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distantdarlings · 5 months ago

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OUT OF IT // t. nott

RATING: R / 4.4K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* Theodore Nott has been your best friend for years, but the closeness that you’ve gained throughout your friendship proves to be a little too intimate for the two of you to handle.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! PIV - no protection, fingering, light nipple play (f!receiving), dirty talk, tension, top!Theo, bottom!Reader, fem reader, language, super NOT proofread (lmk if I missed anything!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Again (Sped Up) - Noah Cyrus

(Okay! So prep for this was super rushed bc I am about to go on vacation and just got done with a ton of work. I’m very sorry this is so quick and frazzled—hopefully you all can look past it. Thanks for your patience.)

- - -

The dimly-lit corridors always felt so cozy around this time of the evening. The skies outside were pitch black and the only form of light was the flickering, honeyed candles mounted to the stone walls every few paces or so. A rather clever spell had been cast on them to keep them from dripping wax all over the floors.

You combed your fingers through your hair, letting the strands slide across your skin. Keeping your hair pinned up always gave you just a bit of a headache, but being able to take it down after classes was a relief like no other. Your fingernails scratched lightly over your scalp in an attempt to reestablish some blood flow throughout.

After a particularly difficult day, you wanted nothing more than to eat a quick dinner and then crash into your bed. You felt as if you’d been going non-stop since waking up this morning with nothing but a bagel and some tea in your stomach for the whole day. You were sure if you spoke to a muggle physician, they’d have some choice words for you. You could practically feel the dark circle sprouting beneath your eyes.

You turned one final candle-adorned hallway before arriving in front of the Great Hall. You arrived on the later side of the allotted dinner times, but you knew the food would stay on the table until the last student who intended to eat arrived. That was part of Hogwart’s lovely charm.

A wave of warmth from the fireplace in the corner washed over you like a blanket. The sudden temperature change brought on a case of chills across your body. A small shudder flowed through you.

Your eyes scanned the table on the far end of the room—its dark wooden surface topped with deep green runners and dishes of food. Sitting alongside the farthest end of the table were the most familiar faces in the entire school. A gentle smile appeared across your lips at the sight of your friends chatting and laughing together.

You approached the table with the same smile painted on. As you drew closer and caught a few eyes, you raised your hand for a polite wave. All of a sudden, you were a bit more awake than you had been.

A set of bright eyes turned and locked with yours, prompting a jolt of energy through your chest. You settled in next to the owner of those special eyes, allowing him to wrap his arm around you and pull you in close.

“How are you, tesoro?” Theo asked, pressing a small kiss to the side of your head.

“It was good. What about you?” you asked. He shrugged and flashed you a smile. He’d never been one to talk much about his day.

You gathered some food onto your plate, Theo never taking his arm from around you even when he went back to eating.

“So, how was everyone’s day?” Enzo asked cheekily, eyeing the two of you. The young man in front of you had always had a deep insistence that you and Theodore Nott would be the perfect couple.

“You’re perfect for each other,” he would say. “You compliment each other so well, plus you’re already so comfortable around each other!” To which, you’d always laugh and shake your head, only mostly ignoring the fantasies that would twirl through your mind after the fact.

You were not going to date Theodore Nott. He was your best friend—had been for years.

“Fine, thanks,” you replied snarkily, popping some kind of berry into your mouth. It crunched between your teeth pleasantly, bleeding dark, sweet juice. It was unlike any other fruits you’d ever tasted, but you never knew what you were going to taste at Hogwarts.

“Mm, you’ve got a bit of—” Theo started. Still chewing on a bit of food, he ran the thumb of his free hand over the corner of your lip and promptly placed it against his tongue. He sucked the flavor off of his skin, then turned back to his dinner.

It didn’t much bother you, just ignited a bit of heat against the wall of your gut. Mattheo and Enzo, however, acted like they’d just seen someone hurl into the dinner bowls.

“Hello, friends!”

The group turned to face Pansy Parkinson. A dainty, but lean girl with striking black hair cut across her cheeks in sharp, even lines. She was truly one of your only female friends, considering how often you hung around a male party.

“Hey, Pans!” The group chorused, offering lazy waves and full-mouthed smiles. She smiled a bit and took a seat next to Enzo. She selected an apple from the bowl just before her and took a large chunk out of it, her pale eyes flicking around the table.

“Why are you all so quiet?” she mumbled around chunks of apple.

Enzo snuck his arm down beneath the table and discreetly bumped Pansy’s ribs with his elbow twice. They were sure you hadn’t seen their little gesture that translated to ‘I’ll fill you in later,’ but you most definitely had.

You struggled not to roll your eyes as you knew they’d gossip for hours about how you and Theo would be the perfect couple. Honestly, it used to bother you a bit, knowing your friends were talking about you behind your back. But with a quick and direct questioning of Enzo, you realized that they weren’t so much gossiping about you as they were rooting for you. Their support didn’t matter, though. You would not be dating Theodore Nott.

***

That night, as you had begun to settle in for bed, you found yourself thinking of Theo. You always thought of him around bed time. There was never really a time when your best friend wasn’t floating around your head, but at night, when you were recapping your day, you thought of him.

Theo had a nasty habit of popping into your head at the worst of times. During tests, holidays with your families, your dreams, and even when you…when you would get into bed and slide the velvet drapes hung around the frame shut, and let your hands slide beneath the covers.

You swallowed thickly at the thought. You would not be dating Theodore Nott. No matter if he did cross your mind when you touched yourself. You inhaled shakily and slid beneath the covers, ignoring the ache in your chest and the pulsing between your legs.

***

The next morning, you found yourself wandering down to the Great Hall just as you had done the night before for dinner.

And just like last night, Pansy, Enzo, Mattheo, and Theo were waiting for you just like they always were.

You slid into the space beside Theo and laid a sleepy head against his shoulder, letting a slightly dramatic huff out.

“Oh dear, looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” Theo teased, placing a kiss to the top of your head. The audience members before you each made a different face at the show of affection. It never bothered you and it had seemingly never bothers Theo, but your friends had a habit of turning it into something it didn’t need to be.

“Yes, I did,” you sighed. “I barely slept a wink last night—I was tossing and turning all night.” Which was not a lie, but a bit of an understatement. Your sleep had been plagued with visions of Theo.

Theo looking at you, Theo kissing you, Theo touching you, Theo Theo Theo. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Theo looked down at you. You met his eyes.

��Is everything alright?” he asked.

“Yes, why?”

“You’re clenching my arm really hard,” he chuckled, glancing down at your clutched fist around his arm. Oh. You quickly let go of him and apologized, embarrassed that he was having such a physical effect on you. You’d never been so distracted before. Sure, you’d had these thoughts of Theo before but it had never affected you in your everyday life, and certainly not in front of him.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Enzo interrupted. You turned and the three sitting across from you all seemed to be staring with concern.

“You seem out of it…,” Mattheo said, looking you up and down. Pansy voiced a small agreement.

“I’m fine,” you chuckled nervously. Theo placed a hand on your back and began to rub comforting circles around the center of your spine.

His touch against you was almost too much to bear.

You shied away from him and, forcing a smile, you got to your feet and quickly excused yourself. You knew if you looked back, all of them would still be staring at you but you needed to get away. Theo’s hand on your back was nearly enough to make you come undone.

These altered feelings of him had your mind running haywire.

You scurried off down the halls, twisting and turning, and avoiding any and everyone. The Slytherin dungeons weren’t that far from the Great Hall, but every step you took made the hallway feel as if it was elongating. It felt as though you would never reach it and as if you’d be walking for the rest of eternity, when you came upon the secret entrance.

You mumbled the password then slipped through the doorway.

Other than a few scattered students, there was practically no one in the common room. Hopefully you’d be able to get a bit of privacy upstairs in your bedroom.

Thoughts of Theo swirled around your head, threatening to fall in on you and drown you in your own desire. You had no idea why he was having such an effect on you.

Once you came upon the door to your dorm, you pushed through the door, slammed it quickly behind you, and collapsed onto your bed. A quick survey of the room told you that it was empty, except for your panting body.

You set yourself against your pillows, drawing your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. If you kept having such an issue, you were just going to have to avoid your friends for the next few days.

You refused to let any silly thoughts get in the way of your friendship with Theo. You’d had plenty of intrusive thoughts pertaining to him in the past. That didn’t mean you were in love with him or had any feelings for him other than platonic. People had weird thoughts about their friends all of the time—it didn’t make them true.

A knock on the door drove its way through your train of thought. A small jolt ran through your body at the sudden sound.

Assuming it was just one of your roommates, you invited them in. But one of your roommates did not walk through the door. Theo did.

Upon seeing him, you shot up to a sitting position almost immediately.

“Theo—I didn’t know it was you, I’d really like to be alone right now if—”

“That’s fine. I’ll leave as soon as you tell me what’s wrong.”

His eyes were stern with his jaw clenched tightly, the muscle running across the bone rippling with every grind of his teeth. If you didn’t know this boy like the back of your hand, you might’ve mistook his concern for fury.

“Nothing’s wrong. Like I said, I’m just tired.”

“There’s something else,” he spoke. “I can tell. I’ve known you for nearly as long as I’ve been alive. Do you seriously think I can’t tell when something’s bothering you? You brushed away my hand, you—you barely looked at me earlier. You’ve never, ever turned me away like that—and if you decide you’re done with me, w-with us—that’s fine, but I deserve an explanation.” He stepped forward and left nothing but a few inches between the two of you. “I demand one.”

His ramble ended with deep, heaving breaths, his eyes staring down at you with longing and panic, and your saliva nearly getting caught in your throat. If you hadn’t closed your mouth that had been gaping open, you might’ve choked.

He stood so closely, you could feel his breaths on your chest. You attempted to avoid his eyes but it was as if he’d locked you to him. You couldn’t pull away.

“Theo, I’m not…done with you,” you exhaled shakily, “I always want you.”

His eyes softened a bit.

“Er, to be here with me as my friend!” you gasped out quickly, trying to ease the landing of the borderline confession you’d just spouted out.

His mouth dropped a bit as he seemed almost disappointed. Surely he didn’t feel the same way.

“What if I want to be here with you…but as more than just a friend,” he whispered. His deep voice rumbled beneath the pressure of his chapped lips. You couldn’t help but glance down at them briefly.

Once you had, his breath hitched in his throat just a bit, and you knew he’d seen you. You knew he’d seen your eyes dart from his deep, crystalline eyes to his barely parted lips. His tongue swiped over his bottom lip, just enough to grant them some hydration from how deeply the two of you had been breathing. A shudder passed through you at the sight.

“What’s…more than a friend?” you breathed, your voice wavering as you found it increasingly harder to pull your eyes away from his lips.

What a stupid thing to ask.

“I want to show you what it is,” he said. “I want you to feel what more than a friend is.”

You almost jumped out of your skin when the tips of his fingers brushed against your forearm. He seemed to be testing the waters and, though your reaction wasn’t exactly calm, must have decided that it was okay to move forward again. The fingers from the opposite hand brushed alongside your other arm.

“Let me show you what it feels like,” he whispered.

“I don’t want to lose anything we have because of one stupid mistake—because we couldn’t control ourselves,” you said, biting your lip nervously. You knew it was a cruel thing to say but it was the truth. Theo was the best thing that had ever happened to you, even before you couldn’t escape the feeling of his eyes on you.

“I won’t let anything change us,” he said. “Let me give you all of me before you decide you need some of me.”

Shakily, you pressed your lips together and nodded slowly. You were all his.

He smiled just a bit, a shaking breath pushing through his lips as if he’d been holding it for a while.

His hands were slow and patient, carefully mapping out every place he intended to touch and ensuring that it was completely okay with you before doing so.

Fingers traced over your hips and across your ribs through your uniform shirt. Even through the material, you felt his simulated touch eliciting chills across your stomach and arms. He smirked a bit at the way the small hairs there stood up.

“Can I touch your skin?” he asked, his eyes finding yours. You nodded in response.

At your immediate consent, he took no time in easing the hem of your shirt out from beneath your skirt. The tucked-in material had created indentations along your flesh from pressing into it all day. His fingers traced along the swirls of marks across your hips.

His hot skin on yours was nearly too much to handle—you swore you felt your knees buckle.

After the initial shyness of skin-on-skin, you could feel Theo’s hands splay wide on either side of your hips and move across your abdomen and all the way to the back. His fingers brushed across the strap of your bra just as a raging heat split your stomach in two.

“Can I?” he asked. Of course, you nodded.

With a second set of permissions, he felt even bolder. He sucked in a strong breath and, with quick and intense movements, brought his hands out from beneath your shirt and began to unfasten the buttons.

With each button he pulled open, he placed a hot kiss to the skin revealed. Your breaths came in deep heaves, your chest lurching towards him pathetically.

His tongue brushed over the cleavage split evenly by the pressure of your bra. With your chest nearly completely revealed to him, Theo’s eyes darkened severely.

His eyes found yours again. The two of you regained consciousness for only a moment to realize where you were and what you were doing, before you clasped your hands around his head and pulled his mouth to yours.

With a fiery desire, he slipped his hands beneath your thighs and, with subtle clumsiness, lifted you off the floor just enough to push you up against the stone wall in the corner.

A shy moan slipped from between your lips at the feeling of your body trapped in between him and the wall.

His lips devoured yours like a man starved. He drank up every drop of saliva granted by each slide of your tongue along his, never wasting a single bit. His hands gripped at you mercilessly—at your hips, your chest, your ass. It wasn’t long before your shirt was completely unbuttoned and slid messily down your shoulders and your shoes slipped off and kicked somewhere into the corner.

As the two of you took a moment to breath, noses pressed to each other and breaths intermingling, Theo contemplated his next moves.

“I want to take care of you,” he heaved, a bead of sweat sliding down his sharply detailed throat.

“Please… have me as you will,” you whined, hardly able to stand being away from him in these few seconds.

The sounds of your begging did nothing but urge him forward, cutting through every strap of restraint he may have still had. He fucking loved it.

“Let me make you feel good,” he whispered.

He slid his finger down across your neck, tightening his grip just barely around your throat, then sliding them down across your breasts. He kneaded the sore tissue there, reveling in the way your lips parted at the feeling.

His fingers slid over the metal clasp that sat squarely between your breasts, shining in the firelight, waiting for him to separate it.

Before touching your chest any further, he wrapped his hands around your thighs once more and wrapped them around his waist, balancing you against the wall behind you.

His fingers then returned to their post at your bra and effortlessly split the clasp. The pressure of your breasts popped the fabric apart, quickly revealing your chest to the boy before you.

He moaned at the sight of your gorgeous chest and could not resist from placing his lips around each nipple, swirling his tongue around them perfectly. Your head fell back against the wall, your hands clutching at this hair, your legs wrapped around his body.

“You’re so perfect—gonna make you feel so good,” he mumbled.

His hands and lips reluctantly separated from your chest and pulled you away from the wall for just a moment. He walked you over to the recession in the wall where the windowsill waited for your body weight.

The drapes were pulled together but you imagined that you wouldn’t be so angry if they weren’t.

Theo set you down against the cool stone and slid your hips against him.

With no regard for what you were going to do for your next day of classes, he roughly split your tights to reveal the bottoms beneath.

He let out a moan at the sight of you—you were better than he’d ever imagined.

Flipping your skirt up, he traced a single, trained finger over the slit of fabric covering the most sensitive part of your body. You let out a wavering moan at the sensation, gripping onto his shoulders tightly.

“Please, Theo, no more teasing,” you groaned, sliding your hips closer to his. The motion pressed your core against his, creating a type of friction that was more than delicious. The both of you paused and shuddered against each other’s mouth.

If Theo had any restraint left in his body, it was this that destroyed it.

He slid a finger beneath the material of your bottoms and slid them to the side, revealing you to the cool air. You shuddered a bit at the feeling, not prepared for the sudden change in temperature.

He traced his fingers along your folds again, collecting slicks of moisture along them. You could barely keep up with his pace, not sure whether to moan or cry or beg for more.

Once soaked enough, he slid a finger into you, allowing you to stretch around it. You cried out to the night air, clutching at his shirt like you might slip away from this world if he kept easing you open just as he was.

There were blinks of time where he’d slip another finger in just beside the other, stretching you farther than you’d ever been before, but you could hardly grasp where you were in time and space. All you could feel, think, smell, hear, taste was Theodore Nott.

When years had passed and he’d built you up to your climax twice already, he decided that he was ready to give you all of him.

The layer of sweat across your body and cloud of exhaustion that plagued your mind seemed to be no obstacle for a still very wired Theo. He was ready to fuck himself into you until you were begging for mercy. He’d been waiting for this for years.

“Turn over for me, sweetheart,” he said lovingly, a stark contrast to the brutality with which he’d worked you apart.

Slow-moving from exhaustion but still eager for more of his touch, you forced yourself onto your stomach. Your hands gripped onto the drapes for some sense of purchase—hopefully they wouldn’t collapse down around the two of you, revealing both of your bodies to the world.

When the rustling of his clothing and the clinking of his belt hit your ears, the entire lower half of your body twinged in anticipation. You gasped lowly as his hands slipped beneath your skirt, slowly smoothing his fingers over the fabric of your bottoms before gripping them and sliding them down your legs.

He allowed you to step out of them before he pushed you back up against the stone and slid himself across your entrance. You sucked in a breath sharply at the sensation, your fingers digging into the canvas drapes so tightly they burned white around the knuckles.

One hand gripped your bare hips while the other slowly guided himself into you all the way to the hilt. The slow stretch he had provided you before was nothing compared to the fire burning below now. Your eyes clenched shut, bursts of tears slipping down your cheeks.

“Breathe, bella,” he groaned softly as he allowed you to adjust while refraining from going as fast and as hard as he could.

It took only a moment before you asked him to move, and begged him to claim you fully. And then he was controlling every inch of what you received, ruthlessly, yet lovingly.

The silence of the room was filled with his breathless groans, your stuttering words, and the force of his hips hitting yours. You’d hardly be able to stand if it weren’t for his strong hands holding your hips up, keeping you just where he wanted you for each force of his hips.

With each passing second, you found your grip on the fabric above you becoming weaker and your ability to hold yourself up diminishing. With the pace he’d set, you’d be finishing any minute and he knew it.

And by the way his speed stuttered every so often and his hands gripped onto the fabric of your skirt, you figured he couldn’t be far behind you.

Your naked breasts lightly scraped against the stone with every push from behind, rubbing the sensitive skin just enough to push you over your edge and crash within yourself. You cried out from the force of the pleasure that hit you.

As soon as you had managed to finish against him, the tightening of your muscles tipped him over the cliff side he stood atop, forcing him to the waves below.

He worked himself through his climax before slowing to a stop and collapsing against you. The sweat on your skin mingled together, creating a hot seal between your bodies. You could hardly catch your breath between the windowsill pressed against you and the strong man behind you.

“Theo,” you whined. “Get off…”

He responded with a huff and a moment’s silence, before pushing off of you. Your skin separated with a sticky pull.

He gently pulled you away from the window, slid your messed skirt down and helped you slide into your bed. He slid in next to you for just a moment.

“I think I’m about to pass out and sleep for the next 48 hours,” you chuckled lazily.

“Would you say I gave enough of myself?” he smirked, brushing a strand away from your forehead.

“I’d say it was more than enough,” you said, rolling your eyes at his confidence.

“Well, I’m yours anytime you want me.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, before getting to his feet and beginning to redress.

“No,” you fussed. “Why are you leaving?”

“Because it’s the middle of the day and I’m missing my classes,” he laughed, tightening his belt back to its proper place.

“I am too—just skip with me today,” you begged.

“No, darling, I’ve got to get back to class. I’ve got too many assignments due today. I’ll let them know you won’t be making it in today, though.”

“What are you going to tell them if they ask?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Mm, I’ll let them know that you had a rough morning and you’re gonna sleep it off.”

He smirked meanly before slipping through the dorm door and leaving you in silence, bundled up in your bed and nearly too tired to even try and get ready for classes.

One day off wouldn’t be too big of a deal.

- - -

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#fanfiction #creative writing #fanfic #writing #reader insert #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #oneshot #slytherin #harry potter smut #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott smut #theodore nott #theo nott #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire #pansy parkinson #mattheo riddle

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gallaghersgal · 20 days ago

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THE SPINS, lip gallagher.

c3 of BORDERLINE. lip x bsf!reader (nickname, MK)

character intros; adri & caro

TAGS & WARNINGS → MATURE 18+. mostly angst & hurt/comfort, some fluff. labor & birth mentions (karen), drinking & smoking (🚬+🍃), angry lip, tw for emetophobia; small scene w/ throwing up.

CHAPTER SUMMARY → karen jackson going into labor and stealing your best friend away on new years eve has to be the worst possible outcome of the day. right?

A/N → hi everyone!! thank u sm for keeping up with this little story of mine, i love it dearly!! enjoy the chapter, bc i know something u don't..... mwahahaha 😈

WC → 2.2k

You wait outside the corner store, Chicago winter wind chilling your fingers as you smoke the last cig from the pack of Marlboros Lip left in your car last week. He’s late. Not that Lip is often punctual, but he’s never twenty minutes late for a bagel sandwich and a hard cider. It’s New Year’s Eve. The two of you always pregame for the holiday when you wake up–often late in the day–and you always do it together. Torn between your fake ID for alcohol and your phone to call Lip, you stuff the plastic into your wallet, freeing your hand to dial his number.

New phone. You’d dropped your old one on Christmas. Into Lake fucking Michigan, of all places. You were trying to get a cool picture with your sister. Regardless of how it happened, all your contacts disappeared with your old phone. It’s a good thing you have his number memorized.

The line rings. It rings over, and over, and over again. Lip’s voicemail message plays. You redial.

“Hey! MK, look I can’t—” he cuts himself off, and you hear muffled rushing behind him like he’s somewhere fluttering with activity.

“Where are you?” you ask. The other end is quiet. Not silent, though. There are muffled voices and a beeping that has your mind swimming. “Lip Gallagher, where the hell are you?” you ask again.

The receiver crackles like he’s shifting it around, followed by a plastic sound. “Listen, uh,” he starts, sounding frustrated. “Kar’s water broke, she’s goin’ into labor. So, I won’t be at Adri’s party t’night.”

You don’t answer at first, too stunned. You’ve been telling yourself there’s no way this is real. No fucking way you were going to watch your best friend throw away his life for a girl he knocked up at seventeen. A girl who treats him like shit.

A girl who isn’t you.

“Kind of a big fuckin’ deal, y’know,” he mutters.

You hear the dejection in his voice and decide you won’t be the one to ruin his important day. “Go enjoy it, Lip,” you tell him, “I can’t wait to meet your son sometime.”

There’s a smile in his voice when he responds. “Yeah, thanks. I uh- gotta go, text’ya later,” he says quickly, then the line goes silent.

After hanging up the phone you stare across the street in silence. Eventually your feet guide you back to your car, and muscle memory drives you to Adri’s house. You blare music through your speakers, loud enough to drown out any thought. You’re not ready to process it, not until you get a second opinion, maybe a third. One shaking hand on the steering wheel, you dial your sister’s number.

Roughly an hour later you’re sprawled on Adri’s bed, halfway through a pint of your favorite ice cream. “What the fuck,” you complain for the millionth time, because apparently a second and third opinion on the situation didn’t soothe the uneasy feeling deep in your gut.

“Hey uh, MK?” Adri asks, holding your phone out to you. “You have a text from Mandy.”

Caroline pauses the game she’s playing on Adri’s TV to whip her head around. “Mandy Milkovich?” she asks in disbelief.

You roll your eyes, “yeah it’s Mandy fuckin’ Milkovich, how many Mandys do we know huh?” Adri crowds behind you as you tap the notification, reading the words in silence.

Mandy: micks said ian told him the babys asian Mandy: so, not lips kid Mandy: this is a shitshow

Adri mutters ‘oh shit’ and Caro clambers up into the bed, taking your phone to read for herself. You barely notice her, it’s like the world is silent as your mind spins. “I-I have to go, I have to–” you stumble over your words, but Adri grabs your arm. “I have to make sure he’s okay.”

Adri stares you down, keeping you in her grip. You try to pull away but shes strong. “He isn’t your responsibility, you don’t have to fix him.”

Caro giggles, and you glare, pushing her off the corner of Adri’s bed. You snatch your phone back from the mattress, but Adri takes it from your hand immediately. “No, you’re not letting a Gallagher boy ruin our new year’s eve.”

Lip doesn’t remember how he ended up at Adri’s. He downed two shots in the kitchen with a girl in a sparkly skirt, her hand kept landing on his chest but he didn’t respond to her advances. He’s not sure how he got outside either, he just knows his fingers are ice cold in spite of the whiskey coursing through his veins. He’s not sure when you came outside either, stumbling a little down your own stairs as you rush to him with a coat. All he knows is that he wants a smoke.

“It’s freezing! What the fuck are you doing out here?” You hurry to his side and wrap his bare arms in the coat. His fingers shake, and you attempt to take both of his hands in your own.

“Havin’ a smoke,” he explains, jerking his hands away in favor of the pack of Marlboros in his pocket. “Y’got a light?”

You’re worried, seeing the way his fingers fumble with the pack. He’s so far gone. Feeling a wave of protectiveness and pity wash over you, you nod. You remove one glove to flick your lighter, lighting the cigarette that hangs from his lips. He takes a deep drag, blowing the smoke out before passing it to you. Pursed lips make room for the filtered end, and warm smoke fills your lungs. Fuck, you can taste the whiskey on it. You’re doubtful he’ll even remember where he is in the morning.

You smoke down half of the cig while Lip stands next to you, shaky hands shoved in his pockets and neck craned toward the sky. It’s not like he can see anything, not with the lights of the city. You’re not sure why he’s doing it at all. You nudge him gently, passing back the cigarette.

He takes the thing between his fingers, gesturing towards the sky. Worried hands hover near his sides but he keeps his balance. “No fuckin’ stars,” he grumbles, “who’d want to grow up like that, huh?”

“We grew up like that,” you remind him cynically. Your stomach twists, not “Lip, look at me. What happened?”

Teary blue eyes meet your gaze. One shaking hand brings the cig to his lips, inhaling a slow drag. He blows the smoke away from your face, then drops it on the ground.

“‘S almost midnight,” Lip slurs, hooking an arm around your waist and pointing to the large bay window looking in on your living room. The TV shows the times square ball starting it’s descent. Sixty seconds. “I-I was gonna kiss m’son… at midnight. Fuck—“ he stumbles, tugging you with him.

You plant your feet down, hands gripping his sides to keep him steady. “How much did you drink?”

“As much as I fucking wanted,” he snaps. Forty-five. “Thought I was havin’ a baby with a girl I love, a-an’ she let some other fuckin’ guy knock her up.” He looks at you with teary eyes, and you realize you’ve never seen him this upset.

A worse friend would’ve said I told you so.

“Hey, hey,” you urge, one hand grasping his chin. He still clings to you, arm locked on your middle to keep himself up. “Lip, in a year she won’t even cross your mind. It’ll b-“

You’re silenced when he shouts at you. “Don’t! Don’t start with the ‘it’ll pass’ bullshit.” Thirty. His arm circles you closer, getting in your face to prove a point. Maybe he’s trying to scare you, defending his heart how he’s been taught. “It all comes an’ fuckin’ goes, I get it!” Twenty.

“I’m not going anywhere Lip. Okay?” Your hands move to grip his shoulders, keeping his attention on you. Ten. You repeat yourself, softer this time. “I’m not going anywhere. You’ve got me, and you’ve got a future. Forget her.”

Five. Four. Three. Two.

Lip looks at you with hazy blue eyes. Before you know what’s happening, his lips are on yours.

One.

His arm curls around your back, fingers clutching the fabric of your dress. He tastes like whiskey and smoke, his features etched with regret when he pulls back for air. “Don’t you ever leave me,” he pleads against your lips, voice a low growl.

Maybe it’s the seltzers you’ve downed tonight, maybe it’s the desperate sound of his voice, but you find yourself kissing Lip Gallagher again. It’s a messy affair, his teeth knocking against your own. You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought about it before, of course you have. You spend nearly every day with him, your friendship always teetering on the edge of something more but never quite tipping.

Happy fucking New Year.

You should’ve seen it coming. His knees buckling, body bending over as he falls onto the concrete. “Fuck! What the fuck!?” His eyes are barely open, looking up at you for a quick second before he’s spewing god knows how many drinks into the bushes. “Okay, okay. Alright, sleeves up buddy,” you tell him, forcing down the churn in your own stomach to kneel beside him.

His brow shines with sweat, and between gags he manages, “‘m s-so fuckin’ hot,” in a hoarse grumble. You remove the same jacket you’d placed so carefully on his shoulders minutes before. While his body cools down, the nausea subsides enough for Lip to stand with your aid.

“Come on, inside. Now,” you urge. He has the presence of mind not to protest. Not now, not after everything he’s just put you through. His body remains pliant as you lead him into the now empty kitchen. You bend him over the sink, one hand holds his curls to keep him steady over the basin as you pull out the spray nozzle.

“What’re y’-” he grumbles, but you shush him.

“Gotta rinse y’mouth out,” you murmur. Lip seems barely coherent as he nods. With one finger you test the water temperature, making sure it’s cool enough to maybe wake him up a little. Water spills from the corners of his mouth as you spray it at him, annoyed noises bubbling up from his throat.

Adri appears at your side, her brow furrowed slightly at the situation. “Fuck, MK, he’s like. Not okay,” she says, teeth worrying her lower lip.

You shut the water off, helping him stand back up. A simple shake of your head lets Adri know not to push it, and she understands. One of her arms wraps around Lip’s middle, steadying him further. “You’re gonna go upstairs and get some rest,” you tell him.

In his drunken state Lip can barely walk, let alone haul himself up the stairs. When you finally get him to the game room you notice the wet, grass stained knees of his grey sweatpants. The long sleeve tee he’s wearing can’t be comfortable either, the front practically soaked with alcohol. “Need to get you out of these clothes.”

“Don’ got anything,” he responds.

“Fuck,” you curse, leaving Adri to support him so you can dig through your overnight bag. You find your old, loose tee and black sweats, then turn back to Lip. “Okay, well, you’re wearing mine then.”

Adri makes sure he’s standing fine on his own two feet before moving to give you two some privacy. Before leaving she comes to your side, pulling you in for a quick hug. “Gonna go kick everyone out, it’s nearly one. But I’ll be up. Come talk,” she whispers. She steps back to look at you clearly, concern evident on her face.

“I’m okay AJ,” you whisper back. The tears in your eyes betray you, but she doesn’t say anything.

As you step to his side Lip doesn’t move but he mumbles, “I c’n do it m’self,” when you begin to remove his shirt. You huff in response, rolling your eyes and continuing the motion.

“Yeah, right.” Your knuckles brush his toned stomach, you must be imagining the way he shivers under your touch. It’s like dressing a toddler, but you manage to pull the tee over his head, the fabric clinging to his chest and arms. You keep your gaze towards his face, attempting to be respectful as you untie his sweats. As if you’ve never seen him naked before. But of course that was years ago, when you were kids. Regardless, grey fabric falls to the floor and you use an arm around his waist to keep him steady as he steps into your sweatpants.

Lip drops his head to your shoulder as you tie the strings for him. Your heart nearly stops. “Tired?” you murmur, hand coming to rub his back instinctively. You can feel his fingers curl into your sides to hold you close. Again, you think how you’ve never seen him like this. Vulnerable, his heart aching. If karma was real, Karen Jackson would have ceased to exist already, from all the shit she’s done to him. But the powers that be are cruel, you know that by now.

What you don’t know is that your best friend will wake up in the morning with a headache, and no recollection of the night before…

THX 4 READING → this chapter is dedicated to my lovely @carmybrainworms. beta'd by @tinyphantomsalad

#lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher fluff #lip gallagher x you #lip gallagher fanfiction #lip gallagher x y/n #❀ mkverse #❀ series: borderline #❀ written by maggie [fics]

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amiavy · 8 months ago

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૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ first post!!!

Heartworm [oneshot]

✭ Scaramouche x Reader

ׂ╰┈➤ modern au / they’re in high school / idiots in love!! / fluff / light angst at the end i think!? / childhood friends / fem reader / no use of y/n

.ೃ࿐ synopsis ; you feel you and Scara’s relationship growing more distant as you enter your first year of high school. you start to feel unsure about your feelings 😱.

3,738 words

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help idk how to make posts on tumblr,, i originally posted this on ao3 but decided i also wanna start a blog so. i hope u enjoy :3 ੈ✩‧₊˚

btw he’s,,, called kunikuzushi bc i like it!

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High school is difficult. Especially your first year. It’s a completely new environment, filled with a bunch of people who always feel bigger than you. And considering the meek person you are, it’s no understatement to say that you mostly avoid getting involved with anything too big or too extravagant. You were okay with sitting alone outside in a more secluded place, eating lunch whole listening to music.

The solitude was nice. Feeling the crisp air brush along your skin was refreshing, and definitely needed after getting through crowded hallways and crammed staircases. During these small moments, you mostly felt okay with yourself.

But sometimes, it was too quiet, even for you. The elongated silences were getting uncomfortable. You just needed to be able to speak at times, to talk with someone— just like the two friends at the table beside yours would do everyday.

Occasionally, there would be some groups of kids who would come over, but that wasn’t the break of silence you needed. And yes, maybe sometimes a classmate or stranger would come over, talk for a while, but that wasn’t it either.

You did make some friends, but they were… weren’t, well... You cherished and appreciated them, but—

There was just someone in your life that you didn’t quite feel fulfilled without. And of course, who else would it be but your dear friend Kunikuzushi? Although you still went to school together in the morning most days, it was so fleeting. After that, you barely saw each other during the day.

Unfortunately, you had no classes or even lunch together. And the only after school activity you both joined was Arts Council, which happened once a week, on Wednesdays.

Wait,— today is Wednesday!

Today, you’d get to see him! Finally, after barely being able to spend any time together, you could indulge yourself in some well deserved company.

Thinking of all the topics you could tell him about, you smile to yourself and happily eat your food. You thought of talking about what happened during your week so far, and to ask him about his.

There was a prominent question you wanted to ask him, too. Did he make any other friends?

Other than you, everyone saw him as rather disagreeable— and they weren’t wrong for that! He was snarky, sarcastic, and didn’t like to talk unless necessary. Thus, it made sense for you and him to be sticking together throughout basically your entire youth. After all, the only person willing to be near him is you.

You’re able to see him as someone more than just his spiteful remarks, and so he allowed you to follow him for being “at least tolerable,” as Kunikuzushi said himself.

Being so caught up in your thoughts about him, you were pulled back to reality once you realized that the one song which reminded you of him the most began playing.

The feeling tugs a small, but sweet smile over your lips, which remained while you got yourself ready to head back to class.

Class is as boring as ever. And yet, it’s fairly different from middle school, when you used to sit beside Scaramouche at the back of the class. You remember how fun it was to make small doodles on his notebook in class while he wasn’t looking. Oh well, at least it’s last period, and you’d get to see him soon!

Soon, the bell rang, waking you up as last period ended. You were suddenly much more awake once you recall it was time for Arts Council. With excitement, you quickly pack up and make your way to the club’s room.

Many other members were already walking inside and finding seats, while you wait beside the door for Kunikuzushi.

For some reason, your heart begins pounding. Your stomach feels like it’s all in knots while you think of him. Like you were scared? Nervous? Excited? For… what?

“Hey,” A voice suddenly calls out to you. You exclaim a small wince when you feel your forehead get flicked.

“Wha—“ You were about to speak, until you realize who you were looking up at. It was Kunikuzushi. Your eyes widen slightly, and you could hear yourself stammer just a bit.

He raises an eyebrow at you, seeing how startled you were. “You’re so odd.” He simply says, brushing past you as he went inside. He looks back at you once, gesturing for you to come in as well.

You also look back at him and nod, before looking back a second time. Promptly, you followed and took a seat beside him, moving the stool a bit closer. He lightly scoffs, which makes you giggle. His attitude was always so silly.

You then turn to him, about to say something to start some conversation. However, you see two other figures approach the table, greeting Scaramouche while you direct your attention to them.

You look at the two curiously; a fair man with ashen hair and teal eyes, holding a neutral expression. His name was Albedo, who you knew from your science class. He was smart and humble, though not very social. The other boy had dark teal hair which matched his solemn expression, an amber colour accentuating his cat-like eyes. Even though you didn’t know him, he seemed to have similar energy to Albedo.

After they said hello to Scaramouche, to which he responded with a quiet hum, they both look to you. Surprisingly, Albedo greets you with your name. You didn’t expect him to know you, since he always seemed much more absorbed in his own work.

Albedo then spoke again, “Hm, so you and Scaramouche are…”

“She’s my friend,” Scaramouche answers sternly, a small sigh escaping his mouth.

Albedo nods, looking at Scaramouche with a slightly surprised expression. Once you agree, he nods once more and introduces you to Xiao, who wouldn’t say more than a greeting.

Albedo decided to sit in front of you, with Xiao quietly taking the seat beside him. Before any more words could be said, the club’s supervisor teacher comes in and began discussing today’s activities.

Valentine’s Day was soon approaching, and the council chose to prepare a cute, small photo booth. You volunteered to paint the booth’s background, to which Scaramouche agreed to help out with. Albedo and Xiao had already left the room to paint a school mural.

Everyone got to work promptly— you quickly gather the materials while Scaramouche brings over the large canvas paper, setting it over the table. He sat down once it was placed, watching as you walk over with various painting supplies.

With a sigh, he walks over to you, taking a few of the supplies from your arms.

“You looked like you were going to drop everything. Slow as ever, too.” He remarks, turning as he makes his way back to the table. You just smile, following him as you set the rest of the materials out.

“How about we do some sort of sunset? Then we can ask for some paper hearts to frame around it,” You suggest, Scaramouche shrugging in response. “That sounds fine with me, whatever you want.”

After discussing it a bit more, with Scaramouche mostly just giving passive responses and small comments, the two of you begin sketching it out. It was a rather plain sketch with not much going on since it was just a background focused on the colour and scenery.

And yet, even during such a simple task, you couldn’t help but get distracted, your eyes constantly flicking up from the paper to look at him.

Even with your unfocused attitude, the two of you got the sketch done quickly, and began painting. Your eyes were guided by the way your soft brush strokes worked in harmony with his, flowing against the blank canvas to shape colour and unity between your two brushes.

At first, the two of you continue to work in relative silence, until you finally speak, “So, how’s your week been so far?” You ask, looking up at him briefly. In that moment, he looks up at you as well, though his eyes swiftly shy away.

“It’s been the same as ever. Just some boring classes.” Scaramouche says plainly, not looking up again. You knew it was a typical response, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit upset when he said it was “the same as ever”. You wait to hear him say more— to say that he missed you, too. But you knew him, and you knew it was far too uncharacteristic.

You simply hum, nodding your head in acknowledgement. It was silent for a bit more as you both continued painting.

“…Aren’t you going to tell me about yours?” He speaks up, his authoritative voice grabbing your attention. He looks like he was forcing himself to face you as he rests his elbows on the table.

Heat burns onto your cheeks as his eyes focus onto your own.

“Ah, right,” You stammer quickly, blinking a few times. Why did it suddenly feel so tense? After years of knowing each other, you should be comfortable more than anything, right?

“It’s been… okay, I guess.” You say, “I enjoy eating lunch alone. But you’d be an exception, of course,” You laugh, sounding like you were joking, but you weren’t.

He lets out a scoffed laugh, an amused smile playing on his lips. “Obviously,” He says confidently. He then resumes his painting, looking up at you once as a signal to continue talking.

“I think I’m kinda just making acquaintances, not really friends, or something, you know?” You continue, trying to think of the right words. “I like the people I meet, but I dunno if I’d call them my friends. Maybe my definition of a ‘friend’ is a bit confusing, I guess.”

“Well, is it a bad thing?” Scaramouche asks in a smooth tone, yet mumbling a bit. He looks up at you curiously before his eyes scurry away once again.

You think about it for a moment before reluctantly shaking your head. “No, it’s alright actually. My mind’s been acting kind so it’s peaceful.” You say with a laugh, still just watching as he painted.

Scaramouche nods again. He was surprised and confused as to why he found himself somewhat glad. “Do you just plan on slacking?” He questions, giving you a teasing smile as he remarks on you simply sitting and watching him.

You frown, promptly standing up and starting to paint again. “Of course not!” You exclaim. However, some club members had already began leaving by now, so you thought about leaving soon as well.

The two of you talk a bit more about classes and work, occasionally bickering until you deice it was time to leave. After you clean up and say goodbye to everyone else, Scaramouche follows you to your locker.

He stands closely behind as you put back and grab things from your locker. Although you couldn’t see him from behind, you could feel his fixed gaze on you. His eyes scrunch slightly every time you accidentally graze your arm against his while sorting things out, but he stays silent.

Scaramouche takes a look at your decorated locker, small stickers, random decor,— and a picture of you two. He eyes it for a moment until you get up.

You opted to close the door, until he swiftly places his hand atop yours and stops you. A smug smile was evident on his face when you turned to question him.

“I didn’t know you put this up,” He asserts teasingly. It made your heart beat faster once again as you try to calm down.

“Isn’t it cute?” You ask, shrugging it off and acting unaffected. “I’m not sure about that.” He chuckles.

“But don’t take it down. That’s not what I’m trying to say.” Scaramouche says in a light tone, though clearly meaning his command.

He then closes the door, taking his hand off of yours as you put the lock back on, chasing him as he already began walking off. With a heart beating like crazy, you made your way to his side, walking to the exit together.

“Going straight home?” You ask. He hums in response, looking straight ahead.

The two of you walk through the empty corridor, not saying much. You didn’t have too much to talk about, especially after years of knowing each other. Usually, the silence would be comfortable.

And yet, it feels weirdly tense.

Every time your shoulders bumped, you can’t help but look up at him and want to see his expression. Looking at him felt different nowadays.

You try to feign ignorance to the cold, despite your mild shivering. It was early February, after all. Grass is covered in frost, and you could feel the cold air starting to nip at your face and hands. Small clouds appear at your mouth as hot breath escapes your lips, matching the sight of chimneys on houses you walk by.

Scaramouche was looking ethereal as always. His austere, cold eyes were accentuated by the season’s cool tones, additionally contrasted by the warm hue of blush on his pretty, pale cheeks which was perfectly framed by his indigo hair.

You quickly look away, placing your eyes on the snow falling instead.

After a breath, you speak, “I love the snow. It’s sooo pretty,” You happily say, “It’s really cold, but melts like magic when you touch it.”

“I know. Because it comes in contact with your warmth.” Scaramouche replies, turning his head to look at you while you watch the snowflakes. You laugh a bit at his stoic response.

There was a small pause.

You then grab onto his arm, pulling him forwards with you. “Come on, let’s stop by at the park for a bit!” You exclaim, taking him off guard. “Why would we do that—?!” He blurts, nearly falling over as you took him by surprise.

“‘Cause we haven’t seen each other often,” You tell him honestly, your voice quieting down as you lead him.

You make sure not to look at him while you spoke, so that he won’t see how much you meant those words.

“…Fine.” Scaramouche sighs, following you over to the park. It was close to your house, so the two of you used to go quite often. Or rather, you’d drag him along with you. Especially when you were kids. He’d never admit it, but he truly did enjoy going with you.

To just simply be together and forget about everything bad was heavenly— and he’s just obsessed with how you treated him.

…Not that’d he’d tell you that, of course. And obviously, he wouldn’t tell you how glad he was that you proposed to hang out for a bit. And how happy it made him when the two of you spent time alone during Arts Council.

No, he just couldn’t. Not when he was face-to-face with the risk of losing you.

Scaramouche was quickly cut out of his thoughts when you dragged him over to the swings, swiftly brushing the snow off the seats and getting on. You invite him to join you once you patted the snow off the other swing, looking at him expectantly.

He complies, sitting down as his hands loosely grasp the swing’s chains. He lightly sways, though not putting enough force to fully swing himself like you.

Scaramouche looks up at the snowy sky— or, pretends to look at the sky when he was really just staring at you each time the swing brought you high enough into his view.

He softly bit the inside of his lip, a sign of uncertainty as to whether or not he should say something.

Maybe even something about… how his chest kept feeling heavier. Suffocating, in a way. Especially when he looked at you.

At your features that were absolute perfection in his eyes. At your smile which never failed to warm him. At your starry eyes that made his breath get caught in his throat whenever they looked back at his.

“Why don’t you swing yourself?” You speak up, finally looking at him. The thought never really crossed his mind— after all, it was just pushing yourself back at forth.

“I happen to like it here. You know, swinging yourself like this is just as enjoyable.” Scaramouche says, sounding as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You hum, shrugging your shoulders. You didn’t really agree, but he was always an eccentric person. You continue to swing yourself, a small smile of amusement on your face.

Scaramouche naturally noticed it, and it caused a pleased smile to emerge on his lips as well. “Besides, you look quite foolish just going back and forth.” He mocks, sounding entertained by how idiotic he made you out to be.

You heave, frowning at him. “I do not. It’s fun. And you’re a bore,” You insult him back.

“Oh, I’m a bore?” He scoffs, raising an eyebrow. “That’s too bad. Because it seems like you’re always stuck with me.” He laughs.

“Unless you uncharacteristically run away now. Apparently even though I’m boring, you never choose to do so.” Scaramouche finishes teasingly, grinning.

You furrow your brows, glaring at him. Your cheeks heat up because you knew he was right— and it was frustrating!

“That’s ‘cause I’d feel bad seeing you alone!” You exclaim, just thinking of anything to rebut his statements.

He then grabs the chain of your swing, frowning irritably. His sudden motion caused your swing to move with uncertainty, making you hold on tightly until it finally stopped.

“Stop that!” You utter, playfully hitting his arm.

The two of you continue to bicker for a bit as usual, every so often talking about recent events and how school has been treating you. You liked having insight onto his life. And he liked having lots on yours.

You eventually slow down on the swing, resorting to weakly swaying just like Scaramouche as you continued to chat.

“How about Xiao and Albedo? Are you friends with them?” You ask, continuing the conversation.

“Mmm. I don’t know what you would consider a friend. But I guess I consider them acquaintances.” Scaramouche shrugs, not putting much thought into the other two boys.

“I just talk to them in class sometimes, when the teacher forces us to ‘discuss in small groups’.” He notes, rolling his eyes as he recalls his teacher’s ways.

“But, uh—…” Scaramouche starts to stutter, looking down as he seemed to consider his words. He sighed again.

He then brought his head up, turning to face you. “So, you and Albedo knew each other?” He breathlessly asks, his expression rigid.

His sudden behaviour took you a bit off guard. He always seemed so stern and sure of his words.

“Yeah, somewhat?— Well, not really, actually.” You stammered, thinking as you spoke. “We’re just in the same science class. He seems to like his work more than people, so…”

Scaramouche nods, his face relaxing. He looks back up at the falling snow, which had accumulated on the ground much more.

The air was much colder now that time had passed with the two of you just talking. The sky dimmed into a cool blue, signalling evening’s approaching.

There was a comfortable silence between you two. Well, you tried to think it was comfortable. Honestly, you were battling your feelings with every bit of your rationality left.

You tried so hard to tell yourself that you were okay with being friends. Friends. And nothing more. But after so long, you knew that all you wanted was more.

For Scaramouche, it was the same. All he wants is to keep you by his side forever. From childhood until eternity, you are what he wants. But not just like this.

If he had to shamefully admit it… He wanted you like the cheesy couples you occasionally watched during your many movie nights.

He hated the thought of how vulnerable you made him. How you could so easily make him weak. If you just asked, he would love you so ardently, more than anyone could.

You were both plagued by these thoughts, and you both knew you had to do something. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, and the silence that filled the space around you two, which you tried to think was comfortable, was really just full of tension and thickening air.

“Scaramouche,” you grabbed his attention, making him face you, “I’m really glad we got some time to ourselves today.” You say, your voice soft yet a bit hesitant.

Scaramouche let out a heavy breath as his mind seemed to conflict when he stared back at you. “…I am too.” He unusually confesses.

There was another pause between you two.

“I hope we’ll have lots more times like this. I… really do miss being near you all the time. It’s different.” Your words made Scaramouche’s eyes widen slightly. There was a pounding in his chest, making him clutch the swing’s chains a bit tighter.

His lips trembled a bit before responding, “We will. Don’t worry. There’s lots of time for us.” He says sternly. “If our schedules become so packed that they keep us away, then I’ll take care of it.”

There was that feeling again. Your heart started beating faster, and despite the cold outside, you felt completely warm. You hoped Scaramouche felt this way too— that the pinkish hue on his cheeks was because of his feelings and not the cold.

You smile at him.

“That’s good to know.” You giggle. “I’ll do the same, then. Promise?” You ask, reaching your pinky out to him.

He scoffs, but places his pinky out to entwine with yours anyway. “In high school? Still? Very childish, but not unexpected.” He says, still poking fun at you.

You roll your eyes and made a pinky promise, not pulling your finger away yet. You want your touch to linger more, even if it wasn’t necessary. Though, he didn’t seem to have any objections.

After another quick squeeze, you carefully pull your hand away and stand up, getting off the swing. “Let’s get home now, it’s getting way too cold.” You tell him, a shiver running down your spine.

There were still lots of unsaid words. Many things still buried. So much yearning.

But for now, with the way you tug his arm along to get home, perhaps it was better for you both to stay quiet.

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hell yea i can be pretty cringe! i’m surprised if u read this far ily <3

#scaramouche #scaramouche fluff #scara fluff #genshin scara #genshin impact #genshin x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #scara x you #scaramouche x you #am i doing this right?#avy/ami’s stuff ✮⋆˙#woah i can do that

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inchidentally · 11 months ago

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@vastappenen LISTEN okay so this is the full spin-off of the Charlos part of my Prince Lando AU post

I cannot write real fic so this is just like me doing a retelling of what's gone on in my mind lol - and this is the post of Charles in White that's screencapped above

(side note my friend was listening to this haunting music while I wrote this so it might help set the scene - it's called "Fancy on a Bach Air" by Yo-Yo Ma)

this gets a bit NSFW toward the end so fair warning!

ok so to start, this is what was in my original post

Unfortunately the royal courts of Europe were shaken by a quick series of upsets: His Serene Highness Lorenzo of Monaco abdicated the throne in search of a quieter life - his heart had never been in it since his father, the former Sovereign Prince, had become ill and abdicated. This left Lorenzo’s unwed brother Charles to be hastily crowned Prince Regent at the tender age of 22 (too young to be crowned Sovereign Prince bc modern monarchy rules I’m inventing). As a result Charles suffered the loss of his long-time suitor, nobleman Sebastian Vettel, who couldn’t bear the thought of being Sovereign Prince let alone of a land that wasn’t even his own.

Enter the Sainz Vázquez de Castro elders seizing the opportunity and negotiating a deal with Monaco in private conclave with the Papal State (??) to wed their son Carlos to the Prince Regent. Carlos is ashamed at giving in to the temptation… to not just be Prince Consort but to be Sovereign Prince, to rule over the vast wealth of Monaco and by extension the Holy See, to have the coveted beauty Charles in his bed. So he agrees to be spirited away to Monaco and the ugly business of dissolving his betrothal to Lando is left to members of church and state.

But Carlos experiences a complete conversion when Charles is on his knees in the cathedral - looking up at him with docile green eyes as Carlos’ fingertips touch the warm red roses of Charles’ lips as he holds the chalice of holy wine for Charles to drink. Carlos was almost hard beneath the ermine and velvet robes in a house of God when the crown was on his head and Charles next to him - and slightly below - smiling up at him with filaments of gold hanging from pendants on his chaplet, framing his achingly beautiful face. If Carlos feels his immense happiness and prosperity darken whenever he sees Lando’s picture or encounters him at one of the courts then no one need know.

ok so I've removed this from the narrative to of course be charlos true happiness endgame and removed Seb entirely, or he can just be called a close confidante and possible candidate to marry Charles but not very serious.

I imagine young Carlos Jr. moving through the royal courts as a child and teen and seeing the royal children of Monaco sometimes. in my weird version of royalty I have it that Lorenzo is the natural successor to the throne and therefore has always been allowed to dress and be seen "normally". as a second child, Charles was always the rightful property of whichever alliance would maintain Monaco's independence. he was raised mostly in the Prince's Palace and when playing or venturing to where he could be seen he's attended by a retinue of guards each carrying a gonfalon to conceal the young prince from view. on the rare occasions that the prince will be around those not within his immediate family or private staff, he is carefully wrapped in embroidered, jeweled white silks or cottons (depending on the climate) with only his eyes visible. the only color allowed being a scarlet silk girdle around his hips. until he reaches maturity or is married he wears a ferronnière with a single white diamond at his forehead. (I imagine the wrapping as looking like fancy white fireproofs that cover the hands as well and a long, flowy tunic over the top with smart little white renaissance boots (that Charles hates).

Prince Charles is also not permitted to speak outside of his family circle/staff but he is taught multiple languages and fond rumors spread that the prince has a charming lilting accent that comes from a little of everywhere. he is also taught the piano and there is a place on the shore that only locals know of where fairy echoes of his playing can be heard. they call it his 'lone voice' because the mood inside the palace can be judged by the prince's choice of music. childish and jolly for a while, then more challenging pieces, until his eighteenth birthday and an unknown dirge for his godfather who had perished during a racing tourney that summer. the prince's music would change over the years but it would never be joyful again.

I imagine many instances over the years of Carlos Jr. being coaxed by a conniving Carlos Sr. into bowing low to the small, mummified-looking creature that everyone assures him is a prince. the eyes and vague suggestion of white-clad hands and feet are the only indications that this is true, but the big green eyes are very expressive and seem to smile whenever they meet Carlos' own big brown eyes. Prince Lorenzo has a kind smile and would be a good playmate but solemnly maintains his position by his parents' side. Prince Arthur comes along in a bundle of energy and mischief - being blessed with a birthright to total freedom so long as his elder siblings are alive. he enjoys being swung around and thrown in the air by Carlos Jr. which helps pass the tedium of royal engagements. Arthur is clearly the favorite of Charles who rather mothers him - especially when the Sovereign Prince falls ill and hushed preparations are made behind palace walls for Lorenzo to take the throne. Charles is so deep in mourning for his godfather and soon his own father that his presentation at court is delayed indefinitely as it would be cruel to open him up to marriage bids that would inevitably take him from his home.

in the meantime, Carlos Jr. has grown into his large features and promises to inherit all his father's looks and daring. at his father's encouragement - "by the time you wed a virgin, you will need to know everything there is to know about pleasing them" - Carlos enjoys countless conquests across every continent on the globe. he's a seasoned bachelor by the age of 20 and has been given his own estate outside of Madrid to party, race expensive cars and drink expensive wine. but even as he wakes between the thighs of this or that beautiful boy or girl, his mind recalls the hours spent at court in Monaco trying to discern the subtlest lines of Prince Charles' body beneath the absurd layers of drapery. he knows for sure that the prince is slim but not scrawny. that his posture is upright and proud and stands about the same height as Carlos. at times when he scoops Arthur up to hold on one hip, Carlos can discern the fine dip of a small waist - probably small enough for Carlos' big hands to meet around. what a gift-wrapped present for whoever got to marry him!

but by the time they next meet, news has traveled all over of the Sovereign Prince's health and plans for the reluctant Prince Lorenzo to be hastily crowned. during their first visit after this news, Carlos Jr. makes his usual low bow to Prince Charles but when he looks up he sees tears clouding the prince's green eyes. it twists Carlos' heart and he boldly takes the prince's hand and presses a hurried kiss to the silk and at the same time trying to speak with his eyes how sorry he is for the prince. the small noise Charles makes at Carlos' boldness is a precious secret Carlos holds like a tangible thing against the breast of his tailcoat as he hurries down the steps before any of the other royals can notice what he's done.

[this is when the above section from my AU comes in and Carlos is attempted to be married off to Prince Lando, Lorenzo abdicates, Charles can only be named Prince Regent bc of his status etc and a hasty arrangement is made for him to marry Carlos]

at their wedding I imagine Charles' veil/headdress to be much lighter and tied in a simple knot at the base of his head. the only time Charles is called to speak is to swear fealty to the crown, to his country, and to his husband (it's also the first time Charles' voice has been heard by almost everyone in the Cathedral including Carlos. it sounds like joyous music, dipping deep and rich one moment and high and sweet the next - with a little bubble of laughter at the end. Carlos wants to hear him talk forever.) when the priest finishes his blessing, Carlos put a hand beneath Charles' chin and guides him to stand. he moves closer to Charles than he has ever been permitted and circles his arms around his neck to untie the knot. the veil falls away and a collective gasp rises up from the cathedral through the clouds of incense. Carlos doesn't gasp so much as suck in a triumphant breath through his nostrils and lifts his chin in triumph. Charles is not just the chaste ideal of beauty that the court and citizens of Monaco had whispered about for years, he is the vision of temptation itself: a delicate brush-spatter of freckles beneath a flush on finely molded cheekbones, a straight French nose that was the final word on French noses, and perfectly smooth lips in the shape of a patriotic 'M' and the exact red of Monaco's flag. the prince's hair and brows have all the shades of a glossy hazelnut and a thick fan of lashes surrounded the green eyes - all that Carlos had known of him until now. but soon, he would know everything about Charles and in a way no one else ever had or would.

Carlos is supposed to buss a small, ceremonial barely-there kiss to Charles' lips to please the court but of course he can't help himself and, holding Charles' face in his big hands, presses a fiercely possessive (thankfully still close-mouthed) kiss that nearly makes Charles collapse. murmurs go around the cathedral of "well, those Spaniards, you know".

when they are crowned, my version of royalty has the priest setting the heavy gold crown on Carlos' head but Carlos in turn places the chaplet of gold leaves and gemstone pendants on Charles. Carlos is flying as high as mortal can when he can finally lead Charles out to the balcony and show him off to the waiting public. Carlos wonders if there's a man on earth who possesses more wealth than he does at that moment.

but there's one more thing he doesn't yet have! oh you bet the bedding ceremony is weird and fucked up and poor Charles is using the short time they have alone as they move through the halls (merely flanked by guards) to nervously and apologetically explain to Carlos what they will need to do. something about protocol for regents who found it difficult to "perform" under such circumstances etc. Carlos just puts a big warm hand to Charles' lips as they are rushed along, leaning into to whisper that he'd take Charles' virginity in front of his own grandmother if that's what was required and his desire still wouldn't be dampened.

the chamber is small and has one purpose. the clergy stand behind wrought iron mullioned screens but Charles can see their eyes clearly and has known many of them all his life. he'd probably faint dead away from nerves if Carlos didn't pull him close and kiss him so deep and dirty it should've turned Charles' white gown red with lust. Carlos tells him to look only into his eyes, that he'll take good care of him. there's a whole intense sexy element to Carlos unwrapping Charles the rest of the way, just like the birthday present he'd imagined when he was a teenager. he probably spends WAY too much time on foreplay considering the witnesses are only there to see one thing and then leave but Carlos knows that Charles deserves this. by the time they've reached the point where Carlos can reach a hand between them and literally 'come' up with the goods to hold up and be viewed, Charles' moans are reaching up to the rafters. there's a rustle and murmured blessings as the priests finally withdraw.

Carlos is like FINALLY and decides to give Charles every bit of the benefit of his vast experience and looks smug as hell when Charles' attendants have to physically carry Charles to his own bed bc Carlos fucked him senseless lmao

agfalsgfsla this was so weird and detailed and I do not know WHERE it came from but if an actual writer sees this and wants to write it properly PLEASE tag me or message me!!!

EDIT: these are great photo references for adult Charles and Carlos in this AU

source

#charlos #carlos sainz jr x charles leclerc #mine #I hope you enjoy @vastappen !!#f1 royalty au #prince of monaco

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mialikeshockey · 1 year ago

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Adore You - Mark Estapa

Based on the song “Adore you” by Harry Styles :)

bowling date night with Mark and you can’t do anything but adore the man in front of you.

“You don’t have to say you love me, I just wanna tell you something. Lately you’ve been on my mind. Honey, I’d, I’d walk through fire for you. Just let me adore you. Like it’s the only thing I’ll ever do.”

You hear Mark come home after spending the day with the guys. Your puppy was barking like crazy while you could hear Mark saying hi to them.

He went to the lake with them while you and your friends went too but went home sooner. Mark stayed back to help everyone clean up.

Tonight was also date night. Almost every weekend was. No matter how late. It always happened no matter what.

“You ready, love?” Mark questioned walking into the room. “Almost…give me like five more minutes.” You say as you finish up washing your face. He smiles, while sitting down on the bed.

You and Mark went on dates almost every weekend. Either out to restaurants or just going to places like the bowling alley. The bowling alley was a personal favorite.

Seeing his face light up,as he smiles after making a strike. You couldn’t help but adore him. He was honestly the best boyfriend you can even remember having. He’s extremely sweet.

“All ready.” You take his hand, pressing a kiss into his fingers. While heading out the door Mark grabs his keys still not letting go of your hand.

The drive wasn’t to far. Mark mostly just talked about how we wanted to go to the beach again soon. He loves being out in the water. He sometimes reminds me of a man child. He gets so excited over the smallest things and it’s so adorable.

As we got to the bowling alley, we get our shoes and put our names into the board. Mark just put his as “stop sign” and you put yours “ts lover”. You and Mark always joked around with saying you were a puck bunny for him, even though you actually met Mark at a hockey game.

As the night continues, you and Mark were full of giggles and laughs. You loved nights like this. Practice and hockey free. Non of the team there. Just you and your favorite boy.

“LETS GO BABY!” Mark yells after making another strike. You giggle as he turns over all smiley. Mark sits down next to you and you put your head on his shoulder. “Wanna go get ice cream am after this?” He asks softly.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” You smiled. “We can finish this game up if you want, or we can go now. It’s up to you sweetheart.”

“We can go now if you want too.” You say turning to him. After you guys returned the shoes and got back to the car.

As the night went on it got pretty late. You and Mark were sitting outside of the ice cream shop. “The sky looks so pretty. All the stars…they are extremely bright.” You say while finishing your ice cream.

liked by markestapa, edwards.73, rutgermcgroarty, and others

yourusername i love you but maybe I love our puppy more 😁

markestapa the puppy ain’t even all that but I love you more THAN THE PUPPY. 🥲

^ edwards.73 aye don’t do my bud like that Estapa.

^ markestapa be•tray•al : the action of betraying one's country, a group, or a person; treachery. "the betrayal by the king by his daughter"

rutgermcgroarty why didn’t I get icecream.

^ luca.fantilli bro fr like??

^ mackie.samo we just ain’t cool enough man 🤧

^ markestapa why do u guys comment on all my gfs posts 😐

^ lhughes_06 bc she’s better than u?

^ markestapa bruh my own teammate.

^ edwards.73 dw bro ur still my bf

^ markestapa good 😍

^ yourusername damn. My bf js got taken 😪

——————————————————————

hi sorry ik my posts have been rlly bad lately I have had no motivation whatsoever and anything I come up with I don’t like and I hide in my drafts but Lunas over and when she’s over she forces her motivation on me 🥲 (not rlly she just talks about writing and than I think of something)

But anyways me and her are doing face masks rn and listening to music and it’s 4am 😍 alr bye bye ilyg

tagging some ppl - @lunaaaaaa-nothere @jeromes-scars

#mark estapa #mark estapa x reader #umich hockey #umich hockey mark estapa

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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 3 months ago

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tuesday again 8/20/2024

a little light this week bc i had a fairly wretched week, medically speaking

listening

hozier's nobody's soldier would have been on every 8tracks mix for every character. THEEEEE blorbo song of all time to the point i am already annoyed at the thought of seeing it on every spotify mix. fuckin owns tho. very fun mod sixties heist taste to the horn arrangement

youtube

reading

thank you philip.

polished off the Marauders (2019-2022) comics. i liked the first volume way more than these three-- they didn't quite deliver the same quality of art or swashbuckles-per-minute. also this was probably not a great choice for someone who has forgotten what little she once knew about the xmen, even though they came at the beginning of a reboot.

why did i read these? mostly bc they were readily available or with short wait times at my library and my bestie is making me watch all the xmen movies. a girl gets curious about comic books sometimes

surprisingly, i came across this one from the Pocket integration on the firefox new tabs

McDonald likens the functions of Spotify to Google Maps. “Google Maps doesn’t do the exploration for me, but it’s helpful if I go somewhere,” he says. Rather than taking us on guided tours, it provides the tools for us to navigate somewhere new. Much as it shows us what’s nearby and how to get there, and flags notable landmarks others have visited, Spotify helps us access most music, lists global listening trends, and introduces us to artists similar to those we already know. But it’s communities that help us home in on a destination Spotify can help us explore.

part two of breaking down infamous academic paper mill Hindawi and why it was bought by Wiley anyway bc they did seemingly no due diligence, bc as a whole they do very little actual work in the publishing process.

i have included a very long quote bc it is one of only two things that made me genuinely laugh out loud this week (the other was phil unsticking a claw from the couch by backflipping herself out)

One issue of Wireless Communications and Mobile Computing from 2022, edited mostly by Hamurabi Gamboa Rosales, took an average of about 20 days to go from initial submission to revision submission. This is not unlikely, it’s impossible. The easiest way to explain this is with an analogy. Say there’s a pothole outside your house, and you call the council. You tell them ‘there’s a big hole in the road outside my house!’ The person at the other end, rather than tiredly telling you to fill out a form - which is what councils do all over the world, in my experience - instead yells ‘MOTHER OF GOD! WE’RE RIGHT ON IT!’ Twenty minutes later, a bitumen truck comes HURTLING around the corner of your street at full send, with the road workers hanging out the back of it, the driver leaning on the horn and yelling ‘GET OUT OF THE WAY! POTHOLE!’ They pull up outside your house, and you see the brakes go hot. But the guys don’t even wait for it to stop, they jump off while it’s slowing down, and they grab pry bars and a burner and a kettle of bitumen, and they start hammering out the edges, pour the bitumen and start slamming it with hammers almost at the same time. In about six minutes, the hole is filled and flattened, and they admire their work for about four hundred milliseconds and SCREAM off the way they came. No sooner has the truck disappeared, then your phone rings - and it’s the council worker from before. ‘POTHOLE! *pant* *pant* FIXED! Happy to be of service!’ *click* That’s how likely the entire editorial process taking 20 days is.

watching

i don't understand why the third xmen movie isn't named x cubed. it extremely is not their last stand there are like a dozen more movies to go. gun to my head i could not tell you what happened in this one. whatsherface did look good as hell though

and now for the movie i actually want to talk about, Monkey Man (2024, dir. Patel). imdb says:

An anonymous young man unleashes a campaign of vengeance against the corrupt leaders who murdered his mother and continue to systematically victimize the poor and powerless.

i am so so so lucky that my favorite kind of fight scene — fast, brutal, right spaces with improvised weapons-- is fashionable. pour it DIRECTLY into my open mouth

i think i generally agree with a broad sweep of reviewers here when i tell you that this movie is gorgeous and grossnasty at the same time, there are a lot of ideas that aren't all quite resolved, and i am much more interested in why it has a hell of a lot of ideas (part of why they don't all get resolved).

patel's first movie, it feels very much like a movie of someone who isn't sure they'll be able to do another one, so throw everything you've got in here. a sort of famously rocky production and shoestring budget, but you would not know it. the club scenes are especially dripping in glitz and, like many stage productions, have a lot of clever editing and strategic deployment of mirrors and repeats. there's a fight scene with hanging mirrors near the end where the mirrors can't have been more than fifty bucks each but it looks SO fucking sick.

i am much more willing to go to bat for this movie and ignore some of the rough edges bc it is so refreshingly earnest, and despite the style references, is very focused on being its own thing. at some points it's going to feel like The Matrix (1999, dir. the Wachowskis) bc every movie made in a post- The Matrix (1999, dir. the Wachowskis) world is going to feel a little bit like The Matrix (1999, dir. the Wachowskis). or like when the above gif happened in the movie it did not make me want to turn it off and go watch the first john wick.

people who live in india or are part of the diaspora are a little cranky about the political parties of the film, which had to be neutered for release. while i don't think i would have grasped all the nuances even if we did have the original cut, i think it's likely some of the characters would have resolved a little cleaner if that original intent was still there.

why did i watch this? i think patel is easily as hot as tumblr darling mifune. while drafting this post i got distracted sooooooo many times trying to pick the perfect gif. some of them are too hot!!!

playing

fallow week

making

just stayin alive! just livin the fuckin dream!!!

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem

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alittlebitofloveliness · 2 months ago

Note

same anon that sent the little blurb earlier abt the curtis boys earlier ,, i come bearing more thoughts abt our boys as kids😚

- soda LOVES hanging out with their dad in the garage, mostly because he really loves cars but also since he struggles in school with reading (dyslexia slay) he loves working on the car bc it’s hands-on and it actually makes sense in his brain

- while pony is still too young to go to school and is still staying home with mama curtis he is ALWAYS outside the house waiting for darry when he gets off the bus. darry always runs rigjt up to his baby brother and hugs him and swings him around and they play outside together while they wait for soda to get home

-pony LOVES when soda brings their friend johnny back from school because they always get extra snacks and johnny loves to sit on the couch with pony and listen to him read his picture books (pony’s not actually reading, he’s just making up a story as he goes and it kinda matches the pictures lol)

bonus hc for musical fans: soda rushing home and telling his mama about this super cool girl ace that was playing football with them at recess

AWWWW anon I love these! i've been sitting on this ask trying to come up with a few to add, but I can't really think of any except for the facts that little Johnny is the one who a) ALWAYS lets Ponyboy play with him and Soda and Darry, even when his brothers told him off for being a tagalong, and b) is rough but never hurts him even by accident, not like Darry or even Soda

thanks for the ask, this made me giggle every time I looked back at it

#the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #johnny cade

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hollyhumbrstone · 1 year ago

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tagged by @foxhenri thank you darling!! <3

rules: bold the ones that are true and tag 15 people to do it.

appearance. i’m over 5’5” // i wear glasses/contacts // i have blonde hair // i prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // i have one or more piercings // i have at least one tattoo // i have blue eyes // i have dyed or highlighted my hair // i have gotten plastic surgery // i have or had braces // i sunburn easily // i have freckles // i paint my nails // i typically wear make-up // i don’t often smile // i am pleased with how i look // i prefer nike to adidas // i wear baseball hats backwards

hobbies and talents. i play a sport // i can play an instrument // i am artistic // i know more than one language // i have won a trophy in some sort of competition // i can cook or bake without a recipe // i know how to swim // i enjoy writing // i can do origami // i prefer movies to tv shows (actual anjoyment yes, but i watch tv more often bc i wanna turn my brain off <3) // i can execute a perfect somersault // i enjoy singing // i could survive in the wild on my own // i have read a new book series this year // i enjoy spending time with friends // i travel during school or work breaks // i can do a handstand (against a wall|)

relationship. i am in a relationship // i have been single for over a year // i have a crush // i have a best friend i have known for ten years // my parents are together // i have dated my best friend // i am adopted // my crush has confessed to me // i have a long distance relationship // i am an only child // i give advice to my friends // i have made an online friend // i met up with someone i have met online

aesthetics. i have heard the ocean in a conch shell // i have watched the sun rise // i enjoy rainy days // i have slept under the stars // i meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // i enjoy the smell of the beach // i know what snow tastes like // i listen to music to fall asleep // i enjoy thunderstorms // i enjoy cloud watching // i have attended a bonfire // i pay close attention to colours // i find mystery in the ocean // i enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favourite season

miscellaneous. i can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // i am the mom friend // i live by a certain quote (mostly i want to be kind) // i like the smell of sharpies // i am involved in extracurricular activities // i enjoy mexican food // i can drive a stick-shift // i believe in true love // i make up scenarios to fall asleep // i sing in the shower // i wish i lived in a video game (animal crossing) // i have a canopy above my bed // i am multiracial // i am a redhead // i own at least three dogs

tagging: @daymetnights / @alwaysawendy / @delilahsbard / @morgots /@hellshee / @joanna-lannister

#tag game

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fizzy-watches-and-listens · 9 months ago

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DPS characters favourite artists

but only artists i listen to or have good knowledge of bc i said so and you cant stop me mom!!

Todd: mitski bc ofc, i think his favourite album would either be tliiasaw or lush, lael neale bc her whole discography screams toddy anderson and then adrianne lenker and big thief. todd loves acoustic and singer/songwriter and you cant tell me otherwise

Neil: we as a fandom ignore that this gay would be listening to his favourite musicals all the time but outside of that i think he listens to stuff like the strokes and the smiths (as much as i hate them i cant deny it)

Charlie: probably some punk stuff like the clash or one of my personal favourites hard nips

Knox: what do straight men even listen to?

Meeks: BOWIE - particularly 70s/80s bowie and i think his favourite album is either scary monsters or diamond dogs, queen ofc and the beach boys

Pitts: a man after my own heart <333; he listens to lots of folk and folk-rock, simon and garfunkel, bob dylan and jim croce as well as some of led zeppelin's later stuff

Cameron: he likes to tell everyone he only listens to classical music but he really listens to 90s rock and grunge so lots of nirvana, jeff buckley and the cranberries

Mr Keating: he listens to mostly instrumental and classical stuff but will occasionally delve into the more poetic artists like paul simon and tim buckley, also a massive fan of jazz

#dead poets society #dps #todd anderson #stephen meeks #neil perry #gerard pitts #richard cameron #knox overstreet #charlie dalton #john keating #music #dps headcanons

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hinamie · 7 months ago

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some notes/hcs from th jjk band!au ! read at your leisure i have written a novel 🫠

tl;dr guitarist brothers suku/ita bassist megu drummer nobara band name BL4CK FL4SH

i imagine them slightly aged up in this au, i'm thinking yuuji n them are around 17 and sukuna is 2 years older ( i would make the age gap wider to account for canon but i feel like any older and sukuna wouldn't be caught dead playing in his little brother's band)

it /is/ technically yuuji's band, he /was/ the one who started it even though sukuna would argue that he's the one funding the whole thing and nobara would argue that she's the one organizing and promoting every one of their gigs and megumi would argue that he constantly loses sleep writing mixing and producing their songs,, they all love yuuji tho so they go along and let him put his name on it

don't think too hard about how sukuna, 19, makes enough to fund a band . wholesome legal stuff, promise

yuuji's current guitar is a hand me down from sukuna after he had saved up enough to splurge on the double necked monstrosity he has currently. because they were strapped for cash growing up, for years yuuji played on a beginner kid's size electric guitar that sukuna (serial music snob) couldn't stand the sound of and may or may not have violently smashed before tsundere-ly shoving his old guitar into yuuji's hands.

that being the case, sukuna thinks what yuuji has done to his old guitar is atrocious bc he's the type to take /meticulous/ care of his instruments. we're talking regular tune ups, wax, mods, the works. man carries spare strings and a microfibre cloth on him at all times just in case and Will Not let yuuji near his gear because yuuji is a hurricane of a boy and has dropped and broken his equipment more times than any of them care to count . they do however make a game out of placing bets as to what he'll knock over during practice

yuuji usually does lead vocals because his energy is quite frankly contagious and he's a natural at working a crowd . Sukuna sings backup vocal but there are a handful of songs where they switch and he sings lead and those songs are . hm . a very different vibe ! and some of their most successful releases much to his brother's chagrin

megumi had always noticed and admired sukuna's voice and thought it would be a waste not to give him a lead vocal part so he was originally the one to offer to collaborate with sukuna to write a few songs more tailored to his style ,, yuuji felt a bit snuffed but couldn't deny that megumi had a point so he agreed to take a back seat

once sukuna had gotten a taste for the spotlight and saw the stream count on the songs he led he and yuuji started bickering a lot more over who gets to take over lead vocals. they've tried duets before and it's simply out of the question so instead they fight over megumi to get him to write for one of them. it still usually ends up being yuuji which irks sukuna but he's placated by how explosive the reaction is when he /does/ get a song to himself

megumi can also sing !!! he's really good !!!!except he's shy and stubborn and won't do it in front of others. he once drunkenly admitted that he has a secret folder on his laptop full of audio files of himself singing unreleased songs and they (mostly nobara) haven't let him forget it and pester him relentlessly to let them listen. he will not because his songs are emo and sappy and pining and definitely not about yuuji

this is MY brainrot so this au is not immune to pining megumi x oblivious yuuji. one time yuuji kept inviting a girl he liked to their rehearsals and megumi's mood would get so sour that most days they had to call practice early and the ensuing show was one of their worst performances ever because their practices had been so unproductive. nobara is 95% sure she knows what was up but in the interest of keeping megumi in the band she kept her mouth shut ((she did admonish yuuji afterwards that no more outside spectators were allowed at practice no matter how hot he thinks they are))

in the days leading up to their first ever show yuuji was an anxious wreck to the point where the rest of them were legitimately concerned for his health but completely at a loss as to what they could do to help. megumi's love language is Not words of affirmation so instead he got yuuji a new set of audio cables accompanied by a note that read "good luck -M" to help ease his nerves. yuuji keeps the note taped to his guitar

megumi and nobara can both play piano and alternate covering the keyboard parts if a song requires it. (((megumi is a lot better at it which annoys nobara but she attributes the skill difference to his "freakishly long fingers and perfect pitch, which is basically cheating anyway")))

nobara gives the boys hell for making her play manager most of the time but she honestly thrives when a gig is coming up and she gets to order them around and use sukuna's credit card to book photoshoots and print promotional materials and buy them new outfits to match the concept

everyone but sukuna dreads the aforementioned shopping days. yuuji is a chronic protag who just wants to sing with his friends and megumi thinks coordinated outfits are frivolous and a waste of time . sukuna however /loves/ the visual aspect of performing because he's a dramatic bitch and wants to make sure they leave an impression. he and nobara are a force to be reckoned with and megumi and yuuji fight for their lives when they bust out the eyeliner

gojo is in this au because i guess he has to be smh i am never free -_- he was megumi's old music teacher and he runs the studio they rent out ("friends and family discount for my favourite student! aren't i kind, megumi-chan?") and they're pretty sure he's famous overseas or a retired star or something because whenever he comes to their shows there's a flood of paparazzi and tabloids that he miraculously manages to avoid??? they have no idea how he does it but they're happy to leech off the publicity

#jjk band!au #i have more don't tempt me take this away from me #hina.txt

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