Connor, Logan

Word Count: 1,879

Inspired By: You're Gonna Go Far by Noah Kahan

Tag List: @locke-writes

A/N: All I have is the snippet to listen to and it makes me sob every time. I'm thinking of moving 1k miles away from my family, from my home, from everything, and every bone in my body wishes they felt the way this song feels. Every nerve in my body wants them to feel this way. I hope they'll miss me that much. Anyways, it reminded me of Baby Roy and the Succession finale. Yes I did cry while writing, what about it lol!! Feedback is always appreciated!!! 💜💜💜

Dependence Pt. 1 / Dependence Pt. 2 / Dependence Pt. 3 / Dependence Pt. 4

Being The Youngest Roy Would Include: Pt. 1

Being The Youngest Roy Would Include: Pt. 2

You’re gonna go far, he says into you, his arms tight around you. You try to stop yourself from crying. Again. Sniffling into him, into his shoulder. Everything about this moment makes you want to turn around. To call the whole thing off. But then, how can you call off an entire lifetime? Your bags linger at your feet, everything you could fit into two suitcases. You didn’t start out like this, the day didn’t start out like this, but as it progressed, as things fell into place, you realized there was no place for you. In their lives, of course. Connor promised you your old room again, if you ever wanted to visit. But this place, this apartment, this city, it wasn’t yours anymore. It wasn’t home. You’re not sure it ever was to begin with. You remember to call me when you land, okay? An,whenever you need someone to talk to, I’m always here. He has this shake in his voice, the kind that tells you he’s doing his very best to keep himself together. Composed. You can’t say anything, the words getting caught in your throat. Instead you just nod, sobbing into his sweater. He holds you tighter, rubbing your back. When he stops, he cups your face, meeting your teary eyes, wiping your cheeks. Pops would be so proud of you. He wouldn’t. He never was. But at some point you have to stop chasing something that never existed, something you can never have. You smile for Connor’s sake. Maybe he really believes it. Maybe he’s just saying it. Either way, you’re glad you went to him. You’re glad you told him. You’re gonna so far, you have no idea. He sighs, as if the words have been sitting on his chest for a long time. As if this is the first time in your life he’s felt real, genuine relief. You want to be held a little longer. You want to be loved the only way a father, a father by choice rather than blood, could ever love their child. Without conditions, without restraints, without a ceiling or a floor. Infinite. Beautiful. You’ll have to let go eventually, part ways, but for now he holds you like he did when you were an infant. Never could he have imagined the life you’d live. It was a fantastic surprise. You were a fantastic surprise.

You continue to awe him every single day.

You catch him at the bar, nursing a martini. Your hands begin to shake, but you settle them at your side, sitting beside him. You can do this. He wasn’t expecting you, sliding his drink away from you. You’re okay, you’ll be okay. You can be around it, you have to in order to say goodbye. He notices the luggage before you have the chance to say anything. Going somewhere? You bite your inner cheek. Yes, actually. He turns to you. His stitches have opened, the wound bright and red. Angry. You try to read his expression. There’s a hint of fear. He saw you in that bed, screaming, crying, begging not to be alive anymore. You knew he meant it out of love, but you couldn’t face it anymore. You couldn’t be looked at like that anymore. If you wanted a fresh start, a real one, you had to get away. You had to find somewhere with people who saw you for you, not your mistakes, not your darkest moments. Somewhere inside him, he understood that. Somewhere inside him, he wanted the same thing. Leaving for him wasn’t an option, though. Is that so? What does Mummy think about that? He sips his drink. You don’t want to roll your eyes at him. You don’t want to be annoyed with him. You’re not sure how long it’ll be before you’ll see him again. I, I didn’t tell her. I’m not telling her. He lets your answer settle for a moment. You’re not sure what he’s thinking. You never have been sure. Roman could be so unreadable, so unpredictable. You keep talking, trying to fill the silence, a lump developing in your throat. You’re speaking so fast, almost hysterical. You have to explain yourself. You have to explain yourself or you’ll die. I have to get away. I’m not sure for how long, I just, I can’t be here anymore. I have to stay sober and I can’t do that here. It’s not because of you, because of any of you, I want you to know that. I’m, I’m sorry if that upsets you or makes you ang- But he interrupts you, leaning over, hugging you. Not as tight as Connor. It’s as if he’s afraid to touch you still, afraid to hurt you. Gentle. You feel his muscles tense then relax. Whatever you gotta do, you do. Just don’t scare me like that again. You promise him it will never happen again.

It won’t. It doesn’t. The hurt from home doesn’t follow you, wherever you go.

You can’t reach the other two. You try calling, the deja vu twisting your stomach. The last time you tried to reach them, the last time. . . No. Stop it. This isn’t that. You’re better now. Shiv picks up, waiting for you to talk. You don’t care what happened. You don’t care what went down in that boardroom. You don’t care that he’s CEO now, that you lost. She’s your sister. The same sister that comforted you after nightmares, who iced your bruises, who wanted the best for you from day one. Whatever happened couldn’t change that. She gave you so many chances, time after time, and you let her down. You let everyone down. She still cares, she always would. You would, too. The words come up, out, before you can stop them. How much you love her, how much you’re going to miss her, how badly you need this, how much you wish you could be with her right now. You hear her take a sharp inhale in, a shudder in her voice. I’ll come and visit, yeah? Wherever you end up, I’ll be there, okay? You nod. Yeah, yeah of course. You can feel your eyes well up again. She was your big sister, the only maternal figure you’d ever known. It wasn’t your mother who shushed you to sleep at night, holding you close. It wasn’t your mother who gasped at the bruises you gave yourself in a fit of rage. It wasn’t your mother who climbed into that hospital bed with you when you were sick and scared and didn’t want to fall asleep alone. It was Shiv. You're Shivy. Your sister. Do you have everything packed? Always fretting, always worrying. Yes, Mom. You laugh. You know she’ll be a good mother. Maybe she doesn’t think so, maybe Tom doesn’t, but you do. She took care of you your whole life. She’s still trying to. You um, you have your chargers? Extra socks? Do you need me to- I’ll be okay, you interrupt. You’re both quiet for a moment, taking one another in. You can feel her wanting. Wanting to reach through the phone and kiss your cheek, to hold you so close your hearts beat at the same time. Wanting to keep you there forever, not wanting to let go.

She always knew this day would come, though. You’d always had big plans. You could never be confined like the rest of them.

You couldn’t reach Kendall. It went straight to voicemail. So you sat in the lobby of Waystar, trying to figure out exactly how to put it. Every thought in your mind, every thank you and I’m sorry and forgive me and I forgive you. Everything that’s ever sat between you two into a compact, meaningful message. You didn’t want to worry him, that was the last time you wanted, for any of them. You sat and watched everyone pass by. They were celebrating the new owner, one of the biggest deals they’d ever made. Some on their way to get drunk, others drunk already. Too much champagne. Finally, after a long time, you called again, listening to his voice play the message. Kendall, it’s me, you start. What next? You’re sorry. You’re sorry for putting them through all that you’ve put them through. The alcohol, the drugs, all those scary nights where they didn’t know where you were, if you were okay. All those nights where you weren’t sure where you were, if you’d make it out. You were sorry for calling him that night, for putting the blame on him if anything happened. You were sorry for blaming him. For not being the baby sibling he deserved. He deserved better, he expected better. I’m uh, I’ll be out of town for a while. You forgave him. You forgave him for all those outbursts, all those times he hurt you and Shiv and Con and especially Rome. You forgave him for turning into your father, the man you despised, the man you feared, the man you loved. I’ll be okay. I won’t, I’m not, I’m clean. I’ll stay that way. You loved him. You loved him despite the fear, despite the outbursts, despite the narrow path he chose to take. You loved him, and love him, because he’s your brother. He begged for you to stay awake, stay conscious. He wanted you to live even when you didn’t. That night, he looked like a ghost. I’m gonna miss you. A lot. Thank you for taking care of me, for loving me, for being there, you want to say. Thank you for being the best brother you could given the circumstances. Thank you for protecting me from him, from everyone. Call me when you can. I love you. Bye.

This isn’t some magic answer to your sobriety. This isn’t a cure. Hell, it might be you running away again. Who knows? But you can feel it, finally. The anger, the rage, the wrath. That burden starts to feel less heavy day by day. It won’t disappear completely. You’re a Roy, it’s in your blood, in your genes. But it gets easier to carry, to hold, to take with you everywhere. You don’t want to cave in, not as much. Sure, a strong drink would help, but you made promises. You made promises you’d like to keep. Promises to yourself and to your family. You’d call Connor when you landed, wherever that is. You’ll tell Shivy, too, so she can come and visit. You’ll check in with Rome and give Kendall another call. Hopefully this time he picks up. Hopefully this time you can have a real conversation, you can talk to him, really thank him for all that he’s done. But you know your place is not here. Your people are, they always will. That mausoleum will be waiting for you like it waits for them. Eternity you’ll get to spend by their sides. Now though, now you have the choice. The choice to get better. The choice to get away. The choice to be free. You’ll see them again, you always will. They’re your brothers, your sister, the people who raised you. You’ll see them again despite the distance.

They can’t get rid of you that easily.

#writing #connor roy #connor roy imagine #connor roy x reader #kendall roy #kendall roy imagine #kendall roy x reader #shiv roy #shiv roy imagine #shiv roy x reader #roman roy #roman roy imagine #roman roy x reader #succession #succession imagine #succession x reader

101 notes · View notes

daddypriceugh · 7 months

Text

Dog tags

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

It's currently 11:40 pm and my brain is still working lol.

This will be the last fic for today, but i hope that i'll be able to post again tomorrow or on tuesday :)

Tw: character death

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

The day began quite normal.

It was Saturday, which meant that you didn't have work. You spent the day cleaning the house and buying groceries. It was the same routine that happened every Saturday. But this time there was an exception.

You loving husband was supposed to come home today. He's been gone for 3 months now and you two weren't able to phone each other, because of him being busy.

You hated to admit it but it was hard without him. The house felt empty. It was only you and your thoughts. His pillow has stopped smelling like him a month ago. You cried yourself to sleep every night, without someone telling you that everything would be ok.

John and you had fought a lot about his job. Him saying that you shouldn't be so dramatic about him having to leave. Moments like these made you realise that he's just a man. A man that sometimes -more often than you wished- loved his job more than anything else. Tho of course he would never say that out loud. His team was like a second family, so it wasn't hard for him to leave. But it was for you.

You had met his team before, in a pub to be more specific. John had asked you to meet them and you obviously couldn't say no to his puppy eyes.

You trusted his team to bring him back home. Alive. That had always worked, at least until now.

You were now standing in the kitchen preparing John's favourite meal. It was a receipt from his mother. A simple, yet delicious dish.

You stirred the bacon in the pan while listening to a song that was on the radio. The atmosphere was calming down your nerves, as you were excited to see your husband again.

While humming the song, you heard the door bell ringing. You turned off the stove and half sprinted towards the door.

You opened it with a smile, but you weren't greeted with John. No, his team was standing on the porch, faces formed into frowns.

Your smile faltered a bit, but you recovered quickly. "Hey nice to see you again! I didn't know we will have dinner guests over" you laughed slightly. Seeing them not returning the gesture made you nervous. And only then did you realise, that John wasn't there.

You looked around confused only to see something metallic laying in Gaz's hand. Dog tags.

"W-what...?"

Your weary smile fell. A shiver ran down your spine. No, that couldn't be his.

A feeling of hurt engulfed your body, and you could hear your heart beating in your ears.

It seemed that Gaz saw the change of demeanour, because he stepped forward and handed you the dog tags.

His hand took a hold of your shaky one as you examined the object.

Your eyes were glossy as you read the gravure. Captain John Price.

That was the moment your world fell apart. You let out a sob as your knees buckled, making you fall to the ground.

Gaz caught you and sank to the floor with you in his arms. He clinged onto you as if he was afraid to let go.

Your body went hysterical as you cried into his shoulder, clutching the dog tags. Your husbands dog tags.

"H-he promised! He fucking promised to come back" you cried out. Sadness mixing with anger directed at your husband for breaking his promise.

Soap and Ghost were still standing on the same spot, watching the scene unfold. Sadness was still a prominent feeling in their body.

They knew that Price wanted them to tell you that he died. To tell you that he loved you more than anything.

But that didn't make the situation easier as they felt your pain. Your usual bubbly personality was gone and grief took over.

Minutes went by with you still crying for your dead husband, while hugging the dear life out of Gaz.

Soap watched them with sympathy as something caught his eyes. It was the small but prominent bump of your stomach. His heart dropped when he realised that you were pregnant. You probably wanted to tell Price the good news after he came home.

Soap took a deep breath and starred up to the sky, wishing that it had been him dying instead of his Captain.

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

Critique and tips for improvements are always welcome <3

I really have to stop posting angsty fics haha.

Have a nice day/ evening :)

(English isn't my first language so please excuse minor grammar mistakes <3)

#john price x reader #captain john price x reader #Captain john price x reader angst #cod angst #cod mw2 #captain john price

51 notes · View notes

fbfh · 8 months

Text

curiosity is a wonderful thing - chapter 2

wc: 3.3k

genre: politics, slice of life, slow burn, best friends to lovers

pairing: audrey x ben, belle x adam (aka beast), eventual ben x reader

warnings: politics, audrey suuuuuucks, the isle has bad living conditions, adam yells (not at ben he's just fired up)

summary: ben is ready to announce his first proclamation to his parents. It's risky, and he knows he needs to rely on the support of his friends and girlfriend. but mostly support from you.

song recs: descendants score suite - descendants score, queen of peace - florance and the machine

a/n: thinking thoughts about ben lol. as always fangs to cici for beta reading <3

tags @yesv01 @magcon7280 @dustyinkpages @demirunner @strawberry-cake1 @kiara7777 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sunshineangel-reads

“Your first proclamation, huh?” Ben’s dad asks with a deep chuckle. “What have you got?”

Facing your parents is nerve wracking for anyone, but it’s especially intimidating when your mom is regarded as hands down one of the smartest people in the country, and your dad can turn into a hulking 10 foot tall razor toothed beast. Ben has been training to be a good politician and a good king for his whole life. Every single day he’s been praised for listening, not going against the grain, for having a level head and coming to the same conclusions as his parents. Up until now, it’s been a very good thing, his parents have been such great rulers, and he’s grateful to have such experienced footsteps to follow in and learn from. His parents taught him to listen to his heart, to form his own opinions and do good even when it’s hard. He takes in a deep breath, steadying himself for this, for the first time he’s going to stand up for something his parents might not be behind. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, it’s terrifying.

As quickly as the feeling arises, he thinks of you. He thinks about when he first found out that when they were rounding up villains for the isle, there was a lot of debate on if they should put Wonderlandians there as well. They were described as volatile and chaotic. Ben has never, ever thought of you as either of those things. It made him feel sick then - and makes him feel sick now - that if no one had advocated for Wonderland, if no one had advocated for your mom and for you, that he would never have met the best person he’s ever had the honor of knowing. Ben gets to know you, Ben gets the honor and privilege of having you in his life because someone advocated for you, and stood up for the underdog. All of his nerves suddenly stand strong and tall, forming an armor of determination that wraps around him.

“I want to bring four children from the Isle of the Lost over to Auradon, to give them a second chance.”

Ben’s heart pounds, but his gaze is unwavering. He’s not going to have to lay awake at night any longer, worrying about the kids on the Isle and not being able to do anything about it. He’s doing what he always promised himself he’d do - use his power to make good changes for people who can’t make changes for themselves. He almost loses his conviction when he sees how angry his dad is becoming at the very thought of bringing children from the Isle to Auradon. Ben knows why he’s getting like this. He thinks Ben hasn’t thought this through, that he’s putting public safety at risk. Before that little nagging voice of self doubt starts to get the better of him, Ben thinks back to you, and he feels his fear become replaced with conviction.

“Every time I look out at the Isle, I feel like they’ve been abandoned.”

All of the work you helped him put into this proclamation, all the practice and talking points circle his head like the guiding beam of a lighthouse. He finds himself right back on track, and he meets his father’s gaze with what he hopes comes off as confident self assurance. He takes in a small breath, steadying himself. He’s not just defending his ideas, his arguments, he’s defending the rights of every innocent child born into the isle.

Belle looks shocked. All she can think about is the pain and terror she and many of her good friends - and countless other people, to varying extents - endured at the hands of the people who were sequestered off to the Isle. Adam doesn’t even need to look at his wife to know exactly what’s going through her mind, and he feels a lot of the protective and defensive feelings over her coming back. He hasn’t felt this way since before he got rid of that piece of shit Gaston, and ensured he couldn’t hurt his wife or his people again.

“The children of our sworn enemies?” He asks, stepping forward, “Living among us?”

He wonders for a moment if Ben has somehow magically forgotten what it was like before. The sense of fear knowing that villains were out there, in hiding or in far away lairs, that they could come back and wreak havoc at any moment. Adam stares down his son, but Ben refuses to waver under his gaze. Of course he hasn’t forgotten. But Adam had never asked to be treated like a monster all those years, and if things had gone differently, maybe it would be him and Ben on the Isle. The children shouldn’t have to suffer for their parents’ choices.

“Not all of them, just a few at first. To start out.” Ben says, hoping it will clarify that he doesn’t intend to turn Auradon into a state of anarchy and chaos, “The ones who need our help the most.”

Belle takes a breath and nods at her son’s words. She’s trying to keep an open mind about all this, not rush to judgment and jump to conclusions like the people in her village would when she was growing up. She waits for Ben to continue. He locks eyes with his mom for a moment, and even under the current circumstances, he can still feel her unwavering support. A brief wave of love and gratitude for her wash over him, but he knows now isn’t the time to get sappy. Feeling a renewed sense of belief in him from his mom, he smiles a little as he looks back at his dad.

“I’ve already chosen them.” He states.

His dad can smell fear - literally. Being able to smell nervous systems and pheromones are one of the many bizarre abilities you gain after being magically transformed into a beast - so Ben uses all his strength to stay calm and confident. If he can pull this off, if he can really sell this confidently, the potential good it could bring to innocent people trapped on the Isle would be immeasurable. Adam doesn’t say anything for a moment, waiting to see if Ben wavers under his gaze. When he finally speaks, his voice is tense.

“Have you?”

Ben is fighting with his life to stay composed. Belle looks between them for a moment, then places her hand on Adam’s arm. He rests his hand on hers, acknowledging her, but doesn’t break eye contact with his son. Belle knows that all her son wants is to do good. He’s the best parts of both of them. Maybe their generation wouldn’t have been ready for this, but Ben is paving the way to a new era. It’s his time to step up, and trust his instincts. Although the thought terrifies her, Belle would be lying if she said she couldn’t see any merit to his plan.

“I gave you a second chance.” She says softly. Ben knew this was going to be hard, he was expecting opposition, but he’s infinitely grateful that his mom is on his side. If she’s on board, eventually his dad will come around too. Her support always means the world to him, but there’s something extra special there today. It’s the same way that you support him, and as his thoughts turn from his mother's support to yours, he finds himself full of renewed strength and determination.

"Who are their parents?" Belle asks. Ben takes in a breath, deciding to work his way up.

"Cruella…"

Belle takes in a small breath at the mention of her name, and Adam's shoulders tense. It's only going to get worse from here, so Ben bites the bullet and continues. After being hunted like an animal by an angry mob, Adam can't stand cruelty to animals even more than he had before.

"Jafar…"

Belle takes in a sharp breath at the mention of his name. After the technological boom that resulted in Auradon creating an alliance with Atlantis, magic is mostly antiquated. However, that won't stop someone as power hungry as Jafar from seeking out any artifacts he can, no matter the cost.

"The Evil Queen…"

Adam clenches his jaw, trying his hardest to remain calm. It's taken years to repair the damage to the Winter's Keep agriculture, even the mention of a poison apple will have them importing all their produce. The very idea of having the child of the Evil Queen in Auradon could send the agricultural industry spiraling.

"And…" before Ben can announce the last one, a wave of nerves manages to get past the wall of confidence he’s been so carefully building. His dad can sense it, Ben’s sure. He knows the only way to handle this is to keep going before he gets even more nervous.

“Maleficent.”

A chill passes through the room, and you’d think Ben had declared the last refugee to be the spawn of Hades himself.

“Maleficent?!” Adam barks. Behind them, Lumier gasps, dropping his pins. He gathers his sewing supplies and exits quickly. Ben is unsure if Lumier’s shaking hands are from his father’s outburst, or the mention of the evil fairy’s name.

“Dad-”

“She’s the most dangerous, volatile villain in the land!”

Ben had expected this kind of reaction. Fairies becoming evil is incredibly rare. Most mainland fairies originate deep in the enchanted forests of Schwartzvald, and as seasons change, they can migrate to other forests. There’s a certain type of magic that’s unique to fairies, it’s very powerful and impossible to recreate by non fairies. When a fairy corrupts itself with dark magic, another incredibly powerful and corrosive source of power, the consequences are cataclysmic. Maleficent is living proof of that.

“Just, hear me out dad-”

“Absolutely not!” Adam barks, “I won’t hear of it!”

“Dad-”

“She is guilty of unspeakable crimes!”

“And her child?!”

His question hangs in the air between them.

“All of the children, are they guilty too? Their only crime is living.”

Sixteen years ago, Adam never would have entertained the thought. But now, being a parent himself…

“The children are innocent.” Ben continues, and Adam can hear the passion, the desire to fight for those kids on the Isle in his voice, “They deserve a chance.”

Belle is moved by Ben’s argument, and in spite of his hesitance, Adam is too. A small flurry of pride rushes through him at the sight of how strong and well spoken his son is becoming. They sit in the space between Ben’s words for a moment, but it feels like an eternity. Belle gives Adam’s arm a squeeze, silently encouraging him. After a moment, he speaks.

“I suppose… the children are innocent.”

Adam turns around, pinching the bridge of his nose, and Belle walks up to Ben, adjusting the collar of his shirt.

“Good job.” She says, so softly he would have missed it if not for the glimmer of pride in her eyes. She pats his chest affectionately before walking back over to Adam, taking his arm as they leave. She’ll talk to him about all this later, Ben knows she will. If anyone can get his dad to be on board with this, it’s going to be his mom.

Ben gazes down at his signet ring, remembering the promise he made to himself when he first received it. He hasn’t taken it off since. He is going to be a good king. He looks out at the Isle, wishing he could do something about it right now. He wishes he could just take Fairy Godmother’s wand and fix everything, but real change takes time. Sustainable change takes time. Ben is going to be a good king, who makes real, sustainable change. He’s going to be a good chapter in the history books - the ones written in Auradon, and on the Isle.

With a deep sigh, he carefully takes off the suit jacket Lumier had been tailoring and makes a mental note to reschedule the rest of his fitting from today. He begins to run through his schedule for the day, but his thoughts keep getting pulled back to you. He's so excited to tell you everything. You were both prepared for a much bigger fight to get his parents' support on this, and he didn't end up having to use a fraction of his talking points. He exits into the hallway, elated at how it went, and heads toward his room. He's not even ten steps down the hall when he almost trips over a pair of legs.

He looks down, surprised to see you. You had been so engrossed in what you were doing that you entirely lost track of time. Your face lights up when you see him.

"Ben!" You exclaim happily, shoving your things back into your tea pot bag. "How did it go?"

You study his face for some kind of indication, but all you see is surprise. And warmth. You had told him you'd wait outside for him, but he hadn't actually expected that of you. Wonderlandians have a distorted sense of time, so hours can feel like minutes, or minutes can feel like an eternity. You explained to him what it's like all those years ago, and he's always been very understanding and done his best to make sure you're accommodated. Most importantly, he's never asked you to push yourself, and he's always covered for you when you need to slip away for a little while. All thoughts of the meeting with his parents are gone as he looks down at you, how you'd been waiting for him.

"You… you waited out here for me instead of going to Wonderland?" He asks, his voice soft.

"Of course," you say matter of factly, still waiting to hear about how it went. Ben’s chest flutters with appreciation for you, for having you in his life. Wonderland is your favorite place in the entire world, there's nowhere and nothing that makes you happier. But you still waited out here for him. You chose him. He snaps out of his train of thought, realizing you're still waiting on an answer.

"It went well." He states. Your face lights up, and he can't help but smile.

"It did?" You ask, and Ben realizes that you're just as invested in this as he is. He laughs a little, nodding.

"Yeah. I- I need to rearrange some things, we have to plan for their arrival, and call a press-"

His words are cut off by the celebratory laugh that bubbles out of you. You throw your arms around his neck, hugging him tight. Your body is warm against him, and you smell like tea and pastries and… something familiar.

“I knew you could do it!” You exclaim. He lets out a hesitant laugh, and holds you back. He's done a lot today, so he lets himself indulge in your embrace. When you finally pull away, he holds your arms, rubbing them gently as you ramble.

"So, what next?" You ask, still beaming up at him.

“Uh…” He starts, still processing everything. “We need to go over the agenda, make sure their arrival is smooth. A press conference, definitely,” he adds, and you nod, agreeing.

He suddenly remembers he was supposed to meet up with Audrey today. He pauses, hating to have to cancel on her again.

“...And Audrey.” He pulls out his phone to call her. You prepare yourself to comfort him, to reassure him that he’s not being a bad boyfriend, he’s being a good politician. You don’t know why Audrey insists on giving him such a hard time. You would think that she’d know what to expect of having a boyfriend in politics at this point, much less a boyfriend in the royal family. You listen to Ben’s conversation after she picks up.

“Hey, Audrey, hi. So, about my first proclamation pitch,” Ben says, excitement bubbling out of him. Through the speaker of his phone, you can hear Audrey’s voice.

“Right, right. When is that supposed to happen again? Cause you promised you’d take me to Camelot Heights this weekend, Bennyboo…”

You don’t understand how anyone could be so apathetic towards something as monumental as a first proclamation. You can tell Ben feels the same. He’s thrown, but he’s trying not to show it.

“Uh… today. It- it happened today. Just now.”

“Oh, so you’re finally done with all that stuff?”

There’s a moment of silence that hangs between the two of you before Ben answers.

“Uh…” he chuckles again, “done preparing for the pitch, yes. Remember when we went over the agenda? Pitch, then timeline and planning, then press meetings…” He says, trying to jog her memory.

“Uh-huh.”

You can almost see her now, filing her nails before cheerleading practice.

“Right, so now we need to plan everything out, make sure it’s practical to follow through with the pitch.”

She doesn’t say anything, waiting for him to get to the point.

“I know we had plans tonight, but I’m going to be in and out of meetings all day, probably all weekend, then it’s going to be a media frenzy…” he says, mentally trying to fit everything into his already jam-packed schedule.

Sitting out on the tourney field before cheer practice, Audrey pauses. A media frenzy? That’s going to give her a lot of face time, and publicity with Bennyboo.

“I totally understand,” she starts, suddenly engaged in their conversation. Ben pauses, looking mildly confused.

“You do?”

“Of course, Bennyboo. You have fun at your meetings. Let me know the day before we start all that press so I can get a hair appointment.” She looks down at her nails, setting aside her file. “And my cuticles need some serious work…”

“Uh…” Ben chuckles. You can tell he’s disappointed by her reaction. You are too, you just expected she’d do something like this. Ben has been trying to connect with Audrey about politics since they started dating, she said she cared about helping the people of Auradon just as much as he did, but she only said that to get closer to him, to win him over. Ben wishes she would engage with the people more, wishes he could get her to care like he does. But he knows it’s not worth a fight with her, not on a day as important as today.

“Right, right. I’ll, uh,” He pulls out his planner, scribbling something down, “I’ll make sure you get that hair appointment…”

“And nails.” Audrey adds.

“Right.” Ben states. You watch them say goodbye and hang up, and you can sense how unsatisfied Ben feels with that whole exchange. He needs a pick me up, he needs to be reminded about what a success today has been. You smile at him, trying to contain your excitement. One look at you and he already finds himself smiling again, thinking about what’s important.

“So, what’s first? A meeting with Fairy Godmother, surely.” You say, seeming to read his mind.

“Yeah,” he nods. You follow him down the hall as he begins to ramble. “We’ll need to discuss security, too. And accommodations.”

His dissatisfaction with Audrey, with her apathy towards politics fades away as he rambles to you. You agree with his plan, adding in a few vital things he hadn’t thought of. Ben feels a renewed sense of strength as you accompany him to the million proclamation meetings he has for the rest of the day. You really are his right hand man, his best friend, and he’s so grateful that you’re here for him through all of this. He knows as sure as anything that he could never do it without you.

#curiosity is a wonderful thing #descendants #descendants x reader #ben florian #ben florian x reader #daughter of alice!reader

96 notes · View notes

dearhargrove · 1 year

Note

hi! it's me again 🦄 i was just listening to lost in the fire by the weeknd and i couldn't help thinking about billy hargrove. so if it gives you inspiration or you want to write something about it i won't be mad 🫶🏻

You're the only one I got my sights on

summary Billy has always been known to never be with a girl for more than one night. When whatever it was between you and him evolves into more he reassures you he only wants you - no matter his reputation.

word count 1342

tags swearing, Billy being soft, he's scareddd but doesn't wanna admit

a/n Uhm, hi..! I disappeared for like 4 months lol. Hello to everyone that's still here <3 so, @descendiente-de-la-luna I know you requested this tons of months ago, and I'm SO SORRY. I always thought the song was more about sex but I read the lyrics more thoroughly today and realized that they actually fit with Billy!!! So, thank you for this genius request and I'm super sorry it took me so long. I hope you enjoy this at least 💓

navigation | masterlist

You sighed, Heather kept repeating herself. Ever since you started your… thing with Billy she's been going on and on about how he isn't good for you because he's an asshole and because he will leave you soon.

You guessed she had reasoning to think so; after all that's exactly what he wanted everyone to see and think. He wanted to show that he could have anyone, so why would he settle for only one person?

All that may have been true, but then you came along. Sure, you guessed it was a little cliché: the bad boy falling for someone like you. Someone like you, that wasn't popular, neither disliked but at the same time no one really knew you.

"Heather," you interrupt and she stops with her rant, eyes locking on you. "What's between him and me stays between just him and me. Stop telling me what to do, it's none of your business." You weren't even really friends, you both worked at the pool and your shifts overlapped. That ended with you talking, though it was usually more of a one-sided conversation for her.

You liked the peace and quiet this job would have usually brought. The kids coming here we're either intimidated by you or generally didn't care enough to cause trouble. At first your shifts were shared with Billy.

You caught his attention when he came here the first time to see you tell off some kid because he kept running along the edges of the pool. To him, it was hilarious. The boy had probably almost wet himself from fear and embarrassment, just for you to go back to your magazine with an annoyed sigh immediately after.

He'd tried flirting with you after, making his usual crude comments and flirty remarks. But you didn't give him the reaction he wanted. You either ignored him or only answered shortly or insulted him.

But even then, it wasn't long until you slept together the first time. Two months after seeing each other almost every day your resolve broke and you slept with him after closing the pool up together. It had been a long and tiring day and when he offered you gave in.

It was probably the best lay you've had, though you'd never tell him. After that you got reassigned with Heather which you thought would be the end of your and Billy's acquaintance.

He proved differently when he came every evening to pick you up in his car after your shifts.

It made you feel more than what you usually felt; instead of dreading his presence because of the annoying flirting you anticipated it.

The car rides were filled with his loud music and at least one near accident because of his speeding. Sometimes you talked but most of the time he let you nap as he drove you home, the way to your house ingrained into his memories.

You started thanking him with cheek kisses three weeks in and he made poor attempts to cover up the blush on his cheeks. It was cute and you were falling for it. Falling for him and all of his harsh persona.

"That's right, piss off," someone drawls from behind you and seconds later an arm wraps around your hips loosely. Heather pales and leaves quickly, making you sigh in relief.

"Thanks, she's been on my ass about us for days." Billy chuckles and flicks his cigarette away, mindful of your distaste concerning his habit. "Yeah? What's this 'us'?" There's a smirk on his face and you wrap your arms around his neck with a matching one. "I don't know. You tell me?"

He laughs breathily and rests his head against your shoulder putting well-placed kisses on your neck. You sigh and let your head fall back, enjoying his gentle teasing. This either meant he was in a good mood or he just wanted to sleep with you.

You guessed the second when he cups your cheek with his big hand and looks up. "Let me stay at yours tonight, babygirl." He huskily demands - though there's question in his eyes as well.

You pretend to dwell over it but nod ultimately and drop your hands to play with the hair at the base of his neck, the curls damp with some sweat. "You're lucky you're cute."

He laughs cheekily and winks, "I'll make it worth your time?" He smirks and you laugh, hitting his chest weakly and stepping back. "Help me close this up and I'll think about it."

When you're home later he's laying next to you, jeans discarded and leaving him in his underwear and muscle shirt.

There was a lollipop between his lips; courtesy of your strict rule against smoking whenever he was close to you. He had to busy himself otherwise, so this was your solution.

You were snoozing against his shoulder, hair pulled away from your face and neck because it was so unbearably hot. Your window was open and left some of the cooler night air in, causing a pleasant shiver when you wake up.

"You up, sleeping beauty?" He jokes and rubs his thumb over your hip bone, his arm once again around your waist.

Scoffing you yawn and stretch, your shirt riding up a little and revealing a sliver of your stomach. Alone that sight nearly made him feral, the influence you had on him was abnormal.

You lean your head against the wall behind you and sigh again, closing your eyes. "What's on your mind, pretty?" He asks, genuine concern hidden beneath his flirtatious tone.

You decide to leave your eyes closed and take his hand in yours, playing with it to distract yourself. "It's, uh… it's about whatever this," you lift your head and open your eyes gesturing between you and him with your other hand, "is. I- Jesus, you're gonna leave me for this." You chuckle sadly and move away a little, letting his hand fall back into his lap, rubbing both of yours up and down your face.

"Don't think anything is gonna make me leave you. I'm already wasting that much gas on you, as long as you haven't been fucking someone behind my back you won't get rid of me now that I have you, sweetheart." It was jokingly said but he was serious at the same time, hand back on your thigh.

"No, don't- you're making this really hard, y'know?" He grins lazily and cocks his head to the side, looking irresistibly cute with his eyes trained onto yours, waiting for you to explain.

"I…" you're trailing off, nervousness seeping off of you in waves. He calls your name and reaches to lift your head up with a hand on your chin, "I'm serious, just tell me. I promise I won't react badly."

He holds up a hand and stretches out his pinky, "What's that thing you taught me? The special promise thing?" He asks curiously and you chuckle weakly, "Pinky promise." He nods and wraps his pinky around yours, making you giggle.

"Alright, now tell me."

"Uhm, I like you. I know that's not why you're spending time with me and stuff, but I want more. I want to hold your hand and I want to go on actual dates. I want to-"

"-be a couple?" He finishes for you. You gulp and nod hesitantly. He sighs and silence stretches over you for at least a minute until he speaks up. "I'm really bad at this. You know my whole thing is not sticking with someone. I'm not good at commitment. But… I'm ready to try for you. I wouldn't have spent this much time on you if I wouldn't see myself taking you on dates, darling."

You don't really believe him so he assures you again, "Be mine. Be my girlfriend," he pulls you on top of his thighs and with a dreamy grin you lean in to kiss him, enjoying the closeness of your new found boyfriend.

"So, boyfriend. Wanna get your reward for helping me close up the pool?"

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #dacre montgomery #dacre montgomery x reader

149 notes · View notes

hwavsg4ch4n · 2 years

Text

Take Me Away || H.J

little note: only part in the series that doesn't have the same title as the song it's inspired by

Warnings/tags: fem!reader, unexperienced!reader, Switch!Reader (leaning sub), Bestie!Jisung, SoftDom!Jisung, petnames, making out, oral (M&F receiving), female orgasm, male orgasm, face fucking (s0ftly lol), virgin!reader, face grinding/sitting, cum eating, mention of food once, mention of not being able to sleep, unrecognized subspace. i think thats all

Note: I haven't been here for a while *giggles*. This just me picking up from where I left off. Also, late work for Han's Bday I guess. I dont have anything for Lixie :( i feel bad. But honestly, I've been working on this any many other things for monthssss. I hope you guys enjoy!

The music series, I chose songs and assign them to each member. I write each work according to the vibe of said song. Each work will have smut, whether it is soft, hard, or a mixture of the two. You don’t need to listen to the song to enjoy it, the song would finish before you’re done reading but listening to the song in general is recommended, because why not? To learn more click <here>.

Sypnosis: Han is grateful for you being there, he always will be. But will you ever let him take care of you? He's willing to do it any way you'll allow him to.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction (not real). this is mature content and has mature themes. 18+. This is not a reflection of how skz act in real life

this isn't a jeongin one but you did ask to be tagged when i post so here you go, lol @dadonbabysworld

Part of the music series <masterlist>

“One thing I‘m sure about you is that, whatever time of day it may be… you always come rushing to me if my voice wavers even just a little bit.” You blinked as Jisung spoke his mind without thought.

You cleared your throat, “Is that a problem?” You asked softly. He scoffed, shaking his head. “How could that be a problem, Y/n?” He ran a hand through his freshly dried hair, looking at the blushing moon through his shut patio door. Jisung gazed at your confused features through his ruffled bangs before sighing, going back to picking at his chipped black nail polish.

He took a deep breath before speaking, “I just- I’m not sure if I deserve someone like you in my life, that’s all.” It was your turn to scoff, frowning as you watched your best friend fiddle with his thumbs.

You stayed silent, the softest of songs playing quietly through his speaker. It was 1am, his roommates were fast asleep; so were you just 2 hours ago. In the middle of the night, Jisung called you, his voice groggy as he muttered “I can’t sleep.” He was a grown man, he didn’t need you to rock him and sing him a lullaby. But he just wanted to hear your voice, loving how your tone could warm his heart in a millisecond.

He never admitted it out loud, but he was in love with you. Platonically and romantically. At first, he tried to deem it as infatuation, a silly little crush he developed because you were one of the most caring people he’s met in this lifetime. Unfortunately, it was way deeper than that. But he’d never tell you, that would ruin everything.

Therefore he used your kindness in order to see you whenever he could. Granted, this was selfish of him. Waking you up at 12am just because he knew you were too pure to just tell him ‘wait till the morning’. You cared too much, and he loved you for that, loved how you cared for him; along with many other things. He wasn’t that shallow.

The only thing he despised about you, was how you’d never let him take care of you; not properly at least. You always had to pay for food, he wasn’t allowed to. You got him gifts but frowned when he got you one. He accepted your love languages, they were a part of you. But still, it bothered him to no end. Who was taking care of you if you were so busy taking care of him?

“Did you eat dinner, y/n?” He asked you softly, clearing his throat as he swiftly changed the subject. You allowed it, “Mhm,” you muttered, “But it was boring without you there.” You let out with a soft chuckle.

God, why did you have to say that? Jisung’s heart skipped a beat at the image of you eating, pouting since the lack of his presence didn’t allow you to talk to him about nothing like you usually do. “I’m sorry, babe. I’ll be there next time.” Your love languages: quality time, gift-giving, and of course, words of affirmation.

This allowed him to call you pet names without you thinking too much into it. This was one of the ways you allowed him to look after you, making you feel comfortable around him. He’d call you “babe”, “Princess”, your personal favorite was “beautiful”, but you’d never let him know that.

You smiled at the pet name. Silence fell over the two of you, sitting on his soft cushioned king sized bed, bathing in each other’s presence. That’s until you remembered something you discussed with your friends earlier. It was an embarrassing topic to say the least, and the question you had was even more questionable. But it was Jisung, what’s the worst he could say?

“Ji?” You muttered, he hummed back. “You know how I’ve never kissed someone before?” You pouted as he chuckled, softly slapping his bicep. “I’m sorry. Yeah, what about it?” He says, chuckling softly; still gazing at the blushing moon.

You gulped, it was now your turn to start playing with your chipped nail polish. “Why haven’t you offered to kiss me before?” You could see him frown in confusion before turning to you with an unreadable expression. “It's just that, Felix asked me… if you ever offered before. Because we're so close, you know? I’m only comfortable, with you… as of now.” you muttered, awaiting his answer.

“I didn’t think you’d want that from me, Y/n.” He stated, his tone still soft as ever while he searched your eyes for a further explanation. “Well, I think it would be better to kiss you than some random person, no? I mean, I trust you with my life.” You said, slowly becoming timid due to his intense stare.

He nodded, finally understanding your intentions; wanting to experience something you’d probably longed for. And Jisung was the only one that seemed safe. His hair fell into his eyes as you watched him take in your words, looking at you with care. “I wouldn’t mind kissing you, beautiful.” Your lips parted as he smiled at you gently.

“Can you kiss me now?” His brows raised at your sudden request, but he nodded nevertheless. Scooting closer to you as you stayed stationary, awaiting his arrival.

“Don’t be scared, Y/n,” he whispers once he got close enough that your knees were touching, his breath fanning over your cheeks. “Like you said, it’s just me right?” He smiled, showing you his teeth as he found your shy eyes. You nodded, smiling back as your hands absentmindedly fisted his sheets.

“Can I touch you? Is that okay?” He asked gently. “Uhm, touch me how?” Your innocent question shouldn’t have affected Jisung the way it did, his mind traveling to more mature places; having him chant “don’t fuck it up” in his very active mind.

“Your cheeks, can I hold your face?” he whispered, hoping you didn’t notice him growing tense. You muttered yes. A light involuntarily gasp escaped as you felt both his warm hands grab a hold of your hot cheeks. Jisung licked his lips out of habit, catching your gaze as he was now so close that your noses brushed.

His thumb brushed your cheeks soothingly, “Ready?” He whispered, his gaze switching from your eyes to your impatient lips. “Mhm”. He gave one last smile before pressing into your lips with his.

His lips attached themselves to yours like they belonged there all this time. Smooth, sensual, gentle. You could feel your heart beating against your chest as he took his time stroking your cheeks, kissing you deeply. He wanted this to be nice for you, fun. He didn’t want you to overthink and to just feel him instead, get lost in him momentarily. Luckily for him, his message got conveyed. You untensed, kissing Jisung back as you reminded yourself that you were safe. Instead of asking yourself if you were doing it right, the decision was made to get lost in Jisung instead. Completely lost, almost taken away by him.

Did kissing always feel like this? If so you should’ve given into temptation much earlier, asking your best friend for harmless make-out sessions every week if you could. You sighed into him, frowning as you tried to get impossibly closer, wanting more of him on your lips. He chuckled against you, amused but not pulling away as he tilted his head for a better angle, wanting you to have a good first kiss. His lips were soft, it made your brain… fuzzy? A new, unfamiliar feeling that you’ve only heard your friends speak about. However, you accepted the new feeling. What could go wrong?

Undoubtedly, maybe you should’ve hung on to that last bit of sanity you had left. Maybe it was the way Jisung pulled away shortly to say you're doing well, asking you if you were okay. But you knew it was the way he hummed into you, kissing you deeper but going softer at some points; not wanting to get lost in his head. It was… attractive, this kind of attractive where you feel a funny feeling in your tummy. You moved closer, one hand found his knee while the other placed itself on the slither of blanket between the two of you, clenching the fabric for dear life; not that it would help with the sweaty palms and heat pooling in your underwear.

Thank god Jisung was still conscious. Making it his mission to be hyperaware, reading any silent cues you might have given off. Jisung pulled away when he heard you whimper, thinking he might’ve done something wrong, maybe you’ve had enough. Totally oblivious to your roaring thoughts. But his worries soon disappeared as he opened his eyes only to find yours still closed, brows scrunched as you tried to chase his lips, not wanting his warmth to go just yet.

Jisung gulped as your eyes fluttered open, your gaze seeming darker from when he last looked into them. Your pupils were blown out as you looked at him in question. “Why did you stop?” You asked breathlessly. He couldn’t form a proper sentence, not knowing how to answer you. How long have you wanted to be kissed? Did you always want this from him? Him… specifically? That’s how you were acting. Desperate, needy, like you’ve been starved, waiting for him.

He didn’t move away when you abruptly took initiative this time, grabbing his cheeks and pressing your lips onto his, rougher than before. He grunted into you, grabbing your waist to hold you still. You pulled away, only to whisper “more.” Jisung’s eyes widened as you moved to straddle him, kissing him with urgency. Jisung let you do your thing for a while, almost letting himself go brain dead until he remembered, you’ve never experienced something like this.

He pulled away, tapping your lower back as you caught your breath, now looking down at him due to sitting on his lap.

“Slow down Y/n, hm?” He whispered, peering into your dazed eyes. It made his heart pound, you looked like you were drunk on him. “Do you realize where you're sitting right now?” He asked softly. He pressed his lips together as you bit yours, his eyes looking at how plump your lips were; he couldn’t even measure how long you kissed. You nodded slowly, your hands resting on his shoulders.

“I-I don’t wanna have sex,” Jisung stiffened at your comment, his eyes widening as he opened his mouth to talk; you beat him to it “But I want you, in some way.” You whispered, gazing down at him with nothing but need.

Jisung started to understand that lust was taking over your mind, you weren’t thinking clearly. He’s never seen you so… weak. “Y/n, baby,” he takes hold of your face, “I know it feels nice, but think for a moment, hm? I don’t want you to regret anything.” He says seriously.

You resist the urge to whine in frustration, “I can take care of myself Jisung.” You whisper, He sighed, “I know bab-”, “Do you wanna… do want me to… taste you? Can I taste you? I’ve always wanted to.” his lips parted in surprise, hearing his best friends speak in ways he’s never heard before.

You took his silence to explain yourself. “My friend, from uni, she said it’s fun. When you get to feel a guy twitch because of you. The only guy I could think of reacting like that for me… is you. I- I wanna make you cum.” You whispered shyly, your hand bunching the fabric of his shirt.

Jisung felt his member twitch and grow at your words, he knows you felt it because you jolted in his lap. “S-sorry, but when you talk like that… Jesus Y/n, what’s got into you?” He mummers, observing how set in your ways you were. You bit your lip, hands traveling to play with the collar of Jisung’s sleeveless band tee. Jisung began to think - trying his best to ignore how your fingers caressed his bicep - if this was gonna happen, he was gonna make sure to take care of you.

“How about, I taste you instead? How does that sound princess?” Jisung couldn’t help but smile as your eyes widened, pointing at yourself in disbelief. “T-Taste me?” You whispered softly. Jisung hummed, rubbing your thighs that had him caged in. “Mhm, I want you to feel good. It’ll be much more fun for you. If you still want to go down on me afterward, we can try.” He smiled up at you, gently squeezing your hips.

His comforting smile didn’t leave his face as you nodded in agreement. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you y/n?” You slapped his chest softly out of embarrassment. He let out a chuckle before laying down. You looked at him confused, now playing with the hem of your skirt.

“You’re gonna sit on my face, beautiful.”

He grinned at your shocked face. He loved seeing this side of you. So different from your caring nature, always wanting to take care of him to the best of your ability, never letting him be the one to be strong for the both of you. Full 180 from what he’s used to. But if this is the only way you’ll let him pay you back for your kindness, he will gladly do so.

“Uhm… what if.. Uhm,” he watched you stammer with a soft expression, using his hand to continue rubbing at your thigh. “What are you nervous about? Hm?” Jisung asked softly, “What if I like… suffocate you or something?” He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Babe, it would be a pleasure to have your thighs around my head. The only way I can breathe is through you… you have no idea how much I want that right now.” Your eyes widened at his confession, feeling his hands grip your thighs tighter as he bucked his hips slightly; reminding you of how hard he was under you.

“You’re not gonna hurt me, y/n.” You watched his soothing close lipped smile as he guided you closer to his face. You didn’t fight it, only being slightly disappointed by not being seated on his bulge anymore. “Make yourself at home beautiful,” Jisung whispered, licking his lips as you finally hovered over him.

He looked into your eyes as he slid your panties to the side, biting his lip softly and he let out a sigh. “So… wet, from what baby? Kissing?” His chuckle made you gulp, your cheeks heating up as he lowered you onto his face.

“Oh,” you gasp as you feel his lips gently latch onto your bud. You gulped at the new unfamiliar feeling, staring at the wall in front of you as you adjusted slightly. You flinched as he hummed against you, lightly sucking as his hands slid underneath your shirt.

“J-Jisung, it feels kinda… ni-oh.” Your chest heaved as you felt him chuckle, squeezing your clothed breast in response. You felt his lips unlatch from your clit, only to lick a long strip up your slit; the tip of his tongue flicking and pressing against your bundle of nerves, only to start flicking faster.

You let out gasps and whines, your hands pressing on the headboard for leverage as you flinched away from his face. Looking down only to see him looking back up at you with a glistening mouth and dark eyes. “Is it too much, princess?” He asked, his voice raspy. “You can take it, I know you can. Be a good girl for me.” You felt your clit pulse at how he spoke to you like he was in charge, it made the fuzziness deepen. You whimpered, nodding as you lower yourself back onto his awaiting mouth.

This time around you felt wetter than before, his tongue slipping and sliding across your flesh with ease. Feeling his lips suck and tongue flick had you seeing stars, you didn’t even know that you were grinding on his face until you looked down.

“Oh, I-I’m sorr-”, “Keep fucking using me.” Your lips parted at his grumbled words, but you did exactly what he told you to do. Grinding on his face, trying your best not to press too hard. But it was difficult to think with all the different sensations running around your form.

It felt like his lips were everywhere, you began to get lost in the feeling. Your moans grew a bit louder, not that Jisung minded. Maybe his roommates did, but he loved it.

But what made tears start brimming was when you felt his tongue slide into your sopping entrance with ease. “Ji- w-what… fuck.” You whined, your pelvis moving faster against his tongue, no longer caring about how much of a mess you were making. “You’re… so good.” Jisung hummed at the praise you gave him, continuing to make you feel good.

You reached down, your fingers raking through his locks as you pushed him closer into your heat. You haven’t looked down at him in a while, therefore you wouldn’t know that Jisung’s eyes were closed. Letting himself get lost in the taste of you, letting himself be used by you in the best way possible. All the while trying not cum untouched, your moans traveling like waves through his body, right down to his member.

You lurched forward, feeling pressure build up in your tummy, aching to be released. “Ji… I’m- oh…” your mouth parted with your eyes being screwed shut as you came, the climax being strong as it’s the first time you came in the hands of someone else.

Jisung's eyes snapped open to watch you, analyzing how you came undone above him; it was like heaven to him. While trying his best to Ignore how his dick fought against the material of his sweats in order to be relieved. He hummed against you, licking you clean as you slowly came down from your high. At that moment he swore you started glowing.

You gulped dryly, weakly scooting off his face and placing yourself back to the position of straddling, causing him to hiss at the contact of your middle pressing into his bulge.

You felt small under his gaze, now comprehending that your best friend made you cum, the fuzziness weakening slightly. You bit your lip, reaching up to wipe his face that was slathered with your arousal. “Thank you…” you trailed off. You were only met with Jisung bucking into you, making you whimper quietly as he pushed deep into your sensitive area.

You watched with timidness as Jisung chuckled. “That’s enough for today, hm?” You frowned at his words. “No.” He raised an eyebrow lazily. His lips slightly parted as you scooted down to his upper thighs, your hand grabbing his bulge, stroking experimentally.

“Baby… you don’t have to.” He huffed, licking his lips as he watched the movements of your hand, now slowly unbuttoning his pants. “But I wanna.” You muttered. You gulped as you pulled his member out from his boxers, unknowingly licking your lips as you observed how painfully hard he was, lightly twitching at your gentle touch.

“You were just gonna let this go?” You asked, fingers stroking up and down his shaft. “I mean… yeah?” He sighed. His hands clutching your thighs. The fuzziness subsided, the only headspace you found yourself in was pure lust.

Jisung’s gaze was dazed as you lowered, your mouth now hovering over his tip before you looked up in question. “Tell me what to do.” Jisung couldn’t help but smile. Despite you being determined, you were still like a baby deer. His hand stroked your cheek as he told you to open wide, guiding his length between your lips as he grunted at the feeling.

“God, just stay still for a sec, please.” His voice sounded strained, like he was holding back. He was. The combination of you kissing him like he was your oxygen, you expressing to him how bad you’ve been wanting him, from having you use him for pleasure had him aching for release. He didn’t wanna tell you, but he was so sensitive, not having touched himself in a while due to his mind being too focused on other life events.

You tried your hardest to listen, and stay still for him. But feeling his tip pulse on your tongue was borderline torture. You couldn’t help but have your tongue run on the underside of his tip, playing with the small vein that made him suck in a breath. His hand transferred to your hair as he got a good grip.

“Y/n,” he grumbled in warning. Opening his eyes to see your mouth stuffed full of him, the sight making it even harder for him to keep himself tamed. “Start sucking baby.” He whispered, sitting up on the headboard a bit to get a better view of you.

You hollowed out your cheeks, sucking and licking, using your hands to stroke his shaft; remembering how your friends drunkenly taught you how to give oral.

You were too focused to recognize how his grip on your strands tightened, his groans getting louder. The only time you unfocused was when he bucked into your mouth causing you to gag. “O-oh I’m sorry,” he moves your hair out the way, apologizing softly. Your mouth slides off of him, “Use me like how I used you.” Jisung gulped at your words, watching as you continued to stroke his length. What happened to that cute headspace from earlier? Well it’s gone now, he didn’t mind.

“I don’t wanna hurt you princess…” he whispered. “Please Ji… please? I can take it.” His eyes softened as you pleaded. Of course he’ll give you what you want, “God, you’re killing me. I didn’t know you’d be so needy, hm?” he smiles as you whine in embarrassment. “Okay, okay. Be still baby, I’ll be gentle.” Jisung said softly, guiding you back to his dick. He hissed as you engulfed him once again. “If you need a break tap me 3 times, do you understand?” you hummed in approval. Jisung tilted his head, almost like he was preparing himself, trying to give himself a pep talk not to go too hard on your precious throat.

He delivered a cautious thrust, observing how you reacted. His eyes widened as you took more of him down your throat. “Don’t push yourself.” He warned, of course, you ignored him, taking as much as you could of him.

Jisung felt as if he was fighting for his life here. He never thought he’d be able to see you like this. Wanting to please him, but also use him in a way that made you feel fulfilled.

Jisung soon realized that letting you do whatever you want at this moment was exactly how he should take care of you. You’re a big girl. You said it yourself, you can take it. Therefore, he started thrusting into your mouth. He still remained careful, not wanting to overwhelm you. But nevertheless, it felt amazing. Jisung threw his head back onto his pillow, his breath coming out in huffs as all he felt was your warmth sucking him in.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” His mutters went straight to your heat, making you whimper as you felt his member slide in and out of your mouth with ease. The noises emitting from your throat were lewd, and he loved every sound of it. Jisung’s thrusts got a bit rougher, and his moans got louder. You didn’t care that your mascara began to run, it was worth it. The view in front of you was worthy of touching yourself to the memory later. Seeing your best friend's chest rise and fall rapidly as whines and moans filled the air made, Jisung’s hair in his face as his eyes were screwed shut, sweat forming at his temples. This made the experience all the more rewarding.

Jisung gulped dryly as you swallowed around him. “Baby… I’m gonna cum, maybe y-you should g-get,” He could barely finish his sentences as he removed his grip from your hair. “If you don’t want it down your throat, g-get o-off.” Jisung stammered as he stopped thrusting, giving you leeway to get off of him. But you didn’t, instead, you took matters into your own hands. Sucking and stroking as you felt his member twitching on your tongue. “F- y/n…” Jisung gasped for air as he looked down at you, observing how focused you were on making him feel good.

He bit his lip, muttering a warning “Fuck, I’m cumming.” before he finally came, shooting into your mouth as you flinched slightly at the impact. Your friends lied, it tasted like nothing.

You continued to suck, milking him as his cum dribbled out of your mouth and back onto his member. You didn’t even know what overstimulation was but you seemed to be a master at it right now. Jisung’s head fell back as you continued sucking, your tongue tracing the underside of his tip as you wanted to catch every lick of him.

His legs trembled as he grabbed ahold of your hair again, trying to pull you off. “Th-that’s en-ough baby, please.” he pleaded as he slid your mouth off him.

You sat up, straddling his thighs, watching silently as he tried to catch his breath. His cheeks were bright red and his hair tousled from moving around on his pillows.

Jisung let out a scoff, “I thought you never did that before, y/n?” You bit your lip at the subtle compliment. “Even going as far as to overstimulate me. Did you have fun, beautiful?” He asked. You nodded, “Can we do it again?” Jisung chuckled. “Just… give me a second, maybe a couple of hours.”

If it meant making you feel taken care of, he’d do it all night.

#skz imagines #skz smut #skz jisung #stray kids #han jisung #skz scenarios #skz fiction #skz fluff #skz x reader #skz x y/n

221 notes · View notes

theharddeck · 2 years

Text

out of the blue, clear sky (chapter one) // Jake Seresin x Reader

Pairing: hangman x fem!reader (no y/n)

Synopsis: what's a bit of state rivalry between pilots? You and Hangman see each other in a new light after a late night at a dive bar, and this started as a one shot, then suddenly it was 2k words of country karaoke, and now I want to write a fluffy love story

Warnings: 18+, minors please DNI -- this is a 5 chapter deal and this one is pretty PG, but it'll ratchet up to E in a later chapter, and I don't want to mislead anyone. In the interim, there's swearing, but yeah mostly flagging this because something smutty this way comes

Length: 3.2k

A/N: This is self-indulgent to the max, and payoff is late in coming, but I hope y’all enjoy it lol. I regret to inform you that Sold (The Grundy Country Auction Incident) is required listening before reading; it’s just important to note that it’s a fun/funny song, not a sultry one. Jake’s song is “Carried Away” by George Strait, also a delight, but that one is sweet.

tagging the usuals: @peakyrogers@winterrebel04 @blue-aconite and the folks who convinced me to post: @bioodforbiood @et-homephone

chapter one / chapter two / chapter three / chapter four / chapter five

Should you have been out this late, the night before you had drills in this morning? No.

Should you be taking anything anyone said at this hour seriously? No.

Were you all still going to be defensive when Bradley decided to be coastal elitist about something? Absolutely, yes.

“Man, we were having such a good night,” Fanboy muttered, as you, Bob, and Hangman were immediately up in arms.

“You can just say you don’t like when women have feelings, Bradford,” you said. (A grossly reductive accusation, to be sure, but if Rooster was going to generalize, you weren’t going to take the high road.)

Coyote snorted, taking another pull of his beer as Phoenix came back to the table, kicking her feet up on Bob’s lap.

“God, that felt good,” she sighed, holding out a hand and waiting for someone to put a drink into it. “Who’s next?”

“Presumably Hangman,” Bob said, handing her a glass, “to redeem the genre of country music.”

“Nah, I don’t sing,” Jake waved a hand airily, and you knew better than to look at him, but you did anyways.

Normally, you were sober enough to ignore any sorts of feelings that fluttered, unprovoked, in your stomach when you looked at Jake Seresin. He was a pilot like you, you were in the same detachment, it wasn’t going to be something you acted on, you were far from his type anyways…you had a million little rationalizations as to why a crush was impractical, but it persisted nonetheless.

Crushes were inconvenient like that.

This deep into the night, “normally” did not apply.

So you looked at him, sternly reminding yourself to not do anything so dramatic as let your breath catch, or pulse leap.

He didn’t seem nearly as deep in his cups as the rest of the group.

No, of course, he and Phoenix seemed to be the only ones whose eyes were still clear and faces weren’t flushed. In fact, he had the audacity to look as unfairly attractive as he did in the daytime in his uniform, even though you’d all been awake for close to twenty hours now. His blonde hair was mussed, and looked softer than normal, like he’d carded his fingers through it enough that any styling products had relinquished their hold, and it was a damn good look.

You frowned down at your drink, the deep umber liquid not seeming any lower, though you’d been nursing it for half an hour.

“It’s okay,” you said, to distract yourself, more than anything. “Texas doesn’t really count as Country, anyways.”

Mickey tittered, and you felt Jake’s eyes on you, but didn’t trust yourself to look up to meet them.

“Damn straight,” Jake huffed. “Texas was actually–”

“Its own country,” Reuben interrupted, longsuffering.

“For seven whole years,” Bradley continued, “an independent nation all of their own, called…”

“The Republic of Texas,” Javy lifted his glass. “And they were called Texians, actually, not Texans.”

The three of them clinked their glasses together in a cheers, and Jake held up his hands.

“Okay, okay,” he shrugged, nonplussed. “So, I’ve got a lot of state pride, sue me.”

“That’s okay,” Phoenix said, before winking almost imperceptibly at you. “Not like there’s any good country artists from Texas.”

Jake froze. “Okay, now, hang on–”

“Ah, you’re right,” you sighed, grateful for distraction of goading Hangman into singing. “Beyonce took all the musical talent, regardless of genre, and there’s no one left.”

Jake set his bottle down on the table. “That’s bold, coming from someone from Kentucky.”

“I can’t hear you over the sound of Kentucky-born legend Loretta Lynn,” you said calmly.

Jake sputtered. “Loretta–”

“Patty Loveless, too,” Bob said helpfully, and you didn’t know how he knew that, but you were grateful for the WSO’s encyclopedic memory. “And Chris Stapleton, if modern’s your thing.”

Jake gaped at the two of you, then held up a hand to count on his fingers. “Willie Nelson, Garth Brooks, George Strait–”

“Who?” you interrupted, innocently. Your dad had a George Strait cassette he’d played until the tape wore out, but Jake’s eyes widened almost comically.

“Please,” he asked, in the most serious tone you’d heard from him all night, “please, tell me you’re joking.”

Behind him, Reuben had a hand over his mouth, trying not to laugh, and you managed to keep your expression wide-eyed and blank, shrugging lightly.

Jake stared at you for a long moment, then he stood up, sharply.

“Cretins,” Jake declared, pointing at you, then around at the group. “All of you!”

And he huffed his way up to the stage.

Phoenix leaned back in her chair to hold out her hand to you, palm up, which you high fived unashamedly as Jake aggressively flipped through the song book.

He punched a code into the machine on the edge of the stage, then dragged a stool to the middle of the stage.

“Evening, everyone,” he said into a mic, and you rolled your eyes as every female spine in the bar straightened, looking towards the stage. It wasn’t lost on you that he’d turned his accent up, as well as donning an air of “aw, shucks,” humility as he settled onto the barstool.

A couple cat calls echoed around the bar, as contemplative guitar strings plucked over the sound system.

“Notttt what I was expecting,” Coyote said under his breath, and Hangman cleared his throat before he started singing.

“I don’t take my whisky to extremes,” Jake sang, looking pointedly at the group of you, with the near empty bottle on the table, and Rooster flipped him off. “I don’t believe in chasing crazy dreams…”

As his voice ran around the bar, tables fell quiet, turning back to the stage. Hangman’s voice, normally more callous than decadent, seemed softer, and the simple lyrics of the song rang like a promise.

“My feet are planted firmly on the ground,” Jake crooned, and that really was the only word for it, an effortless spell none of you had been expecting, “but darlin’, when you come around…”

“Well shit,” Fanboy muttered to the group as Jake went all-in on the chorus, “how are we supposed to make fun of him when he’s actually good?”

Shit indeed.

Because he sounded like someone sweet who would promise forever to a girl on the way back from a Friday Night football game, someone who'd give you their jacket and get you home by 9pm. Some sound tech was conspiring against you, because they dimmed the lights in the bar, a soft spotlight falling onto Jake. And he should’ve looked worse like that, in the dramatic lighting, but it made his jaw seem sharper, his eyes brighter, and if you listened closely, you could hear the sound of every woman in this bar falling a little in love.

They cheered when he finished the chorus, and Hangman was eating it up, wiping his palms on his jeans, and pushing to his feet.

“This has backfired,” Phoenix mumbled, when Jake hopped off the stage, weaving his way through the tables, starting on the next verse.

“We have created a monster,” you agreed.

“No ‘we’ about it,” Javy muttered. “This is all you guys.”

And you supposed it was.

Jake was making his way over to your table, and you steeled yourself for his arrogance, but were still unprepared.

He smirked as he siddled over to Phoenix, and she rolled her eyes but when he held out a hand, she extended hers, and the rest of the audience squealed when he brushed a kiss over the edges of her knuckles.

You winced internally, why did he have to be so handsome?? He got away with stuff like this, and you couldn’t even be mad at him–

He turned to you.

It had to be the whisky, that’s why you felt the weight of his eyes so heavily. The green of them glittered in the spotlight, and a part of you was loyally muttering “asshole” but another part of you felt like giggling with the rest of the bar.

And then he walked towards you.

“I get carried away by the look, by the light in your eyes,” he sang, holding eye contact in a way that had to be indecent. You needed to look away so you could remember how to breathe, but you couldn’t back down, so you tilted your head and raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed.

Which, of course, he took as a challenge.

“Before I even realize the ride I’m on, baby, I’m long gone,” Jake sang, stepping closer.

He reached for your hand, and if Phoenix could do it, you could too–but he didn’t kiss your hand. No, he lifted it, prompting you to stand and spinning you, like prom. The spotlight had followed him, and you felt it brightening the air around you as he pulled you into it.

“I get carried away, nothing matters, but being with you,” he sang, and instead of letting you wilt back into your seat and out of the light, he dropped your hand around the back of his neck, between the ends of his hair and the top of his shirt, eyes smirking with the challenge, as he continued. “Like a feather flying high up in the sky, on a windy day, I get carried away.”

There was more of the song, you knew that.

But in another, very real sense, you were closer to Hangman than you ever remembered being, close enough to notice his green eyes had flecks of gold in them, and that he had the smallest indentations in the skin along the edges of his eyes, from where his face held the memory of past smiles. And now you knew what his hair felt like between your fingers, and that it wasn’t cologne, he just smelled good.

“I get carried away,” Jake repeated, stepping just a step closer to you, and maybe it made you a coward, but you took a step back. He smirked, victorious, and turned, letting your hand fall back to your side as the spotlight followed him back up to the stage.

Mickey opened his mouth and you glared at him. “Not a word, Fanboy.”

He closed his mouth with a snap, but the rest of the group looked entirely too amused for your comfort.

“Thank you, ladies and gents,” Jake was saying on the stage, dropping into a deep bow and putting the microphone back. “And, uh, Kentucky?”

You looked up at the stage, annoyed to find Jake’s eyes already on you, even through the glare of the spotlight.

“Would love,” he grinned, all teeth, “to see you top that.”

You heard Rooster chuckle, and that, more than anything, had you pushing out of your chair up to the stage.

Jake offered you a hand as you got closer, to help you up the steps and you glowered at him as you took it.

“Thanks, darlin’,” you muttered.

“Anytime, sugar,” he shot back, and you hated that his voice sounded way more unaffected than yours.

You were flipping through the songbook before you realized how impossible this was about to be.

Natasha had already trotted out the ‘fuck all men’ Carrie Underwood play, and Jake had taken the soft and sweet option; you had to do something different. Something in the ‘Chicken Fried’ vein would be funny, but it would also prove Bradley's point; Gretchen Wilson would do the trick, but she wasn’t from Kentucky…

Your eyes fell on a John Michael Montgomery song and you smiled to yourself.

Perfect.

“Hiya, folks,” you said cheerily, going for cutesy rather than borrowing Jake’s bashful routine. A couple girls were glaring at you, having seen Jake serenade you and misinterpreting that familiarity, but you ignored them.

“You’ve got this, babe!” Phoenix called, and you heard Payback and Fanboy clapping loudly.

You gave them a mock curtsy, and waited for the song to pick up.

And boy howdy, did it.

A banjo, loud and proud, curled through the bar and Bob’s eyes lit up, even as Jake’s jaw dropped.

If you could land this, it would be epic.

You heard recognition ripple through the room and someone in the front row started clapping along to the beat. You smiled at them gratefully as the fast tempo whirled around you.

“Well, I went down to the Grundy county auction,” you sang, at an auctioneer’s pace, hopping off the stage and wandering through the crowd like Jake had, “where I saw something I just had to have.”

You’d upped your accent too, and it wasn’t smooth the way Jake’s was, but you knew it didn’t sound half bad in the tenor key.

“My mind told me I should proceed with caution,” you sang, getting closer to your table, and holding out a hand to Natasha, like Jake had, “but my heart said go ahead and place a bid on that.”

She stood, highly amused, and you twirled her into you so her back was pressed against the front of your body. Her hand slid up your legs as she put on a show, loyal like you knew she would be, and you could focus on the rapid fire lyrics as the bar cheered for Nat’s dancing skills.

"And I said, “Hey pretty lady, won't you give me a sign? I'd give anything to make you mine o' mine; I'll do your biddin' and be at your beck and call."

Natasha was laughing, you could feel her upper body shaking but she rolled her hips and you went with her and was Coyote miming throwing money at the two of you, so you leaned into it.

You finished the chorus in a rush, people whooped, the sultry mood Jake had said absolutely decimated by the ridiculous patter.

You spun Phoenix back out and she sank gracefully back into a seat as you walked around the group of your friends, their boots stomping supportively. As you sang the next verse, you avoided looking at Jake, knowing you needed to keep your momentum and circling back to kneel in front of Bob dramatically.

The sweet WSO blushed at the attention, and the bar whooped when you crooked a finger under his chin to tilt his face up to you, before pointing out his ‘ruby red lips, blonde hair, blue eyes’ that matched the line in chorus.

“If you know it, sing along,” you yelled into the mic before pointing it to the ceiling as you weaved your way back to the stage, relieved beyond belief when the rest of the inebriated crowd joined you in singing the last chorus.

It was a mercy, because you needed to breathe.

You stepped back up onto the stage, having caught your breath, and ending the song on a yodel that had everyone laughing. Were they in love with you—no. But they seemed entertained, and you’d take that; you bowed deeply as the bar cheered, blowing a smug kiss at Hangman when you came back up.

Which was a mistake.

Because the look on his face was something you hadn’t expected to see, an expression that wavered between respect and something you didn’t recognize, and you weren’t prepared to find out. A moment later, it was gone, chased away by a dimpled smile and the tipping of an imaginary hat as Jake broke his gaze away from you.

What the hell was that?

You fiddled with the mic, stepping down off the stage and nodding to a couple folks who lifted their drinks as you made your way back to the group. They cheered for you good naturedly, and gave another curtsy as you found your seat.

“Who knew she had pipes?” Payback teased, uncapping a fresh beer and passing it to you.

“Anything for the virtue of the Bluegrass state,” you demured, taking the beer gratefully.

Someone from another group was up on the stage, you heard a phone ring distantly, and the normal din of the bar creeped back in as the adrenaline seeped out of your system.

You were sure you were all going to regret this, in the morning.

Well, most of you.

Natasha still looked fine and Jake…

Jake wasn’t at the table.

You frowned slightly, trying to keep your expression neutral as you leaned forward in your seat, looking around the room to find the Texan. He wasn’t in your row, he wasn’t at the bar getting an order…

Your eyes found him by the bar’s entrance, holding his phone to his head with one hand, the other blocking his ear. He was pacing, and when he turned back towards the group of you, his forehead was wrinkled in an uncharacteristic frown.

His eyes met yours.

For the second time tonight, you read something in his face that you knew you hadn’t been meant to see.

Jake’s jaw tightened and he turned away, pacing again. When he got closer to the door, he reached for it, but a moment later, his hand was back by his ear, blocking out sound as he listened intently. You saw him start for the door again, but each time needed to pull back to listen more closely to whoever was on the other end of the line.

You didn’t plan to head towards him, but your feet had you halfway across the bar before you realized you weren’t in your row. As you got closer, you could feel the tension radiating off of him in waves, even if you couldn’t hear what he was saying.

When you opened the door for him, Jake’s gaze felt searching.

You held the heavy door, pressing yourself against the wall of the bar so Jake could go by. As he edged by you, his eyes flitted back to yours briefly.

“Thank you,” he mouthed, and he waited for your chin to dip in a nod of acknowledgement before he was turning, jogging towards his truck. You watched him struggle with his keys in the dim parking lot light, and then pinch the bridge of his nose as he realized he couldn’t drive, not like this. He turned towards the intersection, waving as a cab came into view.

“What was that about?”

You jumped at the question, surprised to find Bob standing next to you.

“I don’t know,” you said, uncertainly. A cab pulled up to the curb and Jake folded his long body into it, the phone still pressed to his ear.

You realized Bob was holding the door for you, having quietly leaned up against it to take some of the weight so you didn’t have to.

“We should probably head back, right?” you asked, and Bob nodded, slowly.

“Early morning, all that,” he agreed.

You drew in a quick breath, before smiling automatically, following Bob back inside. As you gathered your things, closed at your portion of the tab, and fielded compliments from strangers, you weren’t certain if it was the night air or the expression on Hangman’s face as he’d left so quickly that had you feeling suddenly sober.

Chapter Two

#jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #hangman x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #as always my tag list is v small so if you want to be on/off it lmk #how are we feeling about a chapter fic??? never posted on here instead of ao3 #so that's nervewracking #ahhhh pls tell me if you like it haha #misskielwrites

247 notes · View notes

missmaywemeetagain · 1 year

Text

Broken Glass Chapter 4 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x OC Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis Presley - Elvis (2022)

Read More Here - Broken Glass Masterlist! 💔🥂❤️‍🩹

TW: None really. The Colonel. Some historical inaccuracies.

Tags: Fake relationship. Slow burn. Angst. (Sort of) enemies to lovers. Hurt/Comfort.

Rating: T (but this story will eventually be Mature/NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact) || Word Count: 5k

A/N: Happy Broken Glass Friday, y'all! 💔🥂❤️‍🩹 Thanks for your patience as I get this out later than expected! Chapter 4 hopfully begins to show the awkwardness of two people in forced proximity trying to figure each other out, and as you can imagine, it is not going smoothly lol.

I highly recommend listening to Frank Sinatra's Dolores before/during your reading because...well, you'll see why! And it will definitely come back into play in later chapters...😉 Also, this song was a huge inspiration on naming her Dolores cuz just imagining Elvis singing it to her made me all fluttery inside. ❤️

As always, I love and live for your reactions, comments, asks, and reblogs, so thank you in advance for both reading and giving another one of my stories a chance! Reblogs are super helpful in getting eyes on the story, so extra thanks for those! 🥰

I imagined it with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat.

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch.

I’ve used the tag list from Pink Scarf, and added those who requested it, so please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

Story is cross-posted to my Wattpad and AO3, if you prefer those reading experiences!

The first thing Elvis notices about you when you walk through the door is how even though you are out of uniform, you still carry yourself with an air of helpful confidence, but the second thing he notices is how exhausted you seem, the dark circles around your eyes so pronounced that it’s worrisome.

And the third thing, well, it’s something he recognizes in himself: a tinge of resignation, as though something terrible has happened but you are moving forward anyhow. But there is something haunted behind all of it. He doesn’t know you, not yet, but it’s like some of the fire that had colored your personality that first night you met has dimmed. Like someone has tried to extinguish you in some way.

He prays it’s not him who has done this. He knows this situation is unusual and he understands completely why you might be apprehensive. In fact, he still can’t believe you said yes to this at all. When the Colonel had come back so quickly yesterday with your answer, Elvis was sure he’d heard wrong. Even Colonel seemed surprised.

But here you are.

Elvis brings himself to standing, both because there’s a lady that’s entered the room and he’s nothing but a good Southern gentleman, but also to prove to himself that he can stand on his own two feet. He’s got to if he’s gonna pull this off. His olive green uniform hangs half done on him, and at least he managed the pants and undershirt himself before you entered, though it nearly knocked the wind out of him.

He already can sense you’re gonna be a tough nut to crack because he’s intuitive about things like that and if there’s one thing he knows besides music, it’s women. You’re wound tight as a drum. He can see it in your countenance, in the carefully guarded way you take him in. He’s got his work cut out for him.

The air in the room is thick with tension, the silence pregnant with awkwardness.

Starting to button up his shirt, he shoots you a coy look. “You don’t gotta be nervous, little bird. I don’t bite…unless you want me to,” Elvis says, a smile spreading, pouring on the charm, hoping it might help ease the friction in the air.

And it does. He can see the way you bite your tongue, the way you stop yourself from rolling your eyes at him. There’s that fire.

“Look, sir, I…I know this is an unusual situation, but we’re going to need some ground rules. First being that you stop calling me ‘little bird,’” you huff.

“Well, I can’t very well call ya Nurse Cannava, now can I? Not with us needing to be so secret and all that. Not when you’re supposed t’be my girl,” he replies with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “And you definitely can’t be callin’ me ‘sir,’ so we’re both gonna have to adjust, ain’t we?”

You’re cute as you flounder for a retort, your cheeks flushing the slightest bit. He can tell you are struggling to be professional, but he knows that’s no good, not with how close you two will need to get to make this thing work.

Finally, you relent, after an inner struggle that reads clearly on your face. He can tell you hate that he’s right.

“I suppose so…Elvis,” you say through gritted teeth.

He chuckles at that, which too quickly turns to coughing and wheezing, forcing him to sit back on the edge of the bed.

“Oh, enough of that now,” you say in a much gentler tone, walking over to him purposefully and handing him the oxygen mask hanging near the bed. He watches the switch flip in you as you move into caretaker mode. It’s fascinating how your annoyance with him fades so fast, your face softening, just as it did the other night. If he wasn’t so frustrated by his body rebelling against him, pushing down the panic of how the hell he’s going to sell that he’s healthy as a horse in a matter of hours, he’d dwell on it longer.

Yet the more his emotions start to run away with him, the calmer you seem to become, standing near him watchfully, adjusting the flow of air. After what seems like an eternity holding the mask to his face, his can finally feel the air enter his lungs again, less encumbered. His hand grips the mattress for a moment, and he pulls the mask away. Then, almost angrily, he attempts to finish buttoning his shirt, but his damn hands are shaking too badly.

“Here, let me,” you say, swatting away his hands. His heart was already beating too fast, but now it picks up for a completely different reason as you stand so close in front of him, deftly doing up the rest of the buttons.

Rose water and jasmine, he thinks, taking in your scent for the first time. This coupled with suddenly being up close and personal with your ample figure has him gulping and trying not to let his gaze linger on your bust at his eyeline. He looks up at you through his lashes instead, seeing a concentrated stare on your striking face. You’re completely focused on doing up his shirt, which is such an intimate thing, really, yet you are unselfconscious in your need to assist him.

His fingers curl into his thighs, fighting the impulse to wrap his arms around you to pull you closer, to bury himself comfortingly into your supple body. It’s not new, this deep need he has for physical contact with women, and it’s not entirely sexual, but with the emotional toil of the last few days, the urge is great. Tensing, it takes everything in him not to do something stupid and embarrass himself. Unlike lots of other girls, he doesn’t think you’d be welcoming of the embrace whatsoever.

Elvis blinks away his baser desires and finally finds his voice. “What’s your name, honey? Gotta call you somethin’,” he says quietly, clearing his throat.

You freeze on the final button, the one at the base of his neck, then look down into his eyes. It feels quite vulnerable, this moment, with you so close and your eyes searching his, as if deciding how far to let him in, how far to trust him. And he gets the sense you don’t trust easily. Perhaps it’s the way your guard slips from your icy eyes just for a millisecond, how they soften in the slightest, and he feels a hesitant shift.

“It’s Dolores,” you say softly, doing up the last button.

Because his mind is made of music, instantly he remembers Frank Sinatra’s love song of the same name. It’s too perfect, really. He can’t help himself as he croons out the beginning of the song:

How I love my kisses of Dolores.

Aye aye aye! Dolores.

The way your eyes widen and then roll with exasperation amuses him, but it’s the how your cheeks go pink that really tickles him.

Not Marie or Emily or Doris.

Only my Dolores.

“Of course. Of course, you know that silly song,” you say, shaking your head as you step back.

“Silly song?! Naw, it’s a wonder,” Elvis replies, smiling wide, enjoying every second of your embarrassment. “And now I know how to call ya when I need ya…just a loud, ‘Aye aye aye! Dolores!’”

“Oh, don’t you dare!” you say through gritted teeth.

He continues, being campy with it, just to really drive it home:

I was made to serenade Dolores

Chorus after chorus!

“I swear, Elvis, you—” you start.

But he’s on a roll now, interrupting you. “You swear?! Now that ain’t very ladylike or professional,” he teases. “Hand me that tie, now will ya, Dolores?” He sings the last bit just to bug you even more.

You glare at him, eyes blazing, and he can tell that you want to strangle him with the tie. Biting your tongue, you set your mouth in a line and settle for throwing the tie in his general direction instead.

“What, you ain’t gonna help me?” he says in faux surprise, quirking a brow. He grabs the tie from where it landed on the end of the bed.

“You can do it yourself,” you snap.

“But what if I can’t?” he nudges, batting his eyes at you as he puts it around his neck.

“Oh, Madone, I wasn’t hired to be your dresser. It’s a bit beneath my skillset,” you throw back at him.

He chooses not to mention how you were just doing up the buttons on his shirt not a minute ago. But you read it on his face, nevertheless.

“Ooh, you’re incorrigible!”

“And you’re cute when you’re angry.” It just slips out, really it does, but it’s the truth. And now you are completely flushed, which sends a different sort of thrill through him.

Your mouth opens, then closes again, like a fish out of water. He thinks that’s pretty cute, too, how he’s managed to fluster you speechless in such a short amount of time.

But then your body language shifts in such a way that he suddenly thinks he may have taken it too far. You look at him with wide eyes, like you want to bolt out the door and never look back.

Elvis softens instantly. He can’t afford to have you running off because he needs you. They won’t let him out of this damn hospital without you by his side.

He holds up his hands in surrender. “Okay, I’ll stop, I’ll stop.”

You take a long, deep breath that seems to quell your urge to flee. Silence fills the room again. A wave of uncertainty, of fear, crashes over him.

“I-I-I’m sorry, I just…I guess I’m still tryin’ to wrap my head around all this. I don’t mean to upset ya, I was just havin’ a little fun is all. Please don’t go,” Elvis says quietly, in a moment of unbridled honesty.

Blinking at him, as if surprised by his change in demeanor, you consider his words. Your wide mouth softens from the hardened line it was and he can’t help but wonder what you look like when you smile. His guess is that it’s stunning and he silently vows to make it happen sometime in the future.

Finally, your body relaxes a bit. “Call me Lori,” you say.

“Okay, Lori,” he repeats softly, conceding.

You bite your lip, then shift from one foot to the other, as if mulling over whether to say something. He just waits. Finally, you speak, “I know you’re going through a lot, Elvis. But to be completely honest, this…I might be in over my head here. I don’t really know what to expect. But I’m not a fawning acolyte and I do have a job to do. So please let me do it.”

All business, Elvis thinks with a smile. It’s been a while since a woman hasn’t fallen immediately at his feet. Perhaps this is God’s way of continuing to knock his ego down a peg or two, though for him, it just feels like a challenge.

He likes you a little too much already. You’re obviously more than just a pretty face. In fact, in what very little time he’s spent with you, it’s clear you are intelligent and caring but also feisty and stubborn. Plus, that guarded look in your eye makes him curious about what makes Dolores Cannava tick. Something in him itches to know you. But he’s not quite sure how far he can push you yet and acquiescing for the time being seems his best bet at getting you to stay.

So, he nods. He ties his tie. And you grab his uniform jacket to hold out for him. An olive branch, of sorts. He takes a deep breath and stands, a little unsteadily, but you are right there to help, holding his jacket as he slips into it. Once again, it feels more intimate than it should, especially when you straighten his jacket and his tie, fixing him like a lover might. He takes in another breath of you, of that lovely rose and jasmine scent in your deep chocolate hair, noticing the undertones of copper threaded through the dark strands now that he’s standing.

When you step back to examine him and your eyes widen in the slightest, taking him in while he wears his uniform, he knows you find him attractive, no matter how quickly you blink the idea away. He knows he looks good in this uniform, which is why he’s wearing it to the press conference at Fort Dix. But despite your now-neutral gaze, that quick look on your face coupled with his newfound impulse to be physically connected to you makes him wonder how in the hell he is going to remain professional with you.

Elvis clears his throat again and turns away from you to the bathroom, leaving the door open. His hair is a mess, so he begins sculpting it in a well-practiced routine. It’s the longest it’s been since he was drafted, but still not quite the coiffed pompadour of his pre-army youth. The back is shorter and so are his sideburns, but the sides and the top give him enough length to comb it precisely where he wants it. He doesn’t go too heavy on the Brylcreem, wanting the look to appear more natural.

There’s a fine line he knows he’s skating here, between a more polished adult look and the rebellious one he is famous for. He’s an All-American boy—no, man—now and must look as such, to please his aging audience. As much as he doesn’t love it, he knows his natural hair helps, not quite the sandy blonde of his teenage years, but more of a light chestnut, that little strip of gold in the front reminding him he is indeed a natural blonde. It’s darker than it used to be, at least, but lighter than he likes. But for today, it’ll serve its purpose.

He catches your eye in the mirror briefly as you watch his routine carefully, arms crossed with an air of scrutiny. You do not look away like he expects you to, however, and he holds your eyes for a moment before going back to making himself look halfway decent. Luckily for him, even at halfway decent he still looks pretty good, but if it will be enough to satisfy the throngs of reporters waiting for him, he does not know.

Rummaging in his leather kit, he finds the new mascara he had Elisabeth purchase for him in Germany. He darkens his long lashes carefully, not in the heavy-handed way of his youth, but just enough to make his naturally lighter lashes curl and pop on camera.

“Huh.” He hears your surprised reaction from behind him. He’s betting you’ve never seen a man wear makeup before.

“Come on, honey, this is show business. Can’t let the ladies have all the fun,” he winks at you.

He thinks he sees a possible twinkle of amusement in your eyes, but it is gone in a flash, replaced by your stoic and careful gaze so fast he’s unsure it was ever there at all. You turn away, walking back into the room and leaving him to his primping.

He shakes his head. Oh, Lord, I have my work cut out for me.

Despite the lingering exhaustion that hasn’t faded even with days of rest, Elvis’ leg vibrates with unspent nervous energy. It’s always been this way, the way his limbs go buzzing and tapping and wiggling beyond his control. Somehow, he managed to make a career out of it, which never ceases to amaze him.

But the little white pill you administered on the way out the door of the hospital is helping to keep the fatigue from dragging him completely under. Only one, you’d said, which had made him a little wary because he’d been popping the things like candy overseas and he wasn’t sure one was gonna do much at all. But having been off them in the hospital seems to have lowered his tolerance a bit because he can feel the familiar wave of clarity and alertness cut through the ever-present need to close his eyes.

After two long hours of staring out the car window at the snowy landscape on the way to Ft. Dix, you finally look at him—well, you look down at his leg as it brushes against yours, since he’s managed to spread his legs over almost the entirety of the backseat, and he forces himself to reel it in and stop the unconscious bouncing.

Elvis tries not to be perturbed that you’ve barely given him the time of day since getting in the limo. He thought that you two would spend the trip getting to know each other better, but his charms didn’t get him much past small talk in those first minutes getting out of the city. You fell into silence and made yourself small, curling close to the door, as far from him as possible.

Thank God for the Colonel and Lamar sitting opposite, who were equally baffled by your behavior when they received only short, clipped answers to their questions. The men finally gave up trying to include you and were at least able to contribute some conversation to the long drive.

Lamar’s confusion is evident, however, as he thinks you’ve dropped everything to be with Elvis because you’ve fallen head over heels for him, not because you are there to tend to him, and God knows you’re not acting like a little girl in love. Elvis just shrugs off the questioning looks as if to say, “Who knows what women are thinking?”

Meanwhile, you seem quite preoccupied up there in your head, wheels turning, an inner voice he’s not privy to whirring away. He’s noticed that you don’t seem particularly sad about leaving New York, only pensive and withdrawn. Considering that you are upending your life to come work for him, he supposes it makes sense. You’re likely just nervous, though it’s not in the way he expects. He’s not unaccustomed to the strange reactions of women to his presence, but it’s quite obvious that is not your problem. In fact, you barely seem to register his presence at all.

It bothers him more than he likes.

But nerves are funny things, he reminds himself, and it takes time to adjust to something new. The way your hands white knuckled your purse and your shoulders were nearly up to your ears when you stepped into the limo outside Bellevue have at least dissipated into something more relaxed. Definitely not relaxed relaxed, as he has noticed your natural state seems to be just this side of well-masked anxiety, but the latent worry in your eyes has drained away some, and they have stopped shifting to your surroundings quite so diligently.

And now you are looking at him in a way he can’t read.

“You ever been to a press conference before, honey?” he asks, breaking the silence as the car approaches the base.

He watches you bristle a bit at the pet name. “Can’t say that I have,” is all you give him.

“Well, there’s gonna be lots of shouting questions and flashbulbs, so don’t be alarmed. But they most likely won’t be payin’ too much attention to ya anyway.”

Your eyes widen with realization. “They—they won’t be asking me questions, will they?” For the first time, he sees true panic dart in your eyes, as if you’ve just realized the situation you’ve put yourself in.

He chuckles softly. “When we get out of the car, they’ll probably ask some, but you don’t need to answer. Just ignore them and let me or the Colonel take care of the rest.” He pats your knee in what he thinks is a comforting gesture, but you nearly jump out of your skin at the contact. He pulls back right away.

We’re gonna need to work on that, he thinks. But it’s too late to talk about it now, as the car finally pulls through the gates of the base and into the throng of waiting press corps.

“Are you nervous?” you ask suddenly.

“About them? Naw, not really. I’m used to it, though I guess sometimes I stutter a bit cuz it gives me time to think of answers. Today, I’m more worried about staying upright and breathing than anything,” he mumbles, leg back to jittering.

“Well, that’s what I’m here for,” you say softly enough that the men across from you can’t hear, “but from what I’ve seen the last few days, I have no doubt you can do this. Just focus on those deep breaths, like I showed you.”

Elvis is pleasantly surprised by the relief he feels at your surprisingly gentle words, though he’s not sure if it’s the words themselves or the fact that your caretaking mode is so comforting compared to your usually well-guarded exterior.

The car comes to a stop, and the press advance through the swirling snow, held back by well-trained MPs. That’s when he hears your shuddering breath and sees the swell of alarm in your bright eyes.

“Stick with me, kid, and you’ll be fine,” he says, winking, plastering a press-dazzling smile over his features. Then, he grabs your cold little hand and pulls you out of the car with him.

Elvis Presley was born for this.

He reminds himself of it again and again, every time the blinding flashes of the cameras make him want to wince from the pain in his head. He reminds himself of this as he forces himself to slow down and catch his breath, so he doesn’t start wheezing in front of all these microphones.

“Elvis, there are rumors that you’ve been unwell since your homecoming was delayed. Can you speak to that?” The question comes right away, and luckily he’s rehearsed it in his head a million times, so it comes out as endearing as possible.

“Well, you see, I was stricken with a bout of tonsilitis on the trip back and then made the dumb mistake of standing up in the plane when there was turbulence. Won’t be doin’ that again, sir, I tell you for sure!” he laughs, rubbing the back of his head in an exaggerated manner, a bashful look on his face. “Nothin’ but a little fever coupled with a big ole’ bump on the head. Everyone just wanted to be more safe than sorry.”

The press corps laughs along with him and seems to take his explanation at face value. Truly, none of it is a lie—only an omission—but for that he is grateful because it falls off his tongue easily. Everyone moves on quickly, asking him about Army life and what’s next for him.

He tries not to look over to you in the wings, as he is under such scrutiny, but he knows you must be overwhelmed. He forgets sometimes how intense the press and fans can be, and he is aware this is only the beginning for you. Also, focusing on you is keeping him from focusing too much on the fact that he’s a little afraid to stand up by himself in front of all these people and cameras.

He endures the rest of the interview with as much grace and humor as he can. He enjoys the few ladies who surround him asking for autographs, including the woman who slyly slips her number into his breast pocket right in front of the camera. He admits he’s impressed with her fearlessness. And he certainly doesn’t mind sidling up to a pretty, young Nancy Sinatra who gives him a gift from her father as the press take their pictures, even though he feels a bit wobbly on his feet.

But through the lingering fear of being exposed or embarrassing himself, he’s also excited. He’s back. And a huge part of him loves this, sucking it up like oxygen. He can’t understand the stars who are dismissive of their fans. His fans have given him his blessed life, and they’ve been waiting for so long for him to come back to them.

Certainly he can’t let a little thing like dying get in the way of who he needs to be for them.

So, Elvis smiles his megawatt Hollywood smile. Posing for pictures, he laughs and winks and autographs his way through the crowd. And he lets the high of adoration carry him because it starts to feel like he’s under water, where it’s hard to breathe and his vision starts to swim and suddenly, he can’t quite feel his feet anymore.

Then a somewhat familiar cold little hand slips into his and squeezes. He looks down into your intelligent eyes and wonders how in the hell you made it through the crowd to him, how in the hell you knew he needed you to steady him without him knowing it himself until this very moment. You breathe through your nose as obviously as you can without taking your eyes from his, prompting him to remember to stop and breathe. And he does, trying to fill his traitorous lungs with air, and you resolutely guide him away from the throng as the MP’s hold back the crowd.

He can’t take his eyes off the back of your head; you’re the lighthouse in the darkness, guiding him away from the rocks.

You don’t let go until you’re all back in the car. It’s only then that he seems to awaken from whatever spell he was under that was keeping him upright, finally collapsing onto the seat next to you. You wait until the car has pulled away and the press is behind you to put your fingers to his neck and your wrist to his sweaty brow. His eyes flutter closed at the comfort of your touch, reminding him of the way his mama would tut over him when he was sick.

His heart pounds with overuse, which is frustratingly stupid enough that he wants to shove his fist through the damn window, but he’s got no energy to do so. Instead, he keeps his eyes shut and lets his head loll back on the seat as you tend to him, murmuring words he doesn’t absorb.

It really hits him then, just how fucking hard this is going to be, this battling his weak body to continue the life he needs to lead. Despair washes over him.

Please, God. Please just let me live. Let me do what I need to do to support my family and please my fans. Please give me the strength to get through this.

He drifts off then, singing spirituals in his head because he hasn’t the energy to get them out of his mouth.

“…vis. Elvis. Elvis, wake up. We’re almost to the train station.” Your voice cuts through the exhaustion and the prayers. He lifts his head, blinking suddenly against the light, coming back into himself. Your face appears first, your brow furrowed with a concern that he thinks you’re trying not to show. He presses his pointer finger to the folds above your nose and between your eyes.

“Relax, little Lo. You’re gonna give your pretty face wrinkles if ya keep on like that,” he drawls sleepily at you.

Your eyes narrow and you swat his hand away. “My face is just fine, thank you very much,” you snap back at him, though you let the new nickname slide. He hears the little huff of air through your nose as you cross your arms and look out the window, obviously annoyed at him once again.

He can’t help but chortle a little. It’s gonna take a mountain of work to get anyone to believe that you even like him, much less that you are swooning with love for him.

“It looks like we have a particularly large crowd to get through to get on that train,” you say tersely, but then that gentle thing you do—the one where you suddenly care about him—cuts through your annoyance. “Are you going to be able to—”

“I can do it,” he retorts, harshly. There’s something suddenly maddening about the way you seem to shut on and off regarding him, and when he’s feeling better, it doesn’t bother him much, but right now it just feels fucking confusing because it’s taking everything in him to rally to get onto that waiting train. And with the way his head is swimming, he’s not so sure he’s gonna make it without some divine intervention.

You sigh, a soft, pliant sound that slides down his spine and settles in his belly, pulling his attention back to your profile as you take in the looming crowd from afar. That thing in you clicks into place again, and when you turn your head, your face is calm and poised.

“I know you want to do this, Elvis,” you start, then seem to mull over how best to continue, and realizing you need to be discreet, you lean close to him to whisper, “but remember not to push it. My job is to help you stay well, and I’m telling you today is not the day to stop and sign every autograph.”

Oh, how badly he wants to argue with you, to insist that he can do it all, that he’s fine, dammnit, but his body feels heavy and his brain swimmy and Lord help him, he just needs to get from point A to point B without being a fool.

“But the fans have been waitin’ so long t’see me��” he trails off, both the sound and the excuse thin.

You consider him for a moment before speaking. He is distracted by you being so close, the scent of you filling his nostrils again, sending his heart galloping.

“Live to fight another day, Elvis.” Then you pull back, a sad, small smile on your pursed lips.

You’re right. He knows you’re right but he’s not happy about it.

He’s also not entirely sure how to feel about the fact that when he clasps your hand in his to pull you out of the limo and towards the train, something about it feels oddly settling.

It’s as if it is supposed to be there, your smaller hand wrapped in his. This strange thought, along with the racing of his heart, pushes him forward—away from the Army and firmly back into the life of Elvis Presley, superstar.

Reblogs, likes, comments, tips + feedback are extremely appreciated! Please help support your content creators!

Taglist:

@atombombbibunny @yesimwriting @uselessbutinteresting @mirandastuckinthe80s @dark-as-love

@domaniquessidehoe @im-lame-irl @allybrooke05 @hangmanswhore

@jazmin2211 @kvcssghbjbcd @coldonexx @dudinhahoff @whatstruthgottodowithit @tiredbuthappy @amiets2 @saintmagx

@kvcssghbjbcd @butlersluvbot @babydollie43 @vainbimbo @meladollsims @wstelandbaby @dre6ming @normatural @ash-omalley @xcallmetaniax @galvz-42 @thejezebel @fullmetal-falcon @robinismywife @dre6ming @seaweedbrain00 @amiets2 @mslizziesblog @heisatroubleinapinksuit @calusussss @dont-feel-so-good-peter @rainydayz101 @pizzaisrelationshipgoals

@liaaacantwrite @kittenlittle24 @kaitaesupremacy @butler-trouble @eliseinmemphis @russian-soft-bitch @tattywood

@sassanoe @re3kin @thella @suspiciousmidge @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle @carolinesbookworld @juggernort @aesthetic-lyss @stitchattacks @donnamarie23 @ab4eva

@fic-over-cannon @lacyluver @littlebitofgreen @paigevis @godlypresley @bugg06 @xhannahbananax03 @artlover8992

@18lkpeters @frozenhuntress67 @girlblogger2002 @kendralavon7 @elvisgf @misspresley

97 notes · View notes

revasserium · 25 days

Text

people I'd like to get to know better

thank u for tagging me @bby-deerling <3 it was so fun reading all ur answers and i def wanna get to know u better too!!! i just... haven't been online as much lately (っ◞‸◟ c)

Last song: ???

so. actually. i don't RLY listen to music much on a daily (or even weekly??) basis if at all??? I KNO. it's wild. bc i mainly listen to audiobooks/podcasts when i'm commuting or just like chilling doing chores. my latest audiobook was actually an audible original drama called henrietta & eleanor which was a modern retelling of the og classic jekyll and hyde by robert louis stevenson. i hope??? that kinda sorta counts???

Favorite color: pink!!!!!!

what can i say? im a barbie/disney princess girlie at heart. and also physically -- everything i own is pink. i have 4 custom keyboards and they are all pink

Last Movie: the boy and the heron

my bf and i actually went to see this in theaters when it came out in nyc! super amazing, highly recommend; i've a deep love of animated films, from ghibli to pixar and everything in between so !!!

Sweet/Spicy/Savoury: spicy/savory

i love spicy food. i love hot cheetos, i love anything that makes my whole face feel like it's going to melt off... well, my face.

Relationship Status: happily taken <3

my bf and i are actually closing in on our 3yr anniversary! i feel very lucky to have snagged possibly the last good man in all of nyc sdlkfjsdslskdf he cooks, he's supportive, he runs me baths when i tell him im stressed, he brings me wine when im sitting in those baths lol, he indulges in all my weird hobbies; i constantly am like AM I DOING ENOUGH IN RETURN??? but he assures me that i am <3 this is the first bf i've ever had in my life, and honestly hopefully the last! i consider myself very very lucky to have found someone i love so deeply. but also, i was never interested in dating until i met him so... i guess sometimes the hallmark movies do get it right!

Last thing I googled: french linen duvet cover

im trying to live my dreams of having a fully french-linen bed set; so far, i've got the fitted sheet and pillow cases. i just need the duvet cover !!! but sweet baby jesus french linen is EXPENSIVE.

Current Obsession: handmade press-on nails

OKAY listen;;; there was a stand in ktown in nyc that had them and i passed by and got some on a whim??? they kinda slap???? like i don't have to pay 100+ dollars to get single color gels done at a salon, and have sUPER cute designs!!! i think u can get them on etsy too but im in love !!!

tagging: @violettduchess @skiagrafia @dira333 @jamesbparker

#🌧 raindrops #thanks again for the tag bby!!! this was so much fun #im sry for rambling on about how much i love my bf but -- actually no im not sry u__u he deserves all my love and affection #literally i never get tired of talking about how we met HAHAHAH it was a WHIRLWIND summer romance story

9 notes · View notes

rockingtheorange · 3 months

Text

Get to know me!

Last song: Enemigos - Sebastian Llosa 🎶

Last film: Ron's gone wrong🤖😆

Currently reading: Wolfs-kinder by Vera Buck (a Christmas present)

Currently watching: Last Twilight (GMMTV series) / Percy Jackson (Disney series)

Currently consuming: pasta :)

Currently craving: corn cocktails I had in Mexico😣

Were you named after anyone?

As far as I know no, in Italian my name means happiness/joy. But the name I chose for myself is named after the ocean ☺ (Talay means ocean/sea in Thai)

When was the last time you cried?

I've been crying at night, before sleeping. I spent a month with my girlfriend and going back to long distance on the other side of the planet hit me harder than a truck🧸

Do you have kids?

Nope, and I don't plan on having them. I'm already struggling managing myself lol

What sports do you play/have you played?

Many when I was little: swimming, tennis, basketball... my parents wanted their children to try many things but I've always been artisty and I stuck to ballet for 5 years, then paused it for a few and came back for another 2/3 years. Then I went for theater ☺🤸

Do you use sarcasm?

Me? No. I don't use sarcasm, I AM sarcasm. But depends on the language I'm speaking honestly (different language - different personality is a real thing lol)

What's the first thing people notice about you?

I've absolutely no idea, but for some reason they always get my vibe wrong. People think I'm cold and quiet but if they earn my trust, I'm very warm and love physical touch

What's your eye color?

Brownish? Idk people have told me they look orange at times (???) or green under direct sunlight 😃 Let's say a light brown? copper maybe???🤭

Scary movies or happy endings?

I like both. Depends on my mood. (One of my fav series is scary with sad ending and all my fav movies are happy endings)

Any talents?

Some would say many, others would say none. I'd say I try my best in everything I do and talent is often a misused concept that only appreciates something you were born with instead of what you've worked hard on (even worse if people call talent the skill you've spend time and tears on)

Where were you born?

Milan 🙂 (fun fact I was kinda ☠ing and doctors had to remove my right kidney cause I had a tumor. All fine ever since tho☺👍)

What are your hobbies?

Many, I mostly make my hobbies collide with my growth in knowledge and working opportunities. Everything from writing, watching videos, playing videogames, listening to music, spending time in nature...

Do you have any pets?

2 meows 🐱🐱

How tall are you?

Shmall! I'm always the smallest one🥲 1,60 m 🤏

Favorite subject in school?

Def art class when I was little, then maybe math cause it has always been very easy for me. (But I used to love a subject depending on the topic and my own willingness to study it lol)

Dream job?

I'm trying to get a job as a 3D animator but it's hard. I just want to work in the cinema industry honestly 🥺 maybe travel from time to time...

A bit late but thank you @meraki-yao for the tag, you're always lovely ☺❤

Tagging someone that I hope hasn't done it yet: @manic-pixie-fever-dream @mylucayathoughts @couldvebeenus @onpurposeilovehimonpurpose

9 notes · View notes

melit0n · 4 months

Note

I read ur tags about the new ST masks and honestly, I agree, it's very different (very Slipknot and gore-ish) and right now, the discography and overall vibe doesn't match(like a handful of songs have a true metal quality to it) and unless they're gonna start releasing new stuff the vibes kind of...clash? And so far Vessel is the same, so I'm wondering if the others just wanted to stand out more and were given creative freedom or if everything is going to shift at some point :/ I also think its a bit been there done that (but the simpler black and gold mask I like) the others remind me of the Joker or a Shrunken Head

Thank you for the ask anon! To be honest, I saw 'I read it tags about the new ST mask...' and I panicked thinking I was about to get left-right-goodnighted in an ask, but I'm glad it wasn't so, lol.

Further, I'm glad someone agrees with me. I said what I said in my tags on twt and within the hour I had 20+ people in my replies quote tweeting me saying how I 'wasn't a proper fan for not liking the change', how I 'should leave and stop listening if I was going to be negative', and (my personal favourite because it was so absurd) 'you're so one of the people that found them through TikTok. Good to have a cleanse of the fandom if you were only here because you have a mask kink'.

Even had someone tell me to off myself! Which was, y'know, lovely. I don't have any screenshots because I was just sat there trying to figure out how to reply to them, then saw the one that told me to off myself and just had a little overwhelmed cry and deleted the tweet, in which I then got tagged in a now deleted tweet calling me a pussy. You are so loved my ass.

I deleted it because it made me feel really shit about myself (for obvious reasons), but it made me feel more shit when I woke up the next day seeing people say the same things I did (like hoping it was only a Wembly thing, but considering the amount of detail and effort that's been put into those outfits and masks, I think not), and getting nothing but acceptance and neutrality in the replies. I'm not particularly popular on twt since people are fond of copy and pasting my post about Euclid, not giving credits, blocking me when I ask them to, and when their mutuals see that I'm blocked by them they just have at me for no reason, but I think it says a lot about a fandom if they can go from getting everyone to hold up a three for iii at the concerts out of pure adoration to telling someone to off themselves because they don't like the new designs. (sorry for the rant about twt anon)

I'll repeat what I said in my tags; they feel very out of place to me. Again, maybe it's just the fact I'm used to the balaclavas since I've been around here for a while, so all I've really known is Vessel's custom mask and the collective of balaclavas, but they just don't match. They stick out more than Vessel does, both design and colour pallet wise. Vessel is in full black with white accents and a white, red and gold mask, the Esperas are in full black with white accents and a red mask. And then the guys are there, y'know? Don't get me wrong, the amount of detail and effort that's been put into the designs are amazing, and they definitely have to have given each member creative freedom because each mask and design matches the lad's vibe immaculately (especially iii's), but it doesn't match Sleep Token's vibe as a collective. I like IV's design best because his matches his stage presence and ST's vibe (as you said, the simpler gold and black mask), as well as ii's (minus the hair).

I think maybe the hair on ii's and iii's masks in general are throwing me off lol.

Furthermore, Sleep Token's only full on trad metal songs are Gods from Sundowning and Vore from TMBTE, so I got really surprised when I was basically looking at Slipknot masks curated for Sleep Token. ST are known to genre bend constantly, so maybe we will get new stuff. But, considering they've had the same vibe in their music since 2016, I'd be a bit surprised if their new single/new album was just all trad metal, or at least has a lot of aspects of it, but who knows! Maybe change for them is inevitable.

I think it's well known on this blog that the passing of time and change in literally anything is my mortal enemy so seeing this kind of randomly happen gave me whiplash. I don't think I can love the new designs as much as I loved the old balaclavas, but that doesn't mean I don't like Sleep Token anymore, y'know? All I can really do is apologise for having a non super positive opinion and hope people don't hound me on here for it (which, so far, they haven't, and I appreciate you very much for being really chill about this anon). Give me a week and I'll probably be on the boat of liking them and making analysis posts on all the little details, lol

#thank you to anybody who reads my rant #I'm hoping Tumblr treats me a bit better than Twitter but we'll see #if this post randomly disappears just know it's probably because I got met with mass negativity (again)#I'm fine with people having opinions (obviously) and therefore not liking mine but having at me because of it doesn't sit right with me #thank you for the ask anon!#appreciate it #anon asks #mel's asks #mel's rambles #sleep token #st #iv sleep token #iii sleep token #ii sleep token

12 notes · View notes

wangxianficfinder · 2 years

Text

In the mood for a Fic

~*~

1. So there's been a few times where I've stumbled upon a fic that I wouldn't have normally read/sought out, and ended up really liking it. For the next itmf, what are some fics like that for the other fair readers of this blog, and why did you like it?

The Teenage Girl's Self-Saving System by mercyandmagic (T, 108k, WLJ/WC, WLJ/NMJ, wangxian, LXC/JGY, JYL/JZX, JC/WQ, OC main character, transmigration, everyone’s least fave characer gets character development!) evadingreallife: ‘i'm not a fan of OCs, modern-to-xianxia, self( or any-) inserts, and ofc wang lingjiao, but the premise of this fic was so crack-ish that i just HAD to check it out, and it was a good one in the end´

Let the streetlights guide you home by tellthemstories (M, 37k, wangxian, modern, UST, car racing, Mojo’s bookmark) flamingwell: ‘aka the illegal street racing AU you never knew you needed BUT YOU NEED IT!! Also one of the most *incredible* podfics I've ever listened to’

Spilled Pearls by nirejseki (T, 88k, LQR/WRH, sect leader nie / WRH, slow burn, angst w/ happy ending) Mod L: ‘Aside from all the WIPs I follow I couldnt decide between these three lol For this first one, it’s somewhat difficult for me to grow interested enough to read a fic on pairings and characters I’m neutral about or not fond of. It was really fascinating to read and I liked the exploration of LQR & WRH’s characters in this one.’

The Cloudweavers《云织之者》 by Joythea (T, 38k, wangxian, Madam Lan & OCs, post-canon, OC pov, fluff & angst) Mod L: ‘OCs can be really hit & miss for me and I don’t usually go for fics with OC povs. I loved to read WX’s love from outside and also about madam Lan.’

Diplomatic Incidents by Ariaste (M, wangxian, Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, dragon age crossover, getting together, linguistics, fluff, post-canon mdzs) Mod L: ‘I generally prefer MXTX crossovers when reading MXTX works. And outside of those, I prefer similarly themed(?) crossovers. But sometimes you feel like exploring and come across a crossover that you didn’t think would work well at all. The differences and similarities between the main pairings were just really nice :’D’

~*~

2. hello! I know this is a wangxian blog mostly but I was just curious if anyone knows any good xuexiao fics? Not ones with heavy angst or unhappy endings. So many xuexiao fics are far too sad for me and I was hoping someone might know some fics that are happier. I just read Misalignment by Kasasagi and was looking for something kind of similar? In that Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen have a healthy relationship / talk things through and a happy ending. Could be either Canon or modern era. Also please no songxiaoxue. I like song lan but I just want xuexiao fics. Thank you ~~~

The body's way of saying... by Aoshika_October (T, 2k, WIP, XueXiao, Modern AU, Sickfic, Common Cold, Fever, Caretaking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Literal Sleeping Together, Platonic Cuddling, Pre-Relationship, tags will vary depending on the chapter, Idiots in Love, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, terms of endearment, Self-Indulgent)

3. For the next itmf... are there any fics where wwx doesn't get blamed for everything? Even when people are "on his side" they're calling him stupid and getting mad at him all the time. Yeah he's reckless with his own safety but it's rarely acknowledged that he was literally raised to be that way? And that kind of mentality and upbringing takes a lot to break free from, and yelling at someone for it isnt exactly helpful. And the Lans are always written as being mad at wwx for not realizing lwj was in love with him when there really was no way wwx could have clued into that pre-resurrection? Are there any fics that just... point out how cruel that kind of treatment is? That call people out for ALWAYS blaming wwx even when it's not really his fault?

golden when the day met the night by glitteringmoonlight (Not Rated, 82k, WIP, WangXian, Canon, Slow-ish burn, Sugar Daddy LWJ, Light Angst, Fluff, Developing Relationship, warprize au with a twist, Eventual Smut)

The Young Masters of Four Seasons Manor by gaotamao (G, 91k, WenZhou, WangXian, WOH Crossover, Time Regression, fix-it, WKX raises monstrous sons, Not Jiang Sect Friendly, No Golden Core Transfer) x-over with WoH, but even if you're not familiar with WoH it's worth a read just for the great outsider POV of WWX and LWJ's lives

The Chinese Garden Court by deliciousblizzardshark (T, 5k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Reincarnation, Immortality, Museums)

The Return Series by LtLJ (G, 63k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Yunmeng Brothers Reconciliation, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, breaks from canon during the time skip, YL WWX, CQL Canon, BAMF LWJ, BAMF NHS, Hurt/Comfort, WQ Lives)

~*~

4. mdzs prompts/ looking for

idea originated from a fic I hope that you will come and meet me by feyburner

"I will, I'll sleep here every night. Do you understand? If Lan Zhan wants me to, I will. If Lan Zhan wants me in his bed, that's where I am. If Lan Zhan wants me gone, then I'm gone"

idea: what if lan zhan did want wei ying to be gone or disappear? seems impossible but i want it (ʘᗩʘ’) @ner-u

Does anyone even read work titles? idk what to call this by Nighttdust (M, 14k, WangXian, Curses, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Established Relationship,Post-Canon, Happy Ending, Protective WWX, Insecurity)

the ugly truth by reidviolet (T, 3k, wangxian, modern, heavy angst, breaking up, sad WWX, losing interest, sad ending)

Anginal Equivalents by fakeplasticlily (E, 23k, wangxian, modern, medical residents au, childhood friends, pining, oblivious WWX, sexual content)

~*~

5. For the next In The Mood For post I'd really like to see… anyone's favorite fics with Wei Wuxian in peril! Of course he's very capable and powerful, but everybody needs help sometimes. Would like to see WWX in danger and have someone ride to his rescue -- Lan Wangji is a fav of course, but even better would be Wen Ning, or Jiang Cheng or the juniors, or anyone else who cares about Wei Wuxian. @mikkeneko

Story-Shaped by lingering_song (T, 13k, WangXian, NHS & WWX, Post-Canon, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Inventor WWX, Found Family, Mentioned Character Death, Alcohol, Protective NHS, WangXian Endgame, Not JC Friendly, Not particularly gentry sects friendly overall tbh) NHS does the rescuing in his own way

some good mistakes by Lise (T, 18k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Road trips, rescue Missions, Hurt/Comfort, Awkward Conversations, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, [Podfic] some good mistakes by kisahawklin ) WWX goes missing, Jiang Cheng and LWJ team up to find him. The focus is on all the Emotions that team up brings up, but very much does include a dramatic rescue scene

In The Dark Right Now by phnelt (T, 10k, WangXian, JC & LWJ, JC & WWX, graphic depictions of injuries, trapped in a cave, Near Death Experience, fatalistic thinking, established wangxian, Family Feels, Nobody dies in this fic, Modern AU, Hurt/Comfort) the one where wy and jc are trapped in a cave in- lz on the radio

just as the stories say by TheDameJudiWench (T, 11k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Medical Procedures, some gore, Yunmeng brothers feelings, Family Dynamics, Attempted Murder, Injury Recovery, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Found Family, POV Outsider, Revenge, Grief/Mourning, Forgiveness, Whump, Near Death Experiences) the one where a young girl tries to murder the yiling laozu and almost succeeds

See Me, Feel Me (Listening to You) by Ghost_Honey (T, 29k, WangXian, Junior Quartet, POV WWX, WWX Needs a Hug, WWX's Abyssmal Self-Esteem, Emotional Healing, Angst, Curses, WWX is an Unreliable Narrator, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, The Angst is Mainly Emotional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Cuddling) the one where wy is cursed so he can’t see or feel anyone who feels strongly about him and assumes this means that the people he cares about actually hate him

Something at the Door by Pip (Moirail) (E, 50k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Modern Cultivation, background 3zun, Background Yi City trio, Intrusive Thoughts, Horror, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporary Character Death, Blood, Explicit Sexual Content, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mystery, Urban Fantasy) wwx has a horror-flavored bad time - mostly lwj helping, with a dash of jc for spice

medium blues by darkterrible (E, 193k, WangXian, Horror, Spooky, Opposites Attract, Fluff and Angst, Gore, Ghosts, Necromancy) WWX requires rescuing on a frequent basis

Inkstone by PorcelainBlue (T, 7k, WangXian) an AU that begins with the Twin Jades and some juniors coming to the rescue of Artist! WWX

heroic aftermath by Last_For_Hell (T, 5k, WangXian, Aftermath of Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt WWX, Guilt, References to WWX’s Cynophobia, Implied Sexual Content) the Juniors are caring for a critically-injured WWX (he got mauled by a pack of dog yao!), feeding him spiritual energy in relays until LWJ arrives.)

The Losses and Gains Remain Uncommented On by caesteves (Not Rated, 7k, WangXian, WWX & LXC, Married Couple, Post-Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt WWX, Worried LWJ, Case Fic, (sort of), Alcohol, Hurt/Comfort)

Don't Hold Too Much in Your Heart by caesteves (Not Rated, 13k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX, Post-Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt WWX, Worried LWJ, Fluff, Accidents, Concussions)

transitory by lao_you_tiao (E, 5k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Post-Canon, Porn with Feelings) LWJ rescues a drunken and roofied WWX from a would-be rapist

Cotton Wool ch 5 and Hubris by incendir, the same story from LWJ’s and WWX’s POV respectively, both by incendir; LWJ comes to rescue WWX from an attempted rape by prior harassers. (WWX has been doing a devastating job of self-defense, but is injured, dissociating, and in need of talking down and comforting.)

~*~

6. hi! this blog is such an amazing resource for people like me (bad at using ao3) and thank you guys for the work you do!! sorry if this has been answered, but do you know of any fics that are about a-qing? not as a background or side character but as the/a focus of the fic. brave and clever a-qing :,(

The sparrow's curious song by Mhalachai (T, 13k, NHS & A-Qing, adoption, A-Qing gets happy ending, NHS’ revenge plotting) NHS, intrigued by the clever street rat who picked his pocket, recruits AQ as a disciple

stare at the sun by chomrafy (Not rated, 2k, A-Qing & QS, A-Qing & JRS, canon divergence, fluff, light angst, family feels, everyone lives au, or at least A-Q & QS live) AQ is taken in as a babysitter by QS, who has run away with JRS to live incognito in Yi City

despite it all by novalotypo (T, 292k, wangxian, canon divergence, god of luck WWX, memory loss, non-linear narrative, WIP) WWX, ascended as a God of Luck, takes AQ as his First Disciple

walk with me (I think we'll find a way) by bringsnofear (T, 9k, SL/XXC, AQ & SL, AQ & XXC, hurt/comfort, mute SL, XXC lives, blind XXC, AQ lives, reunions, yi city fix-it) with A-Qing as the main character

Covered By Frost and Snow by Siamesa (T, 44k, wangxian, canon divergence, outsider POV, canon-typical violence, grief/mourning, disabled character, angst & humor, male-female friendship, families of choice, not everyone dies au, major character injury, rabbits, female friendship, WIP)

someone will remember us by captain_apostrophe, MonocerosRex (M, 39k, ChengQing, MingQing, Fluff, yunmeng siblings, Family Feels, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, he gets thoroughly trounced dw, Lan Yi did nothing wrong, mianmian is a rare Functional Bisexual, Canon Schmanon, previous generation, Blood, Violence, Guns, Cowboys, jgs gets what he deserves, MDZS Women Appreciation Weeks) a would-be rapist learns not to fuck with poor defenseless little blind girls.

Fractured - yet unbroken by ThetenthtenbeingofTen (G, <1k, OYZZ/OFC, wangxian, post-canon, yi-city, OYZZ getting married, reincarnation) AQ is reborn to OYZZ and his OC wife as twin girls, one blind and one mute (her soul having been fragmented); they become personal disciples to LWJ and WWX.

~*~

7. mdzs prompts/ looking for

lwj and wwx having secret relationship (cloud recess study age?? or maybe older, anything is fine) and wwx died or got into a comma. their relationship only got known after wwx died/comatose @ner-u

~*~

8. Hi!!! Thanks for everything yall do for us 1st off. Secondly, for the next itmf do yall know of any fics where one part of a couple and 1 half is reincarnated in modern times? I love this kind of fic and have only read a couple (throughline by lunatea and all old things are new again by the feels whale come to mind) especially the intensity of when the reincarnated person gets all their memories back! @curlytopped

the recluse at the end of the moonlit path by b_ofdale (T, 29k, wangxian, modern, reincarnation au, post-canon, immortal LWJ, jack of all trades artist WWX, pining, light angst, reunions, hurt/comfort, implied sexual content, asexual character, good vibes, Mojo’s post)

🧡 The World We Made by updatebug (T, 80k, WangXian, The Old Guard fusion, Immortals, Immortal LWJ, Angst with a Happy Ending, Reincarnation, Modern AU, The Old Guard AU, Temporary Character Death)

I will wait by shadowchan93 (T, <1k, wangxian, major character death, post-canon, immortal LWJ, bittersweet, angst, grief, sadness, not super sad ending but not a happy one either)

Yiling Poltergeist by jaemyun (G, 16k, WangXian, Modern AU, Mention of canon history, Ghost! Wwx, Past Lives, Reincarnation, Humor, Fluff)

Thirty-three Lashes by Winglesss (E, 56k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Modern with Magic, Immortality, Reincarnation, Case Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Nightmares, Ghosts, Curses, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Major Character Injury, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Memory Loss)

🧡We Were Never Strangers by NeverEnoughWangxian (M, 36k, WangXian, Reincarnation, Modern AU, POV WWX, (mostly), College Student WWX, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Immortal LWJ, Immortal LSZ, Dreams, Pining, Sharing a Bed, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Sexual Tension, Sexual Content)

~*~

9. Hello Lovely Mods! Thank you so much for all you do. I was wondering for the next I'm In The Mood For - if you could suggest any fics where voice cultivation is explored/used. I read a fic where Jingyi learned it, but I'd be happy with anyone. It was such a cool premise that I find myself wanting more. Thanks in advance 😁 @ommited-miscellaneously

Tumblr comic by @lee-luca may have originated the idea of LJY studying vocal cultivation.

Please Take This Radish by Wildcard (M, 7k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Bad Parenting, not abusive parenting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comedy, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Dysfunctional Family, demonic radishes, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, For Want of a Nail, Temporary Character Death, Mistaken Identity, musical cultivation) has Xue Yang following Wen Ning home to the burial mounds, where he becomes wwx's 'disciple' (or the teen gets forcibly adopted by the entire village) and learns voice cultivation from wwx. really REALLY good wip au of burial mound days/first siege of burial mounds

Running up that hill by Lhaewiel (M, 9k, WangXian, XuanLi, ChengQing, Canon Divergence, Angst, Drama, Tumblr Link) sorry to answer a Mood request with a Fic Finder request, but I seem to recall a Tumblr fic (illustrated with photos taken from other of the actors’ roles) in which all three Yunmeng Jiang Siblings were musical demonic cultivators: WWX of course played the dizi, JYL played the pipa, and JC sang.

These bright and violent delights by worrystone (G, 15k, XiCheng, ZhanCheng, ChengXian, ChengYao, ChengJue, JC/Everyone, Demonic Cultivator JC, Role Reversal, what if jc had fallen off the cliff instead?, Angst, Ambiguous/Open Ending, read warnings girlies don't say i didn't warn you) role reversal; Yiling Laozu! JC uses vocal musical demonic cultivation

Mending the Pieces by JustAWanderingBabbit (G, 98k, 3zun, post-canon, reincarnation) the Jin Rusong of JustAWanderingBabbit’s stories is a vocal musical cultivator, notably in third-generation fic Mending the Pieces

Different Paths to the Same Route by JustAWanderingBabbit (T, 184k, WangXian, 3Zun, Canon Divergence, What-If, Implied Necrophilia, At least they're talking now, Medicical science in a cultivational world, Magical Genetic Testing, Family Issues) chapter 23 has him being tutored by Lan Jingyi (who thus gets to be a cool Shixiong.)

Gift by Befallings (G, 403, WWX & LXC, Bunnies as a cure to Sadness, Seclusion is Stupid, Light Angst, Angst and Feels, Family Bonding) WWX proposes vocal cultivation to LXC (during Bunny Therapy) as a musical path for LJY

~*~

10. Y’all I read a threadfic and now I’ve got a craving. I’m in the mood for stories where the Lan brothers aren’t on good terms. Specifically after Wei Wuxian’s death and the ensuing 16 years, but I’ll take whatever I can get. I just want some Lan family angst 🥰

恩仇仙人- Enchou xianren (Immortal Avenger) by AshayaTReldai (E, 133k, WIP, WangXian, Angst, Mental Anguish, Pining, Revenge, Execution, internalinter-clan politics, Reincarnation, TGCF notions of ascension and deity, WWX/LWJ marriage, First Time, Post-LWJ whipping, Injury Recovery, Issues of justice, Torture, Not friendly to the Clans - they all get their comeuppance, Hurt/Comfort, Dark LWJ, novel compliant characterisation)

kick at the darkness 'til it bleeds daylight by AlfAlfAlfAlfAlf, tardigradeschool (T, 75k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Together, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Inspired by The Parent Trap (1998), Kid Fic, teen shenanigans, two a-yuans, Angst, Fluff) is not the main focus but I really liked the Lan brothers relationship in kick at the darkness 'til it bleeds daylight

Bitter Recompense by mondengel (M, 1k, LXC & LWJ, Angst)

to arrive late is better than not to arrive at all by Moominmammashandbag (M, 34k, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Soulmates, Chronic Illness, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Hanahaki Disease, but as a curse, Feelings Realization, obsession with interior design, Fluff and Smut, Family Angst, sibling angst, Wedding, Motion Sickness, sect politics, Marriage Proposal)

~*~

11. Hi!! Lately I've read one fic with JC and LXC being a couple and I liked it! So for the next "I'm in a mood for" I'd like recommendations of fic with JC and LXC falling in love, arranging marriage, etc. With Wangxian too, please. I don't mind witch couple is the main one, but I'd love to read fics with this two couples. Happy Endings please! Thank you!! 😊 (If you can find fics that happens when JC and Wangxian were teenagers it'd be awesome!)

Even the Sunlight Pierces to the Bone by OrdinaryRealities (T, 16k, JC/LXC, 2nd in series, post-canon, 5+1, cooking as a form of friendship, relationship based on friendship, working through trauma together, good uncle JC, communication, listening, JGY was a friend and a villain)

smells like teen spirit by TheWanderingHeart (G, 6k, JC/LXC, JC & WWX, ABO, cloud recesses study era, fluff & humor, courtship, omega JC, alpha LXC, puberty, scents & smells)

Utterly Inevitable by sami (M, 20k, XiCheng, WangXian, Family, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Self-Worth Issues, References to Canonical Character Death, Recovery, Character Study, Established Relationship, Getting Together, Marriage, Yunmeng Shuangjie Reconciliation, Post-Canon)

And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami (M, 138k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Time Travel, Fix-It, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Healing, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, BAMF JYL, Getting Together) If you don’t mind poly I rec this one.

~*~

12. hello lovely mods, does anyone know if this has this been done for wangxian as a crossover? bc idk about y'all but this screams wangxian vibes to me. just imagine! lwj as the cleric and wwx as the disguised mxy on the run bc of fear of rejection just does it for me lol (bonus points if lwj actually was the cleric who did the reviving but wwx doesn't know that) @xiaokuer-schmetterling

~*~

13. HI Mods! Do you happen to know of any story where at some point, JC gets all pissed at JGY bc he's trying to turn Yunmeng Jiang into Yunmeng "Meng"?

~*~

14. Hello! for ITMF, are there any fics where wwx dies before/during the sunshot campaign? thank you in advance!

You still sound like a song by Moominmammashandbag (M, 64k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Ghost!WWX, Mystery, LWJ plays inquiry, AU from after the Wens came to Lotus Pier, Most people lived, not everybody died, Angst with a Happy Ending, river spirit!WWX, Angst and Feels, description of murder, imminent smut, Execution, Dogs, Poisons, Discussion of Attempted Murder, BAMF WWX, Family Feels) He dies when the Wens attack Lotus Pier

~*~

15. Hello there!I am in the mood for angsty fic like:

Novel canon, post whip punishment, injured LWJ is able to meet WWX prior the first siege, yet the siege still happen and LWJ witness WWX’s death as in novel version. (NOT falling from a cliff as in CQL)

I am relying on you! Thank you in advance! @yellowridge

~*~

16. Hi. I'm not sure if you're still taking these but I'm in a mood for wangxian fic where wwx is madly in love with lwj but thinks his love is unrequited as lwj always looks conflicted when he has to interact with wwx. What he doesn't know is that lwj is equally in love with him if not more and is just a dork who's bad at emotions.

All at Once It's You by tiptoe39 (E, 28k, wangxian, accidental bonding, love curse, no plot happens au, wens are not evil, gusu lan summer school, internalized homophobia)

💖 Pentimento. by orange_crushed (E, 73k, wangxian, modern, college/university au, art conservation, museums, pining, not actually unrequited love, angst w/ happy ending, misunderstandings, smut, major character injury, hospitalization, hurt/comfort, past incarceration, forgery)

the earthquake in the room by phnelt (E, 39k, WangXian, Modern AU, College AU, Canada, Getting Together, Mentions of lwj/others background NieLan, background WQ/MM, inter-faculty romance, Strangers to lovers to frenemies to lovers)

Fervid as a Flame by snowkatze (T, 5k, wangxian, modern, getting together, first kiss, pining, insecurity, misunderstandings, not actually unrequited love, angst w/ happy ending)

Anginal Equivalents by fakeplasticlily (E, 23k, wangxian, modern, medical residents au, childhood friends, pining, oblivious WWX, sexual content) (link in #4)

Straight at the Sun by diamondbruise (E, 33k, WangXian, Canon Universe, no war though, Mutual Pining, Pining while fucking, Misunderstandings, First Time, Anal Sex, wwx desperately wants lwj’s attention, lwj desperately wants to marry wwx, Miscommunication, Jealousy, in abundance, Happy Ending) kinda

~*~

17. Hi! Thank you so much for this blog and all your hard work! For your next iitmf, do you know any fics where JC deals with drug taking/addiction/getting clean? I don't mind where the fic is set, just no JC bashing! Thank you!

the long way back home by Misila (E, 210k, WIP, WangXian Yunmeng Siblings, Family, Romance, Heavy Angst, Hopeful Ending, JC-centric, Dysfunctional Family, Abuse, Mental Health Issues, Suicide Themes, Recovery, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note) i think it is implied in this one, my memory is kinda bad though😅

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#mdzs #the untamed #wangxian #wangxianficfinder #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #wangxian fic search #long post

121 notes · View notes