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maidragoste · 1 year ago

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The Parent Trap: Chapter Two

Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader x Aemond Targaryen

Summary: After the disastrous divorce between Aemond Targaryen and Y/n Velaryon the twins Baelon and Aemon were separated. Each was raised by one of their parents. Baelon was raised by his father while Aemon was raised by his mother. Years later they both meet at a summer camp and discover the existence of the other. The twins realize that there are many secrets in their family, eager to discover their past, they put together a plan to deceive their parents.

Masterlist

Thank you for your support, I was nervous that people wouldn't like it because the fic wasn't the same as the movie so I'm very happy to read all your comments. REBLOGS, comments and likes are always appreciated 🥰🥰💕💕💕

Btw, I made two playlists for this fic. One is from Aemond and the Reader and another is from Reader and Aegon. As I keep writing I'll probably add more songs or even delete some, who knows. If you have songs for me to add or are curious to know why, you are welcome to write to me in my inbox.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

Ten years earlier

Your leg kept moving up and down. Your eyes are constantly directed to the door, expecting that at any moment Aemond would return home. You tried to distract yourself by watching TV but you were too anxious. Your mind couldn't focus on the stupid movie because all you could think about was the positive sign on the pregnancy tests you had taken that afternoon with Rhaena and Jace by your side. You regretted telling them to leave. If they were with you they would be preventing you from locking yourself in your own mind. They would make you tell them your fears and they would try to calm you down. The three of them would be making plans. You might even be practicing with Jace how the hell tell Aemond they were going to be parents.

You and Aemond would be parents. You would be a mother. You always knew you would have children, you wanted the happily ever after with the wedding and children like they always showed in the movies, but now you are terrified. It wasn't supposed to be like this. You're barely twenty-three years old, you haven't even finished your second year of editorial editing. It was assumed that when you had children you would be at least over twenty-seven, your career—a career you were truly passionate about—would be finished, you would have a good job, and you would be married. You tried to console yourself by telling yourself that at least you're in a stable relationship. You and Aemond have been dating for three years. You two knew each other since you were little because your godmother is Aemond's older sister and then you ended up attending the same school so you spent a lot of time together. You still remember like it was yesterday how nervous you were when you first kissed Aemond during New Year's. You were afraid of ruining your friendship and that things would become awkward but he didn't pull away when you kissed him he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him. That night they hid from everyone and spent the rest of the celebration kissing. The next day they started dating. From there everything was wonderful. Like any couple, you and Aemond have your run-ins—like when you argued because you didn't like the way he behaved with Jace, your best friend, or when Aemond got mad at you because you made the two of you leave the restaurant you were having a date at. to pick up a drunk Aegon in a bar again—but there was definitely more joy than displeasure in your relationship with Aemond. You saw yourself having a future with him, you could see yourself perfectly next to him in your white dress. You can imagine Aemond putting a baby to sleep while he lulls it to sleep in High Valyrian. Are you sure you want a future with Aemond. But you're terrified of his reaction to this unexpected news. What would you do if Aemond didn't want to keep the baby? You would have to break up with him. Even though you were scared, you knew you wanted to keep the baby. That was clear to you.

You heard the door open and it didn't take long for your boyfriend to enter. You got up from the couch and went to hug him. Whenever he returned home you welcomed him with a hug and kisses. This time you held on to him longer than usual, wanting to remember the feeling of Aemond's arms around you in case this was the last time.

You were about to kiss him but he turned your face away from him making your heart skip a beat. Before you could move away he gently grabbed your chin and studied you carefully. Of course, he had realized something was happening to you when you were clinging so fiercely to him.

“What's wrong?” he asked. Aemond first wanted to know what was happening to you before you kissed him.

Once again you regretted kicking Rhaena and Jace out. At least you should have taken advantage of this time alone to practice in front of the mirror how to tell your boyfriend that you are pregnant. Or you could have called your parents to help you. Although knowing them they would tell you to keep the secret so that the three of them could plan a big announcement together. But you couldn't wait, you need to know now what Aemond was thinking. You needed to know whether or not he would be with you on this trip.

“Y/n?” Your boyfriend called you, feeling his concern growing with every second that you remained silent.

“I think I'm pregnant” You closed your eyes feeling frustrated with yourself and hurried to correct yourself “I mean, I'm pregnant” You tried not to panic as you felt him move away from you “I haven't had any blood tests done yet but I'm One hundred percent sure I'm pregnant. I took five pregnancy tests and they all came back positive.”Your nerves were evident because you were talking faster than normal and you couldn't stop gesturing with your hands.

Aemond felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water on him. This was not in his plans. Right now he was focused on opening his own publishing house, he needed to focus all of his attention on that, he didn't need a distraction and a baby would be that. Taking care of a child would take up too much time. But I couldn't tell you that. I'd be an idiot if I told you that. His mother didn't raise him to be an idiot.

“Marry me,” he said, knowing it was the right thing to do. Besides, ever since you two moved in together, he knew you were going to get married. He knows that he wants to spend the rest of his life waking up next to you, he wants your face to be the first and last thing he sees, he wants to come home and always be greeted with your kisses, he wants you to tell him about your day while the two of you have dinner, He wants to hear your theories about the TV shows you watch together. Aemond wants everything with you, even the most mundane things like going grocery shopping or walking the dogs. He loves you. The only reasons Aemond hadn't proposed to you already was because he wanted to wait until you finished college and he wanted his publishing company to be established. Planning a wedding was a big deal and you two didn't have time for that. But now it didn't matter anymore. “Marry me,” he said again with a smile as he saw how you opened your eyes and looked at him as if he were giving you the moon.

You couldn't help but laugh at yourself, feeling like an idiot for doubting Aemond. Maybe it wasn't the romantic proposal you had dreamed of but you didn't care. You were so relieved and so glad you didn't have to do this alone.

“Yes,” you responded with your heart racing and tears in your eyes. “Yes!” you repeated louder this time before throwing yourself into your fiancé's arms. You began to laugh as Aemond picked you up and spun you around. Your fears were forgotten. The only thing you felt at that moment was happiness.

Present

Aemon found it strange that when he arrived at camp Rickon was not waiting for him at the entrance like the previous years. He assumed this time that the trip had tired him too much and he went to take a nap in his cabin. So he decided to go there first instead of searching for him throughout the rest of the camp. If Rickon wasn't there at least he would leave his suitcases so he could walk comfortably.

When he entered the cabin he expected to find it empty or his best friend sleeping. He never imagined that an almost exact copy of him would be found walking back and forth all over the place. Aemon is not proud but his first reaction is to scream and throw his suitcase at him with all his might.

“Dude, what the hell?!” his copy shouted, barely managing to cum in time to avoid being hit.

“What happened?!” Rickon asked, also screaming, running out of the bathroom. “Aemon you finally arrived!” He ran to hug him.

Aemon barely moved his arms to hug Rickon but his eyes did not leave the other boy who was too similar to him. The copy of him didn't stop looking at him either, the two of them were studying each other. The only difference is that the stranger had much shorter hair than Aemon and did not have tanned skin like him. But Aemon knew that if he hadn't been sailing in the sun with his grandparents just a few days ago then he would look just like the copy of him.

"Who is he?" Aemon asked breaking the hug, no longer able to stand his curiosity. If he had encountered the copy of him years ago he would have thought that it was some kind of prank by Rickon or that maybe it was an evil clone but now he knew that it didn't make sense. The only logical explanation he could think of was that he had a missing twin but that didn't make sense because his mom would never hide something as big as this from him.

“Aemon do you need glasses? It's obvious that he's a copy of you," said the dark-haired boy, earning an angry look from the other two boys. “Don't do that, it's weird,” he complained.

“I am not Aemon's copy. In any case, he is my copy,” declared the short-haired boy.

“I met Aemon before so you are a copy of him.”

“Wait, why does he know my name?” Aemon interrupted before the other two continued fighting over who the copy was. He needed to know what was going on before he gave him a headache. Although since he saw the stranger he began to feel bad. It was disconcerting to see someone just like himself. He made him feel uncomfortable. Not even Joffrey looked that much like him, and she was his brother.

Aemon wanted to know who this boy was, why he looked so much like him, and why this was the first time he had met him. But at the same time, he was afraid. He could already sense that his life would be different after this camp. He decided to sit on the nearest bed to avoid running out and ask one of the caregivers for his cell phone to call his parents to come back to look for him. Maybe he should have let Mom walk him to the cabin like she wanted.

“Your friend thought I was you, he came up shouting your name when I was with my uncle Daeron. My uncle said that he knew you and that I should stay with Rickon until you showed up. Now I see why he insisted so much."

Aemon was sure he had heard Daeron's name before but he was sure he had never met him. Without realizing it he began to move his leg up and down trying to remember that he knew about Daeron but nothing came to mind.

“I am Baelon Targaryen,” the boy introduced himself, looking at him with concern and Aemon squeezed his leg to prevent himself from moving it further. “I think I'm your twin.”

“No,” the long-haired boy denied instantly.

“Dude, we're literally copies of each other!” Baelon said, frustration evident in his voice, pointing at Aemon and then at himself.

Rickon gave Baelon a look telling him to shut up. In the few hours that he had known him, Baelon had never seen Rickon so serious, so he crossed his arms indignantly and watched silently and attentively as Stark sat next to his twin.

“I know it seems crazy, Aemon, but I really think Baelon is right,” said the dark-haired boy, looking at his friend with concern. Rickon wouldn't know how to react either if he suddenly found out that he had a twin. “The two are copies of each other. Besides, he grew up without knowing his mom and you grew up without knowing your dad. I don't think it's a coincidence. Just like I don't think it's a coincidence that Baelon's uncle knew you."

Aemon looked at his best friend before turning his attention to his possible new brother. “When were you born?”

"June 20th. I guess just like you," said Baelon, and was satisfied when he saw that his twin nodded. "I have a photo of Mom!" He suddenly remembered the photo that he had stolen from Dad a long time ago and that he had hidden in his luggage. “You can see her and confirm that she is our mom,” he said excitedly, thinking that this way Aemon could no longer deny his relationship. He couldn't help but be excited at the thought that he was no longer alone, he had a brother. He had always seen how close his uncle Daeron was to his dad and his other uncles and he remembered wanting to have the same.

Baelon ran to grab his suitcase and began to take out all of his clothes, not caring about the mess, until he found the latest Boku no Hero manga that he was reading and triumphantly pulled out one of the pages the photo of her mother with him in her arms while she kissed his cheek, her eyes were only on him, not caring to look at the camera.

“Look,” he said, handing the photo proudly to Aemon. The photo wasn't complete, it was obvious that someone had cut it in half but Baelon didn't care. That photo was one of his most prized possessions. He looked at her every day before going to sleep because he reminded him that his mom loves him.

“Oh, shit,” Aemon muttered before handing the photo back to him.

“It's her, right?” Baelon asked, watching with anticipation as it was now Aemon who was searching for something in his suitcase. Aemon, unlike him, was not throwing his clothes everywhere. He felt his heart race when he saw how his twin took out a notebook and took something out of it.

“Is this your dad?” Aemon asked, giving him a photo. Baelon nodded several times, unable to say anything out of emotion. His dad wasn't looking at the camera but he wasn't looking at the baby he was holding either. He just looked to the side with a smile.

Baelon took both photos and placed them side by side on the bed. The photo was now complete. Dad was looking at Mom. If Baelon hadn't been so engrossed in looking at the photo then he would have noticed Aemon and Rickon exchanging glances.

“I told you we're twins!” Baelon said with a big smile once he snapped out of the shock of nudging Aemon.

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eyesthatroll · 2 years ago

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how many drinks? | luke hughes

pairing; lh43 x fem!reader

warnings(s); none really, fluff? lowercase intended, not edited. also written in like 15 minutes so kinda bad (might rewrite/re-edit it at a later date idk)

word count; 0.6k (blurb!)

summary; luke approaches reader at wedding reception

"do you want to dance?" you lift your gaze from the game of candy crush that you were currently enthralled in.

a tall brunette is staring back at you. he looks down at you expectantly, rolling on the heels of his feet. "do i know you?"

the boys cheeks tinge pink, and he runs a hand through his slightly curly hair before speaking again. "n-no, i just, i don't know. you look bored."

his awkwardness brings a smile to your face. you ponder his offer for a moment, the song 'skin' by dijon playing through the speakers.

the dance floor had a few couples on it, the other guests scattered around the room, eating cake or loitering near the bar.

you flip your phone screen side down, and chug the rest of your drink. "sure pretty boy, let's dance."

you lift your hand up, and he take it in his, easily pulling you out of your chair. he leads you to a small corner of the dance floor.

your arms rest on his shoulders, hands crossed behind his neck. his hands finding home on the small of your back.

"i never got your name." you state, the two of you swaying softly.

"luke." he answers sheepishly, seemingly embarrassed that he hadn't already told you his name.

"so, which side are you here for, luke?" you asked, your fingers beginning to absentmindedly play with the hair that coiled at the nape of his neck.

"oh, um, the groom. he's on my team."

you brows raised in confusion. "i didn't know you were a player for the devils, not sure i've seen you on the ice. though, i've only watched maybe a few games so i could be completely wrong"

"i haven't-well not yet, at least. i just signed my contract a few weeks ago." he says.

"that's exciting," you begin. "leaving college, i presume?" you're not sure if your questions are too personal, but luke makes no moves to ward them off.

luke gives you a bittersweet, close lipped smile. "yeah."

"that's got to be hard, leaving your friends?"

he tilts his head, thinking a moment. "i mean, yeah, but i'll still see them. plus, i have jacky, and the rest of team-they've been pretty nice and welcoming."

you nod in understanding. "so jacky, she your girlfriend?"

" oh god no!" luke sputters, his cheeks painted crimson again. "that's my brother-jack. he plays for the devils, too."

your eyes widen, and you kick yourself internally for your assumption. why would he of asked you to dance if he was in a relationship?

" 'm sorry, i shouldn't have assumed." you apologize, shaking your head slightly to yourself.

"no, it's all good! i'm single, by the way."

"professional hockey player gets no bitches?" you tease, feeling more comfortable with him by the moment.

he lets out a breathy laugh, his hands tightening around your waist. "i think i do okay with..the ladies." he trails off.

you mouth an 'okay', and dramatically nod your head.

"just looking for the right girl, i guess." he finishes.

"that's understandable." you agree.

"and you?"

"looking for the right girl?"

you laugh at your own joke.

"no-no, i mean, beautiful girl like yourself must have..suitors."

luke's face contorts into one reminiscent of pain.

you followed suit, cringing at his choice of words. "suitors?"

you laugh at him shamelessly, a big bellied laugh that draws attention to the two of you on the floor, not that either of you noticed, too engrossed in your own world.

luke pulls you closer to him, burying his head in your shoulder. "stop laughing."

—

mari speaks! again, like mentioned in the preface, wrote this super quickly so not edited/kinda bad but i might re-do it or make a part 2 idk. also, luke’s playing in his first playoff game tmro so make sure to wish babyboy some luck <3

#luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes imagines #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes fic #nj devils #new jersey devils #umich boys #umich hockey #hockey #nhl

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golbrocklovely · 2 years ago

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let's fall in love for the night // colby brock

A/N: wow, this fic felt like it took a decade to write. and fun fact, after finally finishing it (editing wise), come to find out it's one of my longest fics. not the longest, but one of them. so now it makes sense. so, the inspo for this fic is the song, and i hear it all the time at work. i love it a lot, and thought it was a good fic idea. hopefully that translate well. it's not a direct interpretation of the song, it's more just a couple of the lyrics at the beginning and end and the rest is vaguely related to the song. sorry this one doesn't have an outright happy ending, but i promise the next fic will be. please let me know what you think, and i'll see yall later :)

inspired by the song "Let's Fall in Love for the Night" by Finneas

prompt: it was simple idea: act like the two of you were dating for one night. what possibly could go wrong in just a couple hours? || colby brock x fem!reader

trigger warnings: light smut (but no sex), pretend dating, angst, possible happy ending (but still heartbreaking), club scenes/partying, drinking, romantic moments, super cheesy at times, fluff, cursing??

word count: 5590

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Let's fall in love for the night / And forget in the morning

It started out as a silly joke - "let's pretend to date for a night". You were the one that brought it up, but immediately felt embarrassed by it. Of course, you were joking. You would never want to actually date your best friend, Colby. The only reason you even suggested it was because after a long night of talking about life, you both confessed how lonely you guys felt. How you both deeply wanted someone to be in love with. How much you yearned to have someone that was yours. But there was a lot of things in your way. For Colby, he didn't trust many. And it was hard for him to open up to those he wanted to be close with; including you, at first. And for you.... it was a bit of a laundry list of reasons. The main one? You just weren't sure there was "the one" for you. And for that reason alone, you didn't feel like breaking your heart over and over again just to search for someone that wasn't even real.

So, your suggestion was quite simple: pretend to date each other for one night, to get the experience of being in love. Maybe pretending even for a couple hours might alleviate some of the desire you felt. Maybe it would cool the fires in you that only came out when drunk and vulnerable.

Colby at first was against it, only because he couldn't imagine actually dating you. You were one of the few girls in his life he never had a thing for, but that wasn't because he didn't find you attractive. You definitely were, which is why he found it hard to believe your love life was as dry as his. But him... dating you? It felt strange. But the more he thought about - not spending a night alone again, going out on a date, actually planning one for the first time in months, holding someone's hand - it sounded nice. Relaxing, even. And having it be you and not someone he had to keep his guard up around made it all the more enticing.

He eventually said yes weeks later, which surprised you immensely. Especially given the distain look he had when you mentioned it, you thought there was no way in hell he would say yes.

"How do we do it?" He asked, taking a sip from his drink.

“Well... we would only date for the night. Until midnight. Tomorrow.” You stated.

He agreed. “That sounds good. Where would you like to go?”

“Where would you take a girl you've been with for a while?” You queried.

He snorted, “It's been a long time since I've had to worry about that.”

“You’ve got until tomorrow at seven to figure that out. Maybe a bit before. I would like some time to get ready for our date.” You grinned, raising your eyebrows.

“Okay then. I'll see you tomorrow...” Colby paused, his eyes locking with yours. “Girlfriend.”

You rolled your eyes jokingly, “And I'll see you tomorrow, boyfriend.”

The rest of the party you guys stayed away from each other. And all night all you could think of was what will tomorrow bring. Your stomach flipped with anticipation. But you tried to settle it down by thinking repeatedly it's just a "date" with Colby. There's no reason to be hyped for it.

You were just playing pretend.

~~~~~

It was after five in the evening when Colby finally texted you about the date - you guys were going out to eat. But he wouldn't tell you where. All he mentioned was that you guys had to dress semi-formal.

You started getting ready, not really sure what was completely in store for you. You showered, did your hair, and makeup in record time. Now... for the outfit. You weren't sure how "formal" Colby was actually going to be. That man very rarely ever dressed formal. But you figured the red cocktail dress you bought a couple weeks back would work well with whatever you two were doing tonight.

The benefit of living with Sam and Colby in this scenario was that if Colby wasn't dressed as formal as you, you could get change, which did calm your nerves a bit.

Slowly walking down the stairs, you could hear someone in the kitchen. As you reached the bottom, you turned and saw Colby waiting for you, staring down at his phone.

You inquired, “Calling an uber?”

“Yeah it should be here soon.” He mentioned nonchalantly.

Colby finally picked his head up, gazing at you. His eyes widened for a split second. He collected himself, calmly saying, "You look beautiful."

You giggled, trying not to notice the way he looked you up and down. "Thank you. I'm surprised to see you in actual dresswear."

You glanced at his outfit: black dress shoes, black slacks, and a dark maroon button up. He had his leather jacket on, giving him that little edge that you were used to seeing.

A shy smile came to his face. “Yeah, I don't really get a chance to get dressed up so I figured tonight would be a good time to do it.”

“You look really nice.” You admitted.

He nodded quickly. "Thanks."

There was a moment of silence between the two of you. You weren't sure what it was from - nervousness, lack of conversation, or just waiting for the uber. Either way, you hated it.

“The uber's gonna be here in a moment. Want to head outside?” He asked.

“Sure. Sounds good.” You replied.

You grabbed your jacket on the way out, slipping it on quickly. As Colby locked the door, the slight chill in the air made you shiver. Colby began to walk down the path to the street, his hand reaching out for yours. At first you were surprised to see him do that, but then you slipped your hand into his. His hand was warm and soft, somehow making your body feel even colder. The uber pulled up, and you two got in. He let go of your hand for a moment, only to grab it again.

The ride was quiet the whole way to the restaurant. You couldn't tell if it was your nervousness or his, but either way you could cut the tension with a knife. As you finally arrived, you felt your heart flutter.

Like many restaurants in Vegas, it was inside a hotel. And this was one of the nicer ones, from the way there was a doorman that propped the door open for you as you entered. Colby knew where he was going, so you followed right along with him; his hand still embracing yours. You cupped his arm with your other hand, squeezing him lightly. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but you doing that made his heart race.

Finally reaching the restaurant, you could see by the name that it was an Italian place - and an expensive one at that. Everything on the outside seemed bougie, and that continued inside the restaurant.

“How did you get us into a place like this?” You questioned under your breath.

He smirked down at you, “I have friends in high places, I guess.”

“Good evening.” The hostess spoke.

“Hello, table for two under ‘Brock’.” Colby stated.

The hostess looked at her screen and nodded her head. “Okay, follow me.”

You glanced around as you followed behind Colby, feeling out of your element. You weren’t used to places like this. No man had ever taken you out to somewhere this nice. The last time you went somewhere like this was for a dinner Sam and Colby had thrown after a successful video series.

“I hope this table is to your liking. Your waiter will be with you shortly.” The hostess smiled, walking away.

Colby pulled your chair out as you slipped your jacket off, resting it on the back. He slid into his seat, you both finally making eye contact for the first time since leaving home.

You picked up your menu, Colby following suit. You both mumbled what you planned to have to eat that night, you settling on the three cheese ravioli, and Colby was getting some pasta dish neither one of you could pronounce. The waiter came to your table a moment later. You ordered the food and drinks, and then stared at each other again.

Why does everything feel so awkward? You and Colby had been friends for years, could talk about anything and everything. Why was now so strange?

Sure, you were pretending to be dating but... it shouldn't be that weird.

After the waiter came back with the drinks, you paused until he left to finally speak. You blurted out, "Is this not kinda awkward, or am I just going crazy?"

Colby sighed, happy that you picked up on the uneasiness between the two of you. "Yeah, this is a bit strange. Don't you think?"

You shrugged. “A little. Maybe it's because we aren't playing pretend enough.”

He raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“Well, if we were an actual couple, there wouldn't be all this tension. Assuming we've been together for a while.” You remarked.

“How long do you think we've been dating?” Colby added, “Hypothetically.”

You bit your lip and then thought for a moment. "Hypothetically, I could see us maybe having dated for... two years? Maybe going on three?"

He sat back in his chair, “Hmm, interesting. What would have been the starting point of our relationship?”

“I'm not sure... maybe us hooking up at a party?” You suggested, sipping your drink.

Colby grimaced, “No, I don't think so.”

“Well, what do you have in mind?” You responded.

"Hypothetically," Colby stared at the flicker candle at your table, then looked up at you. "I think we would have just happened to start dating. Maybe, we would have been on double date with Sam and Kat or something."

“You mean, basically any time we all hang out?” You laughed.

He shook his head. “Yeah, no. An official, actual date? We've never done that as a group.”

“I don't know, I feel like if that scenario did happen, we would have had to have been drunk at some point during the night.” You commented.

“Why do you say that?” He squinted.

You whisper-yelled dramatically. “We're both nervous as hell right now, and this isn't even a real date!”

He chuckled. “True, I guess. But the real question is what would make us want to start dating?”

“Ohhh, that's a good one.” You both paused for a second. You spoke first, “Hypothetically?”

He nodded his head.

“I think.... Oh! Two years ago, do you remember when we all went to that haunted hotel, but we weren't filming?” You described.

He blinked, “You're gonna have to be more specific. It's kinda my job to go to haunted places.”

“Shut up," you deadpanned. "Remember, we had a layover when flying to New York for some event, and we had to stay because the flight was cancelled due to the weather. And the closest and only open hotel was the –”

“Annamarie Inn, or something like that?” Colby chimed in.

“Yes!” You exclaimed.

“Oh my God, I remember that place. That was....” he shivered. “Fucking creepy.”

“It was so small, borderline a motel. And the front desk person was mean.” You remembered.

“Well, if no one had stayed at my place for months on end, I too would be annoyed by some out of town LA-ers.” He snickered.

“It didn't help you were wearing a Fendi hoodie.” You jeered sarcastically.

He gaped. “It was cozy!”

“You're a brand whore who sticks out like a sore thumb in the middle of Nowhere, America!” You sassed.

He glared, “If we were actually dating, I would break up with you right now.”

"Aww, don't like being roasted?" You mocked, pouting.

“Not when I'm paying, no.” He replied dryly.

You sat back in your chair crossing your arms, scowling jokingly. You took a swig of your drink, and then continued. "But anyway, that night would have been the beginning of us, in theory, I think."

“Why? What even happened?” Colby cocked his head.

“We had to share one bed, remember? Kat was insistent on sleeping with Sam because the building creeped her out, and so we shared a room instead. But when we got to the room, it was a single bed.” You recalled.

He hummed, agreeing. “Yeah, you're right. But why would that have been the night we started dating?”

“Well, I remember us sharing the room and I remember it was really cold and we just cuddled with each other, and I think being that close could have caused something to happen.” You stated.

“Maybe...” He mumbled.

"I just know that that night was really stressful but us being together in that room was..." Your mind drifted off to the memory of that night. You could remember studying Colby's face in the dark, how relaxed he looked after the stressful day you all had. You couldn't understand how he looked even more handsome up close. You remembered having to hold yourself back from touching his face, his lips.... "Nice. It-it was really nice."

You took another sip of your drink, hoping that Colby didn't notice your cheeks and how red they had become.

He did notice, but he didn't say anything. And part of him remembered that night. That was the night he woke up with your head lying on his chest and it was all he could think about the rest of the trip.

“Did you have a different idea of when we would have hypothetically started dating?” You asked.

Colby cleared his throat. “Sort of. But I kinda like your idea better.”

The idea he had in his head was also during an investigation, but it was when the cameras were off. You both had crazy things happen during the night; during the Estes Method it said your name, and Colby at one point thought he saw a figure at the end of a hallway. Everyone was taking a break outside, and you asked for a hug. Of course, he gave you one, and you offhandedly told him that you felt safe in his arms.

It took a lot to make Colby speechless, but you did it so easily in that moment.

The waiter interrupted Colby's memory, bringing out the food. You both chowed down, the pasta tasted extra delicious. You continued to talk about your made-up relationship, and also just talked about life in general. You ended up skipping dessert, and asked Colby if there was anything else planned for tonight.

He informed you, slipping his jacket on. “There's a new bar that opened up in the next hotel over that I was thinking we could check out.”

You smiled. “That sounds good.”

He slid his phone out, turning back to you as he walked. “Do you want to walk or catch another uber?”

You followed him, placing your jacket on again. “We can walk, I don't mind.”

Colby grabbed your hand as you left the restaurant. You felt giddy this time around, all the tension from before now gone after talking with each other for a couple hours. You couldn't help but smile as you walked outside onto the Vegas strip. The sky had grown dark but was somehow darker than usual. A distant boom bounced off the buildings on the strip. Thunder.

He glanced up at the sky, turning his head to you. “I think it's about to rain. Let's walk a little faster.”

You nodded your head, picking up the pace. Colby stayed near you, even though he could speed walk faster than you could run. He wasn't going to leave you behind. Finally crossing the street, you made it to the other hotel. You still had to walk to the doors though. But suddenly, the skies opened up and rain poured down onto you and everyone around. Some rushed into the hotel, others pulled out umbrellas. Colby pulled you two under an awning, his arm wrapping around you.

“Do you want to wait here until it lets up a bit?” He queried, getting close to you.

“Sure.” You nodded.

You stared out at the rain, watching it splatter as it hit the ground. It very rarely rained in Vegas, so to see it come down like this was both strange and fascinating. And somehow, for a moment, there weren’t that many people around. Most had ran inside, leaving the two of you out on your own. Having a solitude moment in Vegas was even more rare than the rain. A thought popped into your head: go dance in the rain. You didn't know why, but you had to do it. You slipped out from under Colby's arm and walked out into the street, letting the rain hit your skin and clothes.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” He called out to you.

You let the rain slowly soak you, turning towards Colby. "Live a little! Join me."

Colby shook his head slightly, squinting at you in amusement. A moment passed. He sighed and stepped out into the rain.

You started jumping up and down, laughing at him as he opened his arms wide. His maroon shirt grew darker as the rain drenched him. He turned back to you, grabbing your hands and spinning you around, almost dancing. You cackled as he pulled you close and picked you up for a split second. He spun around with you in his arms, and only stopped once you wailed at him to do so. Your eyes landed on each other’s and time froze. You felt hyper aware of how Colby's hands were on your waist, and how yours were wrapped around his neck. Your bodies were close to one another, his heat radiating onto you. You couldn't contain yourself, even if you wanted to. The closeness made it all the more easy to lean in, and Colby followed suit.

This wasn't your first kiss with Colby; that one happened a long time ago during a truth or dare drinking game. But this one blew that old one out of the water. Back then, you felt embarrassed to kiss him, kind of wishing you had just taken the five shots that was given as an option instead. But now, all you could think of was that you hoped this kiss never ended. Once his tongue slid across your bottom lip, you knew whatever relationship you had with him was going to be permanently changed.

He felt the same as you. There was a sudden craving that raced through his body the moment your lips touched his. How was it possible that all this time he had missed out on this? On you? There's no way the first kiss was like this. If it had been, he would have asked you to be his that night. Maybe he had been so wrapped up in his own bullshit, he couldn't have imagined asking you out. It was crazy to think that pretending to date for a night got him here.

And then it hit him: this wasn't real. You guys were on a fake date, pretending to be a couple. The light pain in his chest made him pull away, but part of him wished he never did.

“We... we should stop.” He voiced, breathlessly.

You stammered, trying to calm yourself. “R-right. And, uh, get out of the rain.”

"Yeah." He stepped back farther away from you, needing some space so that he could think again. "C'mon, let's get inside."

You both raced in, not wanting to get anymore wet than you already were. The cool hotel air hit you and made you shiver, Colby doing the same.

"So... where's the club at in here?" You asked awkwardly.

A brief smirk passed his face, his hand finding yours again as you walked. “It's a speakeasy, so it's hidden behind the back of some store. It's similar to the other one we go to all the time. Made by the same people.”

You exhaled, “That's fun.”

“Yeah, me and Sam were gonna check it out last week but never got around to it.” He turned to you, studying your face. “But if you don't want to, we can just –”

"No, I don't mind." You stopped Colby lightly, pointing at the signs for the bathroom. "Maybe before we go in, I should use the restroom and make sure I don't look like a complete mess."

He glanced down at himself, “Same here.”

You went inside and looked at yourself in the mirror. Not too bad for being drenched, weirdly enough. Your makeup had survived the rain, thank God for waterproof, and all that really looked a bit messy was your hair.

Realistically, while you were going in here to make sure you didn't look bad, you were really in here because of how nervous you were. It had finally really hit you that you two just made out in the rain. Something you had wanted to do with someone since you were a kid and saw 'A Cinderella Story'. And now you did it... on a fake date, no less.

Maybe he was the one for.... no. You couldn't allow yourself to think like that.

You dried your hair as best you could: drying the ends under the hand-dryer and running your fingers through the rest. You pinned it up with a clip in your bag, checked your makeup again, and then stepped back out into the busy walkway of the hotel. Colby was leaning against the wall waiting for you, looking ridiculously suave for no reason. He perked up when he saw you, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

His shirt looked mostly dried, and his leather jacket had been wiped down - something he had done in the bathroom while you were gone. He hoped you didn't notice; he didn't want to seem like he was doing too much. He prayed he was pulling off the effortlessness he could usually get away with.

You noted it, but didn't say anything.

Colby grasped your hand again, pulling you along silently to the store in question that housed the speakeasy. It looked like a regular Vegas gift shop. He stopped at the back of the store, in front of a "Employees Only" door with an eye-slot on it. It opened up, and a man asked "Password."

“’I'm looking for Piper.’” He quoted.

The man nodded, closed the slot, and opened the door. Inside was a dark, booming club. You were shocked to see it. Knowing how the other one looked, this was somehow more impressive. It was packed and the music was loud and fun. Colby smiled at you and pointed at a free table across the way.

“Wow, this place is crazy!” You yelled over the music.

He glanced around, “I know. I'm surprised how many people are here tonight.”

“What time is it?” You questioned.

Colby looked down at his watch. “It's... a little after ten.”

Your heart skipped a beat, hearing the time. “Oh.”

“What is it?” He furrowed his brow.

“We only have a couple more hours until midnight.” You explained.

“And then...” His voice grew quiet, “our fake date is over.”

The two of you stayed silent for a moment, Colby breaking it by looking up at you. "Well, we better make the most of it."

You ordered drinks, downing them within minutes. The upbeat music made you want to dance, so you grabbed Colby's hand and pulled him onto the dance floor. Colby didn't really like dancing. He was more of a people watcher when he was at the club. But you were not taking no for an answer.

You swayed your hips to the music as you faced Colby. He watched you, stepping back and forth to the beat. His hand still held onto yours, eventually spinning you and gliding you into him. He slid his hands down your body, cupping your waist sweetly. His body pressed against yours, his breath fanning across your neck. Your back arched at his closeness, causing goosebumps to form across your skin. How was it possible that he was doing all of this to you? You had danced with Colby on countless occasions, spent multiple times in your life at the club with him. But tonight, after everything... things really felt different.

Colby's mind was reeling just as much as yours, if not more so. He started out the night thinking this was going to be a fun night, but nothing too crazy. And now... he had to do everything in his power not to jump your bones in the middle of this club. But your ass pressed against his crotch was making that very hard to do.

His grip on your waist tightened as you grinded back into him harder, teasing him. You felt his chest vibrate as he chuckled. He buried his face into your neck before whispering "Fuck, Y/N, what are you trying to do to me?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." You smirked.

Colby suddenly spun you around, pulling you close. He leaned in, keeping his eyes on you. Somehow, even in the dark, his eyes almost glowed with lust. He kept his mouth close to yours, lips brushing against each other. But he never fully leaned in.

“Kiss me.” He dared.

You exhaled, closing the space between the two of you. The kiss became intense in no time. One of his hands landed in your hair, pulling lightly on your locks causing you to open your mouth, gasping. He took the opportunity to slide his tongue inside. You could taste the fruity cocktail he had finished not long ago. Your hands drifted up to his chest, tugging at his button up and jacket. His other hand snaked down your body, cupping your ass softly.

Your breath hitched, surprised by his forwardness. "Too many people are looking at us. Let's go home."

He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you off the dance floor. “Sounds good to me.”

The intensity had stayed between the two of you the whole time you were in the uber on the way home. You were nice enough not to make out in someone's car, but you couldn't help but squeeze Colby's hand every so often, knowing you guys were getting closer to home. He would do the same back, his eyes snaking up your body.

You weren't sure what was going to happen between the two of you, but you were excited nonetheless.

You both rushed inside after getting dropped off, thanking the driver quickly. Colby had you against the front door the moment it closed, kissing and sucking on your neck. You couldn't help the little noises that fell from your lips, him finding all of your most sensitive spots. All you needed was for him to take you to any of the bedrooms in the house, and you would be set.

Colby's hand drifted up to your shoulder pushing your jacket off, but suddenly his hand froze in place; his eyes staring at his wrist.

“What? What's wrong?” You murmured, breathlessly.

He hesitated. “It's.... five minutes to midnight.”

Your heart sank. And you would never know it, but so did his.

You inhaled. “Oh. So our date is-”

“Done.” Colby grunted.

He backed himself away from you, his hands falling to his sides. You leaned back against the door, running you hands through your hair. You looked back up at him, his eyes still on the floor.

“Why don't we just.... ignore it?” You felt bold saying it, but the way Colby looked at you made you realize you said something wrong.

He shook his head, “N-no. No, we can't.”

“But why? I mean, we had so much fun tonight.” You stepped towards him, trying to close the space again.

He turned and walked away, going to the kitchen. “I know we did, but it was... pretend.”

You couldn’t help but scoff at his words. “Oh, so none of that was real for you? You were just what, faking it? Pretending to want to kiss me?”

“Well no. Of course I wanted to kiss you but the whole point of tonight was just to... live out a fantasy we both wanted.” His voice lowered, hoping you wouldn’t hear him say, “Needed.”

“Colby, you can't be serious. The night started out that way, sure. But after we kissed in the rain, there's no way that that was just part of the plan,” you argued. “Or making out in the club. Or what we were literally going to do until you saw the time.”

“We both needed that, yes. But that isn't reality.” He clenched his jaw, “You and I are meant to be friends.”

You challenged, leaning across the island. “But we could try for more.”

“No, we can't.” Colby didn’t like how his voice trembled.

“We worked so well together tonight, why not give it a try?” You pleaded.

"I'm not willing to lose you as a friend. I care about you, and this was nice. But.... no.” He stuttered, trying to catch his breath. “I... I won't lose you as a friend just because I'm lonely.”

You almost winced, your mind going to the worse thought. “So, none of that meant anything to you. That was all just pent up hormones?”

He glared, his stare turning your body cold. “That's not what I said. Don't put words in my mouth. But what about you, huh?”

“What about me?” You sneered.

“How did tonight make you feel?” Colby asked plainly.

You huffed, “Clearly enough of a way to make me ask you to continue this!”

“What exactly are you feeling, then? Tell me.” He walked around the island, his eyes on yours.

“Well, tonight I felt...” You trailed off.

A certain word came to mind, but you shook it off. There's no way you were going to say that. There's no way you felt that way about Colby, especially not after one date.

He got in front of you, his arms on either side of the counter as he spoke. His voice was gentle, but intense. “Tell me. Say anything. Tell me what you're feeling.”

You gulped, “Right now, you're making me nervous.”

“Why?” He whispered.

You closed your eyes, his stare making it hard to form words. “Because it's hard to think when you're this close to me.”

“But other than that?” He questioned desperately.

You stayed silent, trying to figure out the feeling. A million words came to mind, but none felt quite right to say. They were all too vulnerable, too personal. And him staring down at you intently made it even harder to speak.

He stepped back, his face dropping. “That's the problem, Y/N. Neither one of us knows how to express how we feel. Which is why we went out in the first place. We don't trust ourselves enough to find someone and to trust them in return.”

“Why are you trying to make this more difficult than it has to be? Why can't we just... try? And if it doesn't work out, so what? We can still be friends.” You bargained, trying to make him understand.

He moved towards you again, his voice almost frantic. “You want me to be honest? To tell you how I'm actually feeling?”

“Yes.” You whispered.

“I'm terrified... of not having you in my life. That if we did try this, I would just make you miserable, or vice versa. I can’t give you everything you need. And I can't imagine you not in my life so I would rather take the safe route than try this.” He confessed, not able to even look into your eyes longer than a second.

“When have you ever taken the safe route on anything?” You insisted.

He bit his lip hard, shaking his head. “I'm not willing to bet on this. You are too important to lose.”

You whimpered, “Colby...”

“Maybe one day, we could do this. Maybe one day, this could be us. I'll take that chance later,” he laughed bitterly. “But having this happen tonight? No.”

“Can you promise me that? That we'll try.... later?” You grabbed his hands, holding them once more.

He nodded, doing his best to hold it together. “I'll give it my best shot. When we're both emotionally ready for this, when I'm ready for this.”

There was no way to persuade him, and you didn't want to lose him as a friend with. So... you just accepted what he said.

“Well, you know who to call.” You smiled, brokenly.

He slid your hands out of his, leaving the kitchen slowly. He turned back, not even knowing he was breaking your heart more. "This was nice, Y/N. Thank you for... helping me feel less lonely for an evening."

“You too.” You croaked.

As he walked to his room, he never felt more alone. Each step made him regret every single word he said as he got closer to his bedroom door. All he wanted was to run back to you and hold you as close as he could.

You followed him with your eyes, trying to hold back tears. You watched him go into his room, shuddering out a breath. How long were you holding it, you didn't know.

It took a lot to make you speechless, but he did it so easily in that moment.

I know better / Than to ever call you 'mine'

#colby brock #colby brock x reader #colby brock one shot #colby brock oneshot #colby brock angst #colby brock fluff #colby brock smut #colby brock story #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fic #colby brock fanfiction

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1d-oneliner-fest · 2 years ago

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1D One Liner Fic Fest

You get one line. The rest is up to you.

Coming May 1st!

Find all the info below!

What is this fest about?

Everyone who wants to write for the fest picks a line from the prompt list and builds a fic around it!

Prompt Submission Rules

Lines can be about almost anything. They can be funny, serious, sad, deep, sexy, or whatever you want! However, the mod reserves the right to refuse lines that may be too triggering for people.

Lines can be part of the narrative, such as, Louis and Harry couldn’t stop staring at each other across the room, or it could be dialogue, such as, “Why on earth would you say something like that?”

NSFW lines are allowed. There will be a separate section in the prompt list for these lines, so people who do not want to read them will not have to look at them.

You can include specific character names in the prompts if you want to, but writers have permission to change them if they really want to use that line with different characters. Feel free to write [Person A], [Person B], [Name], etc.

Only original lines are allowed; in other words, something you came up with yourself. This means…

- No song lyrics

- No quotes from famous people

- No quotes from TV shows, movies, books, TikToks, etc

- No quotes from other fics

Obviously phrases that are somewhat generic may not be original. Something like, “I miss you so much it hurts,” has probably been written somewhere before, but it’s not specific enough to be “from” anything, so it’s okay to use. That being said, generic lines are okay, but more specific might be more fun!

Lines can be up to two sentences, but they must occur one right after the other.

Fic Rules

The only real rule is that you have to include your given line somewhere in your fic.

Can I edit the line I chose? Try not to if you can help it. Adding, removing, or changing a word is fine, but the point is to use the line as it is! If you want to message the mod with your proposed change, you can!

The line I picked has two sentences; can I split them up? Again try not to. A short sentence in between is okay if you really need to, but the prompt submitter put them together for a reason!

What if the line I picked is in past tense, but I write in present tense? By all means, change the line to fit the tense you prefer to write in!

The line I want mentions Harry, but I want to write about Zouis. Can I change the name? It would be nice to keep the line with the original name, but you can change them if you really want to.

Can I sign up with my own prompt? No. The point is to use a line someone else came up with; the rest of the lines in the fic are yours!

Can I sign up to write multiple fics? Go for it! But please wait until your first prompt has been confirmed.

Fics can include any pairing or even no pairing as long as it features at least one of the five One Direction boys.

Fics will not be moderated, so please tag appropriately! There is no minimum or maximum word count, so have fun!

Fics must be completed upon submission.

Schedule

May 1st - Prompt submissions open

May 14th - Prompt submissions close

May 15th - Author signups open (will remain open until due date)

November 4th - Fics due

November 6th - Fic posting begins

Posting schedule to come at a later date!

Other Info

You must be 18 or older at the time of signup to join this fest.

Feel free to ask for an extension or to change your prompt if needed!

Betas are encouraged but not required.

This fest is not anonymous so feel free to share snippets and tag @1d-oneliner-fest

Communication about the fest will happen via Tumblr, so please keep an eye on your messages! If you need to contact the mod, you can message this Tumblr account or @larry-hiatus

If you have any questions or concerns, please don’t hesitate to reach out!

Reblog this post if you can! I appreciate it!

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catboy-jaebeom · 2 years ago

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week seven of #got7revival: the moment that made you an ahgase

this question is incredibly hard to answer, because I don't think it was one single moment, it was a couple that made me think "okay, yeah, maybe I'm in this deeper than I thought" and then didn't turn back around, lol, because I didn't feel I really wanted to. so, here's a few moments during the last one year and eight month since I got into kpop and GOT7.

late-March 2021

I am looking for faceclaims for my original characters and Pinterest offers me the famous pictures of Jaebeom and that shoot on the rooftop with his anti-eyebrow piercing and the nose ring, and I am gone. my friend A shows me another one of them and kinda looks up GOT7 out curiosity and sends me some of their songs; I spend the next few hours — and days — on a deep dive into the rabbit hole, and the rest is history.

July 2021

A sends me the bodyshop ad Youngjae did for that white musk perfume. I'm out with friends at the time and in the inner city, shopping district. about twenty minutes later I've bought the shower gel of that line. I tell another kpop friend ( a veteran army and atiny ) that I think now that I've actually bought a product simply because one of my kpop boys has promoted it ( and of course because I actually love the smell ) there is no going back for me. she laughs but agrees.

late summer 2021

curious about Jinyoung's acting efforts, A and I watch He Is Psychometric and love it, and then start with The Devil's Judge ( which I have yet to finish, yes, I know, gods, where has the past year gone to wjkddk ). I also watch Yaksha on release date in April the following year.

mostly winter 2021

Mark releases a couple songs and I remember writing a whole Text on how My Life has moved me. ( tho I've never sent it to him or anything, but man, My Life. )

April 2022

for my ahgase anniversary I create a fan twt account, and my first tweet is something along the lines of "now that we might be getting a comeback soon, I might as well." mind you, that was before they ever confirmed anything, but that was definitely one of the moments where I realized that, yes, I'm definitely in this for the long run now.

May 5th 2022

the Yugyeom concert in Berlin!! my very first kpop concert ever, and my gods was it good. I won't forget meeting so many kind ahgase who immediately adopted me when realizing how baby I was in terms of being an ahgase. and I definitely won't forget Yugyeom performing and dancing and speaking English ;; it was a great day.

May 21st – May 23rd 2022

comeback weekend !!!! I talked about that already in my Fave Era post, but the fun we had not only on that weekend but also in the weeks leading up to it with all the concept pictures and the teaser for the album tracks and the MV, and then when we edited all those hardhats onto our icons and all. what a good time that was, wow. also when JayB managed to transfer the rights for GOT7 and all the music and all that, I remember I was so incredibly proud of him, of them, and of me in a way because I had clearly picked the right group to stan.

September-ish 2022

since I kept talking about GOT7 and other kpop groups to one of my mutuals on here, he asked to listen to them, whether I could send him some MV or song to listen to, one that I recommend. ever since, I keep throwing him new videos and have made playlists and share exciting news with him, and I feel if you're at the point where you can casually and calmly recommend their music to someone else and it feels great to see them like your group, you've definitely earned your place, right?

Honourable Mentions

somewhen in April last year I was watching one of those things you didn't notice in ____ videos, and finally realized that Mark is in fact the oldest and not the maknae. yes, he fooled another one. that was also the moment I realised I finally knew all of their names and could attach them to faces so that was nice.

when I listened to the mindset clips Jaebeom had made, and felt so very comforted and understood. him sharing all of that is something very precious to me, I feel honoured he did that and that we are able to hear it. I think he's helping so many people with it.

that afternoon a few months ago when I went through yt and watched a lot of X reacts to GOT7 for the first time videos, and let me tell you how much fun it was to, like, see them fall in love, vibe with the songs, and point out certain members like I had a year prior. also the amounts of time people already knew Jackson but nobody else kadkkfkdd.

anyway, thank you @def-jaes for hosting this GOT7 revival this was so so so much fun! especially to see everyone come together and create !! we should do that more often <3

#got7revival #got7 #leafmiilk does stuff

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blogplot · 2 months ago

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When you are Anne Clark and the Rest doesn't Matter

Audio Version

(Please note, the audio version might get out of date if I have to edit the text for mistakes or update something. This is for people with visual impairment or people on the go. Also, Jeff Aug's name in the AI audio is assumed as the month of August, but it's simply “Aug”.)

When I was around 16/17 years old in Germany, I was introduced to Anne Clark's music by someone in hospital. I wasn't too keen on the harsh sounds and cold voice at first, and I'm ashamed to say I started loving Clark's music after I smoked a joint with the same friend who introduced me to her music. Maybe I wasn't ready for new sounds, and had to “get it” while under some kind of influence.

It wasn't that her music was bad or boring or low-quality, it was that I loved soft sounds and singing at the time, as well as folky stuff. I had to find my way to her music. But loved it from then on.

Fast forward a couple of decades, having moved away from Germany to two countries, and for a few years having Clark's music off my radar, I rediscovered it again in the late 2000's when I moved back to London.

I started to buy her new, more mellow music, still with poetry, combined with my discovery of Rainer Maria Rilke, Erich Fried, Emily Dickinson, Kae Tempest (formerly Kate) parallel to that and years before. I started searching for gigs in the UK as I went to hundreds of concerts over the years, and London being paradise for music, I didn't see any concerts with Anne Clark.

What Happened?

On her website I started to fill in a contact form to enquire if she ever plays in London as I could see concert dates mainly in Germany. To my surprise, Anne herself responded. I did not expect a response, and if at all then from a representative or management

Anne was very prompt and kind in her response, and a few months later she did play in London with Herr B.

From then on some correspondence started, which was mainly initiated by me. I was gobsmacked of course, having listened to her music on and off for many years.

When Clark and Herr B. played in London's The Garage in Islington, I saw a fan outside the venue in the queue behind me holding up a big black book with Anne's image. After the concert at home I started to research what books where out there on or by Anne and found “Notes Taken, Traces Left”.

It was a little bit of a challenge to find a copy, I cannot remember if it was on Clark's website in the merch store, or where I finally found it. I ordered it, and started to devour the 300+ page part autobiography, part lyrics with translation book.

The middle section like in all artists’ books full of photos from gigs, interviews, touring etc. But I actually started READING the book, word for word. On the left page the English song lyric, opposite on the right the German translation.

Knowing her songs and lyrics, I started to discover a mistake. And then another, and then another … Being in email correspondence with Anne already with small talk and about her gig, I emailed her that I found a few mistakes.

The more I read, the more mistakes popped up. Anne then asked me to go through the whole book looking for mistakes, which I did. She then commissioned me and later someone created a website where I was placed as the main translator with the others who helped me in a team upon requesting some help. Some of Anne’s German friends who love English and her work, and previously were introduced to me. They and the band and other collaborators also appeared on the new website. And to my despair the website also was full of mistakes, even though for weeks I tried to get access to it to look for mistakes before they launched it. Anne just gave jobs to everyone but didn’t take charge.

I started to get angry with further mistakes on a new project with the website. My anger that time manifested in cynicism and sarcasm which pissed Anne off. If people have watched Ricky Gervais’ series “Afterlife” where he plays a widow who pisses everyone off with angry sarcasm after his wife died of cancer, I turned to sarcasm when I discovered mistakes on the website hours before launch, but was denied access until the day before while I worked at my job until 9pm, no time to correct everything.

In hindsight, this “commissioning” which was completely verbal (well, in writing via email), but should have been done professionally, with a contract, a deadline etc.

But of course, as she is “Anne Clark” I was delighted, gobsmacked and happy to dive into the work.

The book was initially done and overseen by Clark's manager Jeff Aug, who also is her guitarist. When Anne referred me to Aug to liaise with the mistakes I found, he wasn't a happy camper and from the get go started to passive-aggressively patronise me. It wasn't a one-off and at one point I was hurt and confused and mentioned something to Anne. She then rebuked him via email copying me in.

From then on he stopped, but even among meeting the band for the first time in Bochum, Germany at one of Clark's concerts in 2014, Aug was always distant and ignored me. Fair enough, it must have pissed him off that some “fan” out of the UK presents his butchering of Anne Clark's lyrics, and he was confronted with such a mess of a book that he fucked up.

In hindsight, after the initial “wow, I met Anne Clark and work on her book”, she should have fired him. Maybe I'm too harsh, and surely if she would fire him, she'd fire at least two positions in one person: her management and her guitarist, and in the case of the book the translator and editor. At least three known positions in one person. And maybe this is a band on a tight budget, but I’d rather scrap some projects and do whatever remaining project properly. Less is more. And quality is everything.

I appreciate that Anne did not fire him and that her band are a close-nit band, like family. But what happened after is what has made me stop respecting her work. I respect Anne Clark as a human being and truly believe she is a good person.

I just have different work ethics when it comes to the work I put out. It felt like her lyrics, her book, her work was more important to me than to her. She even made a joke at one point when I asked her about a sentence in one of her songs, if she meant it in this or that way in order to know how to accurately interpret and therefore translate it.

Her joking kind of knocked the wind out of it a little, because I tried to correct her work in the best possible way and “fix” the disaster Jeff Aug created. But in hindsight I think Anne doesn't even care.

When Emailing became my Source for Communication as well as Curse

In the middle of working on the book my brother died. I don't want to get into great detail at this point and might do a longer version at a later time. But everything surrounding his death was extremely traumatic. On top of that, my workplace had nothing better to do than try to get rid of me from day one I became bereaved. That in itself fills books, and I may elaborate on this here later as well.

Anne was extremely empathetic and supportive, even visiting me for a weekend. And even in hindsight I believe, I know she meant it. What followed was just 100% my fault, but my trauma and years of writing emails to Anne, to friends, to strangers, to my workplace, to anyone I had an email address.

I went into years-long “emailing-spree” after I received the news of my brother's death via an ice-cold email. In the beginning I didn't understand my emailing until it dawned on me that this email about his death catapulted me into this emailing frenzy.

Of course Anne, like many others started to withdraw, and from early on ghosted me for years. My trauma also was that the friends I had, or thought I had, some friends of 30 years withdrew early on, and not because of emailing. They were just at a loss and left me for dead.

This added to the grief and trauma and I started drinking heavily, writing countless drunken mails to countless people, including Anne. At first Anne responded that I could “write it all to her” after one person who worked on her website was confused about my emails as well as Facebook public posts.

And I did, I wrote it all to Anne, but also to countless other people.

My grief was 95% anger. Later diagnosed with PTSD, lost my job, lost more friends, lost my parents as they died and a rat-tail of losses for 9 years. I still stand at Ground Zero of my life and don’t want to go on.

Fast forward to 2024, I am still writing emails to people, not as intense or angry, but still not recovered. The NHS mental health service has always been hard to access, even before the pandemic. With hard to access I mean specific trauma therapy. I can access therapy which is mostly a one-of 6-session therapy, but there is a huge lack of trauma therapy. My odyssey through the NHS mental health service is another book.

And at this point here I want to say again in case Anne reads this one day, I'm not sure if I'll tag her in, but my emails were too much, too angry, too drunk, too traumatised, rubbish written at times. And I apologise again for that and any emails and online comments. I will always regret this, not just regarding her. But she never once requested for me to stop.

I even thought she must have blocked me or doesn't access her email anymore, or my mails land in the spam folder. I thought she doesn't read or receive my mails, even though none of my mails ever bounced back like it started doing about a year after my brother died, as I was bombarding his email inbox even though he died. But as there was no logging into his account and no more engagement on his account apart from emails coming in, his email account shut down about a year or two after his death.

Sometime early in 2024, me being drunk again, I couldn't understand why Anne never responded, even not responding by asking me to stop emailing. It could have been her management, representative or lawyer asking me to stop. But she just did what she always does when she drops people, she ghosted me.

I did apologise many times, then emailed again, then apologised, then emailed again, angry, regretful, pleading, angry, drunk … everything in-between.

I then emailed her, her management and some of her fans after she openly copied some of her fans in when she sent out a newsletter. I was angry and did what I never did in my normal times before my brother died. I used to be extremely discreet and loyal, so much so, I neglected my own health. That is my fault and responsibility.

After my brother died, all the trauma, what happened at work etc. etc. I became the opposite.

I emailed Clark, her fans, her management … and a few days later received an email from police in the UK with the threat that I would get arrested if I email Anne again. In an email to her fans she accused me of “stalking” her for years, even though 1. she never ask me to stop emailing and 2. I emailed countless people with equal length and/or intensity. That doesn't excuse anything, but I am giving context here. And 3. Anne gave me her phone numbers and address. Stalking is when people show up at your home or workplace which I never did nor would do. And according to the police station she reported me to, Anne lives about 30-60+ minute away by public bus depending on time of the day and traffic. And if there is online stalking, that would be after someone asked a stalker to stop contacting them, but they continued. Anne never asked me to stop emailing, and she is free to sue me now in case I tag her in with this post or email her again.

ONLY WHEN I copied some of her fans in did Anne call the police and lie that I supposedly stalk her, while she never asked me to stop emailing. That's rock'n'roll for you!

This police threat of arrest, I happened to know, was an unlawful threat by a police officer who already has a complaint about harassment against him. As the police are public servants, paid for by us tax payers, WE are their boss not the other way around! And as they are public servants, we can request and also on the Internet access information about every officer. And this officer has a harassment complaint by a woman against him. This complaint was found in favour of the cop. But knowing the corruption in British police, which is reported about constantly, it is common knowledge how male officers harass not only female colleagues, or reports on domestic violence, but also harass members of the public.

I know that it takes a lot for a woman to come forward and raise a formal complaint against a police officer, and with it basically come up against a system of the infamous “thin blue line”. Most women, even after being raped by men don’t go to police because they know how they are often victim-blamed at worst or ignored at best by police. And for a woman to come forward with a complaint of harassment against an officer means something.

I raised a complaint about two officers once threatening me because I wouldn’t give them my name after I called 999 a few times regarding what sounded like domestic violence at my neighbour’s flat on another floor. I could not get to the other floor as we don’t have fob keys to other levels and other levels have no access to my floor. The female cop threatened me with court order that they would ram in my door if I don’t give them my name. Of course she had no cause for such a threat and was bluffing. Her male colleague even started by saying “You have done nothing wrong …” while the female officer played bad cop.

I realized later I should have never opened the door and will never open the door to police ever again, which is my right. But I raised the complaint against the officers at a time when I was very vulnerable as my mum just died a week before and I couldn’t bury her. I even made the mistake to say in my complaint that I feel vulnerable and with anxiety due to all the losses and traumas in the last few years.

A few days into my complaint, a male police officer without uniform turned up at my door alone saying he’s police and “just wants to chat”. He must have been part of the investigative team reading my complaint, thinking ‘woman + vulnerable = opportunity’. He knocked quite persistent and walked back and forth between my kitchen and bathroom windows. He kept saying my name and in a creepy way said, “I know you’re there, I just want to chat”. Again, it was clear he was bluffing. It is very noisy outside my flat entrance. My thick door and double glaze windows keep noise out as well as in. I could have talked in a normal way with a guest in my flat, he would not have heard me. It was the usual police trick to try and get access or unlawfully fish for data like they always love to do.

I remained silent as I know you do NOT need to open the door to police and ignored his bluffs. Police can only demand you to open when they have a search or arrest warrant, which of course he not only didn’t have, but would have had no grounds for having. He even checked if my door was unlocked as I saw the door handle move slightly. That then really freaked me out! It felt all around like someone trying to cross boundaries.

Now, call me paranoid, but if a lone male cop without uniform wiggles at the door handle, imagine my door would have been unlocked. And with the horrific rape and murder of Sarah Everard by an off-duty officer who was KNOWN for flashing his junk in photos, and the many other revelations of cops harassing and raping women as well as police corruption in Britain, I was shaking in my home not opening the door. The creepy cop eventually left and of course my complaint didn’t go anywhere as cops always get off the hook unless you have solid evidence and stamina to go through with the complaint. But I know in my gut he was up to no good.

On a side note, the domestic violence noise stopped after the police came by a few times and I heard loud knocks at the neighbour’s door. I cannot ignore when I hear what sounds like a child or high pitched woman crying and screaming.

When I raised my counter argument to the police regarding Anne Clark’s allegation of stalking, and raised a complaint against this officer for making an unlawful threat of arrest, as well as presenting emails to police between Anne Clark and me, the police dropped the threat of arrest. But angry at police yet again not following laws themselves and trying to abuse their powers, I continued to request accountability of this particular officer. But it finally showed me how Anne deals with people she can't be bothered with anymore.

I read a comment on YouTube once under one of Clark's videos by a person who lamented their mistake, saying that they started a friendship with Anne, but they made a mistake and the friendship was ruined. But I also saw how when Anne doesn't need people anymore, she just drops them like “hot potatoes” as we say in Germany. She just moves on like they never existed. And this is the reason why I write this down, apart from having written her (too much) but she decided to ghost forever I write in the open. I exist. I have dignity, even though I was and am a mess with all the losses and trauma. Thank you to Anne again for the opportunity, and I will always be sorry and regretful to how I became and wrote.

But most people just go into the hole in the ground and lick their wounds and might think they are at fault for everything, because this is “Anne Clark”, and she can do no wrong. And Anne is used to being the only “type” in her genre who is not challenged like other artists are. That might have put her in this position to just drop people because she can. She can get what she wants, when she wants because she is “Anne Clark” no matter how others may feel. Just drop them once they are of no use for you or too inconvenient. I surely have messed up with all my emailing, with many people, and drinking and trauma doesn't excuse everything.

I still have enough anger in me in how neglectful and careless German police was regarding my brother's death, especially passing the buck to a woman who was appointed by the court to look after my brother's estate as they could not have been arsed to find at least my mum who lived about 50km away from my brother. And this woman then emailing me the news of his death which was the duty of police to do!

German police should have contacted British police to knock at my door. Or if police didn't know my address, they could've emailed me asking me to please contact British police or give them my address or whatever way to give me the news IN PERSON with a mental health worker present!!!

I still have enough anger in me to not only NOT fear police, but to know enough of my rights to distinguish a lawful vs. an unlawful arrest including a threat of arrest. Unlawful arrests and unlawful threats of arrest piss me off after having been fear managed at work and in this supposedly free society that thinks they can boss people around who seem “less” or vulnerable to whoever seems stronger but on a power trip. And this one was so unlawful, any person without any legal knowledge would have known that.

But it showed me how careless Anne Clark is, and what it says about her, never asking me to stop emailing, but going to police once I wrote in anger to her fans that her book is full of mistakes.

I agree, I wasn't fair doing this after initially back in 2014 and beyond having been extremely protective of her book and work. I think deep down inside I felt, why the heck does Anne Clark not care about her own work, in how Jeff Aug butchered it? And I'm taking on this labour of love, because I never did this for money. Although now for the record I requested for Anne, Jeff etc. to not use my work or if it's used, then pay me!

I wanted to tell this to Anne while she, I and everyone else is still alive. I do not know what Anne planned or plans for her book in the future, but I wanted her to know that I don't appreciate how she handled everything. I apologised many times and still fell again. That is my fault and my flaw. But I was traumatised and alone, without support. And because she knows other issues in my life, traumas, experiences, it seems she just dismissed me as a survivor who can take some more bullshit.

To run an organization, organization as in a band, music projects etc. and not be responsible for your own work and to show contempt for those who poured their love, time and money into your work, you show more about yourself than the screwed up way I have become.

How easy and convenient for Anne & Co. to solely put the blame on me without taking any responsibility of the way she/they handled things or neglect their part in anything. That is the difference between entitlement in artists vs. regular people who work from pay-check to pay-check.

Anne’s way to deal with things is to ignore it and hope it goes away. It doesn’t work that way. Unsolved or unresolved issues will always come back to haunt you.

Anne has an army of fans behind her, groups of family, friends, her band etc. I have no-one and was left for dead. I picked a fight with police in Germany while drunk and my mum's dementia getting worse. I was back into the losing streak again watching my mum slip away, having lost my father already two years before. I was drunk and five tall German police men grabbed me, shoved me into their car and whisked me off to jail where I spent a night to sober up.

When they released me the next morning, they literally kicked me out, refusing to tell me why I was man-handled so badly and jailed for the night. As I was drunk and alone, I couldn’t fully remember what happened and would have no chance against five police men in court. When I arrived home, my mum thought I spent the night with a friend, which I often did over the years when I visited my mum in Germany and did my little tour in neighbouring villages and towns, spending the night at friends.

I never told her that I spent the night in a jail cell sobering up, and covered over my black and blue marks on my legs, the marks from the handcuffs after these five tall brave German police men grabbed me, with no police woman present. They were handcuffing and holding me in a lock until we reached the police station and then dragged me to a cell like I was a Mafia boss about to terrorise the city. I don't fear police dear Anne. In a drunken stupor I wanted them to kill me! I come up against strong people, against a group, against anyone bigger than me. I don't hide behind a group or a band or fans or friends.

My mum died during the 2. lockdown in Germany, both the UK and Germany shut down again. I couldn't bury her.

To go to police, to instrumentalize police as if they are your personal bodyguard, your personal jury and judge, showed me that I wasted my time on Anne's work. I still have her music someone buried deep on a hard-drive, in case I need them for reference regarding the book, but have thrown away all the CDs. It has no meaning anymore, and I have no interest in any of her work anymore.

I have lost everything and have nothing left to lose. I don't care what people think or do. It means nothing anymore.

When you're an artist like Anne Clark or any other artist, and you mainly know applause, compliments, haven't worked for years or even decades in a “normal” job, maybe you think that it's an entitled response to ghost people. Maybe it’s normal to leave them for dead, to treat them like they're a nuisance, or like they never existed in the first place. That's okay, but I'm a human who was dealt a shit deck of cards, had no support, everyone shitting on me while I was in the mud. And all I could do was scream in emails. Call the police, superstar.

And all people do to make it easier on themselves is to tell people like me who go through the pits of hell alone to be sweet, to forgive, to not be bitter and spew their toxic positivity on me.

It's so much easier to care about puppies and animals in general. They don't talk back, they don’t challenge you, they don't question you.

What hurt me as well is that fans, including myself, spend their hard-earned money on Anne Clark's book and get such a poor product with wrong meaning in some of the translations due to the original English text being wrong at times.

Yes, I don't take this for granted and was deeply touched to have had this opportunity to work with Anne. And I fucked it all up. I take responsibility. BUT, I was alone. I was traumatised. The alcohol didn't help. But if you think that you can just leave me for dead because my trauma fucked me up, and I have survived so much, I cannot be silent and just roll over to keep letting people treat me like shit. Call me bitter or whatever else in your dictionary, but I have lost everything, have nothing to lose, and don’t care whatever else I lose. But I keep my dignity.

You can come after me, and try to shut me down all over the Internet, I don't give a flying fuck. I PUROOSELY burn bridges now, especially this bridge with Anne Clark. I have my dignity, no matter how fucked up I am.

I'm sure Jeff Aug is delighted how I am the villain now and he is vindicated. But how many copies of his butchered version of Anne Clark's work lies in book shelves of fans who, some like me, might have scratched together their last penny to purchase the book. They might have devoured it, not fluent in English like I am, not realising how some of the meaning of the lyrics and therefore the German translation is distorted. No-one discovered any mistakes, none of her long-term friends, none of her German fans, none of her band members until I showed it to Anne. And even now I found more mistakes.

This also means that none of her friends, colleagues, no-one really seemed to have read the text. They probably just scanned over it or looked at their favourite song. People tend to just skip to the middle section of the photos and see this kind of book as a memorabilia. But I actually read books. And when you come to my home and I have a special set of dishes, or items that hang on the wall, I also use them, no matter how precious they are. In other words, those are not just items hanging on the wall to go oooh and aaah, they are there for decoration AND practical use. The most precious book by your favourite artist, even if it’s a limited edition or a Deluxe version with gold binding … is there to READ, not just to collect as a trophy or for the artist to add to their portfolio while the work is shit.

I remember when Anne visited me, I opened the book to its last pages and asked her with excitement what this album is which title I didn’t recognize, as I thought there must be an album I don’t know yet and can discover. I thought I knew her complete published discography, but maybe I missed an album and could add it to my collection. She looked at it and in a more humorous way said something like, “Ah, that’s such-and-such an album, the name (title of the album) is just wrong …”

Another sinking of the heart.

I basically did the post-production proof-read. I self-published a book of poetry in German and know how expensive proof-reading is. It covers half the bill when you do self-publishing book-on-demand. I didn't purchase the proof-read for my poems because, 1. I couldn't afford it, and 2. I mistyped some words and sentences on purpose. The title of my book is already a word that doesn’t exist, but people still understand what I meant to say. A professional proof-reader would have had to get back to me constantly about the meaning, or I would have had to constantly correct the proof-readers “corrections” on my purposely misspelled words/sentences.

It's like with Quentin Tarantino's film "Inglourious Basterds" or the name Google being a misspelling of “Googol”, the number 1 followed by 100 zeros and other purposely misspelled pieces of literature or brand names. So, spending half the budget of the whole book project on proof-reading would have been a waste of money. And apart from that I was not and am not an established artist where my work would be of great significance or hurt my reputation with my work ethics. And to this day, I'm proud to say, I have not fond ANY mistakes in my own book! Unfortunately the publisher went bust a few years after I put my book out. I never had the chance to grow the book and grow the sales. But I'm used to losses now. And maybe I sabotage myself for fear of more losses. I don’t know.

In hindsight as well, in one of my later emails I wrote to Anne, when she already ghosted me, that as soon as she learnt about mistakes in her book, she should have pulled the book off the sales. But she continued to sell it, KNOWING how flawed it was. I was even told by the person who manned the merch table at gigs, when the last book was sold. I remember having had an unpleasant feeling in my gut because the book was NOT what fans expected NOR what they deserved! It feels so disrespectful from an artist towards her fans to then keep selling a poor product, knowing how poor it is.

If as an artist you act so privileged and you forgot where you came from, you are so used to flattery and even worship that you disrespect your fans, your customers, you don't deserve my respect. I respect Anne Clark as a person, and I know she is a good human. But I lost my respect for her work ethics, even lost my love for her music, and I surely have not respect for Jeff Aug's attitude. I don't care how good you are in your craft, if you disrespect your customers, your fans who many of them live from pay-check to pay-check like I did, living in London on low-pay, and feel no shame, and you call the police on me …

Anne Clark is the person who is ultimately responsible for the work she puts out or the work she commissions to be put out on her behalf. And if you don't care about your own work, no-one will, and no wonder your work gets butchered. But even after it got distorted, Anne still doesn't care. And there is where I wasted my time and money.

If you read this Anne, as I'm not sure if to tag you in, I have nothing against you personally, but I'm burning this bridge forever and am grateful that you have shown by calling police how little you care for people. You are free to sue me, I really don't give a flying fuck. I had to grow up and not see artists’ work as something special. It's just another artist putting out art, in this case pretty careless and you have decades of having people listen to your work and applaud you constantly.

I will not be applauded, I am used to being the “bad guy” now since my brother died, while all I tried to do was coming to terms. And I will not apologise anymore. I need people to apologise to me. I will not request it, because It will never come. But I need to tell my story.

And if you were to ask me what the most punk thing is that I've ever experienced, I'd say that the "cool" Anne Clark called the police on me for emailing, even though she never asked me to stop. And on top of that, she happened to report me to a police man who has had a complaint of harassment towards a woman against him. You can't make that shit up!

“I see your true colours shining through.”

For readers, I might add some more either underneath here, or on a separate space here on this page regarding what happened with my brother, my work etc. to give context to why I became so screwed up. I used to be discreet, put my head down, worked my ass off. Those days are over. And I willingly burn bridges that need to be burnt. Anne Clark can do whatever she wants, try to shut me down, talk to fans, it’s her prerogative. But my time of flipping out and licking wounds in the pit of hell is over.

And as a tip, if an artist that you love asks you to do work on their projects, make sure it's in a contract, not by word, not even by email, but a formal PROFESSIONAL contract with guidelines and what you will get out of it! I still say that I never did this for money, but for the love of Anne's work. I lost that love and have no interest in anything related to Anne Clark.

Thank you for reading. Best wishes to all.

P.S. if you find mistakes in my text, please note I am not a professional writer, English is not my first language, and I write this solely on my own without any help. Apart from that, I don’t get paid for this.

#Anne Clark #Sleeper in Metropolis #Our Darkness #Notes Taken Traces Left #New Wave #Electronic Music #New Wave 1980s #1980s music

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miniaturemoonheart · 2 years ago

Text

After Dark

Mr.Kitty

Lyrics

About

Tracklist

Comments

374.5K

Translations

After Dark Lyrics

[Verse 1]

I see you, you see me

How pleasant, this feeling

The moment you hold me

I missed you, I'm sorry

I've given what I have

I showed you I'm growing

The ashes fall slowly

As your voice consoles me

[Chorus]

As the hours pass

I will let you know

That I need to ask

Before I'm alone

How it feels to rest

On your patient lips

To eternal bliss

I'm so glad to know

As the hours pass

I will let you know

That I need to ask

Before I'm alone

How it feels to rest

On your patient lips

To eternal bliss

I'm so glad to know

[Verse 2]

We're swaying to drum beats

In motion, I'm feeling

My patience controlling

The question, I won't speak

We're telling the stories

Our laughter, he knows me

We're leaving, we're talking

You're closer, it's calming

[Chorus]

As the hours pass

I will let you know

That I need to ask

Before I'm alone

How it feels to rest

On your patient lips

To eternal bliss

I'm so glad to know

As the hours pass

I will let you know

That I need to ask

Before I'm alone

How it feels to rest

On your patient lips

To eternal bliss

I'm so glad to know

[Bridge]

The night will hold us close and the stars will guide us home

I've been waiting for this moment, we're finally alone

I turn to ask the question, so anxious, my thoughts

Your lips were soft like winter, in your passion, I was lost

[Chorus]

As the hours pass

I will let you know

That I need to ask

Before I'm alone

How it feels to rest

On your patient lips

To eternal bliss

I'm so glad to know

As the hours pass

I will let you know

That I need to ask

Before I'm alone

How it feels to rest

On your patient lips

To eternal bliss

I'm so glad to know

As the hours pass

I will let you know

That I need to ask

Before I'm alone

How it feels to rest

On your patient lips

To eternal bliss

I'm so glad to know

As the hours pass

I will let you know

That I need to ask

Before I'm alone

How it feels to rest

On your patient lips

To eternal bliss

I'm so glad to know

Tags

Pop

Ambient Pop

Ambient

Dark Ambient

House

Dark Pop

Piano

Witch House

Post-Punk

New Wave

Synth-Pop

Electro-Pop

Electronic

Dark Wave

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#Witch song

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elvisabutler · 2 years ago

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heart's got teeth

summary: tired of never seeing your boyfriend after his hunts, you stay awake and interesting things happen.

rating: M, if i see a single one of you minors anywhere near this we are going to have a long talk about how you have got to wait until you're eighteen for this word count: 4697. i do not want to talk about it.

tw: blood, vampires, a bit of dirty talk, biting, bruising, hurting other people. it's kind of self explanatory when i mention vampire austin. blood kink. a lot of blood, like it's a bit much.

author notes: blame the discord, ana, gabby and basically any long haired picture of mr. austin butler. oh and that one pic from the dead don't die. yeah i am apparently going to write fix it fics, whole love letters to priscilla and elvis and reader inserts that are dirty af with maybe a fluff on the side. i don't know what this fandom has done to me?? also forgive me i am secretly a boomer when it comes to editing my tumblr posts, so if something messed up someone's got to tell me. also totally not beta read because i like to pretend i don't need one.

It should have freaked you out when he told you, he had thought it would freak you out when he told you after all not many people react to finding out someone they care about is a vampire. Sure, it's always a cliche that when you're dating someone you'd find it so cool if they were a vampire but that's for movies and television, not in real life. Except when Austin sat you down one night looking more nervous than you've ever seen him- with the exception of when he had been waiting to hear from Baz about Elvis- you found yourself joking from the moment he had told you.

"Is this why you have such a baby face? Not just good genes but being a vampire? That's just mean, Austin, you should have saved some for the rest of us."

The resulting smile and laughter you got back could have powered the entire west coast for years to come. It's that moment that told you you were in it for the long haul with him and that death itself would have to come between you. The problem was that Austin always needed more blood than you could give. You'd offer time and time again but it was always the same song and dance.

"Baby, I can't take that much from you," or "darling, I don't know if I could stop myself."

It was bullshit, in your opinion, you were a grown woman, if you wanted your boyfriend, the love of your life to feed from you so much you almost passed out then who was he to stop you. Besides maybe someone who might have known better since he had been a vampire for as long as he had and someone who knew how much blood he requires.

Okay so maybe you knew he had a point which is how you and him had come to the agreement that whenever he needed to feed an excessive amount beyond what you could take from your own vein by needle that he'd go out and take what he'd need from others only to come home to you and your life. It was a simple enough arrangement but Austin complicated it by never coming home when you were still awake. At first it didn't bother you because for all you knew he just lost track of time or it took longer to find willing victims who wouldn't spill his secret the second his fangs would enter their skin. However it kept happening over and over again and it seemed no matter how late you stayed awake you'd always find yourself in bed tucked into a clean and put together Austin Butler.

It was in a singular word- infuriating. He wasn't cheating, he wasn't gallivanting around, he was just doing what he had to do to survive but he wasn't letting you be a part of it. He was shutting off a part of his life- hell he was shutting you off from him actually sustaining himself so he could live a life.

Tonight was going to be different though, you had made sure of it. Austin had left hours earlier with a soft kiss on your forehead as he tried not to wake you up from a nap and you had woken up an hour or so later ready to stay up until the break of dawn if you had to because this was it, this was when you would see just how your boyfriend looked when he arrived home. In hindsight, this was perhaps the worst idea you had ever had in your life.

Austin knew better than to show up even remotely before midnight, knowing your night owl tendencies would make it impossible for him to sneak by you to shower without seeing him covered in blood that wasn't yours or his own. He chose 1AM, his usual time to open the front door slowly without turning on any of the lights. It was situations like this that made him thankful for his heightened vision at night, without it he's positive he'd run into every chair and bit of furniture between the front door and the master bedroom of the house. Normally he'll check to hear your breathing the subtle rise and fall of your chest to make sure you were asleep but tonight had been particularly rough and all he could dream about was the shower and your body curled up against his. He shifted a little as he stood for a second, trying to remind himself that he couldn't climb into bed just yet. Maybe once he did though, he could lick you awake and watch you- okay no he needed to shower first, then contemplate how he was going to wake you up.

You had heard the front door open and carefully tried to not move a single muscle until you heard the creek of your bedroom door open. The moonlight manages to illuminate Austin's silhouette enough that your tongue darts out to lick your lips. You've never known yourself to have a blood kink- maybe a small one like all girls- but seeing your boyfriend like this sends such a shock to your core rest you have to stop and remind yourself of the plan and stop yourself from just moaning. Austin's white shirt is ripped and covered in blood with his neck practically drenched. There's a part of you that knows you should be concerned about the amount of blood but all you can think of is how Austin had to have looked at the time to leave such a mess. It's in that moment that you can't help the huff of air that leaves your mouth just picturing Austin's face buried in another person's neck, sinking his teeth into them-

"Baby?"

Shit. You were caught. It crossed your mind to stay silent and try and fake being asleep but then what would be the point of you still being awake. Still you stopped yourself from answering immediately and waited to hear Austin once more.

"I can hear you breathing, darling."

"That's creepy, Aus." You replied back without even missing a beat. Not the smartest thing for you to do, but you also knew you weren't wrong in saying that.

His hand moved to the light switch by the door and he stopped just short of turning it on. He knew what would happen when he did that, you'd see him covered in someone else's blood and run away screaming. He hasn't decided if he wants to risk it yet, if he wants to lose you yet. Thankfully you chose now to be a smart-ass and he can't help but chuckle.

"You're up late, you're gonna-"

Rather than hear him lecture you about staying up late you cut him off with a simple sentence as you stood up and started to walk up to him. "I stayed up to see you." Your eyes drifted to the light switch. "Turn on the light, Austin. Please."

He never had been able to resist you when you said please like you had earned it. It was never begging, it was always a simple please knowing that he couldn't deny you with what you deserved. His head shook and he found himself trying to come up with excuses as to why he wasn't going to before he looked at your face and saw your eyes pleading with him. Later on he would blame his response on the thrill of his hunt still strumming a steady beat of "take take take" in his head but you both know there was something else at play and he found his eyes drifting down to your neck where he sees your arteries taunting him and he shudders just slightly before doing as you asked.

If Austin looked gorgeous in the moonlight, seeing him in the light of your room puts him in the realm of a Greek God. Your tongue darts out to lick at your lips and you found yourself moving in front of him and before he had a chance to stop you your cheek was rubbing against the blood on his neck. You nuzzle your way up to his cheek, placing soft kisses as you do and your hand snakes up to cup his chin so that he's looking at you. It occurs to you that your face looks like a mirror image of your boyfriend's covered in blood and you tried to bite back the slight groan that exits your mouth at the thought before realizing that no, he needs to hear what this is doing to you.

"Y/N," He chokes out, trying to look anywhere but you and your now blood covered lips. He has had dreams of this, dreams of you hunting with him and coming back covered in blood he could just lick off of you slowly, after all you two were busy people you couldn't afford to waste a good meal. He forces himself to swallow after his tongue darts out to wet his lips. "What are you doing? I'm- you've got blood on you."

You look up at him through your eyelashes, batting them ever so slowly, a grin forming on your face. "I do, don't I? Oops. I just wanted to touch you, kiss you, show you how much I missed you." Your tongue runs across your lips slowly, licking at some of the blood on them. "Is that a problem?"

Austin's eyes narrow in on your lips and your tongue before he just snarls, flashing his canines as he picks you up. Here you were teasing him, licking at blood he hadn't covered you in, blood that you hadn't gotten yourself covered in while hunting with him, blood that isn't yours or his and that just wouldn't do. No, you needed to be shown this side of him if you were going to flagrantly disrespect it.

You let out a yelp as soon as your feet are lifted off the ground. It wasn't completely unexpected, you knew you were teasing Austin and that he was only a former human, he had limits to the amount of teasing he could take but the snarl and the lift was making you realize you might have pushed too far. Your arms found themselves wrapping around his neck, trying to give yourself some leverage to do anything other than be carried along for the ride. It works well enough for you to be able to nip at his exposed bloody neck, trying to get him to speak or say something so you know that everything is fine. His hands tighten on your thighs and in what feels like a single second you find yourself pinned between the wall and his heaving chest.

"You- You can't- fuck, Y/N you don't know what you're doing to me," He nuzzles at your neck, taking a controlled breath, you'd say he's sniffing at you but you're honestly not one hundred percent sure. "Haven't ever drunk from you like this, you already taste so sweet, you'd taste like ambrosia from your neck, baby."

"Austin-" You start to speak before you feel his teeth grazing your neck, you're pretty sure he's not breaking skin, but you know there will be a bruise tomorrow. "You can- you can if you want. I want you to do it."

"Darlin," His voice sounds wrecked and you can hear him dropping the g in darling like he's still Elvis Presley. Your thighs reflexively clench around his waist when you hear it as you try to gain some relief. "You promise? Because I-"

"Do it." It comes out more forceful than you mean it to but something in your tone seems to spur Austin on and you find yourself being practically thrown against your bed. You scramble up the sheets almost like you're trying to run away before feeling Austin's hand on your ankle pulling you down to the edge of the bed as he starts to place kisses up your thigh, lifting up your nightgown as he does.Your hands find their way to his hair, pulling at the strands and earning a groan from him before he actually bites down on your upper thigh so very close to your center. The sensation of his canines piercing your skin causes your thigh and entire leg to tense up and Austin notices, pulling away almost immediately, his mouth looking even redder than it was before.

“You tensed up.” His chest rises and falls quicker than you’ve ever seen it and for the first time you realize just how much power you might have over him. He would do anything for you, wouldn’t he? It makes you want to do what you’re pretty sure he wants desperately. You want his bites all over you, you want both of you to be covered in your blood. Your eyes flicker down to his crotch and you see the outline of his cock in his pants hard and likely ready for you. Your thighs clench together before you rub them together ever so slowly as your eyes find their way back to his face.

“It was- I didn’t mean to, I didn’t know it would feel like that, you’ve never drank from me like this. I liked it, Austin.” You unclench your legs and open them up so that Austin can see what he’s doing to you- what the idea of him biting you is doing to you. “Come back here please.”

He waits a moment, almost appearing to consider the merits of not doing as you ask before he ends up on his knees with his hands finding purchase on your legs. It’s a startlingly submissive position but the more you look into his eyes the more you realize it’s not, it’s him relinquishing just a hair bit of power to you just until he can take over when he knows what you want. “I want to- Y/N, I need to know you’ll stop me if I hurt you. I don’t trust myself to stop-”

You move quickly to silence him with a kiss on the lips. “I trust you with my life. Show me who you are, Austin.”

It’s as if a switch is flipped in him and within a second there’s another bite on your thigh, another puncture of your skin and you find yourself leaning back and grabbing at the white sheets. His hands make quick work of your nightgown as you hear the tearing of the fabric, any other time and you’d care but instead you shiver at the sensation of the cold air reaching your already overheating body. You want to tell him to kiss you, let you taste your own blood on his tongue but you can’t manage the words as he nips his way up to your cunt. You know you’re wet, probably drenched if you had to guess but if you had any doubts the growl you hear from your boyfriend’s mouth confirms it before you feel his tongue licking a stripe up your slit and you feel his fingers opening you up. His hair is the first thing your hands head to as his tongue starts to trace small circles around your clit. God, you always have loved his mouth and what he can do with it, but now after just two bites you swear it’s heightening the feeling of his tongue and his fingers. He bites down very softly on your clit before enveloping it in his mouth, choosing to just lavish the attention only there as you pull at his hair, your chest heaving as you feel the warmth in the pit of your stomach growing quicker than you thought was possible. You’re pretty sure you’re muttering nonsense at the moment but Austin seems to enjoy it, letting out a small hum that makes your hand tighten. His head starts to move back like he’s going to remove himself from your cunt before you can actually come and you don’t want that. You whine, trying to use the leverage you have holding his hair to your advantage to no avail as he pulls away, his mouth slick with a mixture of your juices and your blood. It is the hottest thing you have seen in your life and a whimper escapes your lips before you know what you’re doing.

Austin smirks before kissing your thighs until he reaches your hip bone, taking another bite and allowing you to see the blood dripping from the wound and letting some slip out of his mouth leaving a trail up your body as he leaves marks across your torso. You want to feel the pierce of his fangs again, but it reassures you that there will at least be bruising that you won’t be able to cover up in the morning. His eyes settle on your face witnessing how you’re shuddering at the touch of his fingers and of even the hint of his teeth and he wonders why he's waited this long to do this with you, had he known you'd react like this he would have done it far sooner. He wants to move to your breasts but he stops himself and moves back down your torso, licking the blood he had spilled on the way up. After all, it'd be a waste to have your blood just covering you without him devouring it.

"Mm," He hums, pulling away for a moment to place a kiss on your lips, "just like I thought, you're better than any ambrosia known to man."

You didn't know what ambrosia tasted like but if the way he spoke with such reverence was any indication it must have been something phenomenal. As it stood your own blood tasted strange but you couldn't tell if that was due to the blood itself or the mix of it with your other fluids. You want to keep kissing him, see if you can taste any more of yourself on his lips and in his mouth but he pulls away, kissing and licking a trail down to your breasts.

"I'd bite you on here, baby, but I don't want to ruin these girls."His tongue darts out to lick at your left nipple, giving it a little flick before enveloping it with his mouth, his teeth worrying it as you try to reach in between your legs to touch your neglected clit. Before you can reach it, however, Austin's hand is batting it away and replacing it with his own. He doesn't do what you want him to do, instead just leisurely touching it, almost teasing it with just grazes of his fingers.

"Austin Butler if you keep teasing me-" You have to pause as he bites down with just a little more force on the underside of your boob, "I will find holy water and a stake to kill you with."

You feel the huff of his laughter against your chest before he moves to your other breast and cups your mound, completely ignoring your clit. He knows what he's doing and you know it just as well. He's in control, not you. You don't get to make demands of him and yet when he pulls away after leaving another mark on your chest, you grab at his hair and pull him up to your lips, smashing your lips against his and biting at his lower lip. It's then that he finally just crawls on top of you, pressing his pelvis into yours and giving you just enough friction to let out a groan of relief. Still, you want more and now that he's actually on top of you, you use the slight advantage you have to flip your positions.

He shouts mildly startled before his hands go to your hips. "Baby girl, I'll put you back up here if you get up and let me take my pants off. I want to fuck you, but I can't do that with pants."

You don't want to get up but the idea of getting fucked when you're both like this is intoxicating so you jump off and notice that you've already dripped blood onto the sheets. That'll stain. He makes quick work of his pants, his belt clinking to the floor before you have time to really think about it and you end up just allowing yourself to slowly straddle Austin, sinking slowly onto his cock. His hands move back your hips and he feels the warmth of your blood in one of his hands before realizing that was the hip that he bit already. He knows he shouldn't do what he's about to do, but he finds himself glancing at your mouth with the blood on it and your neck with the blood on it and he's reminded of the many visions he’s had of you bloody just like he is when he comes back from a hunt. Later on he won’t even bother to explain why he does what he does, but before you even realize it, Austin’s hand finds its way to your chest and what feels like all over your skin, you can feel the warmth of your own blood under your skin and on your skin and before you know it, your mouth is back on Austin, trying to devour his lips, your tongue meeting his own as you grind your hips. You can feel him trying to pull away but you move your hand to cup the back of his head, your fingers tangling in his hair and pulling him even closer if possible. He moves his hand to your breast, taking your nipple in between his fingers, pinching it and causing you just enough pain that you gasp into your kiss and he manages to pull away from it. You whimper at the loss but soon follow that initial whimper with more as his lips kiss a trail down to your neck. Austin’s mouths at one specific spot, he doesn’t use teeth, not yet, instead just wanting to see what he can cause before he bites. You hear him mumble what almost sounds like nonsense if you weren’t paying attention to your neck in between kisses.

“Gotta promise me you’ll make me stop, God I wanna turn you, want to live with you forever, drink from you like this forever. Cover you in blood. Claim you in blood.”

Everything he says should terrify you but all you can think is that you’ve never wanted anything more than what he’s talking about at that moment. Maybe that’s why you find yourself trying to expose your neck to him more with a small whisper. “Bite me, Austin. I want to taste myself on your tongue.”

Those are the magic words for him and in a flash you feel the pierce of his fangs into your neck and you swear you see stars. You keen as you feel your cunt clenching around him. You’re not coming, not quite yet, but you’re pretty sure if he even touches your clit you’re done for. He sucks for what feels like an eternity before pulling away with a snarl as he kisses you with such reckless abandon that all you can do is wrap your tongue around his, and swallow the blood that you find is still in his mouth. It ignites something in you that has you pushing him to lay down on the bed, making even more of a mess of your white sheets. Austin grasps at your skin as you bounce on his cock, trying to get the angle just right as he covers you in your own blood, smearing it across your skin like he’s painting a masterpiece.

“Jesus Christ, baby. Come on, ride me like this, let me feel you, feel how much you wanted this.” He’s practically slurring his words, the pleasure from him drinking from your neck and your cunt squeezing his dick combining into a haze. He wants to hold off on coming, wants to make sure you come first, but he can feel every bit of your body strumming in the air and his hands tense on your hips, trying to get you to stop moving. “I’m gonna come, I can’t-”

“Do it, come in me Austin, it’s fine, I want you to.” You’re not focusing on anything but the feel of his dick inside you and how your body is winding tighter and tighter and how for some reason you want to do this every night and how you want to taste his blood or more of your own. “Show me what this did to you, please. Please.”

That’s what does it, your final please has him tensing under you and coming with a groan against the sheets, trying to muffle it so the neighbors don’t wonder what is going on this late at night between the two of you. You feel the warmth of his cum and with only a bit of a stutter in your hips you move to grab one of Austin’s hands and guide it to your clit. Despite how his eyes have practically rolled into the back of his head, he gets the message, and starts to play with it, touching it in just the way you like while you slowly grind on his softened cock. You start to worry for just a moment that you won’t come but Austin sits up just enough with you still on him to nip at the other side of your neck before moving right back to his bite and taking just one more sip. Your cunt pulses around him as you come with a silent shout, your body suddenly acknowledging your mild blood loss and flopping almost immediately onto his body. Austin rolls you just enough off of him so that he can look at you from the side. His hand goes up to your hair and down to your still mildly bleeding neck.

“I’m going to take care of that, sweetheart. Won’t even know it was there.” He whispers, placing a light kiss there. “You need to drink some orange juice.”

You hum contentedly, your eyes shutting just a tad. You’re pretty sure Austin didn’t take too much from you, but whatever he did you feel might have worn you out. “A cookie too?”

Austin laughs, pulling out of you and slowly getting up. “A cookie too, since you look like I spilled three blood bags on you.”

It takes a bit of energy to glare but you manage before letting out a tiny giggle. “The sheets are probably worse.”

“They actually look like a Picasso painting, we should frame them!” He shouts as he walks to the kitchen, preparing you a glass of orange juice with a few cookies. When he arrives back, he finds you on your back looking up at the ceiling, seeming more content than you had been in ages. He sits down next to you and forces you to sit up to take a sip of orange juice. “I love you, Y/N, you know that, right?”

“Mmhmm,” You hum as you swallow the juice. “I know and I love you too. It’s why I trust you with my whole life.”

Austin just watches you for a moment and waits until you take a bite of a cookie to place a soft kiss on your lips. “Thank you.”

A tiny smile appears on your face because that’s exactly what you wanted to hear from Austin after this, just a tiny thank you for letting him do this, letting him drink from you. It was your choice, but you think he had forgotten about that for too long. It takes you longer than you’d like to admit to finish the cookies and juice but when you do, you set them on the side of the bed next to you. “So what do you say you run us a bath and we talk about what someone was saying about turning me? And forever.”

Austin flushes and looks down at the ground before looking up at you and biting his lip. “Your wish is my command, baby.”

#austin butler #elvis 2022 #austin butler x reader #austin butler smut #ally writes #i do not know what tags i need to use. i don't do this sort of fic normally.#elvis movie #vampire austin butler #vampire!austin #austin butler imagine

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a-fence · 3 years ago

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I Want More

FWB with Dabin until someone catches feelings (M)

*flashback

It was a quiet evening and you were in the middle of making dinner when the doorbell rang. You weren't expecting anyone tonight and you wondered who might be at your door. You check the intercom to see Dabin standing outside. He was supposed to be on a video shoot but it seems they wrapped up early.

You open the door to let him in and he immediately wraps his arms around you, settling on your bum and pulling you in even closer. The sudden movement caused you to put your hands on his chest. His eyes slowly scan your face, like he's memorizing every detail, then moves his right hand to cup your face, brushing his thumb across your lower lip.

"I miss you. Did you miss me?" he inquired, his voice full of longing.

Of course, you missed him, but you hesitated in answering. You wanted more out of this arrangement but you didn't know if Dabin feels the same.

"I know you do." Dabin kissed you softly and you let him, despite vowing to yourself that this would be the last time, but you just can't help yourself sometimes.

"I made dinner. Are you hungry?" you ask.

"Sure, and I already know what I want for dessert."

As you set up the table, you recount in your head how you ended up in this situation.

A couple of months ago, Dabin reached out to you through your Instagram DM asking to collaborate on new music. At the time, you were an up-and-coming indie producer, and collaborating with Dabin will be a great addition to your portfolio. This collaboration made you really excited because you were also a big fan of Dabin’s.

A meeting was set at the DPR studio where you discussed with the team the theme of the album and the song you were going to specifically work on. The studio was open for you to use but you preferred your home studio as all your instruments are there and you graciously turned down the invite of using their studio, just in case they’ll need it as well for other projects. You linked up with Dabin and exchanged contact info for the project and the two of you agreed on a date on when you’ll work on the song.

As soon as you got home, you got into the groove of making beats. You wanted to have something to present to Dabin for when you started working on the song and maybe edit as you go based on his feedback.

The project was slated to start on the upcoming weekend and the two of you thought that this is only a weekend thing since you’re only working on one song. But the weekend turned into a week as ideas kept on popping and numerous edits and revisions were done to the original beat before you settled on a final version.

During that week, Dabin practically lived in your house, which was fine as you had a spare bedroom where guests could sleep. When the beat was finalized, the two of you celebrated by having drinks and watching a few movies on Netflix.

A few bottles of soju in and you’re both starting to feel tipsy. The space between the two of you on the couch slowly disappeared and you’re almost sitting thigh to thigh with Dabin. You notice him draping his left arm across the backrest of the couch, with his hand dangling and resting on your left shoulder lightly. You ignore it for now and you continue watching the movie.

Later on, you feel Dabin staring at you. It might’ve been the glow of the TV in your darkened living room, or the rom-com the two of you are watching, or the alcohol you’ve been drinking, but the air feels charged as you gaze back at Dabin.

His face is flushed, and he’s looking at you through hooded eyes. He’s searching your face, you don’t know what for, and his gaze settles on your lips, and he licks his lips a little and he closes the distance between your faces. He pauses just when your lips are about to touch, feeling each other's breaths, and by now your heart is racing a mile a minute. He briefly looks you in the eye, silently asking for permission. You kiss him lightly to signify your consent. Dabin cups your face with both hands as he deepens the kiss. He breaks away to pull you across his lap so that you’re straddling him, his hands planted on your thighs and your arms around his neck, and he kisses you again slowly like he's taking his time savoring the lingering taste of soju on your lips. This delicate exploration of your lips sends shivers down your spine. No one's ever kissed you like this before.

Dabin's kisses then become more fervent, sucking and nipping at your lips, his hands squeezing your thighs occasionally. All your movements become instinctive, raking your hands through his hair and down his back, hips grinding on his in response to his actions. His hands leave your thighs and drift onto your stomach, and onto your breasts causing a moan to escape from your lips. This gave Dabin the chance to slip his tongue inside, furthering his exploration. His tongue rolled over yours, massaging it lightly, sending goosebumps across your skin. Your hands find the hem of Dabin's shirt and you pull it over his head, breaking contact briefly. You push Dabin down the backrest and you grabbed this chance to explore his lips, his mouth, the same way he did yours.

Making Dabin moan gave you a different kind of satisfaction, giving you more confidence in your actions, your lips leaving his to trail kisses along his jaw, down his neck, and along his collar bone.

“Damn, y/n,” he breathed. “It’s your turn.” He pulls your shirt over your head, and skillfully unclasps your bra with one hand. He looks at you in awe, eyes full of lust. He runs his hands down your arm and pulls you in once again by your elbows into another kiss, your hands getting lost in his hair once again.

He moves from kissing your lips to your neck, then your chest, leaving a mark in between your breasts before capturing a nipple in his mouth, while he plays with the other with his hand. “Dabin–,” you cried out, arching your back and throwing your head back in response, his movements sending you into throes of ecstasy.

“You like that?” Dabin purred.

“Yes, but I need you inside me,” you whispered, and you stood up, taking Dabin’s hand and dragging him into your bedroom.

What you initially thought was a one-night stand became a regular thing, with Dabin showing up at your door from time to time to hook up. You didn’t mean for it to go on this long, but his pleas of one more time get you to agree before your brain could even stop your mouth.

You thought it over and with Dabin touring, and you swamped with work, hooking up whenever you’re free seemed more logical than an actual relationship, and so you went along with it. That is until you start catching yourself thinking of Dabin during your idle time and you know you’ve caught feelings.

The thing is, you don’t know if he feels the same and you’re torn whether you should confess or just break things off, and you’re mad at yourself for not putting a stop to it early on before things got complicated. So when he showed up at your door tonight, you promised yourself there would be no hooking up unless he feels the same way about you.

You eat dinner with Dabin and thought this is the perfect time to confess but saying it out loud proved to be a harder task. Whenever you would try to confess, you would choke on your food, causing Dabin to throw you worried glances. You gave up eventually and just asked Dabin how his video shoot went. You’ll just have to find another opportunity before he leaves.

After dinner, Dabin helps you clean up by bringing the dishes to the sink, and he even puts the leftovers in containers to place in the fridge as you start washing the dishes. Once the table was cleared and the leftovers were in the fridge, Dabin leaned on the counter waiting for you to finish. You were, however, taking your time, and he was getting bored.

Dabin moves to stand behind you and kisses the crown of your head, his hands resting on your hips. Your body leans into his despite your brain’s protestations. Then he starts to trail kisses along your neck and his hands lift your shirt, letting them roam free underneath. You weren’t wearing a bra and the goods are his for the taking. You almost drop a plate when he squeezed a breast. “Dabin!” you chastised.

He paused what he was doing. “I’ll do the dishes later, babe.” Then proceeds to suck on the exposed skin of your neck and shoulder, leaving purple bruises behind while his hand drifts towards the waistband of your shorts, slipping in to feel the wetness of your core. You grip the edge of the sink to hold yourself together.

“You better do the dishes before you leave,” and you let Dabin pull you towards your bedroom, mentally scolding yourself for what you’re about to do.

The following morning, you wake up alone in bed, and you’re kinda mad at yourself that you let Dabin have his way with you before you were even able to confess your feelings. You felt a bit dejected and you stayed in bed a little longer.

Sleep almost got you again until you feel arms encircling your waist and you breathe in Dabin’s familiar scent. You turn to him, “I thought you already left.”

“What’s wrong?” Dabin asked. Even if your arrangement has only been going on for a few months, Dabin has seen enough of you to know the tell on your face when you’re upset.

“I don’t want to just sleep with you. I want more,” you blurted. It’s now or never.

“We passed ‘just friends’ about 20 fucks ago,” he teased.

Your eyes widen and you slap his chest. What does he mean and how is he able to joke at this point when you just bared your soul to him?

Dabin stroked your head and kissed your forehead, seeing how visibly upset you are. “I’ve been wanting to ask you out for the longest time or at least put a label on what we have. I was going along with this situation because I don’t know how you feel about me. I don’t want to just see you when I’m looking for a release. I need you in my life.”

You nuzzle your face against the crook of his neck, glad that he feels the same. You pull back and you look at him, and you notice he now looks at you with so much love. When did it change from lust to love, you wonder.

“What?” he chuckled, noticing you staring at him with a stupid grin on your face. “I ordered breakfast, and I washed the dishes as promised. Let’s eat?”

“Alright.” You gave him a peck and you stood from where you’re laying, grabbing Dabin’s shirt off the floor and putting it on, and following him towards the kitchen.

Prompt from @deity-prompts, @landhoesnorris

#dpr live #dpr live scenarios #dpr live imagines #dpr scenarios #dpr imagines #dpr smut #borderline smut #hong dabin #hong dabin scenarios #hong dabin imagines #khh scenarios #khh imagines #khh smut #im becoming what i read!!#i hope i make sarah j maas proud #request #💐

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ronearoundblindly · 2 years ago

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…And I’m Wearing Tights

Summary: Steve once revealed a bit of a fetish to you. Tonight, you test it out. (see previous or series)

Warnings: uh…you and Steve being cheeky weirdos and smutty smut (graphic but loving), lightly edited because I is tired. (Minors DNI 18+ ONLY)

It’s not the perfect day or time for this, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned being with Steve Rogers it’s that it’s never the perfect time for anything. You two would never have had a real conversation. You’d never have made it to a first date. You’d never have gotten engaged. Perfect isn’t what you two are, but you do love each other, you are devoted to each other, and that is enough.

Steve’s been pissy--like really pissy,—wildly irritated by something well above your pay grade that he and Stark have been meeting about constantly. You can tell he wants to talk about it, or at very least figure out how to end the waiting game until something is settled. You don’t know when he’ll be back from upstairs. There’s a significant chance he won’t even be coming home before being deployed on a mission, but c’est la vie. They are just clothes. You can take them off and put them away for another time easily.

Gosh, you hope he comes home to see you though. You hope this ends up being as exciting for him as it is for you.

Steve is a very straight-forward man. He doesn’t role-play. He doesn’t think of scenarios. He doesn’t ever imagine he is anyone or anywhere else but him with you. Fine. He doesn’t have to imagine this.

Classic Captain Rogers.

The garter belt is a pale blue. You thought about white, but it felt a little too bridal, and you thought the black might be a little intimidating for him (since it was for you, too). This was the only other option in the store. If you had chickened out buying it right then, it wasn’t gonna happen. You bought the nude stockings two months before, vaguely searching the rest of the ensemble on a few different websites. You’d already pondered—and pondered and pondered—for so long. Now or never. You are strapped in (with everything strapped on) and ready to go.

Personally, you are very grateful that women’s hosiery evolved beyond a seam up the back, but admittedly, the illusion is flattering. Your look now harkens back to the time Steve himself does.

Music. Music will set the mood—your mood—so you bend over to fiddle with the record player. You should choose something he doesn’t always listen to. None of the titles ring too many bells, so you pop song by song down several vinyls and learn some new favorites. You get really into it. Who wouldn’t? You’re feeling sexy, and it was a good choice to keep the pressure low.

You gave him no hints or warnings. If Steve doesn’t come home, no huge loss because now you know that you can deal with a few hours in a thong, a garter, and stockings. You continue to feel yourself and the music with a glass of wine in hand. Why the hell not? It’s not like—

He must have come in quietly while a song rang particularly loud. As you turn around to pick up the record you’re setting aside to try next, Steve stands at the doorway, open-mouthed, eyes fixed on your legs.

But he’s not alone.

Bucky is frozen mid-stride behind him. His face is a tentative mixture of a smile and a very devious thought being poorly suppressed.

You flail to cover yourself, splashing wine over your chest and thigh. Thank god you did not choose the unlined, lace bra…except you are still wearing a thong and probably already mooned both men. The wine was chilled, so you get the wonderful sensation of your nipples pulling taut beneath the soft cushion of a push-up.

Steve’s eyes don’t move at all. “Sweetheart,” he chirps before a swallow rolls thick down his throat.

It’s impossible to contain your nervous giggle which erupts in lieu of shrieking in shock.

Finally, FINALLY, Bucky averts his eyes and begins to back up to the door.

“I’ll just see ya—well, no, not seein’—I’ll just—I’ll talk to ya later, punk.” He runs right into the wall, back first, correcting to grasp the handle on his third try. “What the hell,” you hear Bucky mutter angrily as he rips the exit open just enough to squeeze his bulky body out.

Steve’s…uh…still frozen. He’s short-circuited so bad that he ticks out a hand and says “ok, Buck” a solid ten seconds after his best friend has left the room. His eyes slowly—and you’re talking slow enough to feel objectified—lift back up your body until rosy-cheeked Rogers finds not-quite smooth words.

“Hi.”

Half your lip smiles while the other half twitches. “Hi,” you squeak, opening your arms to show off a reserved stance, knees tucked over each other. You probably should not have waited this long to think of the game plan…or think of maybe wearing a robe until the big reveal. Dang wine and music.

Steve still doesn’t take a step forward, but he straightens up, clears his throat, and remains unblinking as his eyes fall again. “You’re dripping.”

How?

How does Steve manage to sound so dirty while just stating the obvious?

But Steve is hardly there anymore. Something in his blue eyes is gone, off to a world far away as he remains fixated on the slightly darkened mesh of fabric covering very little of you. It’s difficult to describe the look etched on his face. Reverence, maybe? Whatever it is consumes his focus even as you move to grab the hand towel from the kitchen countertop.

Steve mirrors your steps, closing in without moving his gaze. He watches you dab wine off your breast and stomach before reaching out to take the cloth, fingers gentle but firm against yours.

Butterflies take flight in your gut, fueled by what little alcohol you were able to get inside your mouth before emptying the glass which still dangles sticky in your hand. He doesn’t dab you anymore with the towel. Steve simply drops it back onto the countertop, taking the glass and carefully setting it next to the cloth.

This time, his eyes linger on the counter while his finger taps the marble. You’re just standing, waiting for a cue while the record rolls around to the next song. You can’t even listen to the words. It’s probably not the right tone. You can see blue shift towards you. Steve looks at your legs again, and the muscles of his arms tense without moving him an inch.

He takes a sharp breath in through his nose before adjusting face to face. You probably look like a deer in the headlights, but you have no idea what’s going through his mind. Is he furious that Bucky saw you like this? Is he only here to change before rushing off to a mission? Have you just irreparably distracted Captain America from saving the world?

Then this damn thing is well worth the seventy dollars. Fuck it. You don’t even feel shame anymore.

Steve searches your face, brow rapidly scrolling through a dozen emotions that betray how lost he is to his own control, and when he finally breathes out, he’s attacking.

“Shit,” Steve growls just before his lips scald yours, hands broad and roaming, crowding you against the cold steel of the fridge until you gasp. His kiss is quick and needy, head dropping to let him lick the sweet taste of wine off of you. He doesn’t wait for your legs to respond to him. One of his hands grips under your thigh while the other arm encircles your waist and lifts you.

Movement is a blur until your back hits the bed and your body bounces back towards his waiting mouth, this time landing on the delicate clasp across your thigh. There’s wine there too, but you’re fairly certain that’s not what makes Steve moan your name. He is on his knees before you at the foot of the bed. His fingertip brushes over the top seam of the stocking before it curls beneath it. Your leg gets thrown over his shoulder like a prize from a hunt he’s been on. All that pent-up, angry energy leaches out of Steve through the floor as he plants a soft kiss in the indent left on your plump skin from the tight material. He presses his cheek and forehead to the thin shield over sensitive flesh, tilting his gaze up to you propped on your elbows.

“Can I…” He lets out a heavy breath. “Can you leave them on?”

They’re gonna smell like wine forever but sure, bud. You nod with your lip latched between your teeth. Steve breathes deeply again and (since you know he enjoys using all of his senses) listens to your heartbeat through the artery in your thigh. His glassy stare sits forward at the garter and thong while his ear is pressed to you. Then his finger comes up to wrap around the tiny strip of fabric over your folds, his skin just grazing yours.

“Is this a set?” His eyes flick up to yours, expectant.

You were hoping he wouldn’t really notice since the garter sits over half the panty, but not a lot gets past Steve Rogers. You should probably know that by now.

“Ok, so I didn’t want to go overboard and pay another thirty for butt floss but the color seemed close enough and I hate thongs anyway—“

Steve pulls hard, and, rip, there go your underwear. “Good,” he says with the ghost of a smile and bright eyes. He’s not blushing anymore because Steve isn’t embarrassed. He's so polished, hair swept back, button-down pressed and tucked in, sleeves rolled just so. How he manages to be so put together and feel so unraveled is beyond you.

He’s hungry now, and the feast of you is bare before him.

Yeah, you should have prepared yourself to say something, but all language has evaporated from your brain with the heat coursing through you. The heat only grows more consuming when Steve licks a trail from the top edge of stocking up the inside of your thigh. It tickles and makes you shiver when he nuzzles right past the shredded band of thong.

That rat bastard knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s too gentle. His tongue moves lazily around. It is just a huge tease while his hands still grab and pet at the stockings and straps. You’re about to joke for him to put some work into it when he looks up with pleading eyes. Steve can’t voice what he wants, so he sits back on his heels, closes your knees, and pulls at the underside of one. He wants you to turn over.

There’s a lightning bolt crackling down to your core synced with the seriousness of his request. You get a little shaky flipping yourself on the bed, replanting your feet on the floor, and straightening your legs. It puts your ass so high in the air and spreads your cheeks. You can’t meet his eye, but since Steve’s hands immediately trace the full seam from each ankle up, he probably isn’t looking at your face. You're still leaning on your forearms when his mouth finds the back of your thigh again which is great because you would collapse without that support. The attention paid to you is adoring though, so you let him have his fun.

His mouth returns to lave at your clit and dips through your folds, but Steve’s nose gets (in your opinion) dangerously close to your ass. It makes you tense. The record has stopped in the living room. The lights are on. You’re feeling a little overwhelmed even as the back of his finger brushes up and down your calf. Steve senses it but doesn’t say a word. He simply sits back again, lays on the floor beneath you, and nudges you down to your knees.

You look at him questioningly. You’ve never sat on his face before, but he looks eager. Your fiancé wants your body to smother him as he eats you out. It’s so hot and so shockingly…how to describe it? Un-Steve like? No. It’s in his character to dote on you. He thrills in your pleasure. Maybe this should feel like a natural evolution of that? In the midst of your hesitation, Steve begs.

“Please.” It’s desperate and loving all at once, but the sheer care with which he handles you as you sink above him is not only reassuring; you’re entranced. He holds eye contact with you even as he places a light kiss on your knee beside his head.

You don’t mean for your voice to sound so small but your mouth has gone dry. “You sure about this?”

Steve nods his head, making you shiver with the tickle of his hair against your bare skin. He’s supporting some of your weight, hands firm against your hips, but he neither lifts nor pulls you down. He’s Switzerland…but he said please.

“Ok,” you breathe, planting both hands at the edge of the mattress. Of course, you trust Steve with your body. He probably puts more effort into caring for it than you do overall. It’s still a rush of nerves flooding your insides. Luckily, he takes over once you start moving into position.

You sorta get why he wanted this right now in the first place. Steve’s hands tangle in the belt, thumb wrapped around a strap and bunching the lacy hem. Thank goodness it’s all able to stretch or the whole thing would go the way of your thong, and for an instant, you’re sad at how disappointed you know he’d be.

He doesn’t skip a beat or ease into it this time. There’s no teasing, just intense, passionate attention to anywhere that makes you move against him or elicits a sound. The build is steady until one particularly harsh suckle on your clit rockets through you at the speed of light. If you squirted now, you’d have drowned Captain America; the Potomac’s got nothing on this man going down on you.

He keeps you rocking gently until you stop biting the fucking comforter and attempt to rise weakly. You’re practically clawing for leverage on the bed when you hear Steve’s deep chuckle and the sound of his zipper.

Oh, right. He’s still fully clothed.

“One sec, gonna grab a condom.”

“Honey,” you huff out, voice muffled in the sheets, “the whole point of finding the right birth control for me was not having to deal with those.” You sound so fucked already, and Steve’s just asking for permission to begin.

“If you're sure…”

You throw a look over your shoulder as you hear him shuffle off the floor. “Yes.”

He smirks faintly, wiping his palm down his slicked face only to pump himself a few times with you. Waste not. Steve’s a very efficient man. You’re still vibrating from your release, core still aglow with heat, so his swift move to lift your butt and toss you prone on the bed is mind-boggling. His strength, his endurance, his singular focus on you in such intimate moments, it all makes you keen, back arching up while he strips his clothing away. Steve’s body is scorching against you.

“Still ok?” His breath caresses your ear.

Your yes is far more of a moan this time since you’re sensing him writhe to get in place behind you. He runs a broad palm over the baby blue satin and lace across the small of your back and traces his hands down the seams again, all the while saying you’re beautiful. He slowly enters you, pumping just enough each time to force your cum to lubricate his way.

And then you feel one of the straps come loose, probably from the strain of stretching all the way across your purposefully protruding posterior. The force stings your skin. A groan rattles the air above you, a coarse finger pad rolling over the damaged site.

Rational Steve is lost to you. He’s a humping, thrusting mess of muscle pinning you down. He grabs one of your ankles and lifts the leg out and around. It doesn’t strain you; the new angle allows him deeper. Your back curls down to point up into him as best it can under the weight. It’s as if every noise he makes is directed at you, intended to prove how good he feels inside you.

After he releases your leg, his free hand roams to grab you all over: hip, waist, breast, shoulder, back of your neck, hair. His balls slap against your barely exposed clit. On instinct—because even though he does feel amazing this way, you can’t get enough friction to come—you reach an arm under yourself to rub. Instead, Steve’s noises fuel a more devious approach, and you add a bit of grip to his sack. Steve whines and presses himself against your hips so hard you both collapse while you keep massaging.

“Honey,” he pants, “so close.”

You’re honestly here to ruin his brain at this point, doesn’t even matter if you climax again, so you slap your own ass in front of him and tell him to come for you. Write that down. He likes that. He actually mutters ‘fuck’ to that. Steve winds his fingers beneath the nearest (attached) garter strap, grinding hard against you until utterly spent.

It’s oddly satisfying to know that you did not come again exclusively because your show worked so well. Steve completely disappeared into his own excitement, his own pleasure, for once, and somehow the pride that stirs in you is more potent than any orgasm. Fuck yeah, you did that.

He’s even still propped on an arm atop you, tracing the edges of satin all over. He whispers about how gorgeous you are, how soft, how sexy, how much he loves to touch you; it’s probably the most Steve has ever said immediately after sex. He’s almost possessed, giddy, or high on experiencing his actual fantasy made manifest. Even while his breathing returns to normal, his energy hums around you. He cleans you up, rolls you over and into his arms, and settles beside you with a treasuring gaze.

Your whole body feels warm and aches just a little, in just the right way. His hand rests on your hip. He rubs his thumb back and forth on your faintly sweaty skin.

“I’ll be better next time,” Steve says shyly, “prepared.” It’s fucking adorable. He blushes again while his eyes dart to the pale blue bra and belt. He nibbles on his lip and quietly—very quietly—adds, “did…does that come in other colors?”

Steady, Steve Rogers. You’re going to spoil this man…

"So," you drawl sleepily, "which one of us got texted the most eggplant emojis from Bucky?"

Steve cocks an eyebrow. "What do I get if I'm right?"

Yes. I know I'm supposed to be working on two longer stories involving you two, but damn it, this just would not leave me alone. So HERE, take the smut and enjoy. More to come soon! Masterlist here.

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

Please let me know if you want to be added (or removed) from taglist!

#steve rogers fic #fluff and feels #fluff and romance #steve x reader #fools rush in #steve x you #steve rogers #fanfic #series #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut

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thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

Text

Power Couple

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Humor

Summary: Sean, Felix, Dave, and Joel welcome Corpse’s girlfriend to a game of Party Animals. It’s her first time playing and she has to deal with a lot more than just the controls and objectives - her boyfriend being a cute, cuddly sweetheart with ulterior motives to his clinginess.

Requested by @susceptible-but-siriusexual. Thank you so much for your request! Hope I captured what you wanted and how you wanted. Feel free to send any other requests you may have XOXO

It’s been one hell of a day. Had to correct twice as many documents as I was originally supposed to at work; found my car with a flat tire in the parking lot as I was about to go home; argued with my boss over the phone while stuck in a traffic jam. It’s been a rough twelve hours, but it has led me here and that’s what I’d rather think about.

By ‘here’ I mean I’m sitting on the couch in Corpse’s recording room, my computer in my lap, my screen displaying the screen to the game Party Animals. The suggestion was Corpse’s. He immediately picked up on my below par mood and wasted no time finding a solution to bright up the remainder of the day, shadowing the shitty portion of it. I am not what you would call a gamer. Sure I’ve played Among Us with Corpse and his friends a few times. Even that I struggle to do because I’m internally fangirling over all the people in the lobby. Yeah, dating a youtuber doesn’t mean you automatically stop gushing over the many content creators on the platform you’ve been watching for quite some time now. Corpse knows how nervous I get so he’s always near me when we play with Sean, Felix and the other. All he has to do is give me that encouraging smile and wink of his and I’m good to go. Side note: massive props to him for going easy on me in Among Us, getting teasingly called ‘simp’ by his friends in the process.

“You’ll love it.“ He promised me over and over again as the game was downloading on my computer.

“I don’t doubt that, Corpse. But I am going in completely blind and I seriously don’t wanna embarrass myself.“ I mumble a quick ‘nor you‘ under my breath, hoping he doesn’t catch it because I’m in for a pep talk if he does.

To my dismay, he does, “Listen here, you couldn’t embarrass me even if you actively tried to do something outrageous. Most likely scenario, I’d join you in the act.” He ducks in front of the couch so we’re at eye level, his hand coming up to cup my cheek in the sweetest, most comforting gesture ever. “We’ll show em who’s the boss at stealing candy.”

I can’t help but laugh, feeling unable to express just how much this man means to me. Words can’t do the feeling justice.

“Y/N!“

“Y/N!!“

“Corpse Wife has arrived!“

Hearing all the greetings lights a flame in my chest, the warmth spreading all the way to my neck and cheeks. “Hi guys! Missed playing with you!”

“We missed you too!“ Dave, the only one of the gaming gang I’ve actually met in person, replies to me, his words along with all the others’ wrapping around me like a comfort blanket. Despite them knowing I’m a fan of theirs, they’ve always made me feel welcomed, comfortable, nothing less than them.

“You know anything about this game?“ Felix asks me.

I shake my head, almost forgetting he can’t see me, “Corpse told me it’s funny and cute. It sounds like the perfect game for me.”

“Oh no, this is a game of survival. Survival of the fittest!“ Sean shouts excitedly, a bang following his shout I can only assume was him hitting his desk.

“I’d like to think I’m pretty fit.“ I shrug my shoulders, laughing along with the guys.

“This is the only way to find out if you actually are.“ Joel’s voice comes through my headphones in the form of a tease.

Sean mumbles quietly to himself as he’s deciding how to separate us in two teams. “Guys, a little help here. We all suck at this game, it doesn’t really matter who’s in which team.”

“Actually...“ Felix trails off, “Corpse and Y/N are the ultimate power couple in Among Us. Chances are they will be in this as well. So, the only logical move would be to...“

“I’m taking Y/N, you take Corpse.“ Sean declares. “Joel, Dave, who do you guys wanna be with?“

And the game starts. Sean, Joel and I are the Meowfia while Corpse, Felix and Dave are yet to choose a team name. We throw around snarky, cocky comments at each other, taunting the opposite team as we struggle to take the candy to our respective sides of the map.

“Don’t you dare pull that lever, Dave!“ I launch at Dave, knocking his cute avatar away from the lever, buying Joel and Sean some time to steal back the gummy bear Corpse and Felix took from us.

“Y/N! Joel is out! Help me!“ Sean is freaking out now. I ditch Dave’s unconscious body and run to Sean’s aid.

As I’m helping him push it towards out area a member from the opposite team latches onto my avatar, weighing me down and hindering me from doing anything.

“Hug!“ Corpse laughs as he has literally turned into a koala, holding onto my avatar.

“Corpse, you know you are actually supposed to hinder Y/N, not hug her. It’s cute though, don’t get me wrong.“ Felix laughs as him and Sean continue to struggle over the gummy bear.

“Nah, his tactic’s great. I can’t do shit.“ I desperately try and shake him off, “Babe, this is unfair. I can’t even be mad at you!“ I whine, staring to panic now that Dave is back to life and Joel is nowhere to be seen.

The round is won by Felix, Dave and Corpse who, if I might add, didn’t let go of me for the rest of the game.

We switch maps, now every man for himself. We’re on the submarine, recreating the Hunger Games with cute fuzzy animals. The thought passes through my mind, causing me to giggle.

“Y/N, you sound exactly like I’d imagine your avatar to sound. You’re so cute.“ Sean’s avatar circles mine a few times as he laughs.

He’s not wrong, my pale blue puppy is indeed cute. Apparently immortal as well.

“How is Y/N still alive?! Holy shit, her and Corpse really are a power couple.“ Dave shrieks when he sees me pick up the freeze gun. “NOOO!“ He shouts, devastated by the fact I shot him, sending him straight to his death.

“Chill, Dave. It’s all cool. Nothing personal.“ I struggle to hide my laughter, “No hard feelings, right?“

“Of course not, love.“ I can tell he grits the sentence through clenched teeth.

“Aw Dave, you are such an ice guy.“ I giggle, now shooting Joel with the gun.

“Someone take that gun from her!“ Sean cries as him and Felix race up the submarine.

Suddenly, the avatar of my boyfriend again wraps itself around mine. I hadn’t seen him in a while, considering Sean knocked him into the ocean earlier in the round.

“How are you still alive?!“ I try to spin my puppy to get him to let go but he holds on tightly. “Babe, I swear, you are cute and I love you, but this is ridiculous. How and why are you alive?”

“That’s his superpower! He never fucking dies.“ Felix laughs, letting out a yelp when he briefly slips while climbing.

“Immortals!!! Immortals!!!“ Sean breaks out into a song, a song I really like, breaking the restraints I had on my laughter.

“Drop the gun or we’re dying together.“ He says almost seriously. Even though I can only see the back of his head I know he’s grinning.

“A Titanic/Romeo and Juliet mashup? Why not? I can live with dying a double historical death.“ Even though I appear accepting of his offer, I’m still trying to set myself free.

In the end, Sean claims his first win of the game and the rest of us are dead at the bottom of the ocean. Corpse and I did indeed die a Romeo and Juliet/Titanic death, getting everyone in their feels. We make a deal to get together and play again as soon as possible and we all go our separate ways, exiting the Discord call.

*Later that night*

After a dinner consisting of takeout and two thirds of a shitty romantic comedies, Corpse shifts from next to me, starting to get up from the couch. I am surprised to feel jolted out of a half sleep as the room is now completely silent, the TV being turned off.

“Hey where’re you going?“ I ask groggily, rubbing my sleepy eyes.

“I have some editing to do. Don’t worry, I won’t stay up too late.“ He kisses my forehead before grabbing his phone from the coffee table.

Just as he’s about to walk away, I wrap my arms around his legs. He laughs, catching onto what I’m insinuating. His chuckle brings a smile to my face and butterflies in my belly. No matter how long we date for or how much time we spend together, some things never change.

“Payback, huh?“ He asks, the smile audible in the question. I keep my eyes shut but nod, my arms still around his legs. “Alright, you koala. You’re coming with me.”

In his recording room, he settles in his chair placing me in his lap in a way that my legs dangling off to the side, my side leaning against his chest, my face hidden in the crook of his neck. We’re both comfortable, content and relaxed.

I don’t know when exactly it happens, but all my mind has registered is a quiet ‘I love you’ and the soft touch of Corpse’s lips on my temple. I manage to reply with an ‘I love you too’ before my sleepiness consumes me, my body completely relaxing against his, the warmth of his body, his scent, the sound of his breathing making me feel safe and loved: the two feelings I want him to feel with the same intensity when I’m in his arms.

Something tells me he does.

@simonsbluee @save-the-sky @hacker-ghost @itsminniekat @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help

#corpse #corpsehusband #corpse husband #husband #corpse fanfiction #corpse fanfic #corpse husband fluff #corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband fanfiction #corpse x reader #x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband x reader #reader #requests open #request #fluff #love #romance

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fific7 · 3 years ago

Text

Cold as Ice - Part 5

Billy Russo x Reader

A/N: Based on the song by Foreigner, but a really chill female singer/acoustic version of it I heard on my travels and which I now can’t find anywhere 😒

Summary: Set in my Punisher S1 AU, it does not follow canon. Billy Russo has one cold little heart, and you find this out to your cost. But will Fate allow you to turn the tables on him? Angsty, zesty 🍋 and fluff mixture.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, including unprotected, between consenting adults* in some chapters. Drinking and swearing.

*Irl, please use protection, let’s be careful out there.

(My photo edit)

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Cold as ice, I know (you're as cold as ice)

Yes, I know

(You're as cold as ice) You're as cold as ice

Cold as ice, I know (you're as cold as ice)

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Five minutes later she shut off her phone, and looked over at you, “Well… I think you may be right after all. He’s texted Frank, saying he’s taking a few days off as he’s not feeling well.”

“Mmmhmm,” you mused, “thought he might.” “Why did you think that?” she queried. “Well… I mentioned counselling and therapy several times…. I think he might’ve actually taken some notice of what I was saying, contrary to outward appearances.” She gave you a sceptical look, “You think?” You nodded, “I do. It kinda ties in with his note too… ‘I guarantee that by then you will have changed your mind about ‘feeling comfortable around me’. I reckon he means he’ll have had some counselling by then.”

“Or he’s planning on kidnapping you again,” she grimly warned you. “Honestly… I think he’s finished with all that now. He got his one-to-one chat time with me,” you shrugged.

“I really hope you’re right,” she said, giving you a concerned look.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Things went back to normal for the rest of that week. Work was work, relaxing in the evenings, trying not to think too much about Billy and his issues. You met up with Karen and some of your other workmates on Thursday for a quick drink, and one of the guys offered to take you to dinner the next night. It wasn’t a date - he had a girlfriend who travelled a lot for work however you’d always got on well with him in the office - so you thought ‘what the hell’ and said yes to him.

Strolling to the subway with Karen after leaving the bar, you mentioned your dinner plans for the next night to her and she stopped walking, hand on your arm. “Is that wise?” she asked, and of course you knew what she was getting at. “Look, I haven’t seen hide nor hair of Mr Russo all week,” you reassured her, “he’s given up all that stalker shit.” She began walking again, “Well, as long as you’re sure,” she replied, “but you text me when you get home, girl.” You smiled, “Course I will. And it’ll be fine, honestly.”

The next evening when you got home from dinner with your workmate, having spent a pleasant evening chatting and gossiping about work stuff with him, you texted her… “I’m home, Mom! 😂😘” and she replied that she was really glad to hear it.

You got changed and went to bed, falling very quickly into a dreamless sleep.

Something was tickling your face and as you became aware of it, half-awake, you flicked your hand at whatever it was. Then your brain kicked in, oh! it wasn’t a spider, was it?! Your eyes flew open. You weren’t a full-on arachnaphobe but you certainly didn’t like it if they dropped in unannounced onto your face or hands or whatever.

Instead, in the dim light you saw dark eyes staring down at you and you gave a small shriek.

“Ssssh, angel,” said Billy, “it’s just lil old me.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

“What’re you doing here?!?” you yelled at him. “Just makin’ sure my girlfriend’s behavin’ herself,” he replied, continuing to run a fingertip up and down your cheek. So that was your ‘spider’. “For fuck’s sake! Were you following me again?!” He grinned, “Sure was, baby girl. Have been all week.” “But I….” Now he laughed, “Never saw me, yup I know. Meet the sniper Billy Russo, invisible in the shadows.” Your stomach lurched, he’d followed you all week?!

“Now you know why I’m so good at my job,” he bragged, “I’m a specialist in all things covert. You saw me the first time round cos I meant you to.” Now he moved over on top of you and that’s when you realised he was already naked. “No, Billy,” you protested, trying to shove him off you but yeah, you were no match for the ex-Marine. He stripped off your t-shirt and shorts, and then proceeded to spend the next hour fucking you in just about every way possible, and kissing you until you could barely breathe.

He stood up off the bed when he’d finally finished and pulled his tracksuit bottoms and hoodie back on, watching you watching him as he did, huge smirk in place. “That was just another little reminder of who you belong to, sweetheart.” He prodded his chest several times with one of those long slim index fingers of his, “Me. Billy Russo! The only guy who can give you all those orgasms and make you squeal so loud.” You eyerolled and just lay there, saying nothing. Now the smirk was sly, “You’re wonderin’ how I got in here, aren’t ya?” he asked you. You got back under the covers, reaching over for a tissue from the box on the bedside table and admitting, “Yes… okay, yeah I am.”

You began running the tissue over your inner thighs and then across the lower part of your face - Billy had been a very busy boy over the past hour or so. You screwed up the tissue and threw it into the bin while he stood waiting until you were looking at him again. He pulled out some keys from the front pocket of his hoodie, dangling them in the air in front of you. “Got copies,” he grinned, as your eyes widened. “When did you get those made?!” you demanded and saw self-satisfaction appear on his face. “While you were out for the count in the warehouse. Thought they might come in handy an’ I was right.”

Now he leant down and touched his forehead to yours, eyes staring at you intently, “Saw you out with that guy tonight.” Your heart sped up, waiting for him to freak. But his voice remained low, “Didn’t pick up any vibes except friendzone, am I right?” You nodded, still a bit fearful of an outburst but he stood up, still calm, “That’s what I thought. Just as well.” He leant down again, kissing you hard on the mouth before adding matter-of-factly, “For him. Cos if he’d kissed you, I’d’ve killed him.” He grinned evilly, “Would’ve snapped the fucker’s neck,” his hands making a snapping motion, “just as easy as that.” You continued to stare at him, a chill in your veins.

He turned away towards the door, wishing you goodnight over his shoulder as he went.

You heard the front door close and he was gone.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Letting out the breath you hadn’t realised you were holding, your first thought was how grateful you were that you and your workmate hadn’t even exchanged so much as an air kiss.

You really needed to keep in mind that Billy was a trained killer. Without doubt, he could and probably would have done what he’d said he would to your workmate.

His equilibrium seemed to be slightly more on a level, so that was a good sign right? No pacing or yelling or mood swings in evidence tonight. So yeah, maybe he really was talking to someone about his behaviour.

You lay awake, staring up at the ceiling, mind busy. He obviously wasn’t completely over his issues - entering your apartment uninvited in the middle of the night for a prolonged sex session was still way out there - and you told yourself there was no way you could mention this to Karen. She’d be dialling 911 before you’d finished speaking. And for some unknown reason, you wanted Billy to get ahold of himself and stop all this nonsense without involving law enforcement. Why was that? Did you - deep down - want to get back with him? When Billy said he was rescuing you from boring guys and mediocre sex… maybe you agreed?

You laughed to yourself, who were you kidding? Of course you agreed with him! You’d found yourself comparing the guys you’d recently dated to him every time. But you definitely couldn’t handle Billy while he was in crazy mode so you’d better put those dangerous thoughts out of your head right this minute.

Turning over on your side, you hoped your turbulent mind would settle down and let you sleep.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

On Saturday, you met up with Karen and Frank for lunch although any mention of Billy was off the menu as far as you were concerned. Frank had stolen a couple of quick, meaningful glances at you to begin with but you ignored these and chattered on regardless, and an easy conversation was soon in full flow between the three of you. However you did notice Karen looking at your neck a few times, and when Frank went to the men’s room she pulled aside your collar before you could stop her.

“What’s that?!” she crowed, eyes fastened on your neck, “It’s a love bite, isn’t it!” Oh shit, you thought, I forgot to cover that with concealer. You felt your face heating up, “No it isn’t!” you denied, grinning back at her, “I scratched my neck with my nail.” She looked extremely sceptical, “That sounds like a very lame excuse to me! You and ….?” You vigorously shook your head, “God, no!… he’s a nice guy and all that and we had a nice meal last night but apart from the fact that he’s got a girlfriend, he just doesn’t do it for me.”

She sat back, regarding you with suspicion and a knowing smile. “Billy’s been around again, hasn’t he?” You just knew your face was flaming by now… a curse on Karen and her investigative reporter tendencies! However you only had time to nod sheepishly before Frank returned to the table and Karen mouthed, “Later!” at you. You really weren’t looking forward to that little chat.

Karen told Frank that you and she were going shopping, and as she’d anticipated he made himself scarce rather than spend time trailing around boutiques in your wake. However, Karen had taken a firm grip on your arm and steered you back to your place. Once back, sitting on the sofa and with a G&T each, she fixed you with a steely glare and demanded, “Spill, girl!”

With a big sigh, you launched into the tale of Billy’s night incursion into your apartment although you skipped over the full details of exactly what he’d got up to once he was in your bed. She sat back after you’d finished speaking, laying her head back on the sofa cushion. “I need to get you a pepper spray.” Then her head came up, “Now you won’t like what I’m about to say, but just listen, okay?” You nodded obediently. She began, “You’re really enjoying the sex, aren’t you?” You opened your mouth to reply but she held up a hand, “No, listen. I do understand. From the little you told me, you and Billy had a very… shall we say… active sex life and suddenly that was gone when he pulled his little restaurant stunt.”

You stayed silent, and she continued, “So now with all this recent …” she waved her hand around, “drama… the good sex is back and you are liking that. You don’t report Billy for kidnapping you and I bet you wouldn’t have mentioned last night to me if I hadn’t noticed that little calling card of his on your neck.” You felt your face heating up again, she really knew how to read you! “So you’re protecting him!” she pronounced. She leant forward, investigative reporter hat firmly in place and levelled a finger at you, “You wanna get back with him!”

“I… I…” you stuttered, before eventually saying, “oh I don’t know, Karen! I guess I just can’t shut off my feelings for him like I thought I could. But I do know one thing… if he doesn’t get himself sorted out and quickly, I can’t be with him.” She nodded, “I get that, I really do. But how on earth could you ever trust him again after his recent behaviour, seriously, how could you?” You shrugged, “That’s the billion dollar question, isn’t it? I don’t know, I truly don’t.” “He says he loves you. Do you love him?”

You heaved a sigh, “I suppose I do. More fool me.”

Karen had gone shortly afterwards, telling you to be careful and to get your locks changed. You made a mental note to call a locksmith on Monday, you weren’t going to pay an extortionate weekend charge when you were sure Billy wouldn’t be back. You felt like last night’s visit had just been a demonstration to you that he could reach you whenever he wanted, to let you know that he was still watching you, and that had been enough for him.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

A few days later…. you’d got your locks changed and were back to the usual work/eat/sleep routine. Things were thankfully quiet, and although you weren’t 100% sure if you were still under surveillance by your sniper ex or not, you were pleased to hear from Frank (via Karen of course) that Billy was back at Anvil and busy as a little bee. Or big bee, you should really say.

Frank had also told Karen that he seemed really “chilled”. Well, that was also good news as far as you were concerned. A chilled-out Billy was a way better prospect to deal with than the mercurial mood swings he’d displayed earlier.

On your way up to your apartment after work Friday evening, you were staring - zoned out as usual - at the inside of the elevator when it stopped at a lower floor than yours. The doors swung open and a huge Billy Russo grin greeted you.

“Hi, angel,” he sang into your surprised face, “I’ll just hop in an’ then we’re goin’ for a little ride.” Casually dressed in a jumper and jeans, he fished a key out of his jeans pocket and put it into a lock on the control panel, turned it, then pressed “R” for roof. This was normally a level which no-one except building management or maintenance staff could reach. How the hell had he got hold of this key?

“Billy… what are you up to now?” you said, more calmly than you felt. Well so much for ‘chilled-out Billy’, you thought. He ticked a finger back and forth into your face, “Naughty girl!” he admonished you, “Changin’ your locks like that! Did ya really think that would stop me?” The elevator reached the very top floor and now he inserted the key into another lock and turned it. The red ‘Maintenance’ light came on, taking it out of service.

“They’ll notice that,” you said, “at the concierge desk. They’ll know there’s no maintenance being carried out.” He smirked, “No-one’s monitoring the elevators right now…. shift changeover.” He put the key in his pocket and turned to you with a lazy smile, “Takes them ages to get someone back on duty at the desk.” A bigger smirk, “Talked to the head concierge the other day, said I was thinkin’ about offering security services through Anvil. He was really helpful. Took an impression of his key right under his nose.” He took hold of your arms and turned you to face the wall of the elevator, so you could guess what was in store for you. “Tried to visit ya last night but your little stunt with your locks temporarily delayed things.” His body pressed up against your back and he slid your skirt up your legs until he was able to pull your panties down, you heard him unzip and then you felt him between your thighs - god, he always felt so big and hard. You didn’t even bother telling him to stop. Because you knew he wouldn’t.

What you did say was, “What about the CCTV in here?” A deep chuckle, “There ain’t any, angel.” Oh. You’d been so sure there was, in fact wasn’t there a notice in all the elevators telling everyone that…? Billy read your mind. Another chuckle, “Lyin’ to make you folks feel better.” As he was saying this he pushed fully inside you, forcing a moan from between your lips. “Mmhmm angel, wet already… such a good girl,” a self-satisfied whisper next to your ear. His fingers moved your hair aside and his lips were on your neck, kissing and nipping, then you felt him rub the bristles of his beard along your skin before placing more kisses there. A hand slid up under your top and your bra was pushed up, he ran his palms over your nipples and you tried to ignore the thrills that gave you. One hand went back under your jaw and he turned your face to his, his mouth was on yours and he kissed you for a long, long moment, his hips gently rocking against you all the while.

Why oh why did he have to be so damn good at this?! your mind screamed, as you felt yourself completely giving in to the sheer pleasure washing over you, solely due to the very little he was actually doing to you. Now however, Billy was about to step up to his A game, pulling your hips right back against his and his thrusts now became powerful and fast. He was whispering things to you. You couldn’t hear everything he said - your mind was elsewhere, let’s be honest - but you did hear a few ‘love ya’s’ in there somewhere. His lips would be on your neck one minute and then he’d grab your chin, twisting your head to his so he could kiss you hungrily on the mouth. His fingers would go to your nipples and then his big hands would massage your breasts, but his pace never faltered in the slightest.

You heard his low groans begin to get louder and more frequent and you knew he was about to climax. His hand went between your legs, making sure you orgasmed just after he did. That was one thing you had to give Billy credit for, he was never selfish - you both had to be satisfied. His head drooped onto your shoulder, “You make me insane, angel,” you heard him whisper, then he kissed you - very gently, on the lips. “I know I said I wouldn’t contact you for a while but I need this. I need you.” You paused momentarily before saying, “Are you talking to someone, Billy? About all of this?”

He stepped away from you, and you turned just in time to see him tucking himself back into his pants and zipping up. You began to repair the chaos Billy had wreaked on your clothing; pulling your bra back down into place and having to ignore all the moisture below decks, sliding your panties back up and smoothing your skirt down. He didn’t meet your eyes, looking sulky, “Yeah.” “Who? A proper counsellor?” Again, “Yeah.” You tried to make sure your hair didn’t look like you’d been on a rollercoaster. “I’m glad. You really need to get your head sorted out.” Now his head came up and his eyes were burning into yours, “I know!!!” he yelled, then making an obvious effort to regulate his tone, “I know I do. It’s happenin’, okay?”

You nodded, “Okay, Billy.”

He turned the key and took it out before placing it into the second lock, pressing the number for your floor. When you reached it, he followed you out of the elevator and hustled into your apartment behind you, locking the door. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” you asked him, irritated. He shook his head, “Nah. Gonna spend some more quality time with you, baby girl.” He took your elbow and guided you to your bedroom. “Oh come on, Billy… really?” “Yeah…. really.” He began to undress you, and you stood there and let him. You didn’t really have a choice in the matter. Once you were naked, he steered you towards the bed and got you to lie down.

He stood next to the bed, just looking down at you, before - a small smile on his face - he unzipped again. “Now… where were we, angel?” he asked you.

Somehow you had the feeling it was going to be a long, long night.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Sitting on your sofa on Saturday afternoon in your bathrobe with a cup of tea in hand, you found yourself shifting about and trying to get comfortable. You were aching in places you didn’t even know existed in your body.

Billy had left a short while ago. He’d been on you all night and after a short respite while you both slept, again for most of the morning. Where did he get his stamina from? You blamed his time in the Marines for that, it had to have something to do with it. Maybe he’d also resorted to taking Viagra? - but you wouldn’t mention that little theory to him. He just seemed to get erection after erection, as your extremely tender pussy could attest to. Went down on you or made you blow him in between. Put you into a range of different and quite frankly gymnastic positions, and basically just fucked you senseless. Your brain felt like someone had wrapped it in loft insulation - soft and squishy and almost non-functional.

As he’d been leaving, he’d leant down and kissed you before flashing some putty-like substance at you, turning it back and forth so you could see the shapes of keys pressed into it. So he’d obviously been into your bag while you slept, found your keys and taken these impressions. You’d sighed in defeat, and he’d smiled in victory. No way were you going to shell out for another new set of locks.

There was a low rap on your front door. Oh no… surely not? You cautiously looked through your spy hole and saw to your relief but somewhat to your surprise, Curtis Hoyle. You opened the door and after hugs and Hi’s invited him in. You hadn’t seen him in ages! You made him some tea too and after a little catch-up chat, he cut to the chase.

“I’m counselling Billy right now,” he divulged, “and while of course I can’t get into exactly what he’s discussed with me, I’m concerned enough to want to have a chat with you too. Are you okay with that?” He smiled at you, “I won’t be counselling you, just to be clear and it will all be off the record.” You nodded, “Yeah, that’s fine,” smiling back but unable to stop a small moue of pain crossing your face as you reached over to place your teacup on the coffee table. Curtis glanced over at you, “Hope you don’t mind me askin’, but has Billy been here recently?” You gave him a brief nod, and he continued, “And I know this is a delicate matter but… did he ask you for sex?” You laughed, “Yes.. only he didn’t ask.”

Curtis looked troubled, “Oh, shit Russo!” he said, as if Billy were in the room too. You shrugged, “It’s okay, Curtis. He’s not in his right mind at the moment and only for that reason, I’m prepared to cut him a bit of slack.” Curtis took a sip of his tea, “He said he ‘kept you with him’ for a day or so, just to talk to you, but he wouldn’t say too much about it. How did he manage that exactly - if you feel like telling me?” You sat back slightly, and sighed. “Okay… don’t be too shocked, now. He grabbed me off the street one Friday night, knocked me out with some kind of anaesthetic and then I was in an old derelict warehouse for the rest of the night and early morning. Then he took me to his place, kept me there till Saturday evening, drugged me and dropped me home.”

Curtis looked appalled, and sat quiet for a while before finally saying, “And I take it sex was involved?” You nodded, “Yeah…. a lot of it.” “Without giving away too much of what he’s said, I can tell you that having sex with you is really important to him right now.” “Yup, I’d kinda sussed that out!” you laughed, “I think it’s his way of possessing and controlling me. Did he tell you he’d broken up with me?” Curtis looked over at you quickly, “No… he didn’t! What happened?” So you explained the whole sorry tale of The Restaurant Stunt to him, and Curtis began to look progressively more enlightened.

“Okay, I’m seeing a bit more clearly now where all this is stemming from. What about you? Do you still have feelings for him?” Somewhat sheepishly, you nodded, “I don’t really want to, if I’m honest with you but you can’t just switch your feelings off like a tap.” “That’s very true, “he agreed, “so tell me… has he just been here? I’m kinda getting that vibe. Once he dropped you back at your place after your ‘talk’, what’s been happening since?” You recounted the two visits - skimming over the exact details- you’d so far had from Billy, seeing Curtis look more and more uncomfortable. You carried on, “Look… Curtis. I’m not ashamed to admit I’ve always really enjoyed sex with Billy… he’s a tiger in bed…” Curtis’ face pinked up, “…so while he’s been less than gentlemanly during these visits in how he’s gone about getting it, it’s been as pleasurable as it’s always been - if a lot more intense. I can’t let him carry the can for this entirely.”

Curtis stood up, ready to leave, “Well… okay. But if you ever decide you want to report him…” You also stood, giving him a hug, “Thanks, Curtis. But I’ve willingly taken the decision not to. Apart from anything, he made sure there was no evidence. Or only ambiguous evidence. As long as he’s getting some counselling, I’m happy to leave him in your capable hands.” Curtis chuckled, “Billy always was a sneaky bastard. No wonder he was such a good sniper.” “Yeah, for sure,” you agreed.

He paused in the doorway before he stepped out into the corridor, “I’ll make sure he gets well, if it’s the last thing I do.” “Well, I sincerely hope it isn’t the last thing you do! - but thanks again, Curtis.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d been peacefully sleeping during the early hours of Sunday morning, when the loud click of your bedroom door awoke you.

He climbed into bed next to you, already naked, divesting you of your sleepwear and kissing you until you couldn’t breathe. His hands began a journey over every inch of your skin and he pressed his body against yours, so you’d feel how aroused he was. “Ready for me, angel?” he breathed in your ear, before sliding fully inside you.

“Billy… you’ve got to stop doing this!” you protested. “Uh-uh,” you heard, “can’t you see I’m obsessed with ya? Can’t think of nuthin’ else. Just you. All day, all night. So I gotta be with you, can’t stay away.” His hands and mouth were all over you as he moved forcefully above you.

You sighed… another long, long night, then.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Sunday had been a carbon copy of Saturday, you and your aching body lazing on your sofa for the whole day. Billy had left at lunchtime - after having been laid out on your bed, stretched right out like a big satisfied cat - but you’d at least extracted a promise from him not to ‘visit’ tonight, seeing as how you had work the next day.

Life was peaceful again without any nocturnal visits from Billy - until Thursday of that week. Curtis had called you in the evening, sounding really worried. “Billy didn’t turn up for his session with me this evenin’ and I just found a voicemail from him, sayin’ he didn’t think he’d ever get his head back on straight, so he’d never get you back an’… an’.. that meant he couldn’t go on….”

Your stomach dropped, “Oh shit!” you said, “What’re we going to do?” “Me, Frank and Karen are gonna go look for him. Wanna come along?” You grabbed your bag, “Yes! Can you pick me up?”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23 @omgrachwrites @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @ourloveisforthelovely @swthxrry @odetostep @supernaturalcat7 @obscurilicious @strawb3rrydr3ss @bruxa0007 @aleksanderwh0r3 @bat-luna-cat @carlywhomever @paracosmenthusiast @dankfarrikdin @restingbitchblog @hummelmi @all-art-is-quite-useless @my-day6 @ladyblacky @shawty-writes-a-little @intothesoul @tnrthings @profoundme444

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

#ben barnes #billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #the punisher 💀

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heyyyharry · 3 years ago

Text

Happier

(inspired by happier by Olivia Rodrigo)

Word count: 2.4k

I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

Part 1: Drivers License

Part 2: Deja Vu

A/N: I edited the original lyrics to match the POV :)

Harry had come up with a thousand scenarios of how this day would play out. Actually, he’d been thinking of this day since the moment he’d received the news. He didn’t dare to hope that she’d say yes to coming back for a sequel. He’d been sure that they would write her character off, give a lame excuse for how his love interest could not make a return and make his character forget about her completely to move on with a new girl in town. It would have been great if it was that easy in real life. Once someone was written off the script, they were gone for good. Real-life relationships were not that simple. Goodbye didn’t mean ‘never see you again’. You would still share the same friend circle and social bubbles, and it was worse when you two worked in the same industry. Harry didn’t know how he’d lasted a year without running into her, not since the Grammys.

“Didn’t you two date?”

“No.” Harry shook his head, but his eyes stayed glued on Y/N from across the room. She wasn’t looking his way, too busy saying hello to everyone else. “No,” he repeated, more to himself than to his co-star. “We didn’t.”

“But she wrote an entire album about you,” said the other twin. What was her name again? Lulu?

“Luna!” cried her sister, Lex. “You can’t ask him that!”

“No, it’s okay,” Harry said with a tight smile, slightly annoyed by the blonde twins, but he didn’t want to seem like an ass on the first day of filming. “And I don’t know if it was for me. You should ask Y/N.”

“Ask me what?”

Harry flinched when he looked up and saw Y/N padding towards them. She hugged the twins, who seemed way too excited. Harry guessed they were Y/N’s fans. They gave off crazy fangirl vibes, probably just pretending not to know the drama to interrogate him. He couldn’t blame them for assuming he was the villain and definitely could not blame Y/N for portraying him as one. It was more important that he knew who he was and how much he had changed since his last relationship. Maybe they could finally be friends.

“Were they bothering you?” Y/N asked him once the twins had left.

Harry nodded. “They’re your friends?”

“Oh, I met them last year on tour. I’m surprised you don’t know them. They were on Disney.”

“I don’t watch Disney,” Harry admitted with a smile. “Well, not today’s Disney.”

“Understandable.” Y/N nodded and bit her lip. She seemed guarded with her straight back and hands hidden behind her. She eyed him up and down, quite subtle yet noticeable. “How have you been?”

“Pretty good,” he said, nodding slowly. “You?”

“Yeah, but mostly tired because of tour.”

“You’re done?”

“Yup, last night was the last show.”

“Nice.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Nice?”

Harry blinked. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No.” Y/N giggled. “You still sound very...you.”

“Well, shouldn’t I?”

“Yeah, you should. But it’s been a year so…I mean, you haven’t changed much.”

“Right,” he said lowly, his eyes falling to his feet. Harry supposed he should say something else, perhaps bringing up another random topic to discuss, but all he could think about was what had happened between them. Things had been messy, hadn’t they? How could they go back to before that? Before her first song about him. Before he’d chosen someone else over her.

Or he could talk about her new relationship. She’d been in a happy relationship for almost six months, right? No wait, hadn’t they broke up two weeks ago? He wasn’t sure because he hadn’t been catching up. If they’d broken up, he’d sound like an ass to even mention her ex’s name. He should just stay quiet.

“I’ll see you later?” she said, gesturing at her stylist who was waiting by the door.

Harry could ask her right now -- the reason she’d agreed to film the sequel to their first movie together. He’d heard from a very reliable source that she’d specifically asked her agent to decline any project that he was in. So did this mean they were good? That she didn’t hate him anymore? He could have gathered his courage and got the answer right then…

“Yeah, see you.”

...but he didn’t.

And so she gave him a smile and a little wave, then happily returned to her stylist.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N!”

“See you, Annie!” Y/N said as she put the rest of her things into her tote bag. Her new driver had got her schedule mixed up, and so she had to wait here for another half an hour. She was in no rush. It had been a light first day, and she’d had a fun time getting to know the new cast members and catching up with old friends.

She sat on the sofa in the lobby, legs crossed, texting her best friend about her day. She’d purposely left out the short off-screen conversation with Harry, and her best friend didn’t even bother to ask. In their world, he didn’t exist, and his name was censored in every conversation like a curse word that was even worse than ‘cunt’. Nevertheless, she didn’t hate him anymore. She was doing just fine on her own, being busy with her career, and she’d been in a happy relationship after her fall out with him.

She and the guy, a model, had broken up two weeks ago due to long distance and some differences that they could not change. They had ended on good terms and decided to stay friends. They said you could only stay friends with your ex when you still had feelings for each other, or you had never loved each other that much in the first place. For her, it was probably the latter. Her previous relationship had been more platonic than romantic, apparently. So she had nothing but the best to say about him.

As she was going through her camera roll, just reminiscing about the past, she heard footsteps approaching and looked up to find Harry. He offered a smile and gestured to the spot beside her on the sofa. “May I sit here? My ride is late.”

“Yeah, sure.” She hurriedly scooted over.

“Good job today,” he said. “You were great.”

“Thanks, so were you.” She smiled, and they both looked away at the same time. This was so awkward. She hated small talk. She’d never had to have small talk with Harry. Conversations with him used to be so easy and natural and silly. Whatever this was, it wasn’t them.

“Can we just be normal?”

At first, Y/N thought she’d been the one who’d said it, so when she realised it’d been Harry, she was speechless.

He swallowed and sat a bit straighter, still not looking at her. “I don’t want us to be weird and awkward.”

“Okay,” she said.

He cleared his throat. “Wanna try again?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, not to sound like an ass but when Joey kept forgetting his lines, I was so pissed off, I could throw a chair at the wall.”

“Right?!” exclaimed Y/N, feeling free to have finally broken out of her shell. “Like, he doesn’t even have many lines. I know he’s new but damn...you can’t get far if you don’t learn your goddamn lines.”

Harry shook with laughter. “Oh God, we sound like dicks, don’t we?”

“Maybe.” Y/N laughed, covering her mouth. “But you know what? We can’t be nice in this industry. It’s impossible.”

“Shhh, if someone heard this, we would be into big trouble.”

“Oh please, I’ve had worse articles written about me than ‘Y/N speaks facts about her lazy co-star’.”

Harry tossed his head back and cackled. “The worst one I’ve got this week was ‘Harry Styles hates therapists.’”

“What?!” Y/N gasped. “No way! That’s so stupid!”

“Right?” Harry rolled his eyes. “I could get all my therapists to speak up for me but I’m kinda immune to bullshit now.”

“Therapists? Like plural?”

“Yeah, one in every city.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.”

Y/N rubbed her hands onto her legs. “Rough year?”

Harry’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he leaned back. “You have no idea.” Then he swept his hair out of his eyes, sucked in a breath, and finally looked at her. “I wish I could have talked to you, though.”

She bit her tongue, knowing what she was about to say next would disappoint her best friend so much, but she had to. “So do I.”

Harry looked taken aback before his lips curled into a smile. “It’s silly, isn’t it? I haven’t talked to you in a year, and I feel like I know everything that’s happened to you except that I don’t.”

What he’d just said might make no sense for most people, but Y/N knew exactly what he meant. She nodded and wetted her lip. “You only know as much as everyone else does.”

“Yeah, I got updates on you from the news and our friends.”

“Same.” Y/N smiled back. “I hate how they write articles about your new haircut but not mine.”

“I like your new hair colour.”

“Thanks. I like your new car.”

Then they both burst out laughing. It was fun and also a little bit strange that Y/N didn’t feel the same anxiety talking to him as she used to. It must be because they had grown and were now meeting again as better people.

“Damn, my ride's here,” Y/N said as she read the text from her driver. “I gotta go now.”

“Oh, okay.” Harry stood up and followed Y/N to the entrance. “Hey, just wondering--”

“Yeah?”

“Am I...am I still blocked?” He looked a bit flustered as she tilted her head and squinted her eyes. “On your phone. Because I remember you having my number blocked--”

“I unblocked you on your birthday.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah.” Y/N shrugged. “I should’ve sent you a happy birthday text but...I didn’t want your girlfriend to get the wrong ideas.”

“My ex.”

“Yeah, I know.”

They smiled at each other one last time before saying goodbye. Y/N knew it was silly, but she was hoping he would go after her.

Ding.

A notification popped up when she was in the car. She was almost home, and it was from Harry’s number. He’d sent her a link with a message that said, “Hope you like it :)”.

Curious, she tapped on it and was directed to an audio file titled ‘Track 5’. The upload date was last year. About two weeks after their short conversation at the Grammys.

Hurriedly, she fumbled inside her bag for her iPods and put it on before she pressed play.

“Hey, Jeff, I couldn’t sleep so I wrote this song. Listen and let me know if it should go on the album.”

Then came the piano intro. It sounded good, so Y/N wondered how it hadn’t ended up on his last album.

But when he started to sing...

We ended a while ago Your friends are mine, you know, I know You've moved on, found someone new One more guy who brings out the better in you

And I thought my heart was detached From all the sunlight of our past But he’s so nice, he’s so funny Does he mean you forgot about me?

Oh, I hope you're happy But not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

And does he tell you you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen? An eternal love bullshit he might not even mean Remember when you were with me I meant it when you heard it first from me

And now I'm pickin' him apart Like cuttin' him down will make you miss my wretched heart But he’s charming, he looks kind He probably gives you butterflies

I hope you're happy But not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better

I hope you're happy I wish you all the best, really Say you love him, baby Just not like you loved me And think of me fondly when your hands are on him I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

The song was for her. He’d written it when her new relationship had gone public. Y/N sat there, staring blankly ahead until the honking of a car tore open her inner peace, and reality came crashing back in. The driver dropped her off at her house. Instead of going inside, she stood on her front steps and replayed the song one more time. When it ended, she decided to text him: Why didn’t this make it to the album?

She didn’t know where he was now, but it showed ‘typing’ in less than a second, as if he’d been waiting in their chat since he’d sent that link.

You would’ve hated me, Y/N.

True, she replied. Still, I would’ve loved the song lowkey. And added, I love it btw.

He took so long to type that it was driving her crazy. She flopped down on the concrete stair with her phone clutched in her hands, her heart thundering against her ribcage. Anxiety popped like a balloon when his message appeared: Were you happier?

She reread it again and again.

No.

I wasn’t either, he responded. I kept getting deja vu.

Ha, nice reference.

That song is my guilty pleasure. Love listening to you roasting me on loop.

That last message made Y/N bury her face into her palm and giggle like a fool. She thought for a second and wrote: I could come roast you in person now if that’s what you prefer. I think we’ve never had a proper roasting.

Can we meet, Y/N? Or are you busy now?

No, not busy.

Great, I’ll pick you up.

Just tell me where, she responded with a smile on her face. I got my drivers license now :)

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic

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husbandohunter · 4 years ago

Text

Stardew Impact [Genshin+Stardew Valley/xReader]

Part 1/3 Kaeya, Diluc

Synopsis: “A mysterious phenomenon brought you and your s/o to an unfamiliar world: Pelican Town! Without the power of Visions, the two of you begin to learn the life of what it takes to be...a farmer?”

(DOMESTIC FARM LIFE YIP YIP)

Coming soon...

Albedo and Childe

Zhongli and Xiao

(A/N): So the brainrot was real in this one. I planned to add Albedo for a Mondstadt edition but kinda went overboard so I gotta split this one into parts too. Wordcount_almost 2k spspspsp

______________________________________________________

Diluc

• Already has the whole year planned in his head. Literally if Diluc were to play this game, he'd have a booming farm within year ONE. Calm and collected through and through, though the new environment raises alot of questions, as long as you were still with him, Diluc ain't complaining

• The town welcomes you two with open arms. It was all thanks to the attire. Diluc wore his usual dark coat adorned with regal gold while you had a dress made of Liyue's finest silk, one that he bought for you. Needless to stay both of you reeked the aura of rich aristocrats (Mayor Lewis is pleased that greedy bastard)

• Once the farm was permitted to your owndership, Diluc began to think of ways to turn it into a vineyard. He was a businessman afterall. Although the staff back at the Dawn Winery were the ones who tended the field, Diluc still knew a few things about planting due to his childhood days Master Crepus would bring him out to their yard and demonstrated the process of gardening. He still remembers those days clearly, doing the very same this moment with you.

• Occasionally works at the Saloon bar. It was the perfect opportunity. As you took care of the farm side, Diluc continues to look for more ways to increase the income while gathering information from the folks around town. Gus LOVES to have him over, like he's just so efficient and reliable! They soon become good friends saying if Diluc were ever to own a wine stock, he would gladly buy from him.

• This is why Diluc would stay a little later due to just chatting with the people from the bar. One time you walked into the Saloon only to the front desk with Emily alone. Turns out the others were in the other room, too busy playing a game of pool. You decided to leave him be since it was rare to have Diluc so relaxed in leisure activities. Thus in the end, you spent your time chatting with Emily until a whole hour has passed before your lover notices and apologizes for losing track of time.

• Everything felt like a dream because it was his dream. To live a life undisturbed from chaos, his duties and the dangers that lurk in Teyvat, Diluc grew fond of the domesticity. There was nothing he loved more than to spend his hours by your side, day after day, returning home to your freshly handmade meals.

• Spring: Already up and early planting the parnersnips (I'm very soft for gardener Diluc you see). What do you expect from a workaholic? Even during his leisure time you would often find him near some plant as he does consider this hobby quite therapeutic. But when it rains, Diluc would be standing beside you with an arm around your shoulder, smiling contently as you lean into his touch. He gazes through the dripping window and silently admires the current progress you both made on the farm.

• Between the two annual spring festivities, I would say the flower dance. Diluc is a private man and would prefer to take things where no eyes were on sight. But with a little bit of nudging from Gus (your wingman), he gives in and leads you to the center stage. Elegant. Graceful. The way you two moved together became the talk of the event. Though, Diluc was already used to people staring by now, all he needed to do was to ignore them and keep his focus on you.

• Summer: No blankets in bed. Nope, its bloody hot in Pelican Town. He tends to stay indoors or anywhere with shade, in other words, his work hours in the Saloon increased.

• Diluc always has a nice cold drink prepared for you if by any chance you were to pay a visit after a whole day of labour. It's a habit he's made subconciously as if it would be a natural occurance for you to enter the door. His colleagues would ask him who did he make that drink for? Honestly so cute i cri

• Moments like these remind him of Mondstadt, where he quietly wipes the glasses while listening to you talk. Your voice is soothing. Sun rays peek from the side casting onto the umber tables, reflecting a rich golden light as the radio plays a soft song in the background. It's so peaceful, the town was small hence not many people visited the bar, Diluc came to appreciate this warm privacy (plus no Venti and Kaeya which is a huge pog realization).

• Autumn: Harvest time baby. The kegs are full and the sheds are full of kegs. This season was huge stonks and the house ended up getting an upgrade. Diluc is the type of man who wants to make sure that his spouse wouldn't have to work another day of her life. I reckon this is why he's so ambitious because he wants you to have the best and you deserve the best. (Husband material. Slap a ring on him ladies).

When there was no more work left to do, time would be spend peacefully exploring the woods. While you skipped a few steps ahead as the leaves crunched beneath your feets, Diluc follows slowly from behind. He sees your back but his eyes stares somewhere far beyond whats in front of him: His future.

It was such a stark contrast to the one he envisioned before. One filled with uncertaintly, blocked by darkness with no silver lining in sight, endlessly wandering as he drags the claymore against the ground. There was never a day in which the Darknight hero wouldn't think of Mondstadt. Leaving the city in the incompetent hands of Ordo Favonious while Abyss Mages continue to lurk fuels him to find a way to return as soon as possible and yet...

"Higher big sis!" Jas tightens her hold on the ropes as you pushed the swing with all your might. She laughs, like a child, it was full of innocence and joy. Later Vincent came in and nugdes you, asking when his turn will come.

"You wanna go too? Alright alright don't worry," waiting for Jas to come down, you lift the boy up so that he was seated safely on the chair, "3..2..1 go!"

He wonders if he could just be a little selfish for once.

• Winter: Best man to have in this season. Every morning Diluc would find himself restricted in movements due to a pair of arms around his waist and legs entangled with yours. Turns out you've been doing it subconciously because he's just so warm (Diluc keeps it lowkey and pretends to sleep longer cuz of it)

~~xx~~

Kaeya

• Haha looks like the portal is gone, guess we'll be stuck forever :)). No kidding Kaeya would be so down to stay here for the rest of his life and the best part is to spend it with you. He doesn't show a shred of concern regarding Teyvat, not like he's easily shaken by events that are abnormal, but you can see that Kaeya is truly and genuinely happy. (You're stunned).

• Oho we also have this marvelous landscape just for the two of us? And a cozy little cabin to go along with it as well? This should be fun~

• Of course Kaeya would also know a few things about planting, just the basics since he did grow up with Diluc. When they were kids, Crepus would give each of them their own pots so they can grow their own plants. It eventually became a competitive thing where whoever's plant grows the fastest gets to eat the other person's dessert for a year (no one wins. They end up sabotaging each other which Diluc started first, thinking it'll be funny as a joke).

• You are, and will be going on dates with him. In fact, the amount of dates you two went on increased since then. The townspeople would call you two "lovebirds" since he's practically by your side 24/7.

• I mean he doesn't have the responsibilities as a Cavalry Captain anymore so what else is there to do?

• Would attend all annual events no matter what season.

• Evelyn constantly gushes how much of a wonderful pair you and Kaeya make and often is the one who provides Kaeya a fresh bouqet of flowers for him to use as a gift. George on the otherhand just rolled his eyes mumbling something along the lines of "youngsters these days" and "crazy hormones."

• Befriends Pam. Love for beer plus somewhat cynical attitude? They get along real swell! She starts sending some recipes into the mailbox of course saying if yall ever need a hand, let her know.

• Spring: I can see Kaeya be switching back and forth between caring for the farm or taking quests posted on Pierre's bulletin board. He likes to keep things interesting, learning the ways of the new world while also getting to know the people around town.

• Would NOT return Mayor Lewis' shorts in which he found in Marnie's room. It's such high quality blackmail material. Kaeya is currently plotting what is the best way to use it to his advantage.

• He didn't tell you of course.

• Summer: There are no blankets because he is your blanket. Since your cabin was small so was the bed. That's why he has to hold you so that no one falls off when rolling over. Either he hugs you with your nose close to his neck, or your back against his chest while spooning you or holding hands if sleeping on your sides became too much. Yall need a serious house upgrade.

• For some reason Kaeya becomes more energetic in the summer. He lets you rest in the shade while handling the farm work for the time being. If you guys got a pet it would be a cat. Hes the first one to refill their bowl every morning outside.

Another day passes as summer comes to an end, the town’s Mayor invited you and your lover to see the annual Dance Of the Moonlight Jellies. Kaeya being the opportunist was delighted to come along. Locking the door of your house, you follow him down the path and made your way to the beach.

Everyone from town was already gathered by the docks when the sun had disappeared down the horizon. You stood by his side in a space far from the others, watching the candle boats set off to ride the waves, lighting up a small ray of light for creatures to find.

“Wow,” your tone almost above a whisper, “If only our friends back home could see this too.”

“Perhaps,” he says. Kaeya slips his fingers into yours and you shot him a curious glance, “But let us enjoy this moment shall we? Just the two of us.”

And there they were. A sea of luminescence radiating colours of brilliant blue with hints of green like a city of laterns floating in a world below. Their image reflects in the star of Kaeya's eyes as he wonders, where would they go? Where would the light lead them? They were so free with nothing to worry, so serene just like the sea and unknowningly, he squeezes your hand. It was a sense for confirmation. One to remind him that this moment was indeed a reality he wishes to keep.

Autumn: Finally a house upgrade and a kitchen!! Because it was harvest season, you guys end up making a set of delicious meals with all the recipes the townspeople gave you. Kaeya can cook since he lived by himself back in Mondstadt. Most of the stuff he learned to make were food that can be accompanied by alcohol though...

• Ahah remember Mayor Lewis' lucky shorts? He found a use for them. It was displayed on the stands during the Stardew Valley Fair (Oh my how did this get here? Must be the wind). Ends up buying a Rarecrow for the farm when Lewis bribes him not to tell this to anyone.

Winter: This was mostly an indoor season for the both of you. With the existence of television, nights would be spent until morning while watching movies at the couch. A blanket drapes around your shoulders as extends to his. Oh and don't forget the hot chocolate!

#genshin impact #stardew valley #genshin impact headcanons #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #Kaeya #kaeya alberich #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #nya-writes #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines

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