#I just want to read the but don't know how to a good fic but I want one to read | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kaiyunsim · 1 day ago

Text

best lover —

pairing : bf!taesan x gn!reader

summary : after taesan works hard for the newest comeback you wanted to get him a gift... something perfect. but you don't know what exactly to get him so you get help from his roommate.

warnings : fluff, angst (just a little bit), tense confrontation, some music references, taesan gets kinda jealous, kind of a continuation of this fic

a/n : this lowkey made me relapse into the emo/punk genre and now i'm actively listening to them again ! taesan so silly here.

queueing : best lover - bibi, and july - heize + dean

[requested]

— wc : 4.8k — not proof read —

you’ve always known taesan was cool.

not in the tryhard way, not in the way people force an image to seem untouchable. no, he’s effortlessly cool. the kind of cool that comes from simply existing, from being so unapologetically himself that it draws people in.

his aesthetic is proof of that—dark clothes, silver rings, an ever-growing collection of band tees that he claims aren’t a collection but still seem to multiply every time you see him. his playlists are filled with gritty guitar riffs and melancholic lyrics, songs that feel like they belong in a coming-of-age film.

you love it. you love the way he leans against walls like a movie character, the way his fingers tap out drum beats on tables when he’s lost in thought. the way his voice gets softer when he talks about music, when he lets his guard down just enough for you to see the warmth underneath.

so, when their comeback is finally announced, when you see the hours of training, late-night rehearsals, and exhaustion culminate into something incredible, you know you need to do something. something that says, i see you. i see how hard you’ve worked, and i’m proud of you.

but what do you get someone like taesan?

he’s never been the type to want extravagant gifts. he shrugs off praise, mumbles “it’s nothing” when people tell him he’s done well. but you know he keeps every little note fans give him, that he still has the random trinkets the members bought him over the years.

so it has to be something personal. something that actually means something.

you think about it for days, running through ideas in your head. clothes? no, too easy. he already has everything he likes. accessories? maybe, but he’s picky, and you don’t trust yourself to pick out something he’d actually wear.

and then it hits you.

vinyls.

taesan loves music in a way that’s deeper than just listening. he collects records, always talking about how certain albums sound different on vinyl, how the warmth and crackle make it feel more alive. you’ve seen the way he runs his fingers over the covers, the way he carefully places them on his turntable like he’s handling something sacred.

but you don’t know enough about it.

you know the bands he listens to, sure, but not the specific pressings, not which editions are worth having, not which ones he’s been searching for. you need help.

so, you text the only person who would know and would be the most help.

sungho.

—

you: hey, random question, but do you think you could help me with something?

he replies almost immediately.

sungho: depends. am i gonna regret saying yes?

you snort. typical.

you: no, it’s for taesan. i wanna get him some vinyls, but i don’t know which ones he’d actually want.

a pause. then—

sungho: oh. you’re going ot make him a happy boyfriend for sure. sungho: yeah, i can help. you free tomorrow?

relief washes over you.

you: yeah. thanks, sungho. seriously.

sungho: don’t thank me yet. wait till we actually find something good.

you smile, pocketing your phone.

this is a good plan. a perfect plan.

now, you just have to keep it a secret.

the next morning, you wake up with a nervous excitement buzzing under your skin.

taesan is still half-asleep when you see him, his hair messy from sleep, the collar of his oversized shirt slipping down one shoulder. he looks soft like this, different from his usual sharp edges and guarded expressions.

“morning,” you say, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before he can grumble in protest.

he mumbles something incoherent, eyes still closed, before reaching out and lazily wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

you laugh, poking his side. “i have to go out for a bit.”

that wakes him up a little. his eyes blink open, groggy but alert. “where?”

you freeze for half a second before forcing yourself to play it cool. “just running errands.”

his brow furrows slightly, but he doesn’t question it. instead, he just tightens his grip around you for a moment before letting go.

“be safe,” he mumbles, voice still thick with sleep.

your heart squeezes at that.

you brush his hair out of his face, letting your fingers linger for a second longer than necessary. “always.”

—

meeting up with sungho feels like a mission.

he’s already waiting outside the taesan's dorm room, dressed casually but still effortlessly put together, a stark contrast to the slightly chaotic energy you’re bringing with you.

“you look nervous,” he says, amused.

“because i am.”

he raises an eyebrow. “it’s just vinyl shopping.”

“yeah, but it’s for taesan,” you stress. “i can’t mess this up. i need to find something perfect.”

sungho rolls his eyes but leads the way inside the vinyl store, hidden in the corners of the busy streets.

the moment you step in, you’re overwhelmed.

rows and rows of records stretch out in front of you, organized into sections you barely understand. the store smells like old paper and something nostalgic, a quiet hum of music playing from the speakers.

sungho glances at you. “you know what bands he likes, right?”

you nod. “yeah, but i don’t know what he already has.”

“then we start with the basics.”

he guides you through the aisles, pointing out albums that fit taesan’s taste. some are obvious bands you’ve seen on his playlists, artists you recognize from the posters in his room. others, not so much.

“this one’s a classic,” sungho says, pulling out a worn-looking album. “he’s mentioned it before, i think he even has a t-shirt of them.”

it was the black parade by my chemical romance

you take it from him, running your fingers over the cover. “do you think he already has the vinyl?”

sungho shakes his head. “nah, he would’ve bragged about it if he did.”

you smile at that. taesan isn’t the bragging type, not really, but when it comes to things he loves, he can’t help but share them with you. you can already picture the way his eyes will light up when he sees the gift, the way he’ll trace the album cover with careful fingers before hugging you in that quiet, deliberate way of his.

this is good. this is exactly what you wanted.

you glance at sungho. “i think we’re on the right track.”

he smirks. “told you.”

you roll your eyes but can’t hide your grin.

this is going to be perfect.

if you can keep it a secret long enough.

you flip through the stacks carefully, the plastic sleeves crinkling under your fingertips as you skim the selection. rows of album covers stare back at you, some bold and vibrant, others muted and mysterious, each one a different piece of someone’s story.

sungho stands beside you, already pulling out records with ease, flipping them over to check editions and pressings like it’s second nature.

“how do you even know all this?” you ask, watching as he inspects a black-and-white cover, his eyes narrowing slightly before he shakes his head and puts it back.

he smirks. “taesan’s not the only one with taste, you know.”

you roll your eyes. “yeah, but you act like this is your second home.”

he hums, running his fingers along the edge of a shelf. “it kinda is. when i first moved into the dorms, i’d come to places like this just to kill time. got to know a lot about music that way.”

that makes sense. sungho has that effortless, older-brother energy, the kind that makes you feel like he’s always been one step ahead of everyone else. but even so, you know there’s more to it. something about the way he says it, like music was a comfort rather than just a hobby.

you glance down at the album in your hands. the artwork is dramatic, painted in deep reds and blacks, the kind of thing you could easily imagine taesan leaving out on his desk just because it looks cool. it was titled a fever you can’t sweat out this time, by panic at the disco

you hesitate. “what about this one?”

sungho looks over, and to your relief, he nods in approval. “solid pick. taesan likes them. they have that whole raw, gritty sound he’s into.”

you exhale, setting it aside in the growing pile of vinyls you’ve picked out. “good. i was kinda guessing.”

sungho snickers. “if you were completely guessing, you would’ve picked something embarrassing.”

you give him a flat look. “i wouldn’t do that.”

“you sure? no boyband vinyls hidden in that stack?”

“why are you acting like that would be a crime?”

he laughs, shaking his head. “nah, but taesan would probably combust.”

you grin at the thought. he probably would. his whole tough, brooding image crumbling the second someone dared to associate him with anything remotely bright and upbeat. you’ve teased him about it before, played pop songs in his presence just to watch him pretend he wasn’t listening.

but this isn’t about teasing him. this is about him.

you glance around the store, taking in the dim lighting, the faint sound of a record spinning in the background. a few other customers linger nearby, flipping through vinyls with the same careful reverence, but none of them seem rushed. it’s the kind of place taesan would get lost in, taking his time with every shelf, soaking in the atmosphere.

you wish he was here.

you shake the thought away before it can settle too deep.

“okay,” you say, straightening up. “i think i need at least one more.”

sungho scans the shelves before reaching over and pulling out a record without hesitation.

“this.”

you take it from him, studying the cover. it’s striking… american idiot by greenday.

“he’s been looking for this one,” sungho explains. “i remember him complaining about how it’s always out of stock.”

your chest warms. “then that’s perfect.”

sungho grins. “congrats, you officially have a good gift… or multiple”

you roll your eyes but can’t help but smile. “thanks for the approval.”

“anytime.”

you head to the counter, placing the records down carefully as the cashier rings them up. the prices make you wince a little. vinyl collecting is not cheap. but you don’t hesitate. taesan is worth it.

when you step back outside, the air feels cooler, a slight breeze brushing against your skin. sungho stretches beside you, squinting up at the sky.

“so,” he says. “how are you planning to give it to him?”

you blink. “uh. just... give it to him?”

he gives you a flat look. “you’re really bad at this.”

“excuse me?”

“c’mon,” he says. “you go through all this trouble, sneak around just to surprise him, and you’re just gonna hand it to him like it’s a bag of chips?”

you frown. “what am i supposed to do? make a scavenger hunt?”

“i mean, that would be funny.”

“sungho.”

he chuckles. “fine, fine. but at least make it a moment, you know? like, put them in a nice box or something. set the mood a little.”

you consider that. he’s right. you don’t just want this to be a casual exchange. you want taesan to feel how much this means.

“okay,” you say slowly. “i’ll think of something.”

sungho pats your shoulder. “good. because if you don’t, i’m telling him i helped.”

you gasp. “you wouldn’t.”

his grin is downright evil. “try me.”

you groan, shoving him lightly as he laughs.

but despite the teasing, there’s a warmth in your chest that wasn’t there before. because for all the effort, all the second-guessing, all the overthinking. you know this is the right thing to do.

you just hope taesan sees it that way, too.

you and sungho are now wandering the streets, bags in hand, the weight of them a constant reminder of what you're keeping from taesan. there's a knot in your stomach, anxiety creeping in at the thought of what will happen once you return to the dorm.

sungho notices you fidgeting with your phone, eyes flicking between your screen and the road ahead. "you've been checking your messages like every two seconds," he says with a knowing smile. "taesan giving you trouble?"

"i... i don’t know," you mutter, glancing at your phone again. "he hasn’t texted yet. i think he’s mad."

sungho snorts. "he’s always mad."

you roll your eyes but can't help the tension building inside you. it's not like taesan to be suspicious like this. sure, he's possessive at times, but you’ve always been upfront with him. today, though, everything feels off. you know he’s probably wondering where you are, especially after leaving so abruptly.

after a few more moments of walking, your phone buzzes in your hand. it’s a message from taesan.

you open it quickly, your heart dropping when you read the text.

taesan: where are you?

you can almost hear the frustration in his words, even though they’re so short. you hesitate for a moment, trying to figure out how to respond. the last thing you want is to reveal anything.

“everything okay?” sungho asks, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow.

“yeah,” you say quickly, typing back a response. "just... running… errands…"

you: just out. why?

you hit send and try to push the worry away. but it doesn’t help when your phone buzzes again, another message from taesan.

taesan: are you by yourself?

your stomach tightens. it feels like he’s fishing for something, trying to confirm his suspicions. you swallow hard. taesan doesn’t know you’re out with sungho. he probably thinks you’re just alone, maybe out with someone else. the thought of him jumping to conclusions makes you tense up.

“you need to tell him the truth, man,” sungho says, half-joking but still serious. “it’s gonna be hard to keep it up much longer.”

you bite your lip, looking at the text again. taesan doesn’t like being kept in the dark. but if you tell him you're out with sungho, there's no way you can keep the surprise a secret.

you: yeah, just me. out by myself.

you send the message quickly, almost immediately regretting it. the lie feels wrong in your gut, but you can’t risk ruining the surprise.

as soon as you hit send, another text from taesan comes through.

taesan: you didn’t tell me where you went. it’s weird, you know. don’t lie to me.

your heart sinks. this is exactly what you were afraid of. you can feel his frustration radiating through the words, even though they’re brief. taesan might not say it outright, but you know he’s pissed.

“is he mad?” sungho asks, eyes narrowing as he watches you.

“yeah,” you say quietly, looking at the screen again. “he thinks i’m lying.”

sungho tilts his head, his expression softening. “well, you kind of are...”

you groan, feeling guilty. “yeah, but if i tell him the truth, he’ll know what we’re really doing.”

sungho sighs but doesn’t press. “you’ve got to be careful, though. taesan can’t stand being lied to. he might feel like you’re hiding something else.”

you take a deep breath, trying to push the anxiety aside. “he’s just overthinking it. i’ll deal with it when we get back.”

you walk in silence for a bit longer, and the weight of the lie is starting to feel unbearable. but then your phone buzzes again. it’s from taesan.

taesan: riwoo just told me you’re out with sungho. why didn’t you say that?

your heart stops. it feels like everything is crashing down around you. of course, taesan would hear from riwoo. he always does. but you didn’t think it would happen so soon.

sungho laughs lightly, though it’s more nervous than anything else. “i mean, it’s not like you didn’t want him to find out.”

you stare at the message, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration. “he’s so mad now...”

“you better fix it,” sungho says with a small chuckle. “he’s gonna blow up on you if you keep avoiding the truth.”

you sigh, rubbing your eyes. “i don’t know how to fix it. i’ve already lied twice.”

“well,” sungho says, “maybe you just gotta... tell him the truth at this point. no more hiding.”

but you’re not ready to do that. not yet. the surprise is too important to mess up now.

you type out a message, your hands shaking a little as you try to keep it steady.

you: i’m sorry. we just bumped into eachothee

you press send, waiting for taesan’s response with bated breath.

it takes a while, but finally, your phone buzzes.

taesan: it was a coincidence?

you let out a sigh of relief. it's not as bad as it could have been, but you still feel like you’ve messed up.

you: yeah, i went out to grab some stuff, and boom, sungho was there getting some stuff for the dorm too

you wait for a reply, and when it comes, it’s still not as angry as you expected, but you can hear the frustration in taesan’s words.

taesan: you know, you could’ve just told me. i don’t like when you hide stuff from me.

your heart drops, and you feel guilty again. you want to explain yourself, but you’re afraid it’ll make everything worse.

“he’s really pissed now,” you say quietly to sungho, who nods sympathetically.

“you should’ve just told him earlier,” he says, though his tone is more playful than critical. “now you gotta go back and fix it.”

you take a deep breath, realizing sungho’s right. you’re going to have to deal with the fallout when you get back to the dorm.

you decide on sungho’s dorm since taesan is rooming with woonhak and jaehyun so it would be perfect to wrap his gift all together and put final touched on it.

but once you open the door, you stand frozen at the door of sungho’s dorm, heart hammering in your chest. the moment taesan walks in, everything about the room shifts. his presence fills the space, and even though he’s not saying anything yet, you feel the weight of his gaze.

“so, this is where you’ve been?” taesan’s voice cuts through the silence. it’s sharper than usual, colder too. he looks at you, then at sungho, his eyes narrowing. “i thought you said you were by yourself.”

you feel your breath catch in your throat. his words hit harder than expected, but you force a smile, trying to keep your cool. “i was… i mean, i am.”

taesan tilts his head, his eyes scanning you like he’s trying to figure out if you’re lying. you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “i just bumped into sungho, we were talking, and i guess riwoo saw us leave together.” you’re already regretting how this sounds, but you can’t back down now. you have to keep the lie intact.

“bumped into sungho?” taesan’s voice drips with suspicion. “so it’s just a coincidence you were both out together?”

you nod quickly, hoping he buys it. “yeah, we were just… talking, you know? nothing serious. i just didn’t want to bother you while you were busy.”

taesan crosses his arms, studying you with a sharp gaze. “that doesn’t sound right.”

the air between you two feels like it’s crackling with tension. you swallow hard, knowing you can’t let him get too suspicious. “it’s really nothing, taesan. you know i wouldn’t lie to you about this.”

“you wouldn’t, huh?” taesan says slowly, his tone soft but with a dangerous edge. “then why didn’t you just tell me? why go through all this just to cover up some… coincidence?”

you flinch slightly at his words, the guilt gnawing at you. but you won’t break. you can’t spoil the surprise now. not when everything is so close to being perfect.

“i didn’t want to bother you with the details,” you say, hoping he buys it. “i just figured i’d spend some time with sungho, that’s all.” you glance at sungho for a moment, but he’s standing still, like he’s unsure whether to step in.

taesan watches you for a long beat, and you can see the wheels turning in his mind. his expression hardens. “so you thought it’d be better to lie to me, to sneak around?”

your chest tightens, the weight of his words sinking in deeper than you expected. “taesan, it’s not like that.”

“really?” taesan’s voice rises, a hint of frustration creeping in. “because that’s exactly what it sounds like. i don’t know, it’s just hard to believe that you’re not hiding something. are you trying to cover something up?”

you feel your heart race. this is spiraling out of control, and you don’t know how to stop it. the last thing you want is for him to think you’re doing something behind his back.

“taesan, please,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “you’re overthinking this. i didn’t want to tell you because i didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.” you force yourself to look him in the eye, trying to convey sincerity. “it’s nothing, really.”

taesan doesn’t respond right away. he’s still standing there, arms crossed, eyes cold as he studies you. you feel like he’s dissecting every word you’ve said, trying to figure out if you’re being honest or not.

“so what, this is all just some coincidence?” taesan asks again, voice dripping with doubt. “you just happened to be with sungho, and riwoo just happened to see you leaving together?”

you nod quickly, trying to sound convincing. “yeah, that’s it. it’s just a coincidence, taesan.”

taesan lets out a long breath, his frustration simmering just under the surface. he doesn’t seem convinced, but he doesn’t push further. yet.

“you’re making this harder than it needs to be,” you say, trying to change the subject. “it’s nothing. seriously.”

taesan stays quiet, his eyes narrowing, still unconvinced. “i don’t know if i believe you, but fine. if you say so.”

there’s a moment of silence between you two, and you can almost feel the distance growing between you. you want to tell him the truth, but you can’t risk it. not yet.

“you didn’t need to lie to me, you know,” taesan says softly, his gaze softer but still guarded. “you could’ve just told me where you were. there wouldn’t have been any problem.”

“i know,” you say, your heart sinking. “but i didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

the moment you say it, you regret it. taesan’s eyes flash with confusion, but he doesn’t say anything. he just watches you, waiting.

“what surprise?” taesan asks, the suspicion back in his voice.

you hesitate, panic rising. you can’t tell him, not yet. not when you’re this close.

“it’s nothing,” you say quickly, forcing a smile. “i just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

taesan’s gaze sharpens again. “you’re lying. i can tell.”

you want to scream, to tell him the truth, but you stay silent, your heart heavy with the pressure of it all.

“you’ve been hiding something from me, haven’t you?” taesan asks, his voice quiet now, as if he’s piecing everything together.

you look away, unable to meet his eyes. you can’t keep lying, but you can’t give in either. not yet.

“taesan, please,” you whisper. “just trust me. i don’t want to hurt you.”

he sighs, his expression softening just a little. “i trust you, but it’s hard when you keep lying to me. i just don’t get why you couldn’t tell me what was going on.”

you open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. your throat feels tight, and your mind is racing, trying to figure out how to get yourself out of this mess.

“i’m sorry,” you finally say, your voice barely audible. “i didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

taesan looks at you for a long moment, his face softening a bit. “it’s fine,” he says quietly. “but next time, just tell me. no more lies.”

you nod, relieved but still filled with guilt.

there’s a long silence, and then you finally reach into your bag and pull out the vinyl and the trinkets you picked out for him. you hold them out to him, your hands shaking.

“here,” you say softly, voice full of apology. “i got these for you. i… i thought you’d like them.”

taesan takes the items slowly, his expression unreadable. after a few moments, he looks up at you. “you didn’t have to do this,” he says, his voice softening. “but… thanks.”

you smile weakly, still feeling the weight of everything. “i’m sorry for making you mad.”

taesan sighs, stepping closer to you. “it’s okay. just promise me no more lies, alright?”

“promise,” you say quietly.

and for the first time in what feels like forever, the tension begins to melt away. taesan pulls you into a hug, and you let yourself relax, knowing that you’ll have to make things right.

but for now, you’re just grateful that he’s still here.

taesan is silent for a long time, just staring at the vinyls in his hands. his fingers trace over the covers, his expression unreadable.

you shift nervously, waiting for some kind of reaction. was this too much? was this not what he would’ve liked? sungho had assured you it was a good choice, but now, standing here with taesan’s gaze locked onto the gift, doubt creeps in.

“you really did all this for me?” taesan finally asks, voice quieter now.

you nod quickly. “of course i did. you just had a comeback, and i wanted to get you something that actually fit your taste. something you’d really like.”

he exhales slowly, his grip tightening around the vinyls for a second before he looks up at you. his expression has softened completely, the cold edge gone. instead, there’s something else… something warmer.

“you’re an idiot,” he mutters, but there’s no bite to his words. in fact, his lips twitch slightly, like he’s trying not to smile. “you could’ve just told me.”

“and ruin the surprise?” you huff, crossing your arms. “not a chance.”

taesan sighs, shaking his head. “you made me worry for nothing.”

“i didn’t mean to,” you mumble, guilt creeping back in.

he looks at you for another long second before stepping forward, wrapping his arms around you. his hold is firm, secure, like he’s grounding himself in your presence.

you blink, surprised at the sudden affection, but quickly melt into the embrace. his scent is familiar, and the warmth of his body makes all the stress from earlier fade.

“don’t do that again,” he mutters into your hair. “just tell me next time.”

you nod against his chest. “okay. i promise.”

he pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you, his dark eyes still holding a bit of lingering frustration. but it’s different now. less about suspicion, more about the fact that you worried him.

his eyes flicker to sungho, and his warmth disappears just slightly as he levels a glare at him. “and you,” he says, narrowing his eyes.

sungho raises his hands defensively. “hey, don’t look at me like that. i was just helping.”

“helping,” taesan repeats, clearly not convinced. “spending hours alone with y/n, keeping secrets, sneaking around.”

sungho rolls his eyes. “yeah, yeah, i get it. i’d be mad too. but it’s not like that.”

“doesn’t matter,” taesan grumbles, still glaring. “you still got too comfortable.”

you groan, tugging at his sleeve. “taesan, please. it’s not like we were on a date or something.”

taesan clicks his tongue but lets it go, instead looking back at the items in his hands. now that he’s actually processing it, his expression shifts, like he’s finally realizing what you got him, without the worry of why you were lying.

“wait,” he mutters, flipping it over. “this album… where did you find this?”

you grin. “special store sungho knew about. he helped me find the best ones.”

taesan pauses for a moment, then looks at you again, softer this time. “you really went through all this trouble just to get me something i’d like?”

you scoff. “of course i did. i love you, you idiot.”

his ears turn red. it’s subtle, but you notice it. he looks away, clearing his throat. “you’re the idiot,” he mumbles, gripping the vinyls like it’s the most precious thing in the world. “but… thanks.”

he pulls you into another hug, holding you tight, like he doesn’t want to let go.

and just like that, everything feels right again.

124 notes · View notes

zepskies · 9 hours ago

Text

@lamentationsofalonelypotato

LOL I loveeee it. Join me!!! 😘

Girl, you're killing it with the LOTR fanfiction. It's so good and this one for Eomer is no exception. First of all I really like the premise of this fic, an arranged marriage that grows into love 💕 And I love that you said it started out as an OFC and you turned it into a reader insert- I know we've both talked about that before and you know how I've done the same thing for some of my fics 🥰

omg you're the best, thank you!! 😭😭 I'm so glad you liked the premise! Yeah I want to adapt more of the OFC outline into different one-shots in this same "arranged marriage"-verse lol. At least some parts of that story will get realized. 💓💓

Oh my word, he drew her a bath- what a MAN. Also I love the added detail that she still wrapped herself in the blanket when she walked even though it's after the two of them have slept together. I think it is perfect for the arranged marriage side of the story, that she's still not quite comfortable showing all of herself yet and it was a great little detail you added.

Everyone talks about Aragorn, but Eomer is a Good Man too! 🥹 I just feel like we didn't get to see enough of how he would be courteous with a woman/his spouse. Maybe not as "gentle" as how we think of Aragorn, but I feel like as a hardened warrior, he'd take pains to be gentle with his (new) wife. 💕

And I'm glad you liked that detail of her not being totally comfortable being that exposed with him yet, despite the fact that he's already "seen it all" lol. I feel like the morning after has a bit more vulnerability to it.

Oh my sweet goodness, the little look into his head of him thinking about his wife. For me it's giving a little bit of "he falls first" and I'm melting!

😏😏 Eomer def has her on the brain, whether he realizes it or not.

Honey I'm going to stop you right there... YES, yes it is a duty he relishes in!

Oh, it absolutely is. 😏💗

For the love of sweet baby corn, she's making the dangerous horse-riding sexy man who could and snap me in half (and I'd say thank you) blush! 😂

She's making an impossible feat, amirite? 🤣 (I'd ALSO say thank you for the "snapping" lmao.)

And she made him smile 😭 Oh my word this is so good! I need 50 million more! I would love to read more of this reader and Eomer falling in love, but if not that’s also okay- because this was incredible just the way it was my wonderful friend 💚💚💚!

Another nearly impossible feat!! loll Girl don't tempt me!! I'll churn out more parts of that outline like you wouldn't believe because I had so much fun with this one. 🥰🥰 Thank you SO very much for reading this first installment of their story.

AS TRADITION DICTATES

Pairing: Éomer x Reader

Summary: Your marriage to the Third Marshal of the Mark has been arranged in the hopes of renewing political ties between Rohan and Gondor. The morning after the ceremony, your new husband continues to defy your expectations.

AN: I’ve been wanting to write something for Éomer for a while now, so here we go! Confession: this one-shot actually comes from an Éomer x OFC story I have fully outlined, called The Appeasement Bride. I adapted this snippet into a reader insert story.

Word Count: 1.7K

Originally posted on Patreon: 1/21/2025

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Spiciness, fluff, newlyweds trying to suss each other out lol.

You woke just after the dawn, the sun peeking over the horizon and filtering through the open window. Its light began to wash over your face and stir you from a deep, well-earned sleep.

Your hand slipped out from under your head and drifted over…and you frowned. Opening your eyes, you realized that your husband’s side of the bed was empty and cold. Already, it seemed, he didn’t care to be with you when you woke. Had you done something wrong?

Flashes of memory from the night before conjured in your mind; of the surprising carefulness in his calloused hands, of hot, sweat-slick skin against yours, and the rasp of his beard as his lips and deft fingers taught you more of pleasure.

A shiver ran down your spine, blooming some warmth between your legs. Surely, if you had displeased him, he would’ve told you so. Or maybe he was polite enough to withhold that from you, along with most of his other thoughts. Éomer was often so stoic, it was difficult for you to learn your husband, even before the wedding ceremony yesterday.

You had come to Rohan over a month ago, and in that time, you had been able to glean precious little about him other than the ones he seemed to value most: his sister, his cousin, his uncle, Théoden King, his country, and his horse.

Not that he told you any of these things in words. You saw it in his actions—by the way he carried himself, and the way he spoke to you and others with fairness and courtesy, not arrogance. You’d heard gossip of his infamous temper, but so far, you had not seen it.

Nor did you see him now.

Perhaps he had more pressing work to do. In these past few weeks, you saw a bit of how demanding his station could be, and you understood his duty to patrol the Riddermark as Third Marshal of these lands. However, if he could’ve just been courteous enough to wake you before he left—

The heavy door of the bed chamber opened to Éomer himself. He wore only breeches and boots, his wheat-blonde hair loose and unadorned down his back. You swallowed a surprised gasp and watched him from the bed, unconsciously bringing the fur blanket up to your shoulders.

He met you with a polite, “Good morning,” before he continued inside to stoke the fire. He held more kindling wood in his arms, and he laid it on the platform before the fireplace.

“Good morning,” you nodded, though your cheeks warmed in a blush at the sight of his bare chest (you remembered that slightly wooly patch well). The defined muscles of his shoulders and arms shifted with his movements.

You were also a little embarrassed for overthinking.

“You rose early,” you added belatedly, for lack of something better to say.

“I am accustomed to it,” he said.

He finished with the fire and stood. You couldn’t help the way he captured your gaze, his measured steps bringing him closer to the bed. You sat up to meet him, the furs draping from your body, covering only where you held the soft fabric over your breasts. His eyes were an interesting shade of green as they roamed over you.

“How did you sleep?” he asked.

Somehow it was not what you were expecting, though it was perfectly agreeable. Your blush deepened.

“Very well, thank you.”

He nodded. Then, something almost hesitant passed through his gaze.

“I’ve drawn a bath for you, unless you prefer to rest longer,” he said.

You blinked. “Really?” That was a kindness you did not expect.

Éomer’s lips tugged upwards. He offered you his hand. Though you hesitated, you slipped your free hand into his. Instinctively you took the furs with you to cover yourself, your face warming down to your neck under the weight of his amused stare.

Your hair was a tangled mess along with the sheets remaining tousled on the bed, and you realized that your body was sore in places you had never felt so. He led you around a simple wooden partition to a wide bath that was built into the ground. Your eyes widened at the luxury of it.

You had noticed that Rohan largely valued comfort and efficiency over ornateness in their architecture, but it seemed they lavished some things with greater detail.

Éomer helped you step into the bath. He took the furs from you, still with that amused glint, but he couldn’t stop himself from taking note of your bare, supple form, what glimpse he was able to get before you lowered yourself into the steaming water. He had explored each and every lovely curve the night before, but you were lovelier to behold in the morning, he thought.

You looked up at him with some hesitance, but there was a question there that he thought he would like to answer.

“Have you already bathed?” you asked.

“Yes,” he nodded, “I will leave you to your leisure. Breakfast will be brought up in a little while.”

“Oh. Yes, thank you,” you said.

Was that a note of disappointment in your tone, in the downturn of your face?

Éomer paused, but he did as he set out to do, leaving you to your bath in peace. He went over to his side of the bed to continue dressing himself, slipping a long shirt over his head that he tucked into his breeches. Though he tried not to let them, his thoughts of you remained.

Meanwhile, you relished in the hot water relieving your sore muscles (and other places). You washed and hummed a little tune to yourself, forgetting that you weren’t entirely alone, despite the partition.

By the time you left the bath, dried off and dressed in a heavy robe over a thin dressing gown, your new husband was already munching on bread and fruit and other good things that were brought up from the kitchens. He welcomed you to sit with him by the fire, where two wide chairs were draped with furs to make them comfortable. You joined him, and the tray of goods rested in between your seats.

“Do you have much to do?” you asked, while buttering a slice of bread. The crust was hard and somewhat sour, but the inside was soft and delicious.

“The only business I must attend to today is to remain kept with my wife,” Éomer said. He glanced up at you, once again capturing your gaze. “As tradition dictates.”

By the Valar, was there no end to how you blushed around this man? You only couldn’t tell if being kept by you was a duty he relished in.

You almost didn’t hear him when he added, “Tomorrow we will see your family off. They ride back to Gondor.”

Belatedly, you nodded. Éomer saw the note of melancholy cross your face.

“I am sure it is…a sooner parting than you would like,” he said.

You offered him a rueful smile. “Yes, but…not as difficult a goodbye as I thought it would be.”

One of his brows rose. “Why is that?”

Drawing in a deep breath, you mustered a little courage to answer him honestly.

“I did not know what to expect when I arrived in Rohan, but its lands have beauty of its own. Its people have integrity and courage, and its noble house is noble indeed,” you said. A small, true smile brightened you when you looked at him. “It is honorable, and kind.”

Éomer blinked in surprise. On his face it was still muted, but it was there. Your words touched him. He cleared his throat, for some reason finding his face a bit warm. In his eyes, you continued to be a wonder. He too hadn’t known what to expect from a woman of Gondor. He knew what many in your country thought of the people of Rohan—simple folk at best, and horse-wild barbarians at worst. With you, he’d mostly expected a haughty, spoiled brat.

He’d never been more willing to be proven wrong. In fact, the more he learned about you, the more beautiful you became.

He reached over, almost hesitant to cover your hand with his larger one. He was suddenly very conscious of his rougher palm in contrast with your soft skin.

“Regardless of how we were entered into this arrangement, I stand by my vows,” he said. “I will honor and protect you, and do my utmost to make you comfortable here in my home.”

You smiled. Your hand turned under his to curl your fingers around his palm.

“I will also honor and protect you in whatever way I am able. And I will do my utmost for your house, for it is now mine as well,” you replied.

Éomer brushed his thumb over the back of your hand. He rose out of his seat enough to lean over, and he kissed you. It was sincere, but all too brief. You leaned towards him after he broke away, left wanting more as your eyes slid open.

Recognizing that look of desire stirred his own, deep in the pit of his stomach. He tugged on your hand meaningfully and guided you out of your chair, over to him. You tentatively sat across his lap, uttering a laugh when you slid backwards and landed against his chest. Your hand flew there to steady yourself. Éomer clasped it against his heart and claimed you in a deeper, rougher kiss, one fueled by a craving he couldn’t name.

You held his bearded face and hummed sweetly into his mouth. You matched his fervor, your fingers slipping into his hair and instinctively tightening a stronghold. He groaned in response. His hands, large and strong, moved over your side and down your back, while the other squeezed the supple flesh of your hip through your thin gown.

Soon, it wasn’t enough. He slid his arms around your waist and under your knees before he stood with you in his arms. He smiled at your squeal of surprise. It was the first real smile you’d ever seen upon his face. It delighted you to be the one who put it there.

He carried you to back his bed. Our bed.

But still, it was only a matter of lust, if twined with mutual respect and…curiosity.

You did not love him. (Yet.)

AN: Love me some blonde, medieval cowboy Karl Urban. 😘💜

Join My Patreon 🌟 Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

LOTR/The Hobbit Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Eomer Tag List:

@kmc1989 @eddie-munson-stories @thebiggerbear @lamaudite

#lovely review!! 💓💓#reader appreciation #lovely mutuals #as tradition dictates feedback

109 notes · View notes

shurup-overt · 2 days ago

Text

don't ever let go of what's beloved

these bastards made me cry! THRICE!!

@mari-lair I wanna thank you from the bottom of my heart, also this will be LONG. I'm sorry skdjkls

SPOILERS UP TO CH27 BELOW

(not super detailed but still can ruin the experience)

I'VE FINALLY read ycit after half a year of putting it off it just because I "didn't like the idea of akane being dead&doomed" skslsks I was wayy too superstitious. anyway I'm glad I stopped being stubborn

IT WAS HELL OF A RIDE (positive) and I finished it (27 chapters at that moment) looking like nene in ch107

I'm not even joking

where do I even begin.

the amount of research and thought and love poured into the fic is INSANE. it's always so nice to feel the author's passion through the work and this one overflows with it.

am I being too sappy? I dunno, I speak what's on my mind lol!!

as I said, it's noticeable that it's written with so so much love to the characters and this love is INFECTIOUS!! I didn't know I'd get attached to aka, so fast too. it's like my thought process was almost the same as teru's all the way through chapters 0-20 lmaoo

a small digression from the main topic - the thing is, what I wait for the most in tbhk is a flashback about terukane's first meeting & how the glasses were made. ofc there's always a possibility they were made by teru just for fun and as a way to make akane owe him (although this might be ooc) but the possibility of it is thankfully really really small because teru looks at them and handles the topic very gently. too gently for it to be just a forced prank. also akane has been keeping them with him on his bead near his head while sleeping (not even the bedside table or smth! who the hell keeps their glasses with them on the bed at night?? <- comes from a glasses person)

so, especially because of teru's wording ("he said he wanted to live his life like he used to"), I've been STRESSING over the possibility of akane BEGGING teru for help there, like what if he was struggling with switching forms at first and hence wasn't seen by students? what if the clock keepers didn't explain him almost anything about the supernatural world and so he was scared and confused? what if teru cornered him there and he had to prove he's human? (by the warmth of a touch?) what if he cried? what if teru comforted him? (or tried to lol) what if there were more struggles??

and so I was soo glad to see this topic being expanded!! I know it's an au and all (and the contract's gone worse here) but what I mean is, I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks about it!! reading akane's backstory was Painful As Heck but really Good.

my godd I wish the boy had some comfort. I can't look at ycit akane because I start tearing up immediately.

"I hope akane managed to use the bill" "I hope the seals helped at least a bit" I HOPE SO TOO. JESUS. THE POOR BOY WAS LEFT ALL ALONE WITH A TERRIFYING KNOWLEDGE AND THE TWO DIDN'T EVEN SAY GOODBYE TO EACH OTHER PROPERLY

and his backstory hasn't even been fully revealed yet. I feel like I'll die when that time comes. shaking

alright I don't wanna whine here too much now moving on-

this idiot. /affectionate

the attention to the smallest details!!!!

the amount of canon things implemented?? HELLO? I mean it's natural to expect a canon character act according to canon but it's the first time (I think??) I've noticed SO MUCH small facts THOUGHT THROUGH and carefully weaven into the fic to fit the narrative perfectly. sometimes they're really small and almost insignificant but it's like finding easter eggs!!! it fills me with so much joy to feel the love to the kids through the writing (I repeat it again ahahaha). teru's complicated (VERY MUCH SO) feelings towards his father, akane liking raspberry sweets, akane (and aka) liking when pride of a certain someone ( ^^ ) shatters in front of them and their facade falls, teru itching to jump headfirst into research as soon as there's a reason to mess with exorcist tools and invent something (oh I so adore this in canon I can probably ramble about this a lot), teru being eager to play in the snow, teru covering his face when he cries!!!! and that's just the things I remember right now THERE WAS A LOT MORE

it all makes me point at the screen with an "AH!!" expression and think "YES THAT'S MY BOY/GIRL!!"

YAKO AND TSUCHIGOMORI TOO!! I was so glad to see yako being involved so much and her character handled perfectly with all her traits and quirks and sillyness /affectionate hehe I love her so much and although tsuchigomori hasn't showed up as much, reading the scenes with him was a delight as well

also when I said about the passion, I meant not only the love to the fic's main cast, but also the passion to analyze the og medium itself as a whole. (am I making sense? I don't want to sound too creepy) explaining myself: take aka: his character, his quirks, his abilities, his drama, worries and experiences - for it all to be as deep and believable ( = excellent) as it is, it was necessary to take all the smallest bits about ghosts' and supernaturals' mindset we have in canon, be it hanako or sousuke or mitsuba etc, analyze it, and make aka one of their kind but still very much unique and closer to akane than to them, even though he doesn't remember being him. even if you didn't do what I said entirely on purpose, I'm just amazed by how aka is written. it's awesome

squeezes him.

thank you for being the extremely stubborn "leech" you are. mwah

aidairo sadly have given us very little info about exorcism and supernaturals in general (I'm biting the table as we speak) and the way you still took the crumbs, thought them through, added bits here and there, and made it all work perfectly is just amazing. I was overjoyed to read about mimics, other kinds of supernaturals, how spiritual energy feels, how touching a ghost feels in detail, weakening seals, blood pacts, boundaries, etc etc. it's like it's all canon, it doesn't make the reader question it whatsoever, so well-made. I'm clapping.

the description says you've never written a teru pov before and I'd say you nailed it from the very beginning!! you understand his mindset so deeply, reading your works is the best experience. the picky bitch in my ear never goes "he would not say that" and instead is just as amazed as I am

the first chapters before the bonding are HEAVY as heck. they're extremely hard to binge read but I mean this as a good thing. they're extremely painful by just how realistically they are written, so good you can't help but sync with teru and feel the same emotions as he does. And his life is SHIT at that moment so I was SUFFERING with him both the first and the second going through the chapters :'D again though, it's not bad, it's the opposite - it makes the happy moments thrice as good and the overall bonding brings A LOT of warmth. I feel like it healed me in a way after punching me in the stomach 10 chapters in a row

also I love it so much just how much the fic focuses on teru's everyday life before the manga's main plot. I mean, well yeah, it's a 14-15yo teru pov, but still. so detailed, filled me with warmth.

*slaps roof of ycit* this bad boy can fit SO MANY fun ideas and good concepts in it

seriously, the range is insane. a questionnaire, a quarrel (multiple), siblings talk, beach episode, dancing, hugging, both crying, possession?? hello?? BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE! summer festival, sleeping on the other, fighting for the other, fighting together, even working in food service together (aka the thing I'd expect out of a trkn fic the least lol). the list goes on. and despite how bizarre and random it sounds out of context, nothing from it feels like a filler, everything fits into the plot perfectly. I have no words mari how are you doing that

ever since I've read the bloodpact chapter, I was worried about how encounters with mimics will go from now on because now aka can go anywhere and, how it was stated before, aka's and a mimic's energy feel the same… the boys will need to come up with a strategy of some sort (which is tricky if mimics learn from the memories) ourghh makes my head hurt! but in a good way. or will mimics struggle picking a target between aka and teru now? what if they're weaker when faced by multiple opponents because of that? that would be fortunate. anyway! mimics leap at the target eventually, so that eases the task. and whether the boys encounter them or not, they will have each other's backs, and it warms my heart.

I've wanderend off the main topic again, oops. as you see, the fic made me think of all sorts of things lol and it's an incredibly good sign.

what if teru did take a picture of the swing set in ch13…..... ourghh I don't even know if it'd be better or worse...... it's over now though, so I'm glad either way

and ch27 has destroyed and rebuilt me several times I think .

I drew this before ch28 but then it came out and oh boy. I don't even know what to say. Good for them. so proud of them

I HAD SEVERAL SONGS FOR THIS but I don't want to make this too overwhelming so I've tried to pick the faves among faves (still kind of failed so . no pressure)

Bullet by Saint Motel (lyrics) for teruaka

The Song with Five Names a.k.a. Soapbox Tao a.k.a. Checkmate Atheists! a.k.a. Neospace Government (A.K.A. You Can Never Know) by Will Wood and the Tapeworms (lyrics) for aka - this one may be too extreme. it kinda clicked for me but I might be delusional

quiet room by ewe (has eng subtitles) for teruaka - makes me feel things similar to the ones 'therefore you and me' does

Yakusoku no Overture by Toki Shunichi (akane's VA hehe) - I haven't found a full version of this arrangement on youtube but it should be on spotify? or other streaming platforms I'm pretty sure? sadly, I've only found a russian translation (as unusual as it is lol) so I've tried to adapt it in english here, hope it looks right!

I might be delusional here sdslkds but what's certain is that I enjoyed the fic all the way from the start. thank you for creating this, truly

p.s.: please let me know if I made you in any way uncomfortable. I myself didn't expect to write so much; I only wanted to express my gratitude but this might be overwhelming. (I'm a very anxious person so I felt like I needed to say this sdskldj) you aren't obliged to respond in any way and this isn't me asking you to continue working on the fic. just saying thank you for the things you've made

that's it! wishing you a great day :)

#THIS DECEMBER I'LL REMEMBER WANT YOU TO SEE IT WHEN I DO UUUOURGHRHR #ok I'm normal #consider this an ao3 comment but uhh with pictures #jshk #tbhk #terukane #minamoto teru #aoi akane #go read ycit if you haven't

40 notes · View notes

blouisparadise · 2 days ago

Text

There were some amazing bottom Louis fics posted or completed during the month of January. We really hope you enjoy this list and show these fics love. Happy reading!

1) Lucky Number Nine | Not Rated | 2,706 words

“Elle, I only ever wanted to be two things when I got older, Hot as shit and a criminal.” “Why a criminal?” She asks. “Well, I-” Louis is cut off by a ping on his phone. He looks down at it and reads it. “Shit, Shit, Shit! Elle, hand me my bag please and spritz me. The car is here!” She does just that, giving him four spritz of their shared floral VS perfume. Louis leaves and walks downstairs to find a very nice and very expensive car. He smiles wide and gets in eagerly. The driver greets him and hands him a small bottle of Fireball. What?

2) I Miss You, I'm Sorry | Explicit | 2,871 words

Note: The main pairing is Louis/Zayn Malik.

Louis spends some time with zayn in his hotel room after his LA show. they smoke. they fuck.

3) What A Life We'd Have (I've Got So Much To Give) | Explicit | 3,610 words

They made a silly bet—really, it was ridiculous. Harry had bet Louis he couldn’t learn how to drive Delilah, his 18-wheeler because of the gear shift, so Louis bet him he couldn't learn how to give a good massage. The loser has to do the dishes and laundry for two weeks and well—here they are.

4) The Uni Party | Mature | 10,601 words

“What’s the point of going to a party sober?” he’d said earlier, tugging Harry by the hand into the kitchen of their flat. Harry had rolled his eyes, but he didn’t argue, watching as Louis lined up the tequila shots like he was about to take part in an Olympic event.

5) Time It Right, Ensure the Passage of Youth Bids Farewell | Mature | 12,202 words

Harry and Louis join a frat, and they are like, totally not into each other like that!

6) His Comet | Not Rated | 14,390 words

Everyone, and everything has an origin story; something that defined the way they are now, how they act, and the things they do. There's also an ending to every story, but what about the inbetween? The things in the middle that we don't know about?

7) Pathos | Mature | 26,566 words

In 1760s London, amidst the grandeur of gilded estates and the shadowy intrigues of high society, Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson are heirs to two of the city's most esteemed families. To the outside world, Harry and Louis present a complicated relationship-a bond that borders on disdain, peppered with moments of what could pass as brotherly camaraderie. Yet, behind closed doors, their connection defies the strict conventions of their world. Beneath the facade of disdain lies an undeniable bond, forbidden and fraught with danger.

8) Leave The Light On (I’m Coming Home) | Explicit | 42,793 words

In Louis’ twenty-two years of life, she had never questioned her sexuality. Up until now she had only ever been with boys and never had second thoughts about it. Although, nothing had ever given her a reason to. That is, until she met Harry.

9) Fragments of Forgotten Lives | Explicit | 160,960 words

Louis has been missing for over a year, but the first thing he remembers is waking up just a few weeks ago. Everything before that is a blur - no memory of where he’s been or who he was. Now, trying to rebuild his life in Manchester, he finds solace in therapy and a deepening connection with a fellow survivor. When Harry, a stranger to Louis but someone from his forgotten past, recognises him on the street, everything shifts. Despite the amnesia, something about Harry feels familiar, like a lifeline. As fragments of his lost memories begin to resurface in vivid, unsettling nightmares, Louis clings to the comfort Harry brings. Together, they embark on a journey to uncover the truth of his missing year, unlocking hidden secrets, unspoken bonds, and a past that refuses to stay buried.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

#blp fic recs #bottom louis #top harry #blp #fic recs #larry

45 notes · View notes

loquaciousquark · 1 day ago

Note

you have been my #1 favorite fanfic author of all time for like 7-8 years now for your fenhawke and ive always thought "god i would give anything for quark to write solavellan" but i respected that it wasnt your thing. so imagine the pure unbridled euphoria of checking in on your blog this week to see that he finally got to you. i actually screamed. whatever you come up with i know it is going to absolutely change my life and i am so excited <3

i’m so. sad. i'm SO sad. i was so happy for a decade just being mildly annoyed every time he crossed my dash and now i am having feelings and opinions and i don’t WANT THEM and the only way to get rid of them is to write them out of me, this is why i don’t love fenris or astarion at all anymore obviously

and like, I still don’t love Solas! I still think some things he does and some goals he has are really, really stupid! but this character I created to love him really loves him, and I really love her and want her to be happy even though she lives only inside my head, and that means I need to lay down some structure around her romance to get the shape of it, to build something I can make sense of. I may not love him, but I like him much more than I did, and I certainly understand him better than I did the first time around.

And to be honest, there’s a part of me glad I’m coming to it as late as I have. I don’t think I’ve ever read a single Solavellan fic in my life (I actually had to pause here to check the spelling). I have NO idea what tropes are popular with him or what interpretations are the biggest. I have a lot of opinions on how his personality and identity work in a romance with this particular character I’ve created, but because I’ve been so siloed I have no idea if I’m bucking the grain or not, which is fine by me.

Plus, it helps I’m not going to have ten years to build up a lot of personal headcanons and jossable thoughts before playing the new game. I’m not someone who easily ignores canon when it clashes with my imagination for the major things, so I think this will (hopefully) keep me from major disappointments.

It's kinda funny; earlier today I was going back through my DAI tag and reminding myself of all my impressions from the first time I played the game. Some of them I definitely still stand by; others have completely changed. I even said twice that a Lavellan/Solas romance would be my next playthrough, which was true if ten years late.

But it's things like: apparently the first time through I loved Solas and Sera, both of which certainly were not true going into this replay. (I barely even have a memory of Solas and Priory ever being in the party together, though the historical records say I took him to Adamant.) I apparently had a lot of hopes Gideon Emery would be voicing Fenris. I originally thought Priory was going to romance Bull, which is very ?????? after all this time. (I did still, even then, know Here Lies the Abyss completely broke her as a character, and ten years on I never could fix her for good.)

I really did not expect to change my mind on Solas going into this replay, I guess is the point. I replayed because knowing the story of DAI and Solas, I felt it was a story most personalized to elves and specifically a Solas-romancing Lavellan, and that was the worldstate I wanted to take into the new game. I played it out because that's the kind of person I am (I can't just invent characters wholesale in my head) but I really thought it was going to be a perfunctory playthrough as a stepping stone to a different game and a different PC and (presumably) a different romance. I didn't expect to love this character as much as I do, and even if I don't have ten years to write her out the way I did Hawke, I feel like I still owe it to her & her doomed romance to give her a little time in the spotlight. Lucky girl!

#quark replies #Anonymous #solas #solavellan #adahla lavellan #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #quark plays dai #also there are some tortuous mixed metaphors in here that i'm not going to fix #but i am sorry for them

49 notes · View notes

beomiracles · 2 days ago

Text

SQUEE I died reading this. I love love the first paragraph too, something about repeating the opening line and closing line will always do it for me !!

ahhh and beomgyu being attractive is like the whole point eheh, he's meant to be perceived as something esoteric almost, because that's how the reader comes to view him in time. but there also needs to be a sense of attractiveness for us to forgive him for all the shit he's about to pull us through lol

yeonjun as her senior just fits so well, I was debating on who to pick (even back in April last year) and he was the one that came to mind first.

AND YES THE LIPSTICK, it's like the star of the show for half of next tape-

anyway.

Beomgyu’s gaze soon flickers back to you, the smirk on his lips returning within seconds. “But you would know all about that wouldn’t you?” His eyes flash with underlying desire, “I went easy on you the first time.”

this paragraph is, too, one of my favourites !! it's almost the same as it was in the original version too because I could not part from it no matter how hard I tried.

and UGH don't even get me started on their first meeting. that shit is lethal territory good heavens. I like how she's cautious even though she ends up going with him due to her lack of better judgement.

squeee mixing past and present was like, the first thought I ever had for this fic, even without no plot last spring I knew that I wanted it to be switched around like this. I've tried to make the transitions as seamless as possible so you'll have to lay your verdict for tape 02, which is almost 10k...

anyway hehe thank you so so much for taking the time to not only read but send me such a detailed reblog sjjsjs it means the literal world to me !!

𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 TAPE 01

𝓓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝓔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 ⸝⸝ Moving rapidly through your career as one of the leading female investigators, you never once encountered a case you couldn't crack. Though you never expected for your past mistakes to come back and haunt you in the form of an ex lover, accused of murder. ⸝⸝

𝓹airings criminal!beomgyu x detective!reader 𝔀arnings blood, character death, descriptions of violence/slight gore, implied sexual encounters, womanizer!beomgyu, making out, penetrative sex, public sex, alcohol consumption.

📼 THE TAPE RECORDINGS

𝓣𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝓢𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 contains dark themes portraying unhealthy and toxic relationships and substance abuse. reader discretion is advised ! — this story is partly told in flashbacks, beware of timestamps as past/present are mixed throughout the story.

#serene adds ✎.. heh, realised after I hit post that I forgot to add a little note for myself on here. hmm... criminal conscience yes, I missed this series, a lot :3 super happy for it to be back, and better than ever !

[ ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။| TAPE 01 ] — Stay Away From Choi Beomgyu — recording length; 5.9k

📼 — April 5th 2023

It was cold. Your cheeks were wet, and whether that was from the rain pouring down on you, or the endless tears streaming down your face you didn’t know. But it was cold. It was dark too, awfully so. Yet you could clearly make out the image of him, his hunched over figure, his bloody hands moving without even the slightest tremble as they clenched and unclenched into fists. For a moment it looked like he wanted to reach out, to touch you.

The way you flinched, taking a quick step backward made him frown. “Dollface..” He tries, his voice uncharacteristically soft, the tension on his face easing up, if just for a moment. But you won’t hear it. Fuck, you could take the drugs, the lying and the cheating…Suppose you never were together in the end, not officially at least. — And you could take it. All of it.

This was different. This was… You glance between the blood on his shirt, down to his bruised knuckles. You knew what he’d done. Something truly unforgiving, something evil, inhumane. Beomgyu was a terrible person. For months you’d let yourself be blindsighted, too caught up on trying to fit him into the life you’d imagined, into a life that would never be his. Because that was not who he was.

You thought things would be different with you. That you somehow stood out from the rest, that maybe… Maybe he wasn’t as bad as people made him out to be. But you should’ve known. You should’ve known to stay away from Choi Beomgyu.

“You’re a monster.”

It happens before you can even stop it, the way the words fall from your quivering lips. Your voice is strained with the effort of keeping down another sob, and your breath comes out shaky with each exhale. — He doesn’t look surprised, in fact his expression remains perfectly unreadable, just like it always did. That hurts the most you think.

He takes a step forward, his shoes making a wet noise against the muddy ground. The rain makes his clothes cling to his body, his dark hair matted against his face, shielding his dark eyes from view until he pushes the strands back. — “C’mon dollface, we can work this out.” The once sweet nickname now made you feel sick. Butterflies no longer surged within your stomach, though, you’re not so sure that they ever had.

You shake your head, adamant in your decision as you swallow. “Stay away from me.” Even though your voice is close to cracking it seems to break his trance, and Beomgyu looks confused for the first time. It would’ve been an almost satisfactory sight, had it not been for your current situation. But one quick glance toward the blood smeared all over him makes you want to vomit.

“I never want to see you again.”

And you hoped you never would. With all of your heart and being you wished to never see Choi Beomgyu ever again.

⸝⸝

📼 — PRESENT TIME ; February 19th 2024

“Hello?”

Your words are followed by a thick silence and after almost twenty seconds you sigh. “Are you calling from downstairs again? You know the connection there is terrible.” Another minute passes, and you listen to the bruising noise of nothing for what feels like forever until Yeonjun’s voice finally breaks through on the device.

“Hello? Oh, there you are!” He sounds almost surprised over the fact that the line seemed to actually be working. “Yes, yes I know I shouldn’t be calling from down here, but the elevator’s broken..” — He clears his throat before rapidly continuing. “Alright, I’ve got someone for you, can you make it down to room 31 in ten?”

The groan passing your lips rings out into your office, bouncing off the walls and surely picking up on the phone despite the shitty connection. “Do you know what time it is? I’ve just barely made it here..” You grumble, yet you’re already rising from your chair, eager to be assigned a case from your senior.

Yeonjun hums and you hear the clicking sound of what you assumed to be a pen. “We’ve kept him detained all night, best to get going quickly so we can move him over this afternoon.” He sounds absentminded when he speaks, as if his attention was elsewhere, likely reading off of the file in his hands. Still, you frown at his words.

“Move him? To where, custody? How do you know we’ll have to do that?” Yeonjun doesn’t answer right away, which was unusual for him, and you pause with your hand on the door handle. — “I think it’s best you just come down here”, he then says, the finalisation in his tone evident. You bite the inside of your cheek, your mind suddenly swimming with questions you longed to ask. But you shrug them off, twisting the handle as you step outside.

“Alright, I’ll be there.”

The walk to the basement where the interrogations took place was an even longer one today. With no elevator you’re forced to stumble down four sets of stairs, silently vowing to yourself never to wear heels to work ever again.

Fishing through your pockets, you grab onto the first thing you come across. A small tube of red lipstick, the engravings on its container made your heart skip a beat as you recognized its origin. Oh. You thought you’d gotten rid of that.. But the small cosmetic seemed to have made it during your move not long ago. How odd.

The sound of your heels come to an abrupt halt as you stop to apply the red tint to your lips, using the camera on your far too old phone as a mirror. Despite its long history, the color remained just as bold as it had been when it was brand new. For some reason the revelation made your chest contract. — Screw it, you thought as you pushed the container back into the depths of your pocket. You would make sure to get rid of it on your way home. The past should remain the past, and for good reasons too.

Interrogation room 31 is by the very end of the hall. The lights here had yet to be switched out and some of them flickered in a most uncanny way, setting the scene for something akin to a horror movie. However your worries come to ease when you spot your senior outside the door. Leaning against the wall, Yeonjun pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose as his eyes remain glued to the files in front of him.

“Took you long enough”, he huffs without taking his eyes off the clipboard. You raise a threatening fist his way but lower it again with a small grin, “whatever.” Yeonjun cocks an eyebrow your way but doesn’t make an attempt to comment as he instead sighs. — “23 year old male, brought in yesterday around 1am..” He begins, his expression quickly schooling into a more professional one, and you’re instantly reminded of how he used to be when you trained under him.

He flips the paper, eyes dropping as he scans the written documents. “He’s in for first degree murder and attempted arson.” Shit, that’s serious. — “Are there any witnesses?” You ask, interrupting him when your curiosity gets the better of you. Though it would likely be far too soon to determine that. Yeonjun shakes his head, “None have come forward, besides it’s still too early to say.” You nod, heat rising on your cheeks at the small misstep.

“Then, how is he linked to the crime?”

Yeonjun’s eyes snap toward you upon hearing your words, his jaw twitching ever so slightly. “Victim’s DNA on him”, he says as he hands you the file belonging to the victim. Your gaze immediately falls on the number of pictures already gathered from the scene. From the blood covered floorboards to the discarded knife, the bloody bathtub and the victim himself.

“Park Baekhyun”, Yeonjun says as he points to the picture snapped of a man in his mid thirties. He was bruised from head to toe, his limp body awkwardly laid in the full tub. “34, male, cause of death was asphyxiation due to his head being held underwater for an extended period of time.”

Once he’s reached the end of his small debrief, your jaw hangs slack. Whoever did this had no intentions of sparing the poor man. And judging by the way the scene looked, they didn’t seem to ever have.

“Will you be alright with this one?” Your senior’s question pulls your attention from the files in your hand, and you quickly nod. “Of course!” This was your first big case, and there was no way you would back down now, not when an opportunity had presented itself like this.

Yeonjun leans over to unlock the door, his hand on the handle when he turns to you. “Remember I’m always-” — “On the other side of the glass, I know.” You finish with a small smile, and Yeonjun scoffs as he shakes his head.

Interrogation rooms are small, their walls stripped bare and sterile. With no windows and not even a clock to tell the time, the space feels nearly suffocating. A metal table is placed by the center of the room, adorned with scratches and uneven sections from its years of mistreatment. Above it hangs a single fluorescent light, casting the room in an almost clinical glow.

The man before you sits on one of the uncomfortable chairs, his head bowed and his cuffed hands resting on the table. His long dark hair shields his face from view, and you find your own gaze dropping to the files in your hands once more as you slide into the seat opposite him.

You clear your throat, the quietness of the room only amplifying the sound of you swallowing again. “You’re being investigated on the grounds of first degree murder of Park Baekhyun and attempted arson against his property. You have the right to remain silent and or request for an attorney. Keep in mind that anything you say here can be used against you in court.”

Exhale.

With a quick glance toward the thick glass window to your left, you allow yourself a momentary break. No matter how hard you squint, it was impossible to make out anything on the other side. But you knew that Yeonjun was watching, and it made everything ten times more surreal. — When you notice that the suspect has yet to speak, you turn your attention back to him.

He remains in front of you, with his head bowed as his fingers absentmindedly tap against the cool metal table. Your breath catches in your throat when you survey the dark rings adorning almost each and every one of his fingers, they looked oddly familiar. But before you have time to ponder the matter further, he lifts his gaze.

His dark hair falls from his face, making his equally dark eyes meet yours, instantly they seize you with a look you knew all too well. The persistent tapping of his fingers come to an abrupt halt as his lips curl into a menacing smirk, the one that used to make your stomach twist. In that moment, you knew that he knew. Still, you deny it, hands fervently flipping the files as you replace the victim’s with his.

Your heart plummets through the floor when your eyes land on the name, and suddenly it all makes sense. He was bound to end up in this room one day, you knew that, you had known that for a long time. You just… Had never imagined to be the one on the other side.

His smirk only widens, exposing the sharp and shiny teeth that had grazed your skin so many times before. A breathy laugh rumbles within his chest, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you, not once. He exhales with a short breath:

“Dollface. It’s been a while hasn’t it?”

The pet name makes an ice cold shiver crawl up your spine. You push down the insults waiting on your tongue, the months of resentment and the anger. Inhaling slowly, you remain perfectly still. He studies you close, dark eyes narrowing as he tilts his head to the side. It was as if he was trying to calculate your next move, you knew that he could.

“Beomgyu.” The name tastes foul in your mouth, making you want to spit it out. You thought you’d left him behind, left him for good. For ten months you had tried to recover from him, from everything he’d put you through. All of it for nothing. Now he was closer than ever, within an arm's reach, if you so wished to touch him.

His smirk only widened, he was enjoying this, you could tell it thrilled him. “In the flesh”, he says, his voice a low drawl as he drinks in your slightly bewildered expression. There were so many things you wanted to tell him, so many things you wished to get off your chest. But before you can even get a word out, the door to the interrogation room is slammed open.

You don’t have to look to know who it is. Yeonjun’s presence could be felt from miles away as he looms over you. “A word outside”, is all he says, before promptly turning on his heel and walking out again. — You don’t take your eyes off of Beomgyu when you rise to your feet, and the smirk on his face persists even when you exit the room.

“Alright, what’s going on?”

Your senior’s voice echoes down the vacant hallway and you wince at the accusation of his tone. How did you tell him, how did you come clean about the fact that you had history with the man currently detained and cuffed on the other side of the door. — Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you hesitantly chew on it as your eyes dart between the floor and the walls, anywhere but him.

“Well I… Sort of knew him..” The words come out awkward, and you grimace at the way you presented the situation. Yeonjun’s frown only deepens, the crease on his forehead becoming even more prominent. “Knew?” He presses, and you suddenly feel as if you were the one being interrogated. This was not how your first case was supposed to go.

“Well.. I haven’t seen him in a long time.” You press your lips into a thin line, forcing yourself into a more upright stance as you try your best at holding his gaze. — “How long?” Yeonjun counters, to which your heart sinks. How long has it been? You hardly kept track, for Choi Beomgyu was someone you longed to forget. “Ten months”, you finally say.

Your senior sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers as he bites the inside of his cheek. He remains quiet for a good minute and you anxiously fiddle with the hem of your sleeves, glancing over your shoulder to make sure that no one was witnessing the most embarrassing conversation taking place.

“I’ll take you off the case.”

No. He can’t do that, can he? Well he technically could. Still, it was an option you refused to consider. “No.” You promptly say, rolling your shoulders back once as you prepare to face his rejection. You didn’t know why your first thought was to refuse, why a pang shot through your chest at the idea of having the case go to someone else, but it did.

Selfish as you were, you thought you needed this case for your own gain. Whether it was to find some sort of closure for the way things ended, or perhaps even to satisfy your own curiosity. Either way, you knew that this case belonged to you. — “I’m confident that I can do this.” Your voice doesn’t waver, and your gaze is firm as you peer up at Yeonjun.

Your senior sighs, carding his fingers through his hair as he mutters something under his breath. “It’s against policy and I shouldn’t-” — “Please, Yeonjun.” You take a step forward, hopeful eyes silently pleading with him.

“I could be of great help, I’m certain of it, please just give me a chance.” — Yeonjun doesn’t look convinced, his dark brows furrowed as he glances between you and the shut door. Patiently you wait as he thinks to himself, your heart thrumming in your ears as you refuse the urge to beg him further.

Finally, he huffs, shaking his head once, as if in disbelief of himself. “Alright, but if I notice that things are getting out of hand you’re off, are we clear?”

Eagerly you nod, “Of course. Thank you, sir!” You catch the way he rolls his eyes, coughing slightly as he dismisses you with the wave of his hands. “Don’t act formal with me now”, he tsks, shooting you a small sideway glance. He reaches for the handle once more, holding the door open for you as you enter the suffocating interrogation room a second time that day.

The silence is deafening as you step back inside, the sound of the door clicking shut behind you echoing off the four confined walls. Beomgyu remains seated, mindlessly fiddling with the rings on his fingers, the cuffs around his wrists scraping against the metal table. — You force yourself to remain stoic as you approach once more, carefully taking your seat opposite him as you place your files down in front of you.

You clear your throat, ready to begin the initial interview when he suddenly speaks. “You look different.” He presents the statement causally as he leans back in his chair, it makes a squeaking noise at the action. Your heart pounds against your ribcage and you swallow as you hold his gaze. — “People change”, you say, your throat suddenly feeling dry.

Beomgyu shakes his head, his dark and piercing gaze trailing along your figure. “But you act the same.” His lips stretch into a menacing smirk and you have to force the memories of those very lips against your own and all over your body, out of your head. Focus. You couldn’t afford to be taken off the case.

“Last night”, you start off strong, your voice firm as you finally divert your attention from the files you’d been clinging onto, “You were present at Park Baekhyun’s property around 1am. What were you doing there?”

The smirk has yet to fall from his face and Beomgyu cocks an eyebrow your way as he lets go of the rings he’d been fiddling with. “Cleanin’ up a mess”, the nonchalant tone he used masks any hint of unease he might be experiencing.

“What kind of mess?”

A glimmer of mischief flashes across his almost black eyes, it was one you recognized. His tongue prods against the inside of his cheeks, his hands flat against the metal table. “Well certainly not the ones we used to make.” The mockery made your skin crawl and you fought back the insults surfacing as you clenched your jaw.

“Please refrain from straying off topic”, you say, your voice eerily calm. Beomgyu rolls his eyes, but doesn’t attempt to argue as he regards you with a bored expression. “One of my employee’s messed up”, he shrugs, “Fairly new to the job so I can’t really hold him accountable.” — You watch as his eyes flicker over to the window on his right, his gaze narrowing on the thick glass.

“You gotta go easy on the newbies”, he then adds without tearing his attention from the window. And even though he couldn’t see Yeonjun, he without a doubt knew that he was there. For a moment, it felt almost as if he was addressing your senior and not you.

He didn’t. Perhaps that was why you remembered your first encounter with Choi Beomgyu to this day.

⸝⸝

📼 — March 28th 2022

The floor thumps in rhythm to the loud bass that echoes from the DJ booth. Sweaty bodies are pressed against one another as people tear their way through the dancefloor. The fluorescent lights blind you as they flash from purple to blue to green and back to purple again. — Perched awkwardly on a high stool by the bar, you watch as the night unravels before you.

Clubs had never been your forte. Especially not during the weekends where they seemed to host a home for the whole city as everyone drank their day to day problems away. Your eyes scan for Kayla, she was the one who’d brought you here in the first place. After listening to her persistent whining for almost an hour you had finally caved, but at what cost?

As soon as your coats had been left, she’d darted for the dancefloor, not as much as a second thought about you as she searched for her next victim. You shouldn’t even be surprised anymore, it was in her nature honestly.

You’ve already emptied two glasses, and now you’re tapping the cool rim against your lips as you aimlessly peer out over the crowd. The idea of another drink enticed you, but your wallet strongly disagreed with that idea, thus you were left far too sober for your own liking as you avoided any attempts at socialising. You weren’t here to make friends, much less fuck around.

It was then, in the midst of a heavy sigh, that your eyes fell on him. Back then you hadn’t known his name, you hadn’t known anything of what was to come. Your first thought was that he wasn’t your type. And you wanted to leave it at that, to let your eyes continue their endless roam and forget about him, but you couldn’t.

Your gaze clung to him as it trailed along his dark and long hair, perfectly framing his sharp features. Then to the half-hearted smirk he wore, to his dark clothes and the black rings around almost each and every one of his fingers. And then finally to his eyes, darker and all the more menacing than the rest of him, they seemed to glow under the neon lights.

For some reason, he was looking at you too. Despite the two half-naked girls draped over him, their hands insistently clawing at every part of him they could access, undoubtedly whispering beyond filthy shit in his ears with sickeningly sweet giggles. — Why was he looking at you?

He wasn't alone, far from it. The small booth he occupied held, not only him and the two girls, but at least three other guys as well, all wearing the same brooding expressions. You should look away, pretend like you’d never seen him in the first place, but the longer you stared at him, and the longer he stared back, it became increasingly more difficult.

His smirk widens when he brings his glass to his lips, and over the rim you catch the sly wink he sends you. Your heart stumbles over its next beat, your own glass stuttering against your chin as you grip it tighter.

It wasn’t like you weren’t used to getting hit on, or even subtly flirted with. But there was something undeniably different about this man. Despite your earlier complaints on your sobriety, you suddenly felt intoxicated in a way you never had before.

And so you did the only reasonable thing left to do. You winked back.

He chuckles, even though you’re unable to hear it, you can see it in the way his chest rises and falls. His ring clad hand slides along the thigh of one of the girls, who giggled as she leaned in to kiss his neck. He seemed to pay her little mind, those same dark eyes still fixed on you..

“Don’t even think about it.”

Kayla’s voice is sharp, and it snaps your attention from the stranger and over to your friend as she takes the seat next to yours. Slouched over the bar, she orders herself a glass of water which she begins gulping down. — “What?” You question as you watch her wipe her lips.

“That guy, the one you were eyeing”, she points in the direction of the man you’d just been gawking at, “He’s no good.” She gives a firm nod, glass gripped tightly in her hand as she peers down at the liquid floating around. — “How’d you know?” You scoff as you, too, turn back to the bar. Perhaps she was jealous of you succeeding in finding someone when she wasn’t, it wouldn’t be a first.

But Kayla only huffs, her nails tapping against the glass as she purses her lips. “Only uses women for his own personal gain and pleasure, you’ll get hurt.”

“What if I only seek pleasure?” That was a lie, because you didn’t, far from it. You were nothing like Kayla, at least you liked to think you weren’t. —- “Then I suggest you seek it elsewhere, I meant what I said, he’s bad news.”

“How do you know that?”

Her knowledge about this stranger intrigued you. Had she hooked up with him before and got jealous by the possibility of you doing the same? Had he rejected her?

Kayla sighs, her expression taking on an almost melancholic form as she sets her glass down. “Do you remember Shay?” She suddenly asks and you frown, confused by the mention of her old friend. “Yeah? You haven’t mentioned her in a while, did something happen?”

Your friend snorts, throwing a glance over her shoulder as she nods toward the man by the booth. “Yeah, he did. – One night she’s off with him, next time I see her is two weeks later, drugged out of her fucking mind and unable to stand on her own goddamn legs.” A visible shiver runs down Kayla's spine as she recalls the events in her head.

Turning back to the counter, she picks up her glass, “Besides, I’ve never seen him with the same woman twice.” With that, she downs the remaining water before pushing the now empty glass away. — “Better to try your luck on the dancefloor, hm?” She suggests as she attempts to pull you along.

“I’m fine here.” You give her a small smile, watching as she nods before turning to disappear through the thick crowd.

As much as you tried to keep your gaze from wandering, it somehow ended up by that godforsaken booth yet again. Except this time, the man seemed far too busy to spare your hopeless stares as much as a second glance. One of the girls had crawled onto his lap, shielding most of his face from view as she pressed her lips to his.

His fingers squeezed around her hips before his hands traveled down the curve of her ass, barely covered by the ridiculously short skirt she wore. — They only broke apart for him to mutter something to one of the others present, their following laughter almost overpowering the loud music.

With a small grimace you finally tear your gaze from the sight, slumping back against the bar with a tired sigh. This night seemed to drag on forever. Perhaps you could call a cab home, Kayla would probably want to stay at least another two hours, something that you weren’t quite feeling.

You brace your hands on the countertop with the intention of heaving yourself from your chair and search for your friend when the bartender suddenly catches your attention. Wordlessly he places a drink in front of you, making your head jerk up as you give him a confused look. “I didn’t order–”

“Booth 12”, he nodded to somewhere behind you but you hardly needed to turn around to know where this drink had come from. With your heart in your throat, you take the cool glass, eyeing the pinkish hue of the contents that swirled around the ice cubes. Why had he bought you this? Hesitantly you bring the glass to your lips, taking a small sip as you let the liquid slip down your throat.

It tasted sweet, and you quickly found yourself going back for more. But hadn’t he been busy just a few moments ago.. Perhaps you’d read him wrong. — Suppose you could finish this drink and then head home. But you can barely get as much as another sip in before the seat next to yours becomes occupied.

Through the corner of your eye you can easily make out his long dark hair, the faint smirk on his lips as he clasps his hands on the counter in front of him. For a moment, there’s an awkward silence hanging over the two of you. He doesn’t say anything as he gazes ahead, part of you wondered if he’d even come here with the intention of talking to you at all.

You take another sip of your drink, desperate for the liquor to take effect. The man shifts in his seat, and you feel as though you were on fire when his head turns in your direction. Even with no words he managed to make your heart beat in a frenzy as you clutched your glass tightly.

His dark and piercing gaze is unforgiving as it roams your figure, undoubtedly lingering where it shouldn’t. It was like he knew no shame. You should’ve told him off, you should’ve gotten up and left. For some reason you find yourself staring at him with equally invading eyes.

“I haven’t seen you here before.”

It’s the first time he speaks, his head falling to the side as he studies you. “You new around town?” His voice is smooth, clean of any stuttering or awkwardness. A small part of you envied how easily he seemed to be carrying himself. — You shake your head, “No.”

The man raises an eyebrow, and you don’t stop him when he reaches for your drink. The rings around his fingers make a clanking sound against the glass as he takes it and brings it to his lips. “Then what? Not your crowd?” He asks before taking a sip, his eyes never leaving you.

“No, I suppose not..” You gingerly admit, not wanting to highlight the fact that you were completely out of your element. But judging by the way he looked at you, his silent demeanor practically eating you alive, he probably knew that already. — He places your glass back down, gently pushing it back your way as he wordlessly encourages you to drink more. You don’t know why you oblige.

He takes the opportunity of you sipping on your drink to introduce himself. “Choi Beomgyu”, he says, the smirk on his lips widening as he does. The name fit him, oddly enough. Perhaps it was a bad idea to give out your own name. He was a stranger, not to mention one that Kayla had specifically warned you about not long ago. Still, this man intrigued you beyond limits..

Beomgyu, as his name was, suddenly leaned closer and you could almost smell the liquor on his breath. “Come on dollface, you must have a name?” The nickname he so casually dropped made your stomach flip. — You tell yourself that this was just a game of his. Taking Kayla’s words into consideration, not to mention the fact that he had girls draped over him minutes ago, this wasn’t the first time he chatted someone up. You would not make a fool of yourself and fall for such cheap tricks.

He’s silent as he waits for you to answer, but when you merely avoid his gaze and sip on your drink, he chuckles. The laugh is pulled from deep within his chest and it sounds raspy when it rolls off his tongue. Beomgyu leans back, running a hand leisurely through his long hair. “Hard to charm I see.”

You don’t answer, but you can’t help but watch as he rests his elbows against the bartop, his finger dragging just below his bottom lip as he regards you with intrigue. — “Not your type?” You retort, your response coming out somewhat short. It was hard to fathom any reasoning behind his strange interest in you.

“Far from it”, Beomgyu hums, though his glimmering eyes betray the words coming out of his mouth. The lower half of his face pulls into a lopsided grin, “But I’m not opposed to trying new things.”

Your first instinct was to scoff, to tell him to fuck off back to wherever he’d emerged from. It’s strange. You find yourself completely unable to. Instead you push your nearly finished drink toward him once more, and Beomgyu takes it as he brings it to his lips. — If he wasn’t opposed to trying new things, then who says you weren’t either?”

“Tell me your name.”

His breath is hot on your neck, coming in short pants as he slams his hips against yours. The alleway is dark and vacant, shielding the two of you from prying eyes. Shoved against the brick wall, you’re pliant in his grasp as Beomgyu’s hands roam your body. With your skirt pushed high above your hips, the metal of his rings feel cool against your thighs as his fingers dig into your soft flesh.

Was this a good idea? — It didn’t matter. Your nails rake along his shoulders, pulling him impossibly close. Beomgyu chuckles against the crock of your neck, his lips leaving sloppy kisses over your skin, pulling it between his teeth.

This was so unlike anything you’d ever done before. Not that you were a prude, or anything of the sort. But something like this, in a place like this, where anyone could walk by and with a mere stranger no less.. Whatever. You figured he was just another promiscuous man with no other intentions than the last. You would use it to your advantage tonight, or at least so you thought.

But for every kiss he placed against your body, for every quiet whisper of praise that slipped from his tongue, you found yourself slowly losing your last semblance of control. Beomgyu was not like any of your previous partners, he was new, exciting, exotic even. Something you’d never had before, and now that you’d gotten a small taste, you felt far from satisfied.

Why did he want to know your name? Why did it matter if you were to never see one another after tonight? Still, his silent request is made clear when he presses your lips together in a feverish kiss. You gasp out at the feeling of his hard cock as it buries inside of your aching cunt, your thighs trembling as they remain wrapped around his waist.

“Dollface”, he exhales into the kiss, his mouth warm and wet against yours. And when he pulls back for air, your dazed eyes meet his as you brace your hands on his chest. Licking your lips, you inhale slowly before finally giving out your name, your most vulnerable piece of information.

He smirks, clearly thrilled by the admission. For a split second you wondered if you’d done the right thing. Perhaps it had all been one grave mistake. If it was, you weren’t given time to ponder it as he reconnets your lips, this time with a passion unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

And that was exactly how you became infatuated with Choi Beomgyu.

taglist ✎... @liaatiny @izzyy-stuff @heeambi @saejinniestar @hyunelixbun @lunesdesire @n0-thisispatrick @lickingan0rchid @tyunderella @fancypeacepersona @hyunj00 @hwang-choon @soohashits @xylatox @lilbrorufr @ezeert @minji-willstay @yeoningz @beombunni @lickingan0rchid @buttrry @buttercreamerie @bangtanuniversa @dawngyu @shuichi-sama @sthwaaberry @leeminhosairfryer @v1shwa-xo @qeeun-didi @biteyoubiteme @alex-is-sleeping

(if your tag is not working please check your settings to make sure that your blog is not hidden!)

#so so many kisses !!#criminal conscience beomiracles

246 notes · View notes

tpwk-formula1 · 2 days ago

Note

Hypnotism and Himbofication that leads to Face Fucking by paul aron (mlm plz)

‐🍑

AN: AHHHH! This is the first official MxM I am adding to my blog other than in threesomes and I am so excited! I have seen you sending in requests and I'm so glad I can fulfill this one so soon! If anyone has any advice on how to make a better mlm fic please don't hesitate to message me!

I am warning you right now... Your girl has no idea how to hypnotize someone so please just ignore that if it's completely wrong... just read for enjoyment not life lessons!

TW: MDNI 18+ Hypnosis. Himbofication

WC: 1K

Y/N POV

"Come on Paul, this a stupid idea," I say while allowing my body to relax into the couch.

"Just believe it'll work!" Paul says while pinching my inner thigh clearly annoyed with my negative attitude.

For the next hour I allow myself to relax into Paul's words and hypnosis technics he had learned while doing 'extensive' research. I'm not entirely sure but I follow along with the words he's been saying.

Paul's POV

I watch as Y/N start to relax his body into my words. I briefly mentioned the idea to him awhile ago and when he kind of laughed the idea off I decided to do some more research and after months I finally feel comfortable in my abilities.

When I finally put Y/N into a haze I do a few tests to see if I have officially put him into his trance.

"When you wake up every time I clap my hands you'll be on your knees begging for me," I say being serious but also still not fully convinced this would work.

Y/N POV

It's been a few days since Paul did his hypnosis and I haven't noticed anything different which just kind of makes me laugh knowing I was right this whole time.

When we are sitting on the couch relaxing for the night Paul claps his hands a few times and before I can even question it I'm instantly moving my body onto my knees and in-between his thighs.

"Such a good boy," Paul says with a small smirk playing on his lips. I instantly start tugging and pawing at the crotch of his sweats trying to free his already hardening cock.

"Please," I whine when I notice Paul isn't helping me get to his hard cock.

"Paul, please," I whine further tugging a bit harder at the waistband of the sweats.

When Paul finally shifts his hips letting me pull his sweats down I take it as my chance to pull his boxers down as well. When his hard cock springs free I instantly grasp his cock into my hand making him hiss at the contact.

I look up at him waiting for him to give me permission and as soon as he nods his head in approve I'm instantly pull his hardening cock into my mouth moaning as soon as his tip touches my tongue.

When I look up to to find Paul's eyes I can see him already watching me with a soft smirk playing on his lips.

"Being such a good boy for me," Paul comments making me whimper under his praise before I pull more of his cock into my mouth feeling the tip of his cock hit the back of my throat making me gag slightly.

I start bobbing my head while using my hand on the rest of his length. The more I get into it the more I'm losing myself in giving Paul pleasure.

"Come here," Paul grunts out while tugging my hair trying to pull me up.

"No," I whine trying to pull my head down in a weak attempt to keep my mouth around his cock.

"Wanna keep being my good boy," Paul asks in a stern voice making he look up at him with a soft whimper.

"Come ride me," Paul tells me while giving my hair one final tug bringing me up to my feet and letting him help me pull my clothes off.

Once I was naked I instantly climb into Paul's lap clinging myself to his neck almost instantly.

"What's got you so needy?" Paul teases while he uses two of his fingers to tease my ass.

"More," I gasp when he pushes his two fingers all the way into my ass trying to prep me to take his cock.

"Been such a good boy for me," Paul comments while slowly starting to fuck my ass with his fingers.

"Paul, please, want you to fuck me," I whine while jerking his cock faster trying to pull myself further into his lap so I can line his cock up with my needy hole.

"What's gotten into you?" Paul teases while pulling his finger from my ass and helping me line his throbbing cock up with my greedy ass before letting me sink down on his cock with a whimper falling from my lips.

"So good," I cry when I feel my ass bottom out on his cock. When I slowly start rocking my hips trying to build a rythem I feel Paul's hand wrap around my hard cock giving it a soft jerk.

"Fuck," I cry out in a loud whimper feeling Paul slowly start to build pace with his jerking as I build pace in riding his cock.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I cry in a broke chant feeling myself crawling closer and closer to my release.

"Gonna cum for me?" Paul asks in a teasing voice while he speeds up his motions on my cock making me cry out feeling myself close to falling over the edge.

"Please," I whimper while clenching my ass around his cock trying to coax him closer to the edge so we can cum together.

"Cum for me," Paul grunts while fucking his hips up into my ass harder throwing me over the edge almost instantly cumming all over both Paul and I's bare chests, while I feel his cock twitch in my ass before I start to feel him spill his cum deep into my ass.

"Fuck!" Paul grunts out as his hips tense and relax a few more times as he is fucking us through our orgasms.

Paul dips a fingers into my cum that's coating his lower belly before offering me a taste. As soon as my lips are wrapped around his finger he pulls his finger out of my mouth and tugs me down to place a chaste kiss on my lips.

"Such a good boy for me," Paul whisper into my ear making me moan softly under the praise.

-----

The end!

I did my best... I definitely need to work on bimbofication/ himbofication but for the first time I'm proud of the subtleness I brought to the story! I really hope you enjoy and PLEASE keep on requesting! I'm having so much fun with these.

42 notes · View notes

maukree · 11 hours ago

Text

So, I did a deep dive into WinterIron circa 616 like (not) a total asshole—because I fully recognize that writing a hyper-specific, canonically obsessive fic about Tony and Bucky in the Marvel 616 comicverse and expecting MCU-only fans to keep up without at least a "the fuck kind of AU is this?" head scratch is a bit of a dick move. And here we are. Comics fucking deliver. I promise. But do you actually need to read them all to get and enjoy what happens in any 616 fic you come across? Nah. Honestly. You don’t have to (unless you want to, in which case, welcome to the abyss) to get through the basics. FYI, this isn’t an all-encompassing timeline of Tony and Bucky in comic books—because I don’t have a year, and you don’t have all day. Their individual stories don’t start with Civil War (which, by the way, actually deserves to be called a 'war' in 616) or end with Fear Itself. But I’m covering their key arcs—picking and choosing shit as I please that I felt was relevant through my winteriron goggles—from Captain America: Out of Time (Bucky’s baggage) and Invincible Iron Man: Extremis (Tony’s baggage), through the pre-Civil War mess, the war itself, the aftermath, their intersections, and then stopping at Fear Itself—because I respect my own need to occasionally shower or something. Anyhow, if this pops off and everyone suddenly decides to start reading comics… sure. Hit me up for more. But even if that’s not happening, feel free to click that Keep Reading button for Part 1 and appreciate my ability to cram years of comic book history into an image limit. I was even nice enough to find you some links if you want to give it a proper shot and read comic books (oh, and that Marvel Unlimited subscription they have for reading comics fucking slaps, just saying. And no, they are not paying me to say it): *links direct to marvel.com, but don't click there yet, obviously. The Invincible Iron Man (2004–2007) Captain America (2004–2011) Invincible Iron Man (2008–2012) Fear Itself (2010–2011) If you read this part you will know where Tony, Bucky and Steve are just before 616 Civil War properly kicks off.

You clicked! I am so sorry for how long this is. Force-quit the app to escape it at any stage. The images are after each plot arc and I am in love with the endless scroll Tumblr does to accommodate so much visual content. So, the way I look at it, for me it really begins around the Invincible Iron Man: Extremis time, when they kicked off the The Invincible Iron Man (2004–2007) series, so lets get that shit out of the way. Not that it’s shit, but Tony’s definitely not having a good time. (And no, it’s not because Bucky killed his parents—didn’t happen in the comics—nor because he suspected his bestie Steve was about to start a rival gang just to flex at an airport for 4.5 seconds and call it a “war”.) Anyway, the point is: MCU canon ≠ 616 canon. The Marvel 616 comicverse is the gift that keeps on giving to the MCU, which picks and chooses what it likes (the rant is over in 3, 2, 1... since I adore MCU.) So, before Tony ever crosses paths with his (hypothetical, not actually canon there either) man-love Bucky in comic books I've mentioned above, here’s what’s happening with him. Extremis: #1-6 When this starts off, Tony has been out there in the comicverse pretending to be the boss of Iron Man for ages—like, “Oh yeah, I totally just fund this guy/bodyguard and lend him to S.H.I.E.L.D. and Avengers occasionally”. Incidentally, he was actually stuck wearing the Iron Man chest plate to stay alive for a while before that, and has complex relationship with his suit and with his ability to look at himself in the mirror. He is working himself half-dead in his garage to the background of folks hating on Stark for military contracts that he uses to fund other projects. It’s an awesome 6 comic books arc, but the gist is that a shady biohacker named Maya Hansen (Tony’s ex, because of course she is) and her equally shady colleague Aldrich Killian (yes, that guy, but way less Mandarin cosplay this time and he does peace out very quickly) cook up Extremis—a next-gen super-soldier serum for US government, yup. Maya wants to cure cancer or something, but lacks money (hence working for the military for now), the government stops paying for her program and she decides to hit Tony up, lies her ass off, and sets someone on him for show to demonstrate to the powers that be that her biotech is just this good and can take down the most advanced armor in the world (aka, Tony's shit.) Tony gets his ass absolutely handed to him by a poster child for domestic terrorism juiced up on Extremis, since Maya's shit is the bomb. His suit has been getting more and more clunky as he makes it more powerful, he can't react in it fast enough, gets very squashed under a car, breaks himself a lot, has a mid-life crisis, and decides, “Screw it, let’s put that nightmare fuel in me instead so I can chat to my tin can better and really lean into the whole Iron Man thing. Fixing all these bones I am just after breaking and a ton of internal damage wouldn't hurt either.” Maya's down to help, since Tony might've been a good fuck, and she fancies herself to be a good person, so Tony makes some modifications to how Extremis works and it... works. Fixes him right up with the promise of growing new organs should they need to be grown, makes him faster, stronger, able to mentally pilot the suit with a thought, effortlessly connect to tech using his mind and even form his under suit (flight suit) over his body and … officially way too powerful for his own good.

Execute Program: #1-6 Or, as I like to call it, “That one time Tony’s own tech betrayed him and he went, ‘Okay, maybe we do need some rules.’” This starts fresh off Tony’s Extremis glow-up, and he’s doing what he does best: building way too many suits (sooo many kickass suits called argonauts), fighting bad guys, and making Fury and the Avengers increasingly suspicious because he keeps being late to shit. (Sorry, guys, he’s busy being a futurist, obviously, and frankly, he’s kicking almost too much ass.) To be fair, their paranoia is kinda justified, since Tony’s brain is getting hacked by Yinsen’s son (huge angsty point for Tony for not saving him), who is hijacking his entire nervous system using the tech Yinsen originally implanted into Tony for the Taliban—right before waking him up and going, “Hi, you owe me your life.” So, the basic plot of Execute Program is that Tony starts assassinating some high-profile assholes responsible for Yinsen’s death—all without knowing it. For a while he's convinced it's not him and makes a big deal about it with Fury but eventually even he can't deny it, at which point Tony hits existential crisis #872, is very unhappy about being mind-fucked, and ‘paroles’ Maya out of jail by blowing a hole in a wall to see if his former gal-love will help him deal with it. At the end of this arc he manages to break free of the programming and survive, but his suits do a fuck ton of damage in the process, and he's now officially realizing that he’s become a walking, government-grade security risk—just because of how awesome he is. To quote him: “Every superhero is a potential gun (whether they act on their own or not), and last time I checked, guns require registration.” Now, this whole arc is meant to explain why Tony is firmly on the pro-registration side when Civil War rolls into town. It's a stretch, but some other shit leads up to Civil War and the 'need' for registration, but this is sorta where he's mind is at, and this is where we leave him for now before Civil War kicks into gear. P.S. Some multi-ship snacks from 'Execute Program', because 616 contains multitudes: Spidershield: Spider-Man (Avenger-adjacent, menace-certified) casually calls Cap cute during a mission while hovering over him within kissing distance. Starker / IronDad: during the same mission, Tony loses his absolute shit when Peter gets hurt and goes feral. Stony: Look, 616 is basically the Tony & Steve Show—but if you need specifics, there’s always that time at the end of this arc when Tony dramatically knocks himself out by shocking his own heart (thinking it would kill him) to stop Cap from getting obliterated by his own rogue suits. Because, you know. Normal super hero behavior.

Alright, so we’re leaving Tony where he is—on the pro-registration side, deep in his own moral and existential mess (I’ll unpack what the story is with registration more later, in the next part, because hoo boy). But now, let’s talk about Bucky. Because, wow, a lot is going on with Bucky around this time, though it's completely unnecessary to know exactly when this happens, since comic books tend to constantly contradict each other and forget some canon-points exist (on this note, Tony is actually hella tall in comic books, and he's mostly drawn with blue eyes, although sometimes it's brown eyes due to the coloring and Bucky's mostly drawn with very dark eyes, and the blue eyes is really more of a Sebastian Stan thing, for which he love him for. On another unrelated note, Dum Dum Dugan is alive and kicking and working with S.H.I.E.L.D, but it's neither here or there. I digress.) At this stage, Bucky and Tony haven’t officially ‘met’ yet, but Tony is vaguely aware of his existence, mostly as Steve's long-dead-but-actually-not-dead ex-partner/sidekick who has been doing Very Concerning Things in the shadows. And, to be fair, the dude has been busy too. So yeah, while Tony is spiraling about accountability and unchecked power, Bucky's been out there being the literal embodiment of both, working against his will for some VERY bad guys. Since Bucky is all about Steve and his storyline, he initially pop-ups in the Captain America (2004–2011), so let's talk about Steve and his feelings for a bit. Steve... has a lot of feelings by the way, so for all of your Stucky shippers, this is the comic book to read.

Captain America: Out of Time #1-6 Aka “Steve has a lot of feelings™ while occasionally punching things and still finds time for his complicated love life.” So, Out of Time starts off with Steve being… well, Steve. Which means brooding way too hard about war, his place in the world (as Captain America—again—it’s more of a title and a suit in comics, kinda, though he is the OG), and whether punching Nazis in the ’40s was somehow easier than dealing with modern geopolitics. He’s having flashbacks galore—about Bucky, WWII, and the several times he’s watched people he loves die (if you take a shot every time he stares sadly into the distance and remembers shit, you’ll be wasted by page 4). At the beginning of this run, he’s mostly juggling personal life + professional trauma, spending quality time with his ex (*Nick Fury, who he technically broke up with in the ’90s, but we don’t talk about it—Marvel also wishes those issues didn’t exist. Looking at you, Fury #1-4 (1994) and his actual ex-but-still-kind-of-current love interest, Sharon Carter (S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent 13, absolute badass, we love her). Meanwhile, in the Villain Corner, Bucky is currently in deep-freeze, and Red Skull is trying to buy him (for evil purposes, obviously). But Winter Soldier is way too useful to his current owner, who calls him an ‘item’ (it’s all very gutting and transactional), and Red Skull isn’t willing to part with the Cosmic Cube (important-for-plot-reasons, reality-warping bullshit in a box)—not even for the privilege of having a brainwashed supersoldier on his payroll. Which turns out to be a bad call for Red Skull, because Bucky gets defrosted anyway and immediately blows his brains out (Winter Soldier: 1, Red Skull: 0), since his current owner wants the Cosmic Cube, and Bucky is an incredibly efficient, very sexy, and deeply tragic murder machine who follows orders. [Unlike his silent MCU counterpart, 616 Winter Soldier is chatty (ish). He’s brainwashed, yeah, but he talks, makes decisions, occasionally argues over tactics, but you can tell there’s a mind-fuckery hellscape happening behind the scenes. But he is also aware, somewhat, which is the point. Sure, he’s traumatized as hell, but in a very “this is my job, and I do it” way. He has conversations, meaning that once they fix him later, it’s less about split personality and more about remembering who he was. (Which, you know, brings a whole new level of pain to this. Yummy, yummy angst.) Quick sidenote: Bucky is younger than Steve in the comics (an army brat/orphan), and he was basically groomed (yup…) into being Cap’s teenage sidekick—gun, mask, and all—at 16.] So, all of this is happening, with Bucky out and about causing trouble, while Steve is busy having a ton of dreams about him (not the sexy kind, unfortunately—more blood and gore), which turn out to be foreshadowing (shock). Long story short, Bucky kidnaps Sharon (not for relationshippy reasons, let’s be clear), and at the moment Steve gets Sharon back and Bucky seriously considers gunning him down, it finally clicks for Steve—Bucky is alive. Steve makes a face (there you are, the real love of my life—awwww ignore me), Bucky still considers gunning him down, but the confrontation doesn’t actually happen since it’s all about the feels at this stage and the mission to save Bucky.

Captain America: Winter Soldier #1-6 In which Steve goes on a manic quest to find his buddy, Tony is devastated about capitalism, and Bucky has an identity crisis before running off to be broody and sexy somewhere else. This arc is packed. Like, really packed. Coming off the world-shattering realization that Bucky (war buddy, partner-in-justice and emotional crutch)—is alive and well (ish), Steve is a bit shook. He did actually call him “Bucky?” during that initial meet, to which Bucky, of course, replied with the iconic “Who the hell is Bucky?”—delivering both an emotional orgasm for any Stucky shippers and an immediate MCU meme template. And yet—this is the best part for me, lol—despite literally calling him Bucky, Steve proceeds to not actually believe it after it happens. Fury has to wave stacks of receipts in his face for ages (“Here’s a ton of proof that your bestie has been a brainwashed, undying assassin for decades.”) before Steve finally believes, rejoices, gets upset and very conflicted, but then goes absolutely bananas trying to find him. And because Fury is nothing if not dramatic, Steve gets a whole-ass file on Winter Soldier lore conveniently dropped at his place—and let me tell you, this thing is THICK. Pages upon pages of experiments, war crimes, and Bucky being terrifying as the Winter Soldier. It’s delicious, I want it on my wall. At this stage we have the first official Tony & Bucky intersection. Steve and Sam (still called Falcon, professional bird enthusiast, talks to them and everything) need help tracking down the Cosmic Cube, which Bucky currently has. And Tony is an absolute legend who helps them do it. Despite actively running a multi-billion dollar empire, Tony stops everything to help them track down Bucky and the Cube. But—massive conflict of interest incoming—the location they need to attack is a bit of a problem (understatement) because Tony’s company is in trouble if he goes with them. So Tony, looking like he wants to die inside (he really does, see the images), provides Steve and Sam with his jet and all the resources they need but ultimately can’t go. And you can tell he’s real cut up about it. You can. I can. Everyone can. Though at this stage he obviously doesn't know Bucky, but... it's all in the details. Anyhow, because Iron Man team-up isn’t happening for this specific epic quest to save Bucky, Steve and Sam go in alone (Sharon with S.H.I.E.L.D. at their heels and all), find Bucky, and then it’s ON. And when I say on, I mean full-blown, action-packed, ridiculously cool fight scene with Steve throwing hands and heartfelt speeches, and Bucky countering with kicks and emotional repression. Steve desperately tries to break through to Bucky, reminding him who he is, but Bucky is having none of it. (He’s definitely feeling something, though, because he’s looking a little too emotional.) [Here’s the thing: Bucky has surfaced before? The people controlling him even kept records saying not to send him on long-term missions too close to home, because when they did he tried to escape. The memories are still there, buried deep under decades of trauma, brainwashing, and whatever the hell Russian winter does to a man.]

They fight. Fight some more. And Steve pulls the ultimate “If you don’t remember me, kill me” move. At which point Bucky absolutely tries. (And I love myself a consistent man.) During the fight, however, Steve gets his manly hands on the Cosmic Cube, which, being the overpowered reality-warping bullshit box that it is, does what it was written into the comic book to do in the first place: it restores Bucky’s memories. WHOOP. Except… Bucky remembers EVERYTHING. And, uh, that’s a lot. And seems very traumatic and painful. An absolute mental overload, horror, and a whole lot of “I should be dead” vibes. Steve is hopeful, trying to reassure him, but Bucky is noping the fuck out. He's not doing well, immediately spirals into guilt, and decides the best course of action is to disappear. Which he does by fucking off to brood alone. Far away. In a sexy, tortured assassin way. My favorite six issues of Captain America pre-Civil War, hands down. There was some other shit in between Out of Time and Winter Soldier, some bad guy plays and all, some stuff about mutant registration, but I’ll get to that a bit later, in Part 2, as a general thing about what started the Civil War.

Captain America: Twenty-First Century Blitz #1-4 God, where do I even start with this one? Well, I suppose with the important shit. And what’s important is that Bucky is in the wind (sorta), but he and Steve meet up in London and spend a lot of time yelling at each other in terror, there’s a blimp involved, and also, we’re still technically on the WinterIron timeline, I swear. This arc is not my favorite. It’s not bad, but, as mentioned, it’s mostly just Steve and Bucky screaming at each other. (Which, if you ship them, is yummy. If you don’t, it’s a lot of yelling.) Bucky’s former 'owner', the one who sent him to kill Red Skull and get the Cosmic Cube is a bad dude called General Lukin. This guy is still around, and he is now fighting for control inside his own head with… Red Skull. Yes. Red Skull is not fully dead and is mind-fucking him. (Which is very ironic, if you’re into that kind of irony.) And because no villainous plot is complete without an evil megacorporation, Lukin is also deeply tied to Kronos—which just so happens to be the same shady-ass corporation Tony is having problems with on his end (and also the reason he couldn’t go and help out Steve with Bucky). So, Steve is after Lukin. Bucky is after Lukin. Everyone is after Lukin. Tony is… somewhere, likely wishing he was after Lukin. Oh yeah, and there’s a blimp. For reasons best left to comic book logic, Lukin has a blimp. And he has a bad, evil plan, because, well, comic books are full of those and it’s a Captain America story, so it needs at least one Nazi-adjacent asshole pulling some overcomplicated bullshit per issue. Honestly, this whole arc is barely worth mentioning. They win, obviously. The bad plan is foiled, and the blimp does not succeed at being evil. But Bucky gets his arm blown off, so that’s kind of an exciting bit if you want to draw parallels between this and the MCU. The art is nice too. And because this is a Winter Soldier story (as much as it is a Captain America story—oh, just wait!) and consistency is key, Bucky, being a bit of a loner, fucks off immediately after their glorious team-up. But—a bit of a loner is not entirely a loner. Bucky has actually been working with Fury in secret since getting his memories back (surprise!) and is expecting a shiny new arm for his troubles. (So this is probably where all the “S.H.I.E.L.D. working on Bucky’s arm” fics come from, but I’m just guessing here.) Steve doesn't know this is the case and is still angsty AF over the fact that Bucky keeps bailing before they can cry and talk about their deep emotional bond. I have no idea what Sharon thinks about this, but she is a grown-up badass with a flying car (think red Lola from Agents of the S.H.I.E.L.D TV show), and she seems more sympathetic than jealous.

The end of these three arcs is where Bucky and Steve are just before Civil War kicks off, while—just to remind you all—Tony is off having his big “I am pro-registration” revelations and generally making decisions that will ruin his social life for the foreseeable future. Now, if anyone knows for sure where London happens in relation to Execute Program—before? After? In a quantum state of both?—don’t tell me. I don’t care. The timeline is a chaotic mess on the best day, and that’s before you factor in the fact that there are approximately five million other comic book series running at the same time, with characters popping in and out of different issues. Spider-Man has his own stuff going on, Fantastic Four is around, Avengers are a thing, Wolverine is doing his thing too, and it would be crazy to rope all of this in here. Besides, I bet it makes way more sense to people who were reading these comics as they dropped and kept up with literally everything. For the rest of us, losers, if you REALLY want to know all the tie-ins from different superheroes and whatnot, there’s a five-hour YouTube deep dive for that. I feel asleep around hour three and blacked out most of it, even though it's good, so go forth and suffer accordingly, if you wish to know about comic books pre and during Civil War.

Okay, but why are we talking about Civil War in comic books If there’s fuck-all winteriron in it? Great question. And the answer is: because it matters. And, yes, at this stage you either had to close Tumblr to get rid of my post (I know it's long) or are into it anyway, so... Look, I know what you’re thinking—no interaction at all yet. And that’s fair. Comic book Civil War is not at all the MCU Civil War, which was essentially a Steve/Tony drama bomb with Bucky stuck in the middle like a stressed-out single child, unless you count Peter (shoutout to winterspider) and Wanda, sorta. But: the state of the Steve/Tony relationship in 616 Civil War is a direct precursor to how Bucky and Tony actually interact when they finally do meet in 616. Their first real meeting, and everything that happens after it, is soaked in the aftermath of Civil War—not just in terms of plot, but in how they act around each other (which is fascinating, by the way, but we’ll get there). To run a bit ahead here, just to keep you interested, by the time Bucky and Tony actually share a scene in comic books in this timeline, Tony has already:

Had his entire relationship with Steve imploded in the most public way possible.

Spent months (years?) being the face of an extremely controversial movement.

Lost a lot of friends, made a lot of enemies, and had his personal values challenged to hell and back.

Been through an identity crisis about a thousand times.

Had to experience Spider-Man asking him WHAT THE FUCK, TONY? (maybe not in these words exactly)

All while Bucky has been:

On the run from Steve.

Alone.

Having a Very Bad Time.

So, yeah, even though Bucky and Tony don't exactly cross paths a this stage, the emotional damage absolutely carries over into their interactions later. This is the end of Part 1 of this 'brief' recap, since I am re-reading to make this and taking screenshots as I do. I will cover the actual comicverse Civil War in the next part.

21 notes · View notes