#They’re all too Hollywood pretty now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

leaderwonim · 6 months ago

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LET THE BEST PLAYER WIN.

pairing: tennisplayer!sunghoon x film major!fem!reader

summary: everybody knew park sunghoon, the tennis player at harvard that was most likely going to go pro as soon as he graduated. determined to get closer to him to gather videos for her final, film student nishimura yn tries to find out more about the infamous tennis player everybody seemed to talk about.

warnings: mentions of excessive drinking and smoking (please don’t do any, your bodies are precious 🙏), they’re both lowk bad people LOL, nonconsensual filming (not sexually)

“Whoa there,” you say, camera loosely hanging around your neck as you watch Park Sunghoon slam his racket on the floor till the strings popped out.

“What?!” He screamed, eyes practically bulging out of their sockets. He takes a deep breath, realizing that he has too much of a reputation to lose it over too little of frustration.

“Hey, don’t mind me.” You lift your hands in surrender, “just gotta film something for my final, you know.”

“Film major?” Sunghoon scoffs, throwing his now broken racket to the side as he shuffles through his gym bag for another. “Funny.”

“Very funny,” you shrug. “When I get into a big studio and start making films that blows up Hollywood, Park.”

“I’m just saying,” Sunghoon doesn’t look at you, instead focusing on his footwork. “You got into Harvard and you’re doing film?”

“You got into Harvard by doing tennis.” You snark back. “I think we’re on the same page.”

Sunghoon laughs, and it’s the first time you’ve ever heard such thing from the boy. The only things you do hear is his groans of frustration and grunts as he hits the ball back and forth.

“Not bad,” he compliments you, finally deciding to turn over. “Want to get beer tonight?”

“I thought athletes don’t drink?” You sit up straight from your previous position on one of the plastic chairs placed near the players that oversaw the whole tennis court.

“Pft, which liar told you that?” Sunghoon packs away his things, and despite having played for 3 hours, he still looks as good as ever. “How do you think I keep sane in tennis? Medication? Fuck no.”

For the first time, you see a glint in Sunghoon’s eyes, one that wasn’t the competitive glint he wore like a blood sucking cheetah every tournament.

By the end of the night, you realize that Park Sunghoon can really drink.

He’s downed 6 shots already, but his face is still as bright as ever. In fact, he asks for three more.

“The adrenaline is similar to playing tennis.” He says with his oh so cheeky smile.

As soon as the server passes Sunghoon his drinks, he wraps one arm around your shoulder, cheering, “to Nishimura Y/N, the film major at Harvard!”

You laugh, pointing your camera at his smiling face. He’s too drunk to notice you recording, swaying you side to side as the alcohol consumes his living thoughts.

🎾 ⊹ ‧

You’re pleasantly surprised when Park Sunghoon invites you to one of his matches. It’s not a state competition—but it’s his competition that he invited you to nonetheless.

Your eyes rush back and forth from Sunghoon to his opponent, the ball stroke faster and faster until your head starts hurting from cranking too close. It was a match against Stanford, Sunghoon was playing against a girl named Kelsley Aptos, who was stunning enough to make your film pop.

You cracked your neck before taking out your camera, recording the two competing. As soon as Kelsley misses the ball, you stop filming, standing up to applaud Sunghoon.

The girl isn’t happy, in fact, she’s almost furious with the way her lip twitches. But she does as any good sport would do, shake Sunghoon’s hand and tell him good game.

“I like your skirt,” Sunghoon tells her, licking his lips which were now dry from all the playing. “It’s pretty.”

“Well thanks Park,” she replies. “I like your stance.”

You’ll never understand the way athletes compliment each other—and hell you probably never will since you’ve practically signed your life to the film industry.

He grins, then makes his way to you. “You see how I beat Aptos? She was great, stunning.”

You don’t know why your stomach churns at the way he describes her. Was it jealousy? It couldn’t be; you barely knew Sunghoon, so why the hell were you genuinely upset over him calling Kelsley Aptos stunning?

“C’mon,” he draws you to his side, way too close for two people who’ve only gotten to know each other in the span of two days. “I believe we have to celebrate with drinks.”

🎾 ⊹ ‧

If there’s one thing about Park Sunghoon that you’re utterly confused by is his lack of self control.

On the court, he’s insane, unbeatable, practically a God in the world of tennis. But after tennis, after the matches, he’s chugging down as many alcoholic beverages as he can take, which is far too many a person—much less a college athlete—should inhale.

Sunghoon liked it though. He liked the way the liquor burned as it went down his throat, he liked the way it cooled in his body and how lightheaded he felt everytime he’d drink. When he wasn’t drinking, he was smoking.

You two were perched on lawn chairs, on opposite ends of each other. The chairs oversaw the beach near Harvard, and you could hear the whoosh of the waves as it drew closer.

“Your coach would kill you,” you said, grinning as you watched him inhale the cigarette. He’s not sober, clearly, but his stamina is good enough that he could make out his surroundings and conversations.

“He totally would.”

You perch your camera up on your knee, secretly recording Sunghoon as he leaned his head against the chair. Although he claims he’s so out of it, he looks so beautiful.

“Will you teach me tennis one day, Park?”

He lifts his head up slightly, eyes making direct contact with yours. “Will you teach me film?”

You nod, and he does too.

“Then it’s a deal Nishimura.”

🎾 ⊹ ‧

Sunghoon is a bad influence.

You can tell now that you’ve known him for a month and by the way he drags you into parties, your little camera still dangling around your neck like it was engraved there.

“You know what they would say if they saw Harvard’s precious athlete partying his ass off on a Wednesday night?” Sunghoon yells over the music.

“What?” You yell back.

“How preposterous!”

The two of you giggle loudly at that, bodies so close to each other that it looks like you’re making out to anyone who wasn’t closely paying attention.

“Hey Y/N,” he says, and as you look up, his eyes are already meeting yours. “I like you a lot.”

You smile at that, letting Sunghoon lean in and kiss you right there and then.

It just felt right. So right. Like a missing piece of a puzzle was finally discovered.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

🎾 ⊹ ‧

It feels like you’re discovering a new piece of Park Sunghoon everyday as you get to know more of him.

He was no longer Harvard star tennis player Park Sunghoon, but your boyfriend Park Sunghoon.

It felt weird, but giddy. Girls who had thrown themselves on him before backed off with fury, wondering why a random film student of all people got with their beloved athlete.

You don’t mind that Sunghoon loves tennis, you really don’t. You know he wants to go pro, it’s all he’s ever talked about on your dates and calls.

“I’m gonna make it to the Olympics.” He says. “You’ll see.”

“I’m sure I will Hoonie.”

What you do mind is the fact that Sunghoon loves tennis too much. His fixation with the sport concerns you, but that’s just what happens when you’ve been playing since you were 3, isn’t it? The sport becomes one with you.

“Park Sunghoon! How was your match?” The interviewer asks, shoving his microphone into Sunghoon’s face.

“Oh it was great man, lovely weather.”

“Mhm, a great warm glow over Boston today! Have you always loved tennis this much?”

“Yes, honestly, tennis is my number one. It’s the reason I breathe and live today.”

He doesn’t mention anything about you when asked about what he loved. He never did. It was always the same thing.

Tennis, tennis, tennis.

If you hadn’t seen the red flags that were ringing before, you clearly were now.

“Are you seriously upset I didn’t mention you in my interview?” Sunghoon asks, biting into his apple angrily.

“Yes! It’d be nice for you to mention me once in your interview but you never do! It’s always the same bullshit Hoon!”

“I love tennis, why can’t I talk about it? It’s what the people want! They watch me for tennis, they don’t watch me for some stupid relationship.”

“Oh, so this is relationship is stupid to you now?”

“You’re twisting my words and you fucking know it.”

You and Sunghoon haven’t talked in over a week. All because you had practically begged him just to talk about you once. Was it so hard for him to show appreciation to his own girlfriend?

It didn’t help when you went to try and visit him on the court, practicing what you were going to say. He was already too engrossed in his conversation with Kelsley Aptos, their proximity dangerously close.

Fine. You think. If Park Sunghoon wants to play this way, we can fucking play it this way.

The next thing you knew, the headlines were filled with PARK SUNGHOON, HARVARD STAR ATHLETE CAUGHT EXCESSIVELY DRINKING AND SMOKING, blaring all over Boston, with the clips from your camera being right on the front page.

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3d-wifey · 1 year ago

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NSFT Alphabet: MK1 Johnny Cage Edition

A/N: Wrote this to hold you Johnny girls (gender neutral) over until I finish that smut 😙 Plus, I find writing these Alphabets for a character in preparation to write full-fledged smut for them is very helpful in capturing accurate characterization. It's almost like a writing exercise. I've written three different ones so far and I tried to keep them in character, if that makes sense. Like, I tried putting their personality and language in it. Okay, enjoy.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Talking. So much talking. But, honestly, did you expect anything else? As he’s pulling out, as he’s carrying you to the shower, as you’re washing his hair. And when it inevitably leads to shower sex, he’s talking then too. You’ll never meet a man who loves the sound of his own voice more than Johnny Cage.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

Uh, how ‘bout the artillery canons strapped to his arms? C’mon, I mean, who wouldn’t want a ticket to the gun show?

Face. Is saying your face too cliche? Hear him out! You want specifics? He can do specifics! He likes the dimples that pop in your cheeks when he finally gets you to laugh at one of his jokes, the little crease you get between your eyebrows when he’s pissed you off, the adorable way your nose scrunches up when he does that one thing with his tongue that drives you crazy. See? Specifics!

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

Pull out game…very weak. Embarrassingly weak, actually. He swears he’s never had this problem before. His ability to pull out in the nick of time has always been something he’s prided himself on. However, he vastly underestimated just how good you’d feel. He’s clean, you’re clean, and, hey! You both prefer the feeling of hitting it raw, the way nature intended it. However, your pussy’s like wet kryptonite. And he’s only a man. A very awesome man, but a man nonetheless. So birth control it is! Or, if you’re turned off by all the side effects, he can be talked into a vasectomy. It’s either that or give up the sweet, sweet embrace of your walls when he’s balls deep.

On second thought, that vasectomy sounds pretty tempting. It is reversible, right?

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Johnny would leak his own sex tape. Plain and simple. He’d leak it from a burner account and watch the chaos ensue. There’s no shame in his game. Hey, it’s ranked the Number 1 Celebrity sex tape for a reason.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Is this even a question? Actors, singers, models, directors, producers. He’s THE Johnny Cage, Hollywood royalty. He’s fucked actual royalty. You’re in good hands—as long as he cares about you. If you’re a random hookup, then he’s not really working for your pleasure here. You’ll definitely cum, but it’s mainly a pit stop on his way to the finish line.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Reverse cowgirl. Johnny’s an ass man, through and through. He loves fucking up into you and watching your ass ripple with both of your movements. And he loves holding onto you. Big hands grabbing your waist, hips, thighs, and especially your ass. He also loves seeing you both in action. So reverse cowgirl + some artfully placed full-length mirrors = Him wrapping his arms around your stomach, rubbing at your clit, and forcing you to watch yourself as you desperately grind against him, AKA Heaven.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Oh, c’mon. It isn’t like him to be serious in any situation. He’s gotta slip a joke in every now and then. Get it? Slip a joke in?

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Wax on, wax off, baby. Smoother than a seal. Or, uh, some other sexy, hairless animal. You mourn when he waxes his happy trail.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

You’ll be surprised by how charming he can be. It’s not all jokes and great orgasms. It’s also loving touches, reverent compliments, and amazing orgasms.

J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

He’s got a healthy libido and a pretty stacked schedule, so sometimes a quick introduction between his hand and mini Johnny can’t be helped. But he’s also got a smoking hot girlfriend (you), so jerking off by himself is a rare occurrence.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Exhibitionism. What can he say? He’s a performer at heart and he loves an audience. But nothing crazy, just your average celebrity having sex on a yacht that’s in full view of the paparazzi. Or the occasional jerking off with you telling him how fast or slow to go. Oh, and you can’t forget about the sex tapes. Man, with the amount of videos he has of the two of you going at it, he could start an archive. You two have definitely ended up on the cover of TMZ and the front page of Twitter.

Voyeurism. But only for you. He’s enthralled by anything you do, including how many of your much smaller fingers will you stuff inside yourself to replicate the feeling of him stretching you wide. It usually leads to you begging for him to touch you, something else he’s in love with. Nothing wrong with a little hands-on audience participation.

Dirty talk. Normally, dirty talk is kind of basic to any old romp in the hay, but Johnny, being Johnny, puts his own Cage flair on it. Those corny oneliners somehow translate to the perfect thing to say to get you hot. He’s like Shakespear, if Shakespear was good-looking and not a virgin. You know what they say: everything sounds better when you’re horny. Who says that? Uh…

Fighting/Sparing which always leads to blood play. Winning a match gets Johnny’s blood pumping. The adrenaline of escaping death and the crowd hyping him up. And the crux of it all is you who happens to get especially wet when he comes to you covered in blood, grinning with a glint in his eyes that’s poorly hidden behind his blood-speckled sunglasses (a glint that many may describe as mania). And it certainly goes the other way. Watching you kick ass makes him harder than a diamond. Sparing together is a no-brainer that leads to fucking on his gym floor, or, honestly, wherever you two fall. Lui Kang must regret making you two his champions in this timeline with how often he’s walked in on you two. Offering to let him join probably doesn’t soften the blow, but, hey, it’s only polite.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

In his mansion. In one of his lavish beds, or pressed up against the wall-length windows. In his Bentley or in the back of his limo. He’s a big fan of fingering you under the table at an award show and then fucking you in a bathroom at said award show when he should definitely be on stage presenting. For whatever reason, walking the red carpet always gets him worked up. And going to the club together always ends with you riding him in the VIP section.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Such a complex question for a man with complex taste. I’m joking, Johnny is so easy. It’s actually ridiculous how easily you turn him on. Laugh at his joke, hard. Complement his acting or fighting, hard. Running your fingers through his hair/scratching his scalp, hard. Feel him up/tease him in any context, hard. You’re covered in blood after a win, hard, hard, rock hard.

“Are you King Midas? Cuz you make me hard with just one touch.”

“That one was actually kinda clever.”

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Nothing too gross. He’s all for sloppy, messy sex, but he has to draw the line somewhere. There’s nasty 👁🫦👁 and there’s n a s t y 👁👄👁.

He likes to tease/do the opposite of what you say, but if you’re not 100% on board with what he’s doing, then he’s stopping it then and there. Remember: there’s nothing sexier than explicit consent!

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Preferred to receive before he started dating you, and only ever had the urge to go down on someone if he had been drinking before. After you started dating, he definitely loved it whenever you gave him head, but he didn’t realize how much pleasure he could get from giving you pleasure.

He loves sloppy head, giving and receiving, so if you weren’t wet before, you definitely will be after he gets his mouth on you.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on when and where you’re doing it. And if you two are “allowed” to be doing it in said place.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Big fan of the guy who came up with the idea of quickies, enough said.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

C’mon. He’s the leading source of your sex tapes getting leaked. I mean, how do you think the paps keep finding you in compromising positions? A little tip-off to them while you take his tip, ha!

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

It’s like he runs off horsepower, good God. If you’re trying to go until he’s tired out, it’s gonna be a couple of rounds until then.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He’s a fan of dildos. Specifically, watching you fuck yourself with one. “Go ahead, baby. Show me how bad you want me.” And show him, you do. God, you know how to put on a show. But you shouldn’t have to settle for some random dildo. You’re with the Cage man, and he would get a mold of his dick made for you. And they say he’s not romantic.

Strap-on. That’s it. And he takes it well ;).

Remote-controlled vibrators, for you and him. Hell, let’s make a game out of it. See who can last the longest in public, there are no losers!

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

His version of teasing is doing the opposite of what you said to do. You want him to speed up? He’s slowing down and making sure you feel every inch inside you. Oh, keep his hands above his head? You gonna make him? He’s a total brat, but you knew what you were getting yourself into when you agreed to date him.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Heh, yeahhh. He’s real loud. Moans, groans, screams, whimpers. You name it, he’s doing it. It’s the performer in him. And because he knows you like how he sounds.

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)

Tattoos? Sexy as hell. If you were to ever get his name tattooed on you (preferably a tramp stamp), then you might as well start planning what flowers you want in your bouquet. I could see him getting your name tattooed on him too. Probably on his pelvis, in the middle of his v-line. In case anyone ever needs a reminder of who his dick belongs to.

Type of guy to dedicate a Mortal Kombat match to you, and then lose. Ah, I’m joking. He’d beat his opponent’s ass all because you promised him victory sex if he won and he doesn’t take victory sex lightly.

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s got an 8.5–8.9 inch hog, shower not a grower. Little Johnny isn’t so little. There’s a reason he’s alright with doing full-frontal nudity if the scene calls for it. They’ve had to CG out his bulge in post-production in every Ninja Mime movie. It’s not his fault spandex happens to be the clingiest material known to man.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Higher than Mount Fuji. He’s a stallion in his prime with a gorgeous girlfriend. His spare time is filled with filling you. And you both tend to feed off of each other, so all it takes is for one of you to be the tiniest bit turned on, and then, boom! You’re both desperately grinding against each other in a supply closet. Ain’t that just the way?

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Depends. He’s kind of like a dog that needs to tire himself out before he can sleep.

Click for a Johnny Cage-shaped surprise👀👀

#johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #mk1 johnny cage #johnny cage smut #johnny cage mortal kombat #mk 2023 #mk smut #mortalkombat #mortal kombat 1 #nsft alphabet #realized i needed to change that W to a T in the title if i wanted this to get any traffic lmao

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deathblacksmoke · 15 days ago

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love is a gentle thing | n.s. fic

pairing: noah sebastian x reader (gender neutral)

summary: after going to haunted house with the boys, noah and reader spend the eve of his birthday cuddled up at home.

cw: brief descriptions of a haunted house, mentions of anxiety, 30 year old movie spoilers, lots of fluff

word count: 1.3K

author's note: happy birthday, sweet noah 🩷✨ for the first of the noah requests, @lma1986 requested the bad omens boys and crew doing a haunted house walkthrough followed by some fluffy things at home. hope i did this one justice, my love <3

taglist sign-up | title from "velvet ring" by big thief

In an unexpected turn of events, you’ve managed to drag Noah here. He had agreed after little more than a mention of wanting to do something fun for his birthday while everyone was in town. Though his concession had been reluctant, you were met with the soft smile that’s always told you he isn’t too put out by it.

As you stand in line, he’s tense beside you. It’s nothing out of the ordinary for him, but you trace a finger along the back of his hand to comfort him anyway. His face spreads into a smile before Ruffilo stretches up on the other side of him and throws an arm around his shoulders. Noah melts into his friend, Nick doing the work to soothe him the rest of the way. You feel so grateful that you can have all of Noah’s favorite people together like this. You knew his actual birthday would be a hard sell, that he’ll want to spend the day holed up inside and you’ll happily join him, but you love that he’s allowing himself to form happy birthday memories, too.

This is much more your scene than it is his, but as the line moves forward, you can feel your nerves kicking up. The website’s promise — Scariest Haunt in the City! — had been a draw when you and Matt were planning. Now, though, your anxiety has spiked. You loop your pinky through Noah’s, needing the little bit of reassurance you find in his touch. He looks down at you before he links your fingers together, giving your hand a squeeze. Still slightly restricted by Nick’s arm around him, he swings your clasped hands gently between you, a mostly-successful attempt at slowing your racing heartbeat.

Upon entry, you’re greeted with a narrow hallway, darkness, dust, and a vague smell of rot. Each creak of the floorboards causes you to jump, your hand tightening more and more around Noah’s until you’re sure you’ll cut off his circulation. The room of mirrors makes you uneasy, especially as you see shadows darting around behind you, unaccompanied by any sound. The anticipation is the worst part of it, never knowing when someone will pop out of a dark corner to grab you. You whip your head around at a distant noise and Folio laughs at you, claps you on the shoulder.

“You’ve got to lighten up,” he tells you, making you roll your eyes. “They’re not allowed to touch you.”

You don’t correct him. After a few minutes pass you get to watch, amused, as one of the scare actors that had been waiting gives Folio a little push. It’s nothing more than a small shove, but it’s enough to spook him. He shrieks and takes off running, squealing a what the fuck?! as he bolts for the exit. At least the rest of you were wise enough to actually read the consent forms you’d signed.

Noah doesn’t let go of your hand as you exit the house, a reassuring weight in his grasp. You chance a glimpse up at him and find him wide-smiled with sparkling eyes, throwing his head back as he laughs with his friends.

You feel warm all over, so pleased that you were able to get him out of the house today, that he was able to have a good time. There had been a vague worry that he would hate this, but you had kept your hopes up and all of your anxieties hidden. They’re washed away at the sight of his pretty grin, as genuine as you’ve ever seen it.

“A friend of mine’s band has a show in North Hollywood tonight if anyone wants to go,” Davis interjects. The tiredness is starting to seep into your bones, home sounding more and more alluring, but it does sound fun. Just as you’re about to look to Noah and count yourselves in, he squeezes your hand twice: your agreed-upon signal that he wants to head home. You don’t blame him; it has been a long day. You knock your shoulder gently into his.

“I’m feeling pretty tired, but you guys go have fun!” you offer. A disappointment flashes across their faces, something that warms your heart as you shuffle a little closer to Noah. “Noah drove us.”

You’re pleased to be his excuse any day. They’re softer on you than they are on him, anyway.

As you’re saying your goodbyes, you notice the lightness in Noah’s shoulders that wasn’t there this morning, his characteristic hunch nowhere to be seen. He holds the hugs a little longer than normal, the smile never leaving his face, and you feel so happy. You’re grateful for everyone for helping to make this a good day for him.

He fixes you with his dazzling smile as you walk back to his car, and his joy seeps into you, too.

“Are you happy?” you ask him, knowing his answer but wanting to hear him say it anyway.

“It was a good day,” he replies, his grin spreading somehow wider.

The moment is interrupted by Folio jumping out from behind Noah’s car for one final scare. You let him believe it worked, that you didn’t notice him missing during goodbyes or see his shoe peeking out from behind Noah’s back tire. You give your best attempt at a jump and shocked gasp, and it seems to satisfy him. Noah just pulls him into a hug.

“Thanks for coming, man,” he says, and Folio gives him a clap on the back.

“Come on, Folio, we’re leaving!” you hear Jolly shout. He gives you a final hug before he takes off running back to the group.

“He acts like I didn’t see him running over here the moment the rest of us left the house,” Noah says as he opens the door for you, and you laugh along with him.

You end the evening cozy on the couch, with a coffee table littered in take out containers and a movie you’ve seen a dozen times before.

As Billy confesses his plot to Sidney, Noah slumps, resting his head on your shoulder and sighing.

Your brow furrows in concern momentarily, but he has a look of complete calm on his face.

“What’s up, honey?” you ask him. He tilts his head just so, peering up at you with his pretty brown eyes. You can’t keep yourself from running a hand through his hair, giving it a little tug and straightening it again.

“Thank you for today,” he responds. Your body warms all the way through. “I know I can get weird on my birthday. Thank you for making it special for me.”

You don’t tell him that the only thing you’ve ever wanted is to see him happy, but you think he knows.

“Of course,” you offer, without a second thought. You press a kiss to his forehead and his smile makes your heart thud. “I wanted you to make nice memories with your friends.”

“And you.” he adds. And me, you agree, nodding as you run a finger along the nape of his neck, down over the exposed bit of his shoulder.

He sprawls over your lap like a big dog who doesn’t quite know his size. You maneuver him, and yourself, so you’re both lying down with him flush to your chest.

You press a kiss to the flower tattooed at the nape of his neck, your new favorite spot to pepper with affections. His hand rests over where yours is lying on his tummy, his fingers linking with your own.

“I only ever want to see you happy,” you decide to tell him anyway, because he deserves to hear it. He brings your hand up to his mouth, pressing kisses to your knuckles, expressing his gratitude better than his words ever could.

tags <3

@circle-with-me @darksigns-exe @baddestomens @ladyveronikawrites @sitkowski

@somebodyels3 @sorrowsofsilence @collapsedglasshouses @cookiesupplier @spicywhenspeaking

@lma1986 @abiomens @agravemisstake @cncohshit @xserenax-13

@dominuslunae @poisongirl616 @iknownothingpeople @thisbicc @fadingangelwisp

@alwaysfightforwhoyouare @theanarchymuse95 @flowery-mess

#noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian rpf #bad omens fic #bad omens rpf #dividers: saradika #deathblacksmoke works

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wayward-dreamer · 1 month ago

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Old Flame

Part 2 to New Blood

Square/s filled: "is that right?" @anyfandomkinkbingo (prompt in bold)|

Pairing: Soldier Boy x F!Supe!Reader

Word count: 5,229

Summary: Y/N never expected that a knock at her door late at night would result in a reunion with Soldier Boy, someone she long thought to be dead. The meeting gets off to a rocky start, but when certain truths come to light, some unexpected feelings come along with them.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, smut: dirty talk, unprotected sex (wrap it up people), I think that's it lol

A/N: I'm so excited to finally bring this to you guys! I just realised I posted the first part a year ago, so it's about time lol... beta'd my loves @hintsofhoney and @makeadealwithdean

Get the job done.

In all his tenure as Soldier Boy, that’s what he had learnt and kept faith in. He had tried to instill that in his team continuously for so long, but along the way he lost his grip on them, enough that they had taken action against him and given him up to the Russians.

The only credit he could give them was that he never saw it coming. Noir was always crafty that way, which was why he had no doubt Stan Edgar had put him up to it.

The last few days had been a complete whirlwind.

He had been released from a chamber in Russia, confronted by the modern world, burned Countess and the Twins to a crisp, all while running with two guys propositioning him to kill the “new” him, Homelander. Who he found out was his son, right before he caved Mindstorm’s face in with his shield. They were still on the search for Noir, but they were close. He had conflicting feelings about Homelander given the revelations, but if he was prepared to do what needs to be done.

He sipped his whiskey, reclined in the wrinkled leather armchair of The Legend’s office in his home upstate. He continued this nightly routine, contemplating the old days compared to this new world he had found himself in. He recalled the golden years, the nights of endless parties, alcohol, drugs, beautiful women, being in the pocket of so many of Hollywood’s elite and notable political figures. He remembered the Vought events, Herogasm in its prime and not the pathetic mess he had witnessed days ago. He thought back to those last few weeks before they left for Nicaragua, that shareholders party that ended up being his last. The night he met Y/N. Ember.

“Everyone knows Noir’s the only valuable player for Vought. The rest of you… you’re gonna end up C-listers, with crummy deals at amusement parks and running Herogasm into the fucking ground.”

He scoffed as he sipped the amber liquid. She had been right, of course. That was exactly what happened, and she had the foresight about Payback’s fate before any of them did. She may have tried to push his buttons, but he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the result of it. The sex was pretty fucking great; no matter how much he hated her attitude, he had to admit that fact.

“And as for you…You know they’re all just humoring you, right? Countess, the twins. I mean fuck, even Edgar just gives you shit to do so he doesn’t actually have to deal with you. He’s probably got a replacement lined up for you already.”

Just as the memories of her body against his plagued him, her words echoed in his head once more. Words that had broken his last resolve, that had him pushing her against the wall, that had fuelled their rageful lust for each other. Slowly, he stood up from the chair, replaying them in his mind. Yet again, she had prophesied something that he wouldn’t know the truth about until now.

So how the fuck did she know? She may not have been part of the team back then, but she sure as fuck knew something. Did she have something to do with the plot to get rid of him, too? Did she and Noir make the plan together?

She had voiced her desire to join Payback, going as far as telling him she’d talk to Stan after they had fucked and broken several pieces of furniture in his penthouse apartment.

He needed to know where she was so he could pay her a little visit like he had with the rest of his team.

-x-

Y/N settled in for the evening, laid back against the couch with a glass of whiskey on the coffee table and a joint resting in the ashtray next to it. The light of the television flashed against her face as some shitty daytime show was almost finished, ready to give way to the 6pm news. She had briefly seen something about an explosion in Midtown Manhattan a few days ago, followed by another in Montpelier, Vermont, but she didn’t pay much attention to it.

Sliding down against the cushions as the headlines started, she reached for the joint and brought it to her lips, clicking her fingers and lighting the end of it from the small flame. She inhaled, blowing out a large puff of smoke as she drew her knees up. With one hand, she reached for her foot and rubbed her thumb along her toes, firmly. She grimaced at the dull ache that had developed over the years, before stretching her leg out and hearing her bones click loudly. One of the many things Vought took from her; her physicality. She may not have aged a day thanks to the Compound V, but that didn’t mean the years of service to that fucked up place hadn’t taken a toll on her.

Taking another pull from the joint, Y/N glanced at the TV as a new headline came up. Her eyes narrowed in confusion as old images of Soldier Boy flashed across the screen, with the words SOLDIER BOY ALIVE? appeared over them. She jolted up from the couch, reaching for the remote and pressing hard on the volume button, making it louder than it had been. An instagram video with the supe she recognized as Starlight came after the pictures, her words ringing in Y/N’s ears.

“It’s been five days, and still nothing but lies from Vought. Soldier Boy is still out there, and Maeve is still missing, and you know what? More people are just going to die before they admit to what’s going on.”

Her eyes widened as the report continued, piecing the last few days and events together.

“As you heard Starlight there, it’s been five days since the events in Montpelier, Vermont where seven supes were killed, and several more injured. This comes a few days after the explosion in Midtown, with the prime suspect being Soldier Boy, Vought’s most respected supe. Long thought dead for the last 3 decades, which now leads us to believe: what has else Vought been hiding? Stay tuned-”

Y/N shut the TV off, the house eerily silent. She breathed heavily as she tried to understand what was happening. Was he really alive? After all this time? Had he really killed all those people? In an explosion no less. She knew his violent nature but was he really capable of something like this? Midtown was close to The Legend’s penthouse. Had Ben gone after him too?

While the reality of lives lost made her blood boil, the only thing that made her happy was the thought that Vought was probably running around with their heads cut off trying to fix this mess. She’d love to be in that building again and witness it, but she had never been so glad to be out of that life.

She knew that if there were casualties in Vermont, then it was definitely at Herogasm. The TNT twins were no doubt a part of those numbers, which meant Ben was going after all of the team. She had lost contact with Countess decades ago, which was she relieved about considering everything she and the rest of the team had put her through. Y/N had left Payback almost thirty years ago; crime fighting nearly twenty years ago, and she had never looked back. She had refused appearances at Godolkin and any Vought events over the years, and when they finally stopped reaching out she felt free of their hold on her.

There was no word on Countess, the twins were most likely dead; The Legend too, probably. That meant Noir and Mindstorm were next, and then Ben would no doubt be coming for her. If he was alive, then he had clearly learnt of her appointment to Payback, something they had argued over that fateful night, even if it did result in really great sex.

She stood up from the couch and rushed into her bedroom, knowing there was only one thing she could do at that moment. She needed to leave before he found her.

She pulled out her small suitcase, dumped it on the bed and began filling it with whatever she needed for a few days at least. That news report had put the fear of every God into her and she knew that she needed to pack quickly. She had never met Starlight, but after hearing who was responsible… she knew something was up even if she didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t be alive. Not after all this time.

She couldn’t take any chances of him finding her and killing her too. Especially after that night, in his penthouse at the old Vought American building, when she said all those horrible things to him. Things that she had regretted the moment she found out he was gone in that nuclear blast. Was that how he was alive now and had managed to wipe out nearly everyone at Herogasm?

She pondered everything in her mind, shaking her head as the thoughts continued in a reel, continuing to put her things together as she moved on auto-pilot. She zipped up the bag, grabbed her passport from one of the drawers in her dresser and shoved it into her handbag. The Legend lived close by, and she just hoped and prayed that he wasn’t dead already. She needed his help to make her disappear for a while, because he was the only one she still trusted. She pushed the clothes in her closet to either side of the rack, reaching forward to the safe in the wall. Turning the dial a few times, it clicked open from the right combination and allowed her to take out a few bundles of cash that she had.

Just as she decided to change into jeans and t-shirt from her nightie and robe, a sudden knock on the door broke through the silence, stunting her in place. She felt a shiver run down her back as the ominous quiet stretched on. Slowly, she wrapped her robe around her body and tied it, walking out of her room. She stared at the front door, wondering if she just imagined it. Another knock sounded on the solid wood, and she flinched, gasping softly. Shaking her head, she rolled her shoulders as she straightened up, psyching herself up as she took leisured steps towards the entrance. She lightly wiggled her fingers to make small embers light up the tips, just as she reached for the doorknob. She twisted it slowly, opening the door wide to see no one there on her porch.

“What the fuck?” she whispered, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Just as her hand reached for the porch light switch next to the frame, her eyes widened at the familiar face they stepped in front of her, paralyzing her in her place. It was the face of a ghost, or at least, he should’ve been. She staggered back as heavy footfalls moved slowly towards her, his green eyes staring into hers as his face remained stoic, the door hinges creaking as he shut the door behind him.

“Ben,” she gulped, squaring her shoulders as she stood her ground. She wasn’t going to let him intimidate her. “H-How are you alive?”

His blank facial expression gave way to a slow, sinister smirk. “Well you and the team handing me to the fucking Reds didn’t work out the way you planned.”

She frowned, shaking her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

In one swift motion, Soldier Boy’s hand wrapped around her neck, turning her around and slamming her against the wall. She gasped as his fingers curled over her throat, her body trapped by his shield pressed against her. She tried to push it away with her free hands, but his strength was too much for her.

“Don’t lie to me,” he snarled, glaring down at her. “I could snap this little neck like a fucking toothpick and you know it, sugar.”

“I-I’m not,” she choked, slapping at his arm.

“You seemed pretty confident about what was gonna happen to all of them,” he recalled, squeezing harder on her neck. “Countess, the twins. So you’re gonna tell me the fucking truth.”

“Or what? You’re really gonna kill me like you did the others?” she gulped around her words.

“Depends on your fucking answer,” he replied.

Her lungs burned as took a harsh breath once he released his hold on her. Her chest heaved as she looked up at him, still trapped between the wall and his shield. Her eyes darkened with rage, her jaw clenching as her nostrils flared the longer they remained in defiant silence. With the little strength she could muster, she raised her arms and pushed against his chest, pushing him back a few paces. His shield slipped out of his grip as he braced himself, his upper lip twitching as he glared at her. Her hands glowed with tiny embers that grew as she stepped towards him.

“Anything I say isn’t gonna matter to you,” she stated, wiggling her fingers around and causing small flames to ignite her palms.

“It all fucking happened, Y/N,” he husked, his stance changing into fight mode as glanced between her face and her hands. “Exactly the way you said. I mean, fuck, they probably replaced me with fucking Homelander - my son - because you told them to!”

“S-Son?” she stuttered, her eyes widening.

He chuckled, smugly. “Come on, doll. It’s hard to believe you had nothing to do with any of this. So what was it, huh? Getting rid of me as some kind of initiation from Noir and the rest of them? You were the final fucking puzzle piece in his plan?”

Y/N shook her head as her fingers tightened into fists, and before she realized her actions, she lifted the right and punched him across the face. The flesh of cheek singed by the embers healed quickly as he looked back at her, grabbing her by her arms and flinging her aside. Her back hit the wall hard, photo frames from the mantel above the fireplace falling off and shattering on the floor. She rolled her shoulders as pushed off the wall, some of the drywall stuck to the back of her silky robe. She tried to strike him again, but as he ducked away, he gripped her waist and turned her around, caging her in by his strong arms. She elbowed him but he didn’t budge; a complete wall of immovable muscle against her. She reached back, her fingers scraping against his cheek, a painful grunt escaping him as she burned his skin long enough for him to let go of her.

“Bitch,” he growled.

Soldier Boy wiped his fingers along his face, the flesh reforming before any blood was drawn. He moved towards her, but she bent down and quickly pulled the blade from his holster, coming back up as she flicked the blade around, slicing his palm through his glove. Once again he was unaffected as gripped her wrist, forcing her backwards and slamming her into the wall. She shrieked as her head hit the hard surface, the sound growing more desperate as she tried to free her hand from his hold. The deja vu of the whole situation wasn’t lost on either of them, as they found themselves in a similar position as that night, but she wasn’t going to let that distract her. As his other hand moved over her throat again, he hit her fist against the wall in an effort to get her to drop the knife. Just as the grip fell from her fingertips and before he could get the upper hand once more, she grabbed him by his kevlar vest, kneeing him in the stomach as hard as she could with her waning strength. A grunt, more of surprise than pain left him as he let go of her, slightly hunched as he collected himself.

“I got the gig 6 weeks after you were gone,” she blurted out. Before this escalated more than it already had, she was going to tell him what really happened.

He glared at her, straightening up slowly. “What?”

“Whenever you were taken… I only got into the team once Vought handled that whole situation,” she added, trying to catch her breath as she moved towards him, slowly. “Which they did a fucking piss poor job of considering I never believed for a second you were dead in a nuclear explosion.”

With a heavy exhale he watched her carefully, looking for any tells that she was lying. She knew exactly what he was trying to do, from the way his shoulders tensed and his eyes narrowed. She shook her head, scoffing as mentally told herself to “fuck it” because if she had to die defending herself, then so be it. At least she’d go out with some integrity.

“I had nothing to do with the plot to hand you over, okay? I didn’t know about Noir’s plan!” she exclaimed, stepping closer to him. “Though, if you ask me, those orders probably came from Stan ‘cause he’s the only one smart and sneaky enough to think of it. So no, it wasn’t an initiation. Trust me, that process was far worse.”

A bitter chuckle fell from her lips as she met his eyes again. His eyebrows furrowed, taking her in properly for the first time since he stepped into her house. Apart from the lines around her eyes she looked exactly the same, but something behind her eyes told him she wasn’t the pistol of a woman he had a fiery twenty minutes with all those years ago. He wasn’t about to ask her, because fuck feelings and all that gooey shit, but considering his own experiences in that Russian lab he realized he wasn’t the only tortured one in the room.

Y/N couldn’t decipher his silence. The longer he didn’t say a word, the angrier she got and that was dangerous in that precarious moment. She couldn’t stop herself, however, so before she realized what she was doing, she pushed him. It didn’t matter to her that he was a brick wall, her rage was consuming her and it needed to be unleashed in any way she could find. She hated to be called a liar, and there was no way he was going to get away with it.

“No matter how much anyone asked for the truth about you it was always the same fucking answer!” she yelled, shoving him again. “The same lies they sold to the public were the same ones they gave us!”

Another push.

“Y/N-”

He stepped back, trying to move out of her way as he reached for her hands, but she was quick as they pressed into his chest again and forced him back, harder this time.

“So, no! I had no fucking idea that you got taken by the Russians! No fucking idea the team did that to you! I joined Payback to look after my family, not to get rid of you!”

She jostled him again, her palms suddenly engulfed with large embers as she reached up and slapped him across the face. A pained groan escaped him this time, but as he tried to recover she used her other hand across the other side of his face. The skin singed before it healed quickly, but she kept coming at him, kept slapping and shoving, her teeth gritting as she screamed at him. He grunted as he reached for her, his fists closing tight around her wrists as she tried to pull out his grip, scowling at him as her fingers blazed.

“Y/N, stop!” he roared, his gaze far more menacing than hers.

But she didn’t back down. It was too late now.

“I asked about you, you son of a bitch! I tried to find out where you were! You wanted the truth? There it is!”

Her continuous attempt to free herself from his grasp failed, groaning in frustration as she tried to move away, but there was no use.

“Let me go,” she hissed, glaring up at him.

His hands tightened around her wrists causing her to gasp in pain.

“L-Let me fucking go and get the fuck out of my house!”

Soldier Boy remained stoic as she struggled, his heated gaze on her causing her stop. Their eyes locked on each other, and for the first time since he stepped through the door Y/N saw something else behind the intensity of his green orbs. What it was, she wasn’t sure and he probably had no idea what he was feeling either, but before she could understand what was happening, he dropped her wrists and roughly cupped her face as his lips fused with hers. A surprised moan escaped her as he grabbed her so quickly, but her hands instantly moved into his hair, pushing herself up on her tip-toes to get closer to him.

There was nothing gentle about the embrace. Their lips moved harshly against each other’s as her frenzied grasp tugged at his vest. She pulled away, gasping for air as she made quick work of opening the buckles and pushing the kevlar up, allowing him to pull it over his head and throw it aside. He pulled her close as they met in another frantic kiss, stumbling towards the living area as they dodged furniture. He reached for the tie on her silk robe, pulling it free and practically tearing off her before she tossed it somewhere in the room, stripping her of the short silk nightie she had been wearing just as fast. The back of her calf hit the corner of the coffee table, causing her to lose balance as she hit the floor, pulling him down on top of her. Luckily the thick rug softened the fall, but neither of them noticed as he stared down at her, completely naked in front of his still-clothed frame. Her frenetic grasp on his suit as she yanked at the gathered collar and pulled the zip down caused an amused expression to grace his features.

“Someone’s fucking eager,” he chuckled.

She scoffed, hastily sitting up and pushing the sleeves down his biceps before reaching for his pants. “Please, your dick just happens to be the only one in the vicinity.”

“Is that right?” he asked, briefly halting her urgency as he held her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “‘Cause if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you got a thing for me, doll.”

“You kissed me first,” she retorted, one eyebrow cocked as she looked up at him, her fingers deftly unzipping his pants. “What’s that say about you?”

“That I’m the one in charge,” he husked, taking her hands in his and pinning her down on the rug once more.

“Then shut up and fuck me,” she smirked.

He grinned as his face hovered above hers, breath mingling as their lips were inches apart. Without wasting any more time, he tugged the waistband of his pants down and took hold of his cock, hard and pulsing in his hand. He lined himself up to her entrance, and in one swift tilt of his hips, he was sheathed by her walls. Her mouth fell open at the familiar stretch, her eyes squeezing shut as she moaned loudly. She grabbed onto his broad, muscular shoulders, pulling him as close as their bodies could press together. He set a brutal pace to his thrusts, his pelvis smacking against her as she wrapped her legs around him, the heels of her feet resting under the curve of his ass. The threads of the carpet under her scraped her back, but she couldn’t have cared less at that point. Everything about that moment felt the same as all those years ago, and yet, completely different.

His touch was as harsh as before and so was the way he pounded into her. Something lingered under the surface, however, something that was unfamiliar to her and that she had never experienced with any of the men she had slept with. Just as she had with the others, she pushed it aside and tugged the hair at the back of his head, their lips fused together in a rough kiss.

“Fuck,” he husked, his mouth brushing against hers. “So fucking tight for me…”

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up and fuck me?” she taunted.

He glared down at her, taking in the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “What? This isn’t enough for you?”

“Looks like you’re fucking out of practice, old man,” she snickered.

The scornful laugh died quickly as he took her words as a challenge, slamming into her even harder. The shrieking moan that ripped from her throat had her regretting her words, her eyes closing as stars appeared behind them. Her grip on his shoulders tightened, the pads of her fingers digging into his skin as her nails left crescent marks behind.

It was his turn to mock her, chuckling as he stared down at her. “That’s what I fucking thought… only way to put bratty sluts like you in their place.”

She cried out, half in rage at what he called her and the other half ashamed that it had an effect on her, her walls clenching around him as she felt the familiar heat in her core. She hadn’t felt like this in a long time, well… since the last time she was with him. She tried not to think about how pathetic that was.

“Shit,” she hissed, pressing her lips together.

“Suddenly speechless,” he smirked.

“Fuck you.”

A boisterous laugh left him as he continued to move within her, his hips unrelenting. Her fingers squeezed down harder on his skin, the embers that appeared under them beginning to burn his flesh. He broke eye contact with her as his head dropped down, his shoulders heaving under her painful touch. He closed his eyes, squeezing them as his hips began to falter, causing her to frown. It was unexpected, and she had no idea what was happening to him, especially as a pool of light glowed on his chest.

“Ben…” she whispered, her hands instantly cupping his face and forcing him to look at her.

Just as the light scorches dissipated on his skin as it healed, so did the strange light that looked as if it would erupt from his chest. She gazed up at him, watching as his eyes finally focused on hers.

“What the fuck was-”

He cut the question off as he kissed her hard, his thrusts picking up pace once more. She moaned into his mouth, the confusion as to what had just happened disappearing as he pushed her towards her release. Her walls tightened around him, the intense sensation in her core too much of her to take.

“Fucking cum, Y/N,” he breathed against her lips, his gaze locked on hers. “Be a good girl and cum for me…”

A loud whimper left her as she threw her head back, her hands moving up the back of his neck and into his hair, gripping the locks between her fingers. Her eyes closed tightly as her vision turned white behind them, just as the coil snapped and she felt her wetness cover his cock. His own release came just a few seconds later, a deep growl escaping him as he dropped his head down, his seed coating her walls.

They breathed heavily as they came down from their euphoric high, but it didn’t last long as Ben pulled out of her, sitting on the floor and leaning back against the couch. Y/N sat up, reaching for her robe and pulling it on, tying it around her. The silence was awkward and she wasn’t sure how to break it as she heard him reaching for her lighter and the joint she hadn’t finished. He lit it again, bringing it to his pouty lips and taking a long pull.

“So… when did you find out about Homelander being your son?” she asked, not knowing if that was the best way to start but it was better than addressing what happened just a couple of minutes ago.

“A few days ago,” he replied, the smoke blowing out between his words. “Long story.”

She nodded, unsure of what to say next.

“Ben, what happened-”

“We’re not fucking talking about it, doll,” he snarled, pinning her with an intense glare. “Mention it and I can slit that little throat of yours so fast.”

“I’d like to see you try,” she challenged.

She shifted closer to him, her neck craned back, taunting him. She looked at him with hooded lids, biting her lip to keep her from cackling in his face. She plucked the joint from between his fingers and brought it to her mouth, taking a drag. She dropped her head to meet his gaze, blowing the puff of smoke out directly into his face. She knew she was pushing it, but she also knew he was all talk. When it came to her; if he really wanted to cause her harm he would’ve done it that night.

“Don’t you have another Payback member to kill?” she asked, nonchalant.

His jaw clenched the longer he sat in front of her and saw that she wasn’t giving him the satisfaction he would’ve had if she was scared. He stood up quickly, finding his suit around the room and putting each piece back on. As he picked his shield and walked to the door, she followed behind him, a mischievous grin pulling at her lips as she raised an eyebrow in question.

“Raincheck on that long story?”

“Sure you don’t wanna admit you want me first?” he grinned.

She scoffed. “And inflate that ego of yours even more? No fucking way.”

He growled as he reached up and grabbed the front of her neck, leaning in and kissing her roughly. She snickered slightly as her lips moved against his, pulling away before she could let herself fall further into his strange yet intense hold on her.

Ben pulled away from the kiss, and with a wink and suggestive wiggle of his brow he turned the doorknob, walking out onto the porch and into the night. She closed the door, leaning back against it as she took in the state of her living room. She didn’t get the answers she wanted, hell she barely asked the questions she needed to, but considering she never expected this to happen, for him to actually be alive, she supposed they had time to reveal truths and secrets that had been kept for so long.

Something had changed between them, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t help but dwell on it. If their next encounter was going to be anything like it was moments ago, then how could she not? He was a brute and she couldn’t stand him, but fuck it, the sex was worth it.

And that alone was the reason she could learn to tolerate him.

#anyfandomkinkbingo #Soldier Boy x Female!Reader #Soldier Boy x Female!Reader One Shot #Soldier Boy x Female!Reader Fanfiction #Soldier Boy Smut #Soldier Boy One Sot #Soldier Boy Fanfiction #The Boys Smut #The Boys One Shot #The Boys Fanfiction #the boys tv

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pommpuriinn · 6 months ago

Text

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪. 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉’𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓂𝑒, 𝑒𝓈𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑜 3

｡𖦹°‧ pairing ｡𖦹°‧ - idol!yeonjun x superstar!oc x idol!jungkook

｡𖦹°‧ synopsis ｡𖦹°‧ - a love triangle between Hollywood’s sweetheart, Korea’s golden maknae, and Gen Z’s IT boy. Estrella is a very busy woman never had time dating with all her photoshoots, movie offers, recording sessions, dance practices, and public appearances. As she’s doing a little world tour promotions for her latest mini album ‘You & Me’, and let’s just say that stop last a little longer and it becomes a little too interesting.

｡𖦹°‧ a/n ｡𖦹°‧ - yj enters the chat (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭

Italics = korean

It’s 6am and the whole team has made it to their dressing room where Sana and Daya are doing Estrella’s hair and makeup. “Ok first will be the ‘You & Me’ stage, but before that you have an interview with the three mcs txt’s Yeonjun, Park Jihu, and Woonhak.” Megan explains. “They will basically ask about your song and what’s the charming point in the dance along with how is your time in Korea so far?” Megan was giving the basic run down. “I’m nervous~” the four girls giggle at Estrella’s cute pronunciation. All morning Estrella has been practicing her little speech making sure she doesn’t stutters or mumble her words.

“You got this Estrella.” Daya boops her nose affectionately. Estrella smiles, “thanks.” Both Sana and Daya were done doing Estrella’s hair and makeup, so it was now time to change her into her first stage outfit. “So pretty!” Sana gasps at the sight of Estrella. “Custom by Chanel, and they did so good.” Megan covers her mouth trying to hold back her squeals. “Thank you Chanel gods.” Estrella prayed. “Ok let’s get going. Your call time is soon and it’s better to do a little small talk with the mcs, so you can get a bit more comfortable.” Megan opens the door for Estrella. “Ok.” She sighs, still a bit nervous. “Fighting!” Sana holds her fist up encouraging Estrella. “Yeah fighting our little star!” Daya follows Sana’s hand motions. “We’ll be watching on the tv.” Sana points at the tv mounted on the wall. “Thanks, I’ll do my best.” Estrella sent kisses before leaving.

Megan walked Estrella through the halls and as they were walking many staff would whisper how pretty Estrella is, and some would try and hold their excitement since they’re fans of her. As they made it to the stage a staff member was explaining to Megan that Estrella will look into the main camera and stand right in between the two mcs. “Oh my god, I feel like I’m dropping off my child on her first day of school.” Megan snicker at herself kinda feeling emotional. “Why do I feel the same though?” Estrella laughs, trying to calm down her nerves. “Again don’t feel nervous. You done this plenty of times, and plus I’ll be waiting right down the steps so you’re good.” Megan squeezes Estrella’s arms comforting her. “I know.” Estrella pouts. “Fighting!” Megan whisper yells before hugging Estrella and walking off the little stage.

Estrella was currently the only one there which gave her time to practice what she was going to say while fixing her ear-in that helps her translate. “Eleven is about-“

“Hello~” the three MCs greeted Estrella. Estrella got startled, but quickly got over it and said ‘hello’ back while giving them little bows. “Oh, she’s pretty!” Jihu gasps making the two guys chuckle. Estrella took a second to process what Jihu said to her. “I’m pretty? You’re pretty too.” Jihu instantly got shy and shakes her head ‘no’. “I’m Jihu, nice to meet you.” She’s embarrassedly introduced herself. “I’m Woonhak.” One of the male mcs bow towards Estrella. As Estrella eyes left Woonhak and moves on to the next person it was like the whole room went silent, and all she could hear was her own heart beating. He towered over his partners and his fox like eyes met her doe ones. “I’m Yeonjun.” Estrella didn’t show her instantly attraction towards him.

‘Ah, this is what Megan must have meant last night. But I can’t help myself’ Estrella bit her lip. “I’m Estrella Blue, and please guide me.” Everyone was a bit shock at Estrella’s little Korean. “That was good!” Woonhak praises Estrella. Estrella was getting shy with all the compliments causing her to hide a bit behind Yeonjun. “Cute~” Yeonjun coos. Estrella looks up at him with boba eyes hearing him calling her cute. She was trying so hard not to kick her feet and giggle. The staff started counting down before going live and Yeonjun guides Estrella back into position by him ghostly placing his hand on the small of her back.

“Everyone we have a really special guest with us that flew from the States to Korea!” Jihu starts the segment. “Really?! Who must it be?” Woonhak acts curious, making Estrella hold in her laughter. “Come on, how do you not know Woonhak-ssi?” Yeonjun acts offended. “Ta da!” Estrella pops in frame. The mcs act surprised making it harder to not laugh, but Estrella kept it together. “Hi I’m Estrella Blue~” waves at the camera cutely. “It’s a honor to have you here today Estrella-ssi.” Jihu smiles at Estrella. “Thank you I’m so happy to be here and perform.” Estrella mentally pats her head for not stuttering. “Right! Your song ‘Eleven’ is so popular here in Korea much like all over the world. Can you tells us more about ‘Eleven’?” Woonhak asks. This is all Estrella was practicing all morning, it’s her big moment. “Yes!” Estrella nods. Estrella grips the mic with both hands already feeling nervous again. “Um…’Eleven’ is a dance pop song that expressive romantic feelings for someone, and basically saying you make me feel more than a ten, you make me feel like an eleven.” As the camera shows the two other MCs clapping for Estrella’s little speech, and as she was paying attention to them she didn’t notice that Yeonjun snake his arm behind her and pats her back. It was like a ‘you did a good job’ but it still sent Estrella butterflies.

“How about you show us the charming point of the dance?” Yeonjun asks, looking down on Estrella. Estrella hums, “sure.” The music cue and starts playing the chorus. All three of them started hyping Estrella up making her chuckle before getting to the hip part of the dance which she quickly changed serious. The audience couldn’t help but cheer seeing Estrella’s facial expressions. “Wow, wow!” The mcs clapped for Estrella. “Thank you~” Estrella claps for herself. “Maybe you should teach Yeonjun hyung!” Woonhak suggests.

‘This wasn’t apart of the script in my head!’ Estrella hears the translator speak in her ear-in, as she was freaking out. “I just need a little help on the hip part of the dance.” Yeonjun speaks in English. “You know the dance?” Estrella asks in shock. “I had too, you’re our special guest.” Yeonjun doesn’t know where all this confidence came from. He was equaling if not more nervous than Estrella, but not from having to speak more because his idol and crush is right in front of him. Pictures and videos do not do Estrella justice with how beautiful she looks in person and Yeonjun is in ‘awe’.

Did he not listen to a word that Estrella was saying while giving him the quickest tutorial on the hip move because he already knew. He was practicing the choreo in his waiting room the whole time. He did spend the 2 minutes trying to see every little detail on her and just was admiring her. “Yeonjun hyung you got it right?” Woonhak snaps Yeonjun out of the trace. “Of course I got it.” Yeonjun confidently answers while getting into position. “Ok music cue! Please~” Estrella calls to the staff. Estrella was surprised by Yeonjun’s dancing, she smiles at him as they made eye contact which almost messed up Yeonjun. “You were so good.” Estrella places her hand on Yeonjun’s arm along with giving him a thumbs up.

‘What are we?’ Yeonjun thinks while looking back at Estrella basically giving her heart eyes.

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

Next is finally performing the first song ‘You & Me’, and as Estrella walked up the stage she was surprised with the stage design. “It’s so pretty!” She squeals making her fans laugh at her cuteness. “Let me introduce myself,” Estrella clears her throat. “Hi I’m Estrella please cheer loudly for me starrys!” The audience cheers while waving their lightsticks. Estrella then remembers about yesterday and how she met Heemin. “Oh is Heemin here today?” A loud scream coming from the left side caught Estrella’s attention. There stood Heemin waving her lightstick frantically, “there you are. See I remembered, thank you for coming Heemin.” Estrella blew kisses at Heemin’s direction.

Once she saw her dancers go up on the stage with her, she knew it was time to get in position. “Please cheer loudly starrys!” Estrella quickly said before the music started. (Song and dance)

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

“Excuse me, sorry excuse me.” Yeonjun raced to his dressing room just so he can watch Estrella perform. “Wah~ she’s too gorgeous.” Yeonjun looks up at the tv seeing Estrella little winks and flirty smiles. It felt like she was singing to only him and no one else. Maybe he is a little delusional, but who isn’t nowadays. “Are you going to try and talk to her?” One of his male staff members asks. Yeonjun looks at him with eyebrows raised and wide eyes, “are you crazy?” Making the staff member laugh. “She’s way out of my league.”

Yeonjun continues to watch the performance and feeling envy of the male dancer that was dancing with Estrella, wishing it was him instead. “I mean you’re handsome. You might have a shot?” The staff member shrugs. “You’re not helping me or my thoughts.” Yeonjun huffs, and throws himself on the couch while groaning. Yeonjun was thankfully that Inkigayo kept Estrella being the special guest a secret otherwise Yeonjun would’ve been freaking out the day leading up. ‘Wait special guest? Why does that sound so familiar? Like I heard it before-‘

“Estrella is coming to the Hybe building?!” Yeonjun scares everyone in the room. “Oh…we forgot to tell you.” Another staff member speaks. “Yeah, Jungkook is suppose to show her around.” Yeonjun stops his eye from twitching from hearing the news. Instead he grabs the nearest pillow and slaps it over his face and yells into it. “I feel better now.” He acts like nothing happened.

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

“Did it look good?” Estrella is now back in the dressing room getting ready to perform ‘Eleven’. “You looked amazing!” Sana squeals, while doing her makeup again. “The stage was on point too.” Daya compliments, as she’s putting Estrella’s hair in a ponytail. “Thank you guys. You both did so well too.” Estrella thanked her girls.

“Since Megan isn’t in the room right now. What’s up with you making those lovey dovey eyes at mister mc.” Daya couldn’t help herself. While Sana and her were watching the interview through the tv they both gave each other the ‘look’ while watching Estrella interact with Yeonjun. “Stop! I was literally thinking about what Megan was telling yesterday and he just popped up.” Estrella whines. “He’s just so tall and cute–i can’t!” Estrella shakes her head, making the girls laugh.

It was finally time to perform ‘Eleven’ and once again Megan walks Estrella to a newly themed stage. “Once you finish performing don’t leave the stage because everyone is going to come back in and then they’re going to do the award ceremony.” Megan explains while checking Estrella mic pack and soothing her outfit. “Award?” Estrella questions. “Mm, every music program here gives an award to the group with the most votes. It’s pretty important here to the idols.” Megan gives a briefing. “Ah ok.” Estrella gives the ‘ok’ sign making Megan chuckles.

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

The second Estrella steps on the stage cheers erupted shocking Estrella. “Oh my gosh,” she smiles big. “Thank you starrys~” Estrella waves at everyone. “You give me lots of strength.” Starrys gave loud cheers making Estrella pout trying not to get emotional. “Stand by.” The staff speaks through the mic. Estrella and her dancers get in position, “we got this everyone.” She whispers to her female dancers. Everyone could see how much Estrella loves the stage with the way she carries herself within the performance, and how effortlessly she sings and dances, along with her animated facial expressions. All the idols were watching from the sidelines amazed and instantly getting inspired by watching such a big admirable artist perform right in front of them.

As the performance came to an end Estrella did heart cheek pose causing everyone to scream, even the idols caught themselves slipping while cheering. The cameras briefing cut so the idols can get back on the stage to start the award ceremony. Estrella didn’t know where she had to stand, so she went all the way to the left side away from the cameras. Many idols were bowing at her which she of course bowed back, but it was funny because once Estrella bows back at them they would freak out with excitement making her giggle at them.

“Estrella-ssi please move to the center.” The staff member came to Estrella guiding her to stand next to Woonhak. Right after the mcs start reading their little script which Estrella was just scanning the audience giving little waves at them. Honestly, Estrella wasn’t really paying attention because in her head she knows that she not going to win, she just got there plus she doesn’t know who’s the most popular groups here. That is until she saw her face being a nominee, “huh?” Estrella is surprised. She watch as all the numbers max out on every category crowning her the winner. The confetti canons scared her causing her let out a little scream making everyone laugh at her reaction. Jihu passes the little award to Estrella while Yeonjun passes the big flower bouquet to her. “You were great, congratulations.” Yeonjun smiles at her. Estrella thanked them before grabbing the mic Woonhak had for her. “T-thank you, I’m really surprised right now. I literally just got here yesterday and I’m very thankful for all the support I have been receiving. I will be sure to repay all this support with even better music and even better performances, thank you starrys~”

Estrella was about to walk off before Megan stopped her and quickly explained that she had to do an encore stage. Estrella pulled her dancers back up and they all sang and danced to ‘Eleven’. Estrella even made a fan sing the chorus while jumping around touching her fans hands and blowing kisses.

Just before heading out of the broadcast station Estrella filmed about 6 TikToks with different groups. Estrella instantly changed back to her regular clothes before the whole team made their way out to the car. Many fans waited for Estrella to tell her how well she did, to make sure to rest, and to hand her more fan letters. Estrella and her team made it safely to their car while accepting the letters from starrys. “Thank you again starrys. Get home safely and eat lots.” Estrella gave a couple of poses before rolling up her window.

Estrella lets out a big yawn and rests her head against the window. “I’m going to take the fattest nap.” Estrella got herself comfortable. “You find Yeonjun attractive huh?” Megan crossing her arms. “What?!”

You & Me album

Eleven(title track) originally IVE

You & Me originally JENNIE

Don’t blink originally AESPA

Hard to love originally ROSÉ

Holy moly originally IVE

Looking at me originally SABRINA CARPENTER

All night originally IVE

taglist»-♡→ @iveivory @jjkluver7 @lively-potter @angie-x3

#txt yeonjun #txt scenario #txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt fanfic #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun x oc #yeonjun fanfic #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun imagine #bts jungkook #jungkook x oc #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 1 month ago

Note

How do you think the ice out of the Sussexes will play long term? So far it seems pretty effective. They’re very destructive themselves

Well, I think it's clear that even if they stay together, they're married in name only, otherwise living mostly separate lives in their hotel rooms and pool houses or different wings (depending on your Olive Garden theory) or corporate apartments as they seem to do now. So...

I think Meghan is the more destructive, and self-destructive, one, though. Whatever happens, it'll be worse for her than it will be for Harry. I think the gossip (confirmed leaks and pure speculation alike) hints that he's held in much higher standing than she is, which innoculates him a bit from her ruin - especially since he still has the BRF to fall back on, even if it's only Charles and even if it's in PR only.

So because Meghan is the more destructive one, she's probably going to end up ruined, reputation-wise. She won't be able to get the clothes, the merch contracts, the occasional Hollywood gala. Her content deals are basically finished, ARO is DOA, and Archewell has tax issues. She'll get her memoir, but it won't do as well as she expects and I wouldn't be surprised if it's panned worse than Spare.

Harry will be fine - he doesn't merch, he doesn't go to Hollywood galas (unless he's bought himself an award), Spotify was all Meghan, Harry's solo projects for Netflix are an ego trip but they do ok, he's not anywhere close to ARO, and Archewell is linked more to Meghan than it is to Harry.

Meghan will probably hang onto Harry and plus-one him everywhere she can in a bid to rehabilitate her reputation. I don't expect it to work the way she wants it to, and she'll probably end up on one of the career-redemption reality shows: Dancing with the Stars or Real Housewives. She might even try to get an Oprah miniseries out of it, the way Lindsay Lohan and Sarah Ferguson did, but I don't think Oprah does that kind of show anymore. Not post-pandemic.

The problems for Harry kick in if there's a divorce and he goes back to the UK. And those problems are the issue of surrogacy and tampering with the line of succession, the secrets/discussions revealed in Spare, and the lawsuts, but those are easy to spin. If it's true there was surrogacy, Archie's will be covered up by the BRF because it implicates Charles too and Lili's will be pinned on Meghan using a claim of abuse and control because it happened in LA. For Spare, the BRF will probably use Harry's own "these are my memories and my memories are f*cked" disclaimer as well as The Queen's/Kate's "recollections may vary". The lawsuits will quietly go away.

If Harry goes back to the UK, he'll be a pariah but as long as Charles is okay having him around (and by all PR accounts, it looks like he is), everyone else will tolerate him existing.

Some more theories about a post-divorce Harry from a couple of months ago.

But Harry will still end up in a better space than Meghan.

#sussexes #theories

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katakaluptastrophy · 6 months ago

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This may be something you have already covered, or considered and discarded, but. Thoughts on Jod being trans?

Because it seemed slightly odd to me, that a AMAB kid going to his grandmother’s house would be allowed to play with his mum’s toys. Especially if they’re “traditionally girly” toys, as opposed to being told to run around or given a ball to do sports.

Whereas a little AFAB kid would gladly be given his mum’s dolls by a traditional grandma and told to play nicely and quietly. Not identifying with the Barbies so much as finding them so pretty (especially compared to the Ken dolls that look nothing like him, which he feeds to Ulysses the dog).

And then, two or three decades later and finding that he is now God. He has consumed the Earth and her siblings and made her anew.

How easy is it to change the bits about himself he never felt were right? To remake himself as God in the flesh? To look upon himself and say, it is good?

"When I was seven, you know, all Nana had to play with in her house was some of Mum's old toys. And my favouite out of all of them..." He gave a long, shuddering sigh. "My favourite was her old Hollywood Hair Barbie," he murmured. "I loved her little gold outfit and her long yellow hair. She was the best. She got to have all the adventures. There was also a Bride's Dream Midge, but Mum had cut Midge's hair into this weird mullet. It was Barbie for me." She looked at him. He looked at her. He added, "Not Hollywood Hair Ken. Mum had him too, but he was a creep. I gave him to Nana's dog to eat."

This is what we get when John is describing the "scraps of id" that lead him to make Alecto look like some kind of nightmarish Barbie. The 'id' is, psychoanalytically, the most instinctual, basic part of the self. If John is being truthful here, then he's expressing something very basic about himself and his motivations in making Alecto.

I'm not convinced that we can infer anything about his Nana's attitude towards what toys a child should be allowed to play with. John is probably born somewhere between the mid 90s to the mid 20s, so it's just as possible that John playing with his mum's old Barbies is evidence that his family was fairly progressive. Or too poor to afford new toys. Or just ambivalent about the toys he played with.

In terms of John and gender, or at least John and masculinity, this interview has an interesting insight into what Tamsyn might be doing with that:

the God of the Locked Tomb IS a man; he IS the Father and the Teacher; it’s an inherently masc role played by someone who has an uneasy relationship himself to playing a Biblical patriarch. John falls back on hierarchies and roles because they’re familiar even when he’s struggling not to. Even he identifies himself as the God who became man and the man who became God.

Though of course, to quote a different interview, this is a series where "readers will end up STICKY and GREASY with GENDER and BIBLE" and where Lyctorhood is "a huge genderfuck".

So I think there's certainly scope for trans readings of John, which shift the framework for the way that John is positioning himself in relation to his masc roleplaying of god. There's a number of elements that would have a very different resonance in such readings, not least putting Alecto into such a specific version of a woman's body, and the tension between his own exercise of bodily autonomy and his utter restriction and violation of others' bodily autonomy.

Personally, my take is that John is meant to be a type of cis man I'm sure many of us have met - one who is at pains to demonstrate his feminism, who perhaps finds the boundaries of masculinity confining to some extent, but who is ultimately unwilling to examine how deeply those boundaries are part of the way he views the world and interacts with others. And with John, this is writ large, quite literally: endowed with godlike power, he falls back on the patriarchal image of god. John may go out of his way to tell us that the maternity problem was important to him, that he played with Barbies, that he *cares*, but at the end of the day that introspection doesn't translate into his actions.

Regardless of how John came to his relationship with masculinity, he's stuck with - or perhaps in context we could say haunted by - a very particular conception of patriarchal masculinity.

#the locked tomb #tlt meta #john gaius

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i-think-i-did-it-again · 1 year ago

Text

The Tour I

“Stop looking at me like that all the damn time,” you growl. Even his stare now is making your insides tighten.

“Like what?” he quirks his eyebrow in confusion, swirling his thick metal ring around his index finger absentmindedly.

“Like I’m the most important person in the room,” you whisper.

“But you are.”

“I knew I should’ve never agreed to do this.”

You drag yourself off the couch and head for the door but his hand wrapped around your wrist stops you.

“Let you pay me…I feel so dirty,” you sigh and look anywhere but at his crystal blue orbs.

“What the fuck do you mean pay you?!”

Oh fuck…

3 months, 2 week and 1 day earlier

Kells was on a downward spiral and everyone could see it but no one knew what to do. No one knew why though. Any time someone attempted to talk to him, to try and help him, he’d bite their head off and say he was fine. You hadn’t tried to talk to him, though. You knew him well enough to know that trying to talk to him was pointless and you didn’t particularly feel like being yelled at by him. Everyone else was finally starting to get the hint and everyone was avoiding him like the black plague. It was going to be pretty hard for everyone to pretend he didn’t exist when their American tour began in 2 weeks. 3 months, a tour bus and a bunch of hotels meant being in each other’s pockets on a daily basis.

You were thankfully not going because as just a friend in the group, with no part in the band, tour or managerial capacity, you don’t have to go. Sure you miss your friends when they’re all away on tour but you and Colson have an unspoken agreement that while he’s away on tour, you have free reins on his massive house in the Hollywood Hills. Sort of like a house sitter without the pay and you don’t have to spend the night every night if you don’t want to. You usually do though.

Colson always ensures the fridge and pantry are stocked with your favourite snacks and sodas. His big ass flatscreen is connected to all the streaming services and well as the latest gaming consoles. Not to mention the very large heated pool in his backyard that overlooks the city. The guest room, just down the hallway from the master, is about the same size as your apartment. A large king size bed sits in the middle of the room, a small sofa in front of the tv mounted on the wall opposite, a large window bench seat that overlooks the small garden below and a walk-in wardrobe that puts your pocky closet to shame.

Colon ensures your favourite candles are scattered around the room to make you feel more at home. He always teases you about your candle obsession but that doesn’t stop him from feeding into it. You secretly think he loves them too but is too macho to admit it. You always catch him inhaling deeply whenever he steps into your apartment.

Being at Colson’s house is the reset from your life that you need sometimes, you hadn’t realised how much you relied on it until the thought of it not happening becomes a big possibility.

Ashleigh had been nervous about going on tour for months now, ever since Colson’s antics became more extreme, bit by bit. You weren’t overly surprised by her desperate phone call a few weeks before the tour, inviting you over to her house for a chat. She confided in you a lot more than anyone else because she knew anything she said to you would stay between the two of you.

At the beginning, the spiral was pretty on par with Colson’s usual antics. Drinking, way too much weed, partying. After a few weeks though, the group began to get worried. He kept upping the ante. Drinking to the point of a buzz became drinking until he blacked out. Weed turned into trying to buy pills at 3am in downtown Hollywood and getting arrested because the ‘dealer’ was an undercover cop. Luckily the record labels lawyers were able to talk the cops down to a fine. The partying remained pretty much the same, the parties just went for days and days.

Everyone was concerned but it didn’t turn into full blown panic until Colson cancelled plans with Cassie. She was due to come during the summer for a month before the next tour began and Colson just…called it off. Cassie was devastated. You still remember the pain in her voice when she called you in tears to tell you. It was heartbreaking. You got straight in your car to go and see Colson and tear him a new one but he was too hammered to even understand what you were saying. He never blows off his daughter. The one time he truly opened up to you, he told you how guilty he feels about how much of her childhood he’s missing out on. That was the first time you felt that pang of overwhelming fear that something was desperately wrong.

You walk straight through Ashleigh’s front door, dying to get out of the California heat. You hear the sound of muffled voices coming from her kitchen. A deep male voice is the most prominent, mostly because he sounds pissed. You don’t recall Ashleigh mentioning having a meeting today so you assume it’s ok for you to interrupt whatever the discussion that’s happening. When you step into the kitchen, everyone stops talking and there’s 4 pairs of eyes on you. Ashleigh looks sympathetic and borderline mortified but the 2 men and woman look less than pleased.

“Hey, Y/N, thanks for coming on such short notice,” Ashleigh says, giving you a small smile.

When you take in the appearance of her guests, you suddenly feel very underdressed in your short linen sundress. Ashleigh looks nervous when she invites you to sit before turning her attention back to the very red looking man in the crisp, definitely expensive suit. His eyes scrutinise you with a terrifying gaze, so intimidating you have to look away after a few seconds.

“Sorry to interrupt, I didn’t know you were in a…meeting?” it unintentionally comes out as a question because the stare of the man is still on you and it makes you unsure.

“You’re late,” the man grumbles and his voice is as commanding as you’d imagined. “Look, I don’t have a lot of time to beat around the bush so let's cut to the chase.”

“Francis,” the woman says with a warning tone and she frowns softly when he finally looks at her. “None of this is her fault, let's remember that shall we?” she gives you an apologetic smile that immediately puts you at ease and suddenly you’re not as intimidated.

“Fine,” Francis grumbles and you can see him make a strained effort to relax the vein pulsing in his neck. “Colson’s actions lately are making us and frankly our lawyers very nervous. As I’m sure you can understand, normally we’d drop him for not meeting his contractual obligations but with a tour starting in less than 2 weeks that just isn’t a viable option. Many people have spent too much time and money making this happen and we’re not wasting all of that by cancelling.”

“And you wouldn’t want to disappoint the fans, right?” you interject knowing full well that the thought didn’t even cross their money hungry minds.

“Yes, of course,” he gripes at you and Ashleigh begs you to keep your mouth shut with her eyes. “That’s where you come in,” he points a pudgy finger at you and you grimace internally. “We need you to join them on tour and make sure everything runs smoothly.”

You look at Ashleigh with your jaw on the floor and for the first time since you got there, Ashleigh avoids you. Why would they need you to go on tour to keep Colson in line when that’s Ashleigh’s job? Did she get fired? No way would you replace one of your closest friends just to satisfy some lawyers and record execs. Before you can open your mouth to decline, the woman speaks again.

“We understand that this is a lot to take in and obviously you will need time to think about it-”

“We will need your answer within 48 hours, we have a tour to plan after all Kathy,” Francis interjects and Kathy’s jaw flexes with irritation. You get the feeling Francis interrupts a lot.

“And we will of course pay you for your time, pay for any and all expenses associated with your hotels, food and flights. Once we have your answer we can work out all the finer details but we will give you time to talk it over with Ashleigh and your current employer.”

You blanch internally. As of 3 days ago, you’re actually unemployed after your company decided to make some ‘necessary cutbacks’, translation: layoffs. You hadn’t told any of your friends because even though they never make you feel any less, you know you have a hell of a lot less money than them and this will only make money tighter for you.

You never want to feel like a charity case with them so you always make sure to pay your own way, never take advantage. Even when you stay at Colson’s house when he’s on tour, you ensure you keep the house clean, collect his mail, water the few plants he has and keep the pool clean. Last time he was gone, you even reorganised his pantry for him. He spent months calling you to ask where certain things were even though everything was labelled.

The suits didn’t stick around for too much longer after their proposal. Ashleigh walks them out and you hear Francis insist that they have an answer within 48 hours, again. You’re tempted to get up and rip into him about how to speak to people but you decide against it when you hear Ashleigh’s reassurances. You know in a way that Ashleigh deals with Colson’s record label more than he does and you don’t want to make the relationship more strained for her. When she comes back to the dining room, you want to stand and envelop her in a hug. Her face just looks defeated. Has she looked that way for long? You feel guilty that you hadn’t noticed that everything going on with Colson has taken a toll on his oldest friend in the world.

“When was the last time you got a full night’s sleep?” you ask her, concern lacing your tone. You don’t want to tell her but she looks awful.

“Depends, what month is it?” she tried to make a joke but her face was too exhausted to muster a smile.

“Ash…what the fuck is going on?”

“They…they don’t think I can handle him on my own anymore and to be honest, I don’t think they’re wrong. Between trying to keep him from an early grave, keep his bad publicity out of the media and keep the upcoming tour on track and organised, I’m drowning. I had to send Ashton to stay with my mom so I could work around the clock. The record label wanted some PR lady to take over and I just-I couldn’t let them do that. Not only would Colson flip at the idea of a ‘babysitter’, he would just rebel even harder against whoever they sent and that would make everyone’s lives miserable. They demanded I come up with a solution and I just panicked. I blurted out your name and the plan just formed as I spoke. I’m so sorry to drag you into this but I just thought if it was you, Colson would go easier on you and I’m just…I’m exhausted.”

You convinced Ashleigh to go and lie down for a little bit, to try and catch up on some much needed sleep. You take her phone off her to ensure she’s not disturbed by anyone. You assure her, multiple times, that you’re not upset that she talked the record label into asking for your help. You know she was just trying to protect Colson from a stranger who wouldn’t understand him or what he needs.

Still, the thought of going on tour makes your stomach twist into knots and a burning sensation begins in your throat. You can honestly say you’ve never had any desire to go on tour with your friends and it has absolutely nothing to do with you using Kells’ house while he’s gone, although that is a huge perk. The thought of going to all those different cities, different time zones, living out of a suitcase, eating nothing but greasy food and living off potato chips and coffee doesn’t appeal to you in any way. Of course, they always come back with wild stories from their time on the road but they also always look completely exhausted and a little irritated with each other. It’s the one time you get to hang out with each of them one on one because none of them like to see each other for at least a week after the tour is over.

The more you thought about it, the more you’d talked yourself out of going. That was until you spent an hour with Ashleigh’s cell. The thing did not shut up. Text messages, emails, phone calls, media updates. The thing was a notification love bomb. There were things about the tour, messages from Francis pressuring her about Colson’s latest behaviours. Rook had to drag him out of his car last night to stop him from driving while half-baked, half drunk and half belligerent about needing a burger at 3am. You can tell by the messages from Francis that Colson is on his last strike when it comes to the law. The last thing that he can afford is to be arrested again. No lawyer would be able to save him from his second arrest in a month.

You know you came into this group because of your friendship with Rook but everyone feels so important to you now that you feel like it’s your duty to help them in any way possible. Everyone has been trying their best to keep Colson in line and everyone up until this point has been struggling. That kind of made you wonder why Ashleigh thought how you getting involved could end any differently than anyone else so far. You make a mental note to ask her that question while you’re making some dinner for her to eat once she wakes up.

You place the spaghetti in a bowl on her bench and cover it in plastic wrap. You leave a post-it note on top of the food with a love heart and tidy your mess up. Once the dishes are done, you put her phone on Do Not Disturb with an hour timer and sneak it onto her bedside table before leaving. You drive in silence, not bothering to connect your phone to your ancient Bluetooth system, because you need your mind to be completely clear. You run through a list of pros and cons in your mind.

Pros: you’d get to spend time with all your favourite people, you’d get to see new cities, you’d actually be a part of a fun tour story instead of just hearing about it after the fact, you’d get to see Colson live in concert every night and see a whole new side to him, you’d make some money out of it.

Cons: tour hasn’t even started and you’re already exhausted by the thought of it, you don’t want to live out of a suitcase, you’d miss your own bed, you need to find a new job which you can’t do on the road, you have bills to pay, you have no one to look after your apartment or collect your mail, you don’t know if you’ll be able to handle spending so much time around Colson.

That last con has you almost calling Ashleigh to decline on the spot. When you first started hanging with Rook’s best friend you developed a crush, bad. Spending time with him was hard because there were all these things you wanted to do or say but you just had to bite your tongue and sit on your hands. Eventually, after pushing your feelings down hard enough, they began to lessen but it took a lot of effort on your part. Watching Colson parade a different woman around every weekend helped but still, it was hard. You’ve made it a point not to spend a lot of one on one time with him in order to keep your feelings in check but going on this tour for the sole purpose of keeping him out of trouble means spending a lot of time with him.

You think you’ve come to the inevitable conclusion you were pretty sure was always going to be your answer, no, but then Ashleigh’s exhausted face crosses your mind. Your shoulders slump and you take a deep inhale. Pulling your car to a stop out the front of your apartment, you pull your phone out and dial Ashleigh’s number.

“Hey!” she answers on the third ring, sounding much chipper after her nap. “Thank you so much for the spaghetti, it was delicious!”

“Hey, you’re welcome. I wanted to give you my answer so you don’t have to spend the next 48 hours stressing.”

“Oh, please don’t rush on my account. Take your time. Francis gave you 48 hours for a reason, it’s a big decision,” she sounds absolutely terrified.

“I’ll do it.”

“Oh my god! Thank you so much Y/N! I owe you big time. I’ll call Francis straight away so they can organise your contract and pay,” she sounds almost giddy and her enthusiasm begins to rub off onto you.

“I’m just glad I can help alleviate some of your stress. I am worried about how I’m going to tell Kells that I’m coming as his official ‘handler’,” you chuckle but Ashleigh doesn’t laugh along with you.

“I’ll let Kells know you’re coming,” her tone is clipped like she’s annoyed you’d want to let him know yourself but then her voice relaxes a little. “I’m so excited you’re coming hun.”

“Me too,” you agree with a smile.

You say your goodbyes and hang up the phone, suddenly feeling very unsure about your decision. Maybe you were acting a bit rash but you just can’t stand to see your friends struggling like Ashleigh was. You’re not 100% sure how you’re going to make her life any easier because you haven’t exactly been dealing with Colson like everyone else but you’ll have to just wing it and hope it works out.

Well…here goes nothing.

#colson baker #machine gun kelly #mgk #tickets to my downfall #mgk imagine #ttmdf #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #machine gun kelly imagine #mgk x reader #colson baker x reader #mgkxx #est19xx #machine gun kelly x reader #mgk fanfic #mgk angst

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bradshawsbaby · 1 year ago

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Letters to My Love // Part IX

Dream A Little Dream Of Me

Series Masterlist

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Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: When you signed up to volunteer with the USO, you never anticipated that you would meet a man like Ensign Robert Floyd. Fate brings you together one balmy spring evening in Charleston—the night before Bob is set to ship off across the Atlantic. Pen and paper become your only means of sharing your heart with the naval aviator who’s captivated it, igniting a correspondence that spans the distance between you. Can love blossom even as war rages and thousands of miles keep you apart?

Word Count: 3.2k

Author’s Note: Bobby and Peach’s story continues! Hope you all enjoy this latest installment!

Set the Mood: If you’re looking for some 1940s vibes, check out the playlist I made to pair with the story.

The title of this chapter comes from the popular song of the same name. Click here to listen to the first ever recording of the song from 1931!

Dedication: As always, this story is dedicated to my dear friend, @luminousnotmatter. Clara, thank you, thank you, thank you for your support of this story!

Warnings: Alternating POV, allusions to the physical and emotional cost of war, lots of sweet fluff.

April 28, 1943

Dearest Peach (or is it Cookie now?),

I have to tell you, this game of tag might just be the best version of the game I’ve ever played. I sure was surprised—and pleased, believe me—when I opened your last letter to find another photograph inside. The other fellas on the carrier are starting to grumble about how they hardly ever get photos from their girls back home, so you’ve managed to make me quite a big shot around here. Tommy Boy told me just the other day that word’s spreading about how “Floyd’s always getting these pictures from a pretty girl back stateside.” In all honesty, I think they’re just shocked that a gal as pretty as you would be writing to a boring guy from the sticks like me.

Now I don’t want you to think I’m gloating or anything when you send me photos, Peach—although your pretty face DOES deserve to be on billboards, in my humble opinion. It’s just that carriers are smaller than you’d think, in terms of news spreading around, It doesn’t help matters that Benny is always looking over my shoulder during Mail Call, and that when I opened your most recent letter, he stood up on our bench and shouted “Bobby Boy’s got another picture, fellas!” Don’t you worry, though. I tucked your photo into my pocket, right over my heart, and wouldn’t let any of the others see it, no matter how much they begged. Serves them right for being so nosy.

All that to say, it’s a wonderful picture and it brought a big old smile to my face to see how happy you all looked at Christmastime. Please send my highest compliments to Dottie. You and your sister look so much alike, you could both be Hollywood starlets. I especially love your matching smiles—prettier than the angel on top of the Christmas tree. And Frankie is the spitting image of Paddy, my goodness! It’s funny, Paul, Jr. looks just like Paul, too. Maybe the boys will both grow up and go to Annapolis together. You know, following in their fathers’ footsteps and all that. Wouldn’t that be something if they both joined the Navy one day?

Speaking of us “squids,” as our Marine brothers are so wont to call us, I’m glad to hear that you enjoyed the photos that I sent with my last letter. Tommy Boy and Benny have been bragging to anyone who will listen that you have our pictures displayed on your desk. I made the mistake of letting them know that you think they’re very handsome, but don’t worry, I kept it just between us that you think I’m the most handsome. They’re good guys and I wouldn’t want to go bruising their egos or anything like that.

Mike is the name of the fella on board who has the camera and took the pictures for us. He’s hoping he can get his hands on some more film soon so that he can take some more photographs while we’re over here. He likes to send them back home to his fiancee in Arkansas. He’s a solid guy, Mike is. He even told me he’d be happy to take some more pictures for me to send to you when he’s able to—if you’d like that, that is.

I’m glad to know that you don’t mind me writing a little bit about you to my family. I received a letter from my mother the same day I received your letter, and she said you sound like the loveliest girl and that you’re more than welcome on the Floyd farm anytime you happen to find yourself in Linn County, Iowa. When I was writing back to her, I didn’t have the heart to tell her that nobody just so happens to find themselves in Linn County, Iowa. But the offer still stands! My mama would be more than happy to bake you all the pumpkin pies your heart desires. And she’d be more than happy to hear about that peach cobbler recipe, too!

Paul wanted me to tell you that you have no reason to be embarrassed about the punch spill, and that, in fact, you should put it out of your mind completely. He’s sitting across me from right now as I write this, writing his own letter back home to Natasha and the kids. Clara’s just learning to recognize her letters and read some basic words, and Paul, Jr. can’t read at all yet of course, so Paul includes little drawings for them when he writes. Natasha says they love them, and that Clara always carries his letters around when they’re running errands to show off to all the neighbors. “Look at Daddy’s pictures!” she tells them. He really is a good artist, you know. One of these days, I’m going to have him draw something for you. Anything in particular you’d like to see?

Oh, please don’t be embarrassed about my overhearing that conversation! That’s the last thing I want you to feel. You have no reason to be embarrassed, Peach. If anything, it’s that Eddie guy who should feel embarrassed for doing that to a lady. But like you—and Dottie—said, everything happens for a reason. I believe that, too. And I believe that good things can come out of even the worst circumstances. Take this war, for example. It’s awful. There’s no sugarcoating it or making it sound better than it is. It’s just plain awful. In the time I’ve been over here, I’ve seen and heard things that I’ll never be able to forget, things that make you question how human beings can do such things to one another. But I’ve also seen instances of such heroism and bravery, of people doing all they can to stick their necks out for each other and see each other home safely, and I think that that’s got to count for something, too. Don’t you think so, Peach? I know you’re all doing your part back home, too, and that means the world to us over here. We can feel it, and we appreciate it more than you can know. So you see? Good things can still come out of the hard times.

Like you and me meeting, for another thing. I can’t say that I’m grateful for this war, but I am thankful that it brought us together and allowed our paths to cross that night in Charleston. I’ll always be thankful for that, Peach. Not a day goes by that I don’t count my lucky stars that Paul finally convinced me to go to that dance that night. It was the last place in the world I wanted to be, but it turned out to be just the place I needed to be. Everything happens for a reason, right?

Speaking of that night at the dance, I had a dream the other night about dancing with you, Peach. We were at the USO dance at first, but then we were suddenly on the beach. As a farm boy from Iowa, you can imagine that I haven’t spent much time on the beach in my lifetime. But I suppose my subconscious remembers all the beaches I saw in Charleston, because there we were, dancing in the sand while the waves were crashing in. Do you like going to the beach? Like I said, there’s none in landlocked Iowa, but I’d be more than happy to let you be my tour guide when it comes to the best beaches South Carolina and Georgia have to offer.

It’s funny, I don’t usually remember my dreams, but I remember that one quite vividly. I woke up thinking I could still taste saltwater on my tongue and feel you in my arms. Maybe that sounds a little silly, but it’s true. It was the best dream I’ve ever had, I’m sure of it.

It does sound like little Frankie is quite the mischief-maker! Hiding keys already? Something tells me he’s going to give Dottie and Paddy a run for their money when he gets older! From everything you’ve told me, I really do think he and Paul, Jr. would make the best of friends. I imagine the two of them would get into even more mischief than Paul and I did when we were growing up!

Gosh, I wish more than anything that I could be there dancing with you, Peach. But I’m holding the thought of you dancing to “We’ll Meet Again” real close to my heart until we really can meet again. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to hear that song without thinking of you now.

Please do keep me updated on your Victory Garden efforts! I’m looking forward to hearing all about it. Believe me, no one could have a browner thumb than me—just ask Paul, Natasha, and pretty much my entire family—so I’m sure you and Dottie will do a wonderful job!

And Happy Belated Easter, Peach! I hope you had a lovely day with your family. We actually had a bit of exciting news that reached us on Easter Sunday. The Royal Navy sent word that they managed to sink a German U-boat off the coast of [REDACTED], which is hopefully a good sign for all the rest of us. I hope this war comes to an end soon. It feels like we’ve been fighting forever.

I hope that the South Carolina sunshine is treating you right, and that you’re safe and well. I can’t wait until your next letter arrives (I’ll try to keep Benny from looking over my shoulder next time).

Most Truly Yours,

Bobby

May 24, 1943

My Dear Bobby,

Don’t worry, it’s still Peach to you, and it always will be. Frankie is learning so many new words every day that I’m sure I’ll only be Aunt Cookie for a little while longer. But I’d like to stay Peach for a good long while, if that’s alright with you.

I’m sorry to disappoint all the fellas on the carrier—particularly Benny—by not including any new photographs with this letter. I’ll try to amend that next time. But I absolutely do not believe that it should come as any kind of shock to anyone that you and I write to one another, Bobby. Boring? Who would dare call you boring? I’ll not have you talking about yourself like that, Robert Floyd, do you hear me? I could just as easily say that the people back in Charleston would be shocked to learn that a handsome naval aviator is writing to a girl as shy and mousey as me, but I know you wouldn’t like that. Just like I don’t like hearing you talk badly about yourself. So let’s promise one another we won’t do that anymore, hm?

Dottie sends profuse thanks for your sweet words about the Christmas photo—she actually blushed when I told her what you’d written! And I could tell that Paddy was all puffed up with pride when I told him that you thought Frankie looked just like him. Dottie agrees with you wholeheartedly, by the way. “Both my boys are so handsome!” she declared. I think Paddy blushed a little bit at that, though he’d never admit it.

My goodness, imagine Frankie and Paul, Jr. both joining the Navy when they’re older? I think you’re quite right that they’d make excellent friends—but heaven help the Navy with the double trouble those two would bring with all their mischief-making!

By the way, I asked Paddy about that nickname you said the Marines like to use—squids? I’ve never seen my brother-in-law turn so red so fast! “Oh, what do they know?” he demanded, waving his hands in the air. “They’re just a bunch of jarheads!” Squids? Jarheads? I never realized there was such a rivalry between you! No wonder the sailors and the Marines seem to stay on opposite sides of the room whenever the USO hosts an event! I hope you know that I don’t think you’re a squid, Bobby. But if you were, you’d be the cutest squid in the seven seas.

You’re very considerate not to bruise Tommy Boy’s and Benny’s egos, so thank you very much for keeping our little secret. Emily came over the other day—she’s still so excited about the wedding and she wanted me to help her go over some details—and she saw the pictures of you and the boys on my desk. She remembered Paul from the night of the dance, and she thought the rest of you looked familiar, too. She said to pass along her best wishes, and I passed along your congratulations on her and Eddie’s engagement. I hope you don’t mind.

That’s very sweet of your friend, Mike to offer to take more photos for you! Of course I’d love for you to send more, if you’re able to! Being able to see that you’re okay, even with all the miles and a war between us, makes me so happy.

Your mama is most generous and kind to extend that invitation! While I can’t say that I have any reason to be in Linn County, Iowa at the moment, I will be certain to look up the Floyd family farm if ever I should happen to be in town. And please let your mama—and all of your family—know that, should they ever find themselves in Charleston, South Carolina, the Sheridan residence is always open to them. Your mama and I can swap recipes. I know Dottie would love that.

I couldn’t help smiling from ear to ear when I read the part of your letter where you talked about Paul’s drawings for Clara and Paul, Jr.! What a wonderful father he is! And an artist, too? I’m very impressed! Not to mention thankful to him for his unending kindness. I can see why the two of you are the best of friends—you both have the same good hearts. Hmm, now as for what kind of drawing I would like, I suppose that would depend on what Paul specializes in. Does he do portraits? In that case, I’d like to see him draw one of you. Does he draw cartoons? I can only imagine how he’d portray a conversation between Tommy Boy and Benny. If neither of those, then perhaps Paul can draw me some peaches—I always think of you now, Bobby, whenever I eat them.

Oh, Bobby. Yes, I do believe it counts for something when people try to hold onto their goodness in the midst of so much evil and bad. We know so little of what you’re facing over there beyond the small bits that we read in the newspaper or hear on the radio. I can’t even begin to imagine what it’s like to be living in it every day. I wish that I could hold you tight and make all the bad memories go away. But since I can’t, I’m glad to know that you’re able to find the glimpses of good where you can.

Without a doubt, everything happens for a reason, and I believe there’s a reason that you and I met that night, Bobby. Maybe a reason that’s bigger than you and I can ever understand. I’m grateful that our paths crossed, too. So, so grateful. I know this might sound silly considering we’ve only actually been together in person for a few hours, but you’ve helped me come out of my shell more than you can know. I’ve always been so shy, Bobby. Painfully so. It’s not easy for me to talk to new people, or people that I don’t know very well. It’s especially not easy for me to talk to handsome boys like you. But that night at the dance and during our walk on King Street—you made me feel seen, Bobby. And heard. Hardly anyone outside my family has ever made me feel that way. And then we started writing letters to each other and you’ve just been so easy to talk to, so easy to share my heart with. Thank you for that, Bobby. It means more to me than you can possibly imagine. So yes, I thank my lucky stars for that night, too.

Did you really have a dream about me? I’m blushing to think so, but now I don’t feel so shy to tell you that I’ve dreamed about you, too. In my dream, we were back at the ice cream parlor on King Street, sharing an ice cream sundae with lots of whipped cream and cherries on top. When you come home, we’ll have to take a drive to Folly Beach and get ice cream on the pier. I’ll be counting down the days until it happens!

Now speaking of our Victory Garden, Dottie and I are quite proud of the effort we put in this year! You’d think the two of us were a couple of regular old farm girls. We spent about a week or so clearing out the beds from last year and resoiling them. One of our neighbors, Mrs. Patterson had a beautiful garden last year, so she gave us a lot of helpful advice. We ended up planting beans, carrots, cucumbers, and tomatoes. It’s still a little too early to tell how they’ll end up, but they look promising so far! I think you’d be proud of us!

Things here on the homefront have been a little tricky as of late. I’m not sure if word has gotten over to you boys across the Atlantic, but some of the coal miners went on strike last month. It caused a bit of a crisis with regard to production and manufacturing. President Roosevelt delivered a fireside chat discussing the crisis earlier this month. He tried to remind all of us that it’s our patriotic duty to continue working and to do what we can for the war effort. I think Paddy was a bit worried about it, but the government has since taken control of the coal mines, and so we haven’t heard much more about it.

I want so badly to do my part for the war effort, Bobby. I think of you and Paul and Tommy Boy and Benny and all the others, risking your lives across the ocean to defend all of us back home. I want to do something, no matter how small, that can contribute and make a difference. There have been lots of women going to work in the factories ever since we entered the war. Some of them are filling their husbands’ and brothers’ positions while they’re off fighting. Paddy mentioned that they’re actually looking to fill civilian positions at Naval Air Station Charleston. It’s harder because of the background checks required, but I’d have a leg up, being Paddy’s sister-in-law. I’ve been thinking about asking Paddy to help me apply for a position. Do you think I should, Bobby? If it could be of any help to you and all the other men, I’d really like to give it a try. What do you think?

That’s wonderful news about the Royal Navy! Every time I hear about the Allies pushing further into Europe, or defeating our enemies in some way, it gives me a thrill of hope that maybe this all really will be over soon. I hope so, Bobby. I really hope so.

Even though there’s a few thousand miles between us, I hope you can feel all the good thoughts I’m sending your way. I can’t wait until I get your next letter. I always look forward to them.

Until next time, Bobby!

Most Affectionately Yours,

Peach

TAGLIST: @teacupsandtopgun @saturnsbabe69 @gigisimsonmars @marchingicenotes7 @high-speed-r @toobouquet @up-thereinthesky @lostinthefandoms11 @strangerparks @sweetwhispersofchaos

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman #WWII AU #1940s AU

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laundrybiscuits · 2 years ago

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Eden actually likes her name. When she thinks about the muslin-draped horrors she could’ve gotten stuck with, like poor Suzie, she feels guiltily glad she dodged that bullet. If she’d been the one who had to shoulder the impossible burden of being named Suzie, who knows how she might’ve turned out.

Eden is a word that could go a lot of ways. It’s almost as good as Lilith or Isis or something. It’s the kind of name that could be sexy, in the right hands. The kind of name you could say on stage: ladies and gentlemen, introducing the one and only Eden—

That’s where the picture stalls out, though. Eden Bingham is pretty awful, no matter how you spin it. She wants to pick a stage name like some glamorous Hollywood actress, but she hasn’t decided exactly what she wants yet. She thinks it would be real elegant to pick something French, like…like Verne.

There’s a battered paperback tucked under her mattress at home, where sticky, prying little fingers can’t get at it. She’s not a fast reader, but she’s read it about a million times by now. Sometimes when she can’t sleep, she’ll take it out and just squint at it in the moonlight, tracing her fingertips over the faded elephant on the cover. It’s a story about some guy who was so bored he decided to travel all around the world, and nobody stopped him. He could just go. He didn’t have any kids or anything that he had to take care of or look after; in fact, there was some guy whose whole job was to look after him.

For a little while, Eden thought about borrowing the main guy’s last name, but Eden Fogg sounds kind of old and stuffy. She could take the French valet’s name, but she’s not completely confident she knows how to pronounce Passepartout, and she’s terrified she’s going to say it wrong and nobody’s going to take her seriously ever again.

The author’s French too, though, and his name seems a lot easier to handle. So, lately she’s been looking in the mirror and saying Eden Verne, hi my name is Eden Verne real quiet to herself, just testing it out. She’s not sure about it yet, but it’s definitely better than Eden Bingham.

Eden Bingham is just a handful of years away from Edie Bingham, who spends her time looking after a house full of kids and wears shapeless floor-length dresses. But Eden Verne could be someone who travels and wears exciting makeup. Eden Verne drinks and swears and smokes, and she never has to deal with kids ever again. Beautiful, sophisticated men and women alike despair for love of her, but she never lets anyone stay more than a night.

Anyway, she doesn’t have to figure out if she can carry off Verne yet, because the stupid boy she followed halfway across the country introduced her to his friends as Eden Bingham, so she never got the chance to decide if she was going to say something different. She probably wouldn’t have, but—maybe she would. Maybe. She’ll never know.

The thing with Argyle fizzled out pretty quick. He’s cute, and making out with him is fun, but he doesn’t ever seem to want anything real out of life. Eden can’t understand him at all, and worse yet, she’s pretty sure he doesn’t understand her. When they’re high, they communicate just fine giggling about the cosmos, but that’s not enough. She’s sure there’s supposed to be more, even if she’s not entirely sure what that means.

She broke up with him on an impulse, and sometimes she regrets it. He’s a good guy. He’s not like any other guy she’s ever known. He’s willing to drive clear across the country, which is what she liked about him to begin with. Maybe that’s as good as it gets for her.

But she can’t take it back now. It’s not even that she thinks he’d say no, necessarily; she just can’t handle the idea of trying to walk back something like that. She’d die of humiliation before the words made it out of her mouth.

So Eden’s just here, in Hawkins, staying in her ex-fling’s best friend’s step-dad’s spare room because it’s still marginally better than having to hitch home to Utah. Argyle is planning to drive back to California in a few weeks, so she’s going to just ride with him then. In the meantime, she’s going to have a nice, quiet vacation in Indiana, doing whatever it is Midwesterners do in the summer, and then she’ll go home and nothing at all about the life of Eden Bingham will have changed.

#eden bingham #so yeah this is the robin rarepair I mentioned! I don't want to talk too much in the tags bc I want to see if I can sell it via narrative #obvs this is the same story as the matchmaking snippet I posted last night but I don't think it follows directly #I just wrote it & it seemed like a pretty self-contained thing so here u go #(also I'm kinda assuming this post is not going to be too popular given it has zero ship content and is about a very minor character haha)#(which is fine! that's just how fandom works! maximum engagement is not my goal I'm just here to try stuff out)#anyway there's a pretty good chance this'll get rewritten once I have a better handle on eden's voice #fic: somewhere sometime somehow

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p1nkcanoe · 1 year ago

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aurora’s showing swiss the pretty new dress she bought for herself, twirling around in circles and letting the bottom fan out, pretending she’s marilyn monroe from the pictures she’s seen in old hollywood magazines. she looks so pretty in it. smooth, shiny black satin and a tiny little bow right above the swell of her breasts. if you look hard enough there’s a very faint cheetah pattern hidden in the black. almost invisible. the bottom hem stops high on her thighs, almost too short to wear out, but that’s never been a problem before so why would it be one now?

swiss is doing a good job of keeping his hands to himself as he sits back comfortably against the headboard of his bed. neither of them expected he would be able to control himself, but he simply doesn’t want to ruin the serene moment they’re sharing and stop her from giving him a little show. besides, she really does look beautiful in it. her pink hair falls down along her back in loose curls and she still has a bit of mascara left on her eyes from the night before. she looks herself over, ignoring how golden eyes devour her backside as he watches from afar, and swiss pretends that she came in to his room to show him, to let him look over her curves and the way the shiny fabric falls like water over different parts of her body as she twists and turns, posing for the large standing mirror that leans up against the wall.

“it’s nice,” he says, a genuine smile on his lips, and he gives her body another once over with his eyes before he swings his long legs over the side of the bed and takes the few short steps to loom behind her. from this angle his head is out of the reach of the mirror’s reflection and aurora has to twist her head up to get a good look at him to make sure his little compliment is genuine and not just an excuse to touch it for the first time.

it is, but she pretends for her own sake that it’s not.

“thank you,” she replies and looks back to her own reflection, running her tiny hands down over her belly to watch how her silhouette looks in it. the little bit of fat there always makes swiss a little crazy. when he hums, more than pleased with the sight, she tilts her chin up and winks, “i think so too.”

the multi ghoul huffs in feigned disbelief and watches with her as her manicured hands trace down her sides, pulling the fabric taut around her hips. she turns around, twisting her head to watch how it looks when she pulls it tight around her ass and swiss tsks, brows raised towards his hairline.

“that’s nice too.”

“imagine how fat rain’s bubble butt would look in this dress. cirrus’ hips? oh satan below, lus in general? i’d cream.”

she continues to oggle her own ass, even giving it a little shake and a bounce on the balls of her feet to watch how it moves and swiss gets a little closer, bending at the waist just a bit to be able to crack a hand right across her left cheek and make her yelp in surprise. he eases the sting the best way he knows how: grabbing a chunk of it and kneading.

“watch the claws,” she says, the pain forgotten in regards to retaining the pristine condition of the dress. one of her hands grabs at his wrist but he doesn't let go.

“it’s brand new, swiss.”

he rolls his eyes and gives her ass another good shake before letting his hands trail upwards to her waist.

“yeah, yeah, i get it, princess. but if i mess it up i'll just buy you a new one…”

she’s about to argue something back about the pretty penny she’d spent on it and another thing about how long it took to ship to the abbey when swiss flexes his fingers around the smallest part of her middle and tosses her up over her shoulder like she weighs nothing at all. she flops over him like a sack of potatoes and sighs in defeat, letting her arms hang down along his back, because she’s been in this position enough times to know that it's ultimately up to him for whenever she gets to touch the ground again.

“don’t ruin the dress,” she mumbles into the fabric of his shirt, and lifts her head up slightly when she notices how the multi ghoul’s gone a little silent. and oddly still. “swiss?”

and he’d gone a little quiet for a good reason.

upon picking the ghoulette up, the already short hem of her dress had ridden up even more, exposing her ass and everything else underneath like it was christmas morning. and what does he see? a very surprising lack of panties underneath that pretty, black fabric.

“swiss?” she asks again, dragging out his name and pinching his ass.

there’s another moment of nothingness.

“i’m ruining the dress.”

“noooo!”

#swiss x aurora #swiss ghoul #aurora ghoulette #p1nk ficlet

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caustinen · 4 months ago

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Hollywood!Clegan AU request.....the proposal (and maybe a little bit of exploring how they handled John's desire to be more public vs. Gale's desire for privacy beforehand?) <3 <3 :)))))

hi dear, thank you for the ask and sorry for delay!! i was vacationing with a lot of people so it was difficult to find time to write anything and i still feel a bit out of the flow but i hope you like it <3

hollywood au! publicity talks and the proposal

initially the decision to date in secret comes from just convinience; john’s career is skyrocketing when they’re still deep in the honeymoon phase and there’s just so much going on that they don’t really even think about it, just start to be careful not to put gale in uncomforatble situations as bucky starts getting also unwanted attention from the public — he doesn’t know how to deal with that even by himself and seeing gale has a natural tendency to shy away from cameras/any attention it feels like a no-brainer. from there, the conversation comes slow but still years before they actually go public; at first, it’s not like a debate they choose to have at a certain moment or something, but it kind of happens naturally over the years — they talk about the public and the hiding and the pros and cons in all differnet contexts anyway — so it’s not a big deal when one day gale casually drops that he’d probably be willing to go through with it if they were married or getting there, kind of making it more long-term commitement despite both already feeling like this is the endgame since early in the relationship and not necessarily needing marriage as an institution to seal that. maybe gale said this very early on, maybe even jokingly, but bucky put it in a box in his head and sealed it.

after five years together talking about almost anything comes naturally, but it’s still a complicated subject so i think it would take quite some time to reach the decision. a lot of it would be filled with flirting too of course since it now involves a possible proposal, with bucky always talking about a hypothetical situation, very unlikely, that he would propose, what would happen then, and gale would tease him back, maybe even saying he’d take the heat of the public just to get access to bucky’s money if they were married or something silly like that. but they both notice the jokes are getting more frequent, and the emotions underneath are very real.

gale is mostly scared people will find shit about him/his family/esp his dad that would bring problems to bucky or revoke his own trauma; he’s no contact with his dad and doesn’t want that whole can of worms in some gossip magazine, and he definitely doesn’t want his dad to be able to make money out of selling his childhood pictures or stories to the media, using his relationship that has healed him to bring up old wounds again. over the years however he’s been able to work through some of his emotional locks with john and the past doesn’t have such a chokehold on him anymore, so it’s not as scary of a thought. the relationship is also established enough that all kinds of commenting can’t shake it as easily as it might have in the beginning. he’s also madly in love with bucky and thinks that it will probably anyway leak through some documentation if they get married so they might as well do it on their own terms! it’ll be easier to buy a house together etc. and just overall the more he thinks about it the more he wants to celebrate their love rather than let the world or the past control the good he has now.

to bucky, to be able to be open about their relationship is also pretty much a must if they get married; he’s tired of living a double life as if gale was some shameful secret, and he doesn’t want to have to hide his love anymore, and he doesn’t want to see gale pretend he’s single and being constantly approched by everyone even when they’re out together. he wants to put a ring on it and leave lovebites on his neck and rave about how talented and hardworking and kind his partner is. luckily they both reach this conclusion around the same time, so despite there of course being some tenseness along the way they both are confident in it when they decide gale will accompany bucky to his next premier.

i might come back to the propsal sometime later because i’m not getting any good ideas right now, but it think i’d like to write it as something quite simple — bucky would know the last thing game would want is some big public event — he’d plan something private and romantic, or maybe it could be even a ’heat of the moment’ type of a thing despite him having planned it for a long time; maybe they’re visiting Wyomming (ofc not for Gale’s parents but maybe old friends or for something else) and you take the man out of the city not the city out the man because gale is still a country girl at heart, he’s relaxed and flirty and laughs more freely than anywhere else when he gets to ride horses and do dirty work at a farm, i could imagine him just excitedly babbling about the day when they’re getting ready for bed and when he turns around after putting his pyjama shirt on Bucky would be on his knees, pulling him closer by the sides and almost teary eyed as he begs him to marry him, that he wants to make gale as happy as he is right then as often as he possibly can and by the time he starts brokenly pleading to get to grow old together with him gale needs to stop him by agreeing before he too starts to cry.

(gale doesn’t have any emotional attachement to his father’s last name but because of business he thinks it’s easier to keep going by it as he’s professionally established with that name. officially he changes it to cleven-egan but bucky knows that nothing gets him going like calling him ’mr egan’ after that; the only thing that has similar effect is calling him ’husband’ 🤍🖤)

thank you for the ask & inspiration!! 💘

#sorry other asks i’ll get to you too asap!!#buck x bucky #clegan #mota #gale cleven #john egan #writing #masters of the air #hollywood au #buck #bucky

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jqmalikhsgib · 8 months ago

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stars

seven

hiding a baby bump isn’t as easy as it seems, especially when you’re in the spotlight! yn has done everything to hide her belly away from the world. she wore baggy clothes, big sweaters, heavy jackets, literally anything.

it was pretty obvious she’s hiding something. most people are just speculating she got bigger, others are saying she got surgery, and very few have guessed she’s pregnant. aaron had told her time and time he’s okay with her telling the world.

yn just wasn’t ready to share this precious moment with the world. this is her first pregnancy and she deserves to keep somethings to herself! it’s only fair she gets a little bit of privacy away from the constant prying eyes that has been following her for years.

she loves what she does. loves making music, touring, traveling around the world, going to big events, she loves it all! but she deserves to have a private life just as much as the rest of the world.

unfortunately, not most people think she deserves that! it’s why she’s in complete tears when she sees someone had invaded her privacy when she was out grocery shopping this morning. if someone looked close enough they’d see a very small bump forming.

“do you think rihanna’s pregnant?”

“looks like a bump to me, kate! but it could just be my eyes deceiving me.”

“i can assure you, that is a baby bump! i know one when i see it. ive been pregnant too many times to count. rihanna definitely is pregnant, tim!”

“you heard it here first, folks! looks like our beloved rnb—pop star is expecting one of her own! the question is, who’s the baby’s father?”

“i thought she’d been dating an fbi agent, tim?”

“sources told me she’s exploring her options. apparently things aren’t too serious with mister fbi agent. rihanna just doesn’t see herself being with someone who doesn’t understand her lifestyle. i heard she’s been seeing rapper drake and a few other artists out there. this could be anyone from rapper drake’s baby to actor leonardo dicaprio to mystery man. the options are endless!”

“well, let’s just hope she knows who baby daddy is. we’ll be back with more hollywood scandals!”

yn immediately called her manager. she wanted to get to the bottom of who did this to her. after she got off the phone she called aaron next. she knew he was most likely busy with paperwork, knowing he would have called her immediately if he had a case somewhere.

when aaron answered his guard went up quickly when he heard his wife whimpering. “darling, what’s wrong? is jack okay? is the baby okay?! tell me?”

“aaron, they—they—”

“breath, darling. take a deep breath for me. that’s right, slowly. now, tell me what’s wrong?”

yn explained the situation and aaron is livid. he hated that her privacy was invaded like that. he hated it even more they’re painting his wife to be screwing everyone with a pulse. it’s sickening!

aaron let’s her know he’s coming home immediately! he doesn’t care about work at this moment. she’s more important to him than anything. yn waits patiently for her husband to arrive home.

in the meantime she cuddles up to her boy while watching cartoons. she’s trying to get her mind off of everything. when aaron arrives yn runs to his and hugs him tightly.

“it’s gonna be okay, sweetheart. we’ll sue! they have no business airing out your story before you’re ready!”

yn just wants her boys to. nothing else mattered in that moment.

“mamma, you okay?”

yn turns and gives her boy a small smile. “yeah, baby. your baby brother or sister just making mamma emotional. come on, i want cuddles from my boys!”

aaron smiles as the small family cuddle on the couch. yn will just deal with everything else tomorrow!

#aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x black!reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotch x reader #jqhotchner #jqhotchner masterlist #stars jqhotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x female reader

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tgmsunmontue · 7 months ago

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More than movie magic... 16/24

Hangster AU. Explicit (eventually). Jake is a Hollywood actor and Bradley is a stunt coordinator. Jake's about to make a few self-discoveries. So is Bradley.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN

Chapter 16 is pretty much the only explicit chapter, so you can skip it if you like.

SIXTEEN

They make their way to his trailer, although Bradley seems intent on stopping and kissing him about every twenty paces, and he tries to tell him they can do more once they get to his trailer, but Bradley doesn’t seem hurried in the slightest, seems more than happy to take his time and make out with Jake against every vertical surface they pass, be it building, tree or vehicle. Apparently the journey is just as important as the destination, but Jake would really like to get naked and make it to the destination, if that’s finally having an orgasm with Bradley in close proximity.

The door to his trailer has a pin code; fortunately he always uses the same one and he pushes the door open, squints as the lights come on automatically and quickly reaches to dim them. His eyes adjust and he stares at the gift basket sitting on the bed and he rubs at his face. Condoms, lube, bottles of water and fucking protein bars, along with an assortment of other snacks. He knew his mom had been too friendly and she knows the code and he should have known she’d get a good dig in, even as sweet and considerate as it is.

“Uh… I’m going to assume from your reaction that you didn’t put this here?” Bradley asks, and he’s not removed his hands from Jake’s body since they left the barn; is pressed along Jake’s back now, hand beneath his shirt and Jake pushes himself back against him.

“I’d put money on it being my mom.”

“I’ll be sure to thank her.”

Jake would roll his eyes, because Bradley seems just as bad as his mom, but Bradley is placing little butterfly kisses down his neck and it feels amazing, little paths of zinging arousal sparking through his body and he can’t be anything but turned on right now.

“Blinds, close the blinds… We need to close the blinds.”

That makes Bradley pull away, and he’s efficient, the blinds all quickly pulled down into place, basket moved off the bed and then he’s back in Jake’s space, kissing him again, hands back touching, one under his shirt and just resting on his bare skin above the waistband of his jeans, other hand cupping Jake’s face as he kisses him. It’s soft, sweet and gentle, like they’re both careful and a little worried about scaring the other off and it thrills him, makes him feel treasured but equally justified in his care. Despite it only being a few days he doesn’t feel like he’s rushing into this.

Bradley’s fingers work at the buttons of his shirt, pushing fabric off his shoulders, light kisses placed over his collar and then his chest. Jake works at Bradley’s own shirt buttons, fingers a little unsteady but he knows it isn’t nerves, more excitement and anticipation than anything else. They’ve seen other shirtless, well, he assumes Bradley has seen him shirtless, he’s pretty much shirtless for a lot of his parts. He’s remembering Bradley shirtless, seeing scar tissue and he runs his fingers over the puckered or shiny-smooth patches of skin, finally feeling like he’s allowed to touch.

It’s the slide of warm naked skin, exploring hands and lips licking, tasting, sucking. They’re just making out, exactly what they’ve done the last couple of nights, except this time they’re half-naked, a bed only meters away and clearly neither of them intend to pull back or call a halt to their evening.

“God I want you…” Jake groans out.

“Yeah? How bad?”

“Bradley, please…”

“Oh… you going to beg me baby?”

Jake hasn’t begged for anything. Ever. But he’s considering it right now. Also he’s never been called baby before, doesn’t know if he likes it yet. God he’s looking forward to finding out.

“Do you want me to?”

“No, just ask me real pretty… let your accent come out nice and clear…”

“You like my accent darlin’?” Jake asks, and the groan and press of firm body against him is all the answer he needs and he didn’t realize that having someone get turned on simply by his voice would do things for him. More things that is, because Bradley has his hand on Jake’s ass, pulling him close and fuck it feels good.

… … ..

“It’s been a while,” Jake says, voice quiet and breathy and he sounds very very Texan, and yeah, he knows now that sex is going to make Jake sound fantastic. Part of Bradley wants to ask exactly how long it’s been, but he also doesn’t care. If Jake says it has, then it’s by his own standards and Bradley will learn what those are eventually.

“Yeah, for me too…” Bradley replies, hopes Jake knows he’s trying to commit every moment to his memory. Wanting to slow down time so he can enjoy their first time together. No reason to hurry, no matter how much Jake seems to want to, fingers tugging at the button on his jeans and Bradley helps, doesn’t stop kissing across his chest, or remove his hand from his waist, where one of Jake’s hands is undoing his fly and then pushing his pants down and Bradley helps, because they clearly both want to be naked.

“Gorgeous…” Bradley murmurs under his breath, because Jake is of course a stunningly attractive man, his body is part of that package and he knows he works hard to look like this and he presses their bodies head-to-toe against one another, hums appreciatively under his breath and kisses him again before resuming his exploration of Jake’s body. His body is hard muscles and endless golden skin, marred only by what he guesses is a small appendectomy scar. His body hair is golden blond, barely visible where it’s too sparse to see in the dim light, but thicker happy trail and he teases his fingers in the hair.

Jake is biting his lip, watching him silently, although his own hands are exploring Bradley’s body just as attentively and he doesn’t miss that Jake seems to like some of his scars. They slowly make their way toward the bed, laying down carefully, eyes not leaving each other’s faces and Jake draws Bradley on top of him and his breath stutters in his chest. Jake is still watching him, blinks slowly and Bradley leans down, capturing Jake’s lips again, presses a leg between his. Jake’s hard against his thigh and Bradley moans against Jake’s lips, feels Jake’s breath hitch.

“I said it’s been a while,” Jake mutters, “not that you needed to go slow.”

“Maybe I enjoy slow… maybe you’re just impatient,” Bradley says, and he sits back up, stares down at the body spread beneath him and he wants to devour and worship in equal parts, wants Jake to know that’s how he’s feeling.

“Seen enough?” Jake asks, legs spreading in invitation and Bradley shakes his head, settles his mouth around Jake’s right nipple and sucking, enjoys the arch of his body against him.

“Nope. Not even close.”

“Bradley…”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t tease…”

“Not teasing baby. Fully intend to follow through.”

“Oh.”

He doesn’t know if it’s the pet name or the fact that they’ve been working toward this for the last two days, but Jake’s voice sounds beautiful, eyes blown wide with desire and Bradley runs a hand over Jake’s cock for the first time, watches him arch into the touch again and yeah, he knows what he wants to do. Jakes eyes have slipped closed, his entire body flexing like it’s seeking more friction and Bradley kisses him, tries to push everything he’s feeling into it while he reaches blindly for the lube he’d tossed from the basket toward the pillows when he’d moved it out of the way. He can’t find it, so he has to pull back and look properly, finds it snagged in the pillowcase cover and he can feel Jake watching him through almost closed eyes as he twists the pump lid to open it, feels his entire body thrum as he brings their cocks together with his right hand.

“You going to let me hear you?” Bradley asks, hand moving on them both, his hips flexing ever so slightly, wanting to chase the sensation. Jake’s own hips rock as well and he wonders if lying side-by-side would be better. This is good for now.

“Bradley… oh god. Come on. Please. Bradley…” Jake says, and his accent is thick and broken and he can’t help but feel pleased with himself.

“Yeah. You’re incredible. Gorgeous.”

Then Jake is leaning up, propping himself up on his arms, muscles bunching in his arms and chest to kiss him and it’s harder, more bruising and god, if they thought the beard burn was bad today, tomorrow is going to be terrible. He lets go, ignores the whine that Jake makes, shifts to lie on his side and pulls Jake to him, throws a leg over Jake’s and tucks them close, aligning their cocks before going back to working them in his hand.

They can kiss constantly, he can feel Jake’s hands all over him, the rocking of their bodies into the tight grip of his hand, sweat and slick easing the way. Bradley can feel his blood rushing in his ears, everything close to the surface, his body wound tight with the effort of delaying the inevitable, of making this last. The sounds Jake makes when he comes sound so close to a sob Bradley has to check that he isn’t actually crying. He isn’t, simply looks blissed out, mouth wide open, eyes fluttering and his bottom lip is swollen and trembling; Bradley kisses it, falling apart as he comes.

They stay entwined, heart rates coming down, breath mingling, trading soft kisses, hands clasped and it feels perfect. Eventually Bradley pulls away and reaches for his discarded shirt, uses it to clean them both up as best he can before pulling the blankets out from beneath them and snuggling up against Jake’s side.

SEVENTEEN

#Hangster #Sereshaw #more than movie magic #Top Gun Maverick

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