#had to change the last one to be outside the theatre so we are on the right side | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sc0tters · 18 days ago

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A Helping Hand | Jack Hughes & Trevor Zegras

summary: when the boys learn that you've never finished, it's only right that they change that for you.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, threesome, oral (f & m receiving!), unprotected sex, fingering, swearing, mentions of drinking.

word count: 7.02k

authors note: is it really a trevor and jack threesome from me, without @sweetestdesire's help? no, no it is not... all jokes aside though this may be the dirtiest piece that I have ever written? like i embraced my inner slut, whore and everything inbetween while writing this so I do hope that you enjoy it! I know I did so we may end up with the first series of the year with this one!

Nobody truly remembered how you all got there.

Sat around the camp fire with a blanket thrown over your legs and a beer in your hand.

It was these little moments at the lake house that you adored so much. Luke was in the chair next to you, allowing you to send him the occasional whisper after the boys did something stupid.

Tonight was one of those nights as Cole managed to convince the group to play never have I ever, after Quinn’s suggestion of truth or dare was quickly shot down by Jack reminder of how he had to go skinny dipping in the lake. When the boys stole his clothes and locked him outside, it was the first and last time truth or dare made an appearance at the lake house.

You sighed thinking to yourself of a question“never have I ever done the walk of shame.” It was a good one to get most of the guys to drop a finger as Luke had told you about many of their escapades throughout their careers.

A while left Trevor’s lips “that one isn’t fair!” He grumbled dropping another finger leaving him with only two up.

Alex looked at the group of girls that had joined you guys as he had found one he wanted to make a move on “never have I ever faked an orgasm.” The boy swore he was going to do a dance of happiness when he saw the blonde one he had been talking to, keep her finger up whilst the first around her thought about their answers.

Your finger went down hoping that someone else would have a much more interesting story to share than you “are you seriously telling me that your little football player boyfriend was shit in bed?” Trevor asked as he let out a laugh seeing your cheeks turn a shade of red.

Jack turned to you, matching his friend’s curious expression “who is to say it was even with him?” It was something he had never even wondered about before, but now everyone’s eyes were on you as most of the people around that fire knew of your entire love life “she does not need to answer if she doesn’t want to.” Quinn sent you a friendly smile, Luke nodded in agreement with this being something that he didn’t even know about.

You let out a sigh of relief “yeah why don’t we move on?” There was a pleading sense in your voice that made everyone accept your request.

Well almost everyone, as the night went on and people went home or to bed. You were left with Trevor, Jack and Luke “you want another beer?” Luke asked as he got up with his empty beer bottle “please.” You nodded, the older two boys giving the same response.

This was the first opportunity that they got to truthfully ask the question that plagued their minds all night “so was it Jake?” Trevor blurted out as he turned his attention to you “what about the theatre kid before him?” Jack truthfully never liked that one, thankfully he only lasted one summer.

You toyed with your bracelet “if I tell you do you promise to keep it to yourselves?” If it got out you knew half of the people there would never look at you the same.

Hell you weren’t even sure if Trevor and Jack would see you the same way again “we will not tell a soul.” They both nodded at the same time, practically sat on the edges of their seats.

You let out a sigh, rubbing your lips together “it was all of them.” Those words made them freeze “you faked it with every single guy you’ve been with?” Jack let out a shocked laugh when you nodded.

Trevor felt confused “I didn’t realise you were with such shit guys.” Some of the guys had notable reputations too “it wasn’t their faults-” you tried to give them some grace within the situation.

But Jack was having none of it “if you have to fake it then it is on him.” Of course that’s what he’d say, the man prided himself on how good he was in bed after all. You had been privy to hearing the mutters through the wall when you stayed over to see Luke.

The Ducks player nodded in agreement “we won’t tell them if you think they were shit.” He added wanting so desperately to hear more of this “it’s me okay!” Your words suddenly made them both go quiet.

Their eyes went wide “I can’t cum so when I have sex I have to fake it.” Your voice was quieter as you didn’t know where Luke was “and before you ask yes I know my body is clearly broken-” you were cut off by the sound of the sliding door opening from the house.

Luke walked out with the four beers in his hands “what is broken?” The three of you looked like kids caught with your hands in the cookie jar in that very moment “oh just the door of my closet in the apartment.” You quickly recovered, it wasn’t a lie. In fact, it was actually something you needed to fix.

He stared at you for a moment before he nodded “wait until I visit and I can help you.” Luke offered making you nod “sounds like a plan.” You sent him a smile, ignoring the conversation that you had just had with the boys.

It seemed that even if you were able to sleep soundly amongst all of Luke’s snoring, Jack and Trevor were plagued with thoughts. Neither one could fall asleep as they sat there thinking about what you had said.

How was it that a girl like you could have a problem that seemed so unbreakable?

“Just so we’re both on the same page, she clearly has a shit taste in guys right?” Trevor blurted out as he stared at the ceiling “I mean it has to be that right?” He added not even sure if Jack was listening.

Jack let out a harsh sigh “but how is she going got accept that?” He rolled over knowing that he shared the same thoughts “well I mean there is one way we could do it.” Trevor trailed off figuring, that it was the should have been obvious.

The Hughes boy let out a laugh “yeah like she’s ever gonna go for that.” He shook his head rolling over to look out the window as he tried to force himself to go to sleep.

A party echoed out in the yard, music blared through the speakers as you made your way upstairs “I’m telling you that she’s not going to go for it.” Jack pinched the bridge of his nose as he chugged back the remainder of his beer “why not?” Trevor whined crossing his arms.

He took in a large amount of air in when he sighed “it’s not like she exactly has any other better options than sticking to never coming.” Those words made you freeze in front of their door. Why were they talking about you, and what was their potential option to help you?

Your cheeks grew warm when your mind began to travel “because you think little miss perfect is gonna fuck the two of us to prove that she just has a shit taste in boys?” Those words made you scoff, it was a response that was a little louder than you had hoped when the boys went quiet “shit.” Jack was quick to open the door.

Both of them were visibly relieved to see it was just you “care to join us?” Jack smirked at the sight of the irritated expression on your face “I am not little Miss Perfect.” You announced sticking your finger in his face.

It was the response he wanted, knowing you had taken the bait “so why don’t you give us a chance then?” Trevor spoke up from behind the younger boy who nodded in agreement.

Your fists clenched into balls “over my dead body.” You were embarrassed as you stormed off in the direction of your room “on a scale of one to ten how badly do you think we fucked up?” Trevor asked hearing the door slam behind you.

Jack sucked at his teeth “I would lean closer to ten.” He nodded thinking about what would happen if Luke were to find out about what was said.

The night had grown dark as you tried to push the boys comments back to the bottom of your mind. It was something that so negatively failed, especially when you began to picture those two.

You had ended up in the bathroom having a shower trying to calm yourself down at first “fuck!” You grumbled letting your fingers thrust into your cunt as the steam stuck to your skin.

Your body had started to shrivel like a prune due to how long you had been in there. Your body was hot as the image of Jack and Trevor lingered on your mind, picturing how they’d kiss you and morph your body in the ways they wanted to use you. You weren’t an idiot, if they were talking about you then it was clearly a competition in their minds.

The peaks of your nipples throbbed as this clearly wasn’t working. Defeat wasn’t something that you accept gracefully, and that’s why you muttered to yourself as you grabbed one of Luke’s shirts and threw it on. Bringing your panties up your legs as you sent Luke one last look, as if you were checking that he was indeed asleep.

You had to try to be quiet as you knew that everyone else was in there room, and with the minimal amounts of chatter that came from Quinn’s room when he spoke to his girlfriend on the phone. It was the timezones that caused him to be awake, but you knew you couldn’t be certain about the other rooms “shit.” You grumbled landing at Trevor and Jacks door to see that there room was empty. Their beds were made with their sandals missing, which only meant that they were downstairs.

It was a lightbulb moment as you practically raced down using the banister as support. Chatter could be heard from outside and that’s where they were “pass me the blunt.” Jack’s voice was soft, muffled by the glass.

Your feet brought you up to the door as you sighed knowing that beyond this moment if you wanted to turn back, you wouldn’t be able to “do my eyes deceive me or is little Miss Perfect stood in front of me?” Trevor teased, using the nickname that Jack had as his eyes drank in the sight of you.

Jack could sense you were nervous “why don’t you come take a hit?” He offered holding the blunt in your direction “don’t know how.” You shook your head, making him smirk.

Of course, weed was something you hadn’t dabbled in, how were they not surprised “I’ll teach ya.” Jack patted his thigh as he spread his legs open for you to sit there.

He held the joint between his ring and pointer fingers when you sat down “just suck the air in but don’t inhale it.” The middle Hughes boy knew that you weren’t exactly some chain smoker so he had to help you.

You nodded as you followed his instructions when he brought the blunt to your lips. Both boys watched on when Jack let his hand travel up the inside of her thigh “there we go.” He cooed until you let out a cough.

It made them softly laugh when you shook your head “never doing that again.” You announced assuming that it would have done something to calm the nerves that ran through your veins.

Jack brought the blunt to his lips “what brought you down here?” He asked looking at his watch, you were usually fast asleep “I couldn’t sleep.” You confessed wanting sigh when you felt the breeze brush past you.

Trevor smiled at your words “anything particular that brought the late shower on?” It was clear that your hair was still wet as it drenched the back of the shirt that you made into a dress “do you think you guys can really fix me?” The words made the two boys freeze.

It wasn’t something that they thought you would come around to “because if I have to spend another fucking unsatisfactory night with fingers between my thighs I’m going to shoot someone.” Jack let out a soft laugh hearing your confession.

He smiled bringing his lips to your cheek to kiss “you gonna be a good girl for us?” He quizzed you, circling his thumb on the inside of your thigh “let us break you?” He added which made you whimper in response.

Trevor almost felt jealous at how far away he was from you “why don’t we move this inside?” His proposal made your head snap in his direction. You seemed to sense where the boy came from “c’mon pretty girl.” Jack patted your thigh signalling to you to get up.

Jack had never been more grateful for the fact that he picked a room downstairs, which you at the moment seemed to so happily run into “c’mere.” Trevor shut the door behind him.

He brought his hands up to cup your cheeks. A grin plastered on his face as your head tilted in his direction so that he could kiss you. There present taste of beer mixed with the weed on his tongue that he dragged over your lower lip. A moan escaped your lips as Jack placed his hands on your hips “didn’t forget about you too.” you confessed, turning your head so that you could kiss him too.

It was rougher when Trevor turned his attention to your neck. His kisses were hungry as he sucked at the skin “n-no marks.” You gasped not wanting to worry about covering more than your bikinis already did.

Jack finally took a step back as he looked at you “why don’t you show us how you normally try to get off?” Jack’s fingers danced over the hem of Luke’s shirt that hung over your knee.

Trevor nodded in agreement “doll, it ain’t like we don’t see those pathetic bikinis you wear.” His words were sharp, making you listen as you took a step back, “like you want us to know what is under ‘em.” He added, allowing his eyes to burn your skin.

The boys watched in awe as your fingers gripped at the ends of the shirt, you took in a deep breath in like it was meant to give you some newfound confidence. The room grew warmed as you pulled the white t-shirt off of your body, letting it fall onto the floor when you now stood in just a white thong. They both stood in silence, causing you to bite at your lip with your confidence immediately wavering.

You were quick to reach down wanting to grab the shirt, assuming that the boys thought this was a mistake or that you weren’t as pretty as they thought you’d be “let us get a good look at ya.” Trevor’s hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you from leaning over any further.

A whistle left his lips when you stood up straight “never thought these tits could ever have looked better than when they were in those bikinis.” His voice was a low growl, letting his fingers cup at your breasts before he gave them a squeeze.

The feeling made a moan get caught in your throat “god imagine what she’s hiding under those panties?” Trevor turned to Jack, not letting his hands move from your boobs that his thumbs began to massage.

Possibilities felt endless “you wanna let us see?” Jack asked making you nod. Trevor kissed at your neck whilst you locked your fingers into the sides of your panties.

The fabric brushed against your skin when Trevor looked down to see your bare mound “don’t know how any of those boyfriends of yours used to let you leave them.” He sighed pressing a kiss against your cheek.

Jack nodded in agreement “if we had a say you’d always be around ready for us.” Those words made you squirm and force your thighs together.

Neither one of them were an idiot, easily sensing the effect they had on you “can you sit on the bed for me sweet girl?” Jack cooed tilting your jaw up to him so that he could kiss you.

That kiss helped settle some of your nerves as you nodded. You sat on the edge of Jacks bed “higher.” Trevor motioned to you to move higher up the bed.

You drove your hips up until you got sat in the middle of his bed “now why don’t you show us how you get off?” After all that was the entire reason that you were there so it made sense they watched you first.

When you lay down on the bed the boys looked at you like you were the sight for sore eyes “c’mon you can show us.” Trevor’s voice oozed this sense of cockiness as he motioned to you to start, brushing those waves of uncertainty aside.

Your heels pushed up to your ass as you spread your lefs open, seeing the boys stare back at you “need to make it wet.” You whimpered feeling Jack kneel into the bed.

He took two of his fingers to spread your folds open, saliva pooled in his mouth before he let his spit fall onto your cunt. It ran down your clit making you squirm “that enough?” Jack asked standing back up straight as you nodded.

You brought your fingers down your stomach and to your slit. The two fingers rubbed over your sensitive nub making the boy’s pants grow tight, your fingers travelled to your cunt as you let them thrust into the hole. The pace you used seemed to be a happy medium using Jack’s spit as some kind of lube that let your fingers create a squelching sound.

Jack felt his throat grow tight “you think that you add another finger?” He could see how your eyes stuck on his now-formed boner “you want some encouragement?” The boy smirked when you nodded.

Neither one hesitated to drop their pants as they pulled their cocks out of their boxers “can’t fit.” You shook your head watching as your mouth watered seeing them palm their members.

Trevor sucked at his teeth “know you can do it.” He encouraged but still that didn’t seem to be enough.

Your free hand went up to cup your boob, going tease your nipple that had been throbbing since it felt the cool air of Jack’s room “need help.” You pleaded, only ever having two fingers in your hole. Even the guys you dated seemed to stop at two, thinking that it was the perfect number.

Jack took his precum over the head of his cock as he rubbed it down his length “why don’t you pick who.” If he had it his way he wouldn’t have even given Trevor a chance to get you first.

When your eyes didn’t leave the Devils players it seemed your answer was written on the walls “no hard feels right?” He smirked tucking his cock back into boxers before he joined you on the bed.

You sat up letting your back rest against his headboard “gonna relax f’me okay?” Jack asked watching you pull your own fingers from your cunt “okay.” You nodded letting your eyes shut when his thumb circled your clit.

In the beginning he opted to start easy, with two fingers it was only slightly bigger than what you could fit in yourself “shit.” You whimpered letting your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

His fingers grazed the spongey area of your cunt “uh huh baby want to hear you.” Jack kissed at your neck wanting to hear you scream “feels good.” You confessed making him nod.

Jack pressed these opened-mouthed kisses on your jaw as he felt you clench around him “you see how hard you make him?” The Hughes boy turned his eyes to Trevor who palmed his cock at an even quicker pace “feel how hard you make me?” Jack brought your hand with his free one over his boxers.

You took the time to feel his hard appendage and with that, Jack slid a third finger into your cunt “fuck!” Your toes curled at the new sensation.

Jack lowered his head to your boob letting his lips wrap around your nipple “right there.” Your head rested against the cool wood behind you.

His fingers felt every inch of you, the way your cunt clenched around his digits that attacked your needy hole “think you should get her clit Z.” Jack’s words made you whimper as you saw the boy’s swollen red tip look desperate for more of your attention “such a pretty girl ain’t she?” Trevor nodded, joining you on the other side of the bed.

But he didn’t take the liberty of tucking himself away as he let his fingers tap on your lower lip “and a good listener too huh?” He teased watching your mouth suck at his fingers.

He was forced to pull them out, not wanting to get too carried away “don’t stop.” There was a feeling you had never felt as Jack curled his fingers in this come hither motion. Trevor added to it letting his fingers drop down between Jacks hand and your clit. His calloused fingers were rough “fuck!” You called out watching Trevor drop his face to your chest.

The boy clicked his tongue “look at this poor fucking tit all ignored.” He sighed not giving you a chance to respond as he too wrapped his lips around your other nipple.

Looking down it was a sight of dreams as each boy sucked at your nipples, working in tandem on your clit and your cunt “I feel funny.” You confessed making them both look at each other.

It was encouragement for them to increase the pace of their fingers as Trevor rubbed your clit faster and Jack increased the pace of his thrusts “I think I’m gonna.” You trailed off with wide eyes as your body began to shake not sure if the pleasure was coming from your nipples, clit or cunt, or even a mixture of all three.

Jack made a muffled grunt against your nipple that sent you over the edge, your face scrunched your face up letting your head jolt. Your cunt clenched around Jacks fingers as your body didn’t stop squirming. The boys didn’t stop there though as they brought you through your orgasm.

The Hughes boy let his fingers begin to slow as your release didn’t seem to grow any sloppier around his digits “shit baby.” Jack let your nipple drop from his mouth with a pop. Your chest heaved as you nodded enough.” You whimpered feeling them retract their fingers away from you as Trevor finally let your other breast go.

Trevor and Jack looked at the sight that you were in front of them “why don’t you taste yourself.” Jack offered his fingers bringing them into your mouth “so you can remember your first orgasm.” He added as Trevor had a devilish look in his eyes.

You went to turned your attention to the other boy whilst still sucking on Jacks fingers “I want a proper taste.” Trevor announced settling in between your legs.

Your body was still sensitive and Jack was able to pick upon that “hey pretty girl.” His voice was soft, his fingers gripped at your jaw turning your head in his direction.

His eyes caught yours “don’t worry about him right now?” Jack reassured you as Trevor kissed at your thigh “you want to still feel so good right?” Trevor asked wrapping his arm around your thigh when he blew against your cunt.

The sensation made you squirm “please.” You nodded switching your gaze between both boys “a guy ever eaten this pretty cunt before?” Trevor ran his finger down your slit when he pressed a kiss against your other thigh.

Jack focused his lips against the hollow of your collarbone “none.” But that wasn’t to say that you never wanted it, the guys you were with just wanted it to be you who went down on them “can’t believe you fucking thought you were the problem.” Jack clicked his tongue watching your eyes stick on Trevor.

The boy mindlessly stared at your cunt, like he had never seen something so glorious “kiss?” You pleaded looking at Jack who couldn’t help but nod at you.

His fingers gripped at your jaw as he started kissing you slowly at first. Trevor felt his cock throb watching the scene unfold in front of him. Jacks tongue ended up in your mouth and the Ducks player decided he couldn’t be the only one not having any fun.

Trevor wrapped his other arm around your bare thigh, allowing your feet to settle on his shoulder blades “fucking hell.” His voice barely above a whisper before his head dropped against your cunt.

His mouth latched over your clit first making you moan into Jacks mouth “such a sweet cunt.” Trevor moaned sending shivers up your spine. The boy let his tongue travel to your weeping hole, his nose grazed your clit as he thrusted his tongue in against your walls.

Your head fell back as Jack looked down “be a good girl and look at how good Z his making you feel.” He sucked at your earlobe making you whimper.

Trevor’s eyes locked onto yours, his arms slightly loosened around your legs allowing you to drive your hips close to him “fuck z.” You moaned feeling Jack cup your tits once again “Jacky you’re missing out here.” Trevor confessed placing his thumb on your clit before he went back to fucking you with his tongue.

Your eyes screwed shut as you felt Jack softly laugh against your skin “don’t have to worry because we’ve got plenty more in ya.” He looked at you through his devilishly long lashes “don’t we baby?” Jack asked as he sucked at your jaw.

Silence swallowed you up when pleasure lulled in your ears. Trevor had been paying attention which made him scoff “he asked you a question doll.” The boy cupped his hand as he lay a smack against your cunt.

The movement made you jolt when your eyes burst open “ahh,” you whimpered almost folding your body over “‘m sorry.” You apologised letting your lips form a pout.

Trevor accepted the apology as he continued. He pressed a kiss against your clit “we just want you to be a good girl.” He sighed licking a stripe down your slit.

Your thighs tensed around his head “because we don’t have to punish you then.” Your cunt clenched around his tongue as it lolled back into your hole “just wanna make you feel so good tonight.” Jack confessed going back to kissing your lips as you quickly became like a drug to him.

There was the slightest scent of your perfume that was still on your skin that invaded his nostrils “please.” You nodded practically feeling like a brand new woman as the boys focused on you.

Jack nodded running his fingers over your collarbone “c’mon sweet girl.” Jack cooed as you bit at your lip “you let this house hear you or else we’re gonna stop.” He warned squeezing your cheeks in his hand.

Trevor pulled his tongue from your entrance before he let it lay flat running against your clit “seems like little miss perfect wants that.” Trevor taunted latching his lips around the sensitive nub.

Jack gasped toying with your nipple between his fingers “you want Lukey to see what we are doing to his best friend?” The image made your voice quiver “h-he can’t.” You whimpered shaking your head.

The boy between your thighs smirked “shame to keep this pretty pussy a secret.” Trevor sighed pressing a kiss against your clit “when she’s all soaked for us, it’s better to keep it our think no?” Jack asked pressing a wet kiss against your throat when you arched your back.

The Ducks player let his tongue swirl around your sensitive nub, creating a healthy rhythm that caused your thighs to squeeze against his head “all for you.” You nodded with your voice turning breathy, almost angelic to the duo.

Those words went straight to the boys cocks that they were still so desperate to just let burst out, letting it soak your skin “can’t believe you tried to act like you were too good for us.” Jack pinched at your side making you jolt “I’m sorry.” You cried, your throat feeling raw as your heels pushed against Trevor’s shoulder blades.

Jack smiled raking his fingers through your hair “‘s okay.” He mumbled pecking your lips “all that matters is that you’re here now.” Jack kissed you harder that time when your nails dug into his thigh.

Trevor let his lips go from your clit as you whimpered not aware of how that hurt him more to stop than you could have known “please she’s been wanting to be a dumb little slut for us.” Trevor’s words were rough as he thrusted his fingers into your cunt.

His were longer than Jacks but they weren’t as smooth either “please.” You begged clenching your walls around his digits “please what?” Trevor softly bit that the inside of your thigh.

Your eyes almost rolled back into your head while Jack kissed at your shoulder “make me cum.” You whined wanting nothing more than to feel the high you felt earlier on “how can I say no to that.” Trevor clicked his tongue as he went back to sucking at your clit.

His fingers did this scissoring motion stretching you out around him. The squelching noises echoed against the walls of the room, mixing with the sounds of your moans that slipped through Jacks kisses “such a spoilt girl ain’t ya.” Jack saw the sweat that formed on your stomach.

You nodded whimpering against him “want you to cum really good for him okay?” Those words made your toes curl as the coil tightened in your stomach “can I?” You nodded not knowing it was possible for you to do it again.

Trevor nodded refusing to slow down his thrusts as he grinded his hips into the bed beneath him. Words left your lips in a shaky chant “please fuck please.” You begged squirming as he didn’t relent running his tongue over your clit.

You huffed shaking your head “c’mon sweet girl you can let go.” Jack egged you on kissing your lips, swallowing the moans from your mouth.

Your legs shook when Trevor fingered you through your high, your release coating his fingers when the coil snapped in your stomach “shit, holy shit.” Your chest heaved letting your fingers tug at Trevor’s hair to pull him off of you.

His fingers dropped from your cunt went you kissed him. Your release shone on his chin “fuck.” Trevor moaned feeling your tongue brush against his, your walls clenched around nothing as you knew it was the taste of your pussy on his tongue.

Jack grunted from beside you as you turned back to look at him. There was a smile on your lips “you ready for one more?” He asked pushing your hair out of your face when you nodded.

It made Trevor laugh “of course she is.” He mumbled tugging at the hair on the nape of your neck so that he could kiss you again. You felt as if the wind was knocked out of you with the amount of passion in it.

A moan escaped from your lips “wanna taste you.” Your confession made his cock throb “how can I say no when a little slut asks me so nicely?” He nodded cupping your jaw as he smiled.

Jack gripped at your sides “gonna let me fuck you while he does that?” Those words made you nod.

You weren’t entirely sure how it happened but before you knew it Jack was on the end of the bed with his legs hanging over. You were hovering over his hips and of course Trevor stood over you, taking in the sight that you were through your thick eyelashes “remember when you thought you were too good to entertain us?” Trevor taunted you like those words hadn’t been spoken mere hours ago.

You nodded feeling Jack kiss your shoulder blade “well I think it’s time you give us an apology for being such a fucking brat.” His words were harsh as Jack dragged the head of his cock against your clit “I’m sorry Trevor.” Jacks hand held your hip stopping you from sinking into his cock.

Trevor laughed shaking his head “you gotta do a whole lot better than that.” His fingers brushed through your hair “and that’s gonna start with you getting on his dick okay?” You were eager to please them both.

Jack let out a grunt “condom?” He asked when your head leaned against his shoulder “on the pill.” Your words made him gasp finally letting your cunt sink down on his cock.

The ducks player smirked watching how your jaw went slack “shit this cunt is-wow.” Jack let his teeth gnaw at your shoulder blade.

Neither one of you moved, taking the chance let your walls stretch around his cock. Trevor palmed himself watching how your eyes screwed shut enjoying how the boy felt inside of you “gonna have to try it one day too.” He nodded as you finally started lifting yourself up against Jack “you ready f’me to fuck you huh?” Jack asked, your head bobbed with your one hand resting on his thigh your nails digging into his skin.

Jacks blue orbs burnt into the back of your head “this cunt is so perfect god.” He barked wrapping his one arm around your waist to keep your back flush against his chest “don’t stop.” The Devils player drunk in your whimpers while you squirmed.

He adjusted his legs so that you had spread yours around his. Letting the feelings of pleasure soak over you, not sure how much more of him you could actually take. A grunt came from in front of you, reminding you that it wasn’t just you and Jack in that room.

Trevor’s precum oozed out of his cock and you swore you could see a smirk on his face when your mouth watered “you wanna suck my cock?” He asked watching you nodded.

His breath grew short when you used your tongue to spread his liquid around his length “shit this mouth is-” Trevor cut himself off as you took more of his cock in your mouth.

His fingers messily tugged at your hair forming a loose pony at the back of your head, encouraging you to work his cock between your lips “you want more?” He asked seeing how you looked up at him through your eyelashes.

Jack had settled into a rhythm he liked unintentionally knocking your hand off of him. This cause you to reach out at Trevor’s thighs “fuck.” Both boys spoke through gritted teeth as Trevor’s cock hit your throat causing tears to spill from your eyes when you clenched around Jacks cock.

The ducks player watched how you worked your tongue on the underside of his length “don’t stop pretty girl.” He nodded hearing the squelching of your cunt as Jack fucked you “yeah sweets we wanna use you proper.” Jack cooed gripping at your hip, pinching at the skin.

You moaned around Trevor almost toppling him over “think you like the idea of us using you.” His words were full of desire, fantasies forming in his mind wanting to go through with them in that moment.

Sweat stuck to your skin, turning you into a whimper mess “god you’re such a cock hungry slut.” Trevor muttered tugging at your hair eliciting another moan from your lips

The sensation made his eyes screw shut “fuck I’m gonna cum.” Trevor response was mangled, Jack started chasing his own high that was quickly approaching when he heard that message “you gonna let me make a mess in this pretty little mouth of yours?” He brought his one hand forward from your hair.

His thumb brushed against your cheek “mhm.” Tears streamed down your cheeks while your eyes darted up to his.

Trevor’s movements increased fucking your face as if you were his own hand. He took that moment before he became undone. His hand held you in place so his release hit the back of your throat all at once.

Your throat gagged at the new sensation causing his cock to twitch before he went lax letting go of your hair. You hollowed out your cheeks as you let your lips swallow every last drop of what had been on his skin cleaning him up in the process.

Gasps escaped from your lips causing droplets of his release to drip out of the side of your mouth “don’t go making a mess now.” Trevor clicked his tongue catching it with his thumb before he brought it into your mouth.

Your lips wrapped around his digit swirling your tongue around it like it was his cock all over again “fuck I’m gonna make a mess in this pussy.” Jack announced feeling that he was close.

His pace turned animalistic and if Trevor wasn’t in front of you, you swore you would have fallen over “such a tight cunt.” The boy moaned with his eyes glued to the way your folds swallowed his cock.

Trevor felt himself grow hard again “such a pretty little cock drunk slut ain’t ya?” He asked watching your eyes grow glassy “yeah.” You cried hearing how your thighs slapped against Jack with every thrust of his cock.

He almost felt as if he could feel your guts he was so deep, touch places you didn’t even know were in you “needed you both so bad.” You were surprised you were able to form a coherent sentence “knew you were always gonna be so desperate for us.” Trevor almost laughed watching your head bob as you nodded along.

Your mouth watered seeing how his cock still oozed while his hand ran along the underside of it “you wanna feel this too pretty girl?” It was almost the sweetest thing he had said that night.

It seemed to throw you off as you chewed at your lip sensing you were close “or maybe we should stop until this little slut remembers how to talk.” The threat held no weight as Jack was far too close with your walls squeezing his cock to let you off of him, but that wasn’t something that you considered “please Z.” Your moan sounded like you were a pornstar letting the whimpers of desperation escape from your throat.

Trevor crouched down pumping his cock once more before he let the head sit in your clit “shit doll you like that?” Jack asked feeling you clench around him “so good.” You nodded letting your head fall against his shoulder.

The sight was something Trevor swore should have been in the Louvre. His cock dragged over your clit matching the pace of Jacks thrusts. The Hughes boy was desperate to get you to cum first because he knew that the moment he finish he was a goner.

Trevor begun to kiss at your throat which he now had the perfect spot to do as such “go on.” Trevor mumbled sucking at your sweet skin “make a mess on Jacky boys cock.” Your breathy gasps filled the room as your eyes screwed shut.

Jack grunted from behind you “yeah baby make a mess for me.” Between Jacks cock fucking you senseless, Trevor’s cock against your clit and now both boys marking up your throat you were done.

You shuttered out a cry while your face contorted letting tears fall from your shut eyes as your orgasm ripped through you. Neither boy stopped what they were doing, wanting to guide you through your orgasm “shit shit so good!” Jack sputtered out feeling your cunt clench around him.

His eyes practically rolled back into his head as his cock shot warm sticky ropes of release into your cunt “fucking hell.” Trevor softly laughed against your throat when the younger boy lulled his thrusts before he kissed your shoulder.

Your chest heaved trying to catch your breath you lay against Jack slowly coming back to, before you softly clenched around him remembering that he was still there “you with us baby?” Jack asked brushing your hair out of your face.

You nodded gripping onto Trevor’s arm to help yourself up “damn.” Jack mumbled looking down at where you had been sat. A mix of your release and Jacks oozed out of your cunt and down the inside of your thigh as you used Trevor to support you.

Trevor’s eyes followed Jacks before he let out a soft gasp “you know you could do that?” His hand squeezed at your hip before he set you on the bed next to the devils player.

You shook your head “do what?” You asked growing confused “this broken girl just squirted.” Trevor scooped the release that had fallen before he thrusted his fingers into your cunt once more “we can’t have you forgetting about this now can we?” He asked watching your hand try to wrap around his wrist to stop him.

Jack smirked seeing how you dropped back onto the bed, allowing your face to contort as you felt with a mix of pleasure and overstimulation “silly girl this summer is only just getting started.” The devils player nipped at your ear knowing that you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Because here is to the summer you’ll never forget.

#amber writes fics #jack hughes smut #trevor zegras smut #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagines #trevor zegras x you #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagines #jack hughes oneshots #nhl smut #nhl imagine #hockey smut #hockey imagine #threes0me

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multifandomfanfic · 2 months ago

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Meeting and Falling in Love with the Easy Company Boys (x f!reader)

A/N: These headcanons are my Secret Santa gift for the wonderful @hxad-ovxr-hxart (for @hbowardaily!'s yearly exchange)! I hope you enjoy them—this is the first thing I’ve ever made for Band of Brothers, despite being such a big fan. I had a lot of fun writing them! (BTW, I haven't watched BOB for a good six months, so I struggled a little with remembering what Talbert was like. I hope I did him justice.)

Characters: Joe Toye, Bull Randleman, Ronald Speirs, Joe Liebgott, Floyd Talbert

Joe Toye

This man is my short king (there is no way he is 5'10")

He may seem tough on the outside, especially toward his friends, but I know he would be the most caring person in the world to you. I mean, he broke out of the hospital in Bastogne to rejoin Easy Company–can you imagine what else he would do?

I figure you two would meet while he was in the hospital in Bastogne or after Market Garden. You would be doing your daily rounds, changing bandages and making beds when you come to him. He immediately thinks you’re the most beautiful girl he has ever seen, and thanks his lucky stars he ended up in your section.

He keeps requesting to see you, whether it’s under the guise of needing more medicine or needing someone to write his letters home for him (God, he thinks your handwriting is so pretty). It gets so tiring that your supervisor automatically sends you whenever he has an issue.

Of course, in an army hospital, there isn’t much Joe can do to try and be romantic, especially with a hundred other men needing your undivided attention. But he makes do with his pure charm and charisma, good looks, and maybe some candies he wrote home for. He makes sure to show you his brass knuckles and his plans to celebrate Joe Toye Day.

“Say, Y/N, when this war is over, how do you say we go out to dinner together? My treat.” Despite being bedridden, Joe’s affability shines through for you. You can’t help but laugh.

“Sure, Sergeant. I’d love to.”

As the war progresses and Joe goes back to active duty, you two exchange dozens and dozens of letters. They persist even as you’re both transferred to the most gruesome areas of the European theatre. He doesn’t sugarcoat it for you, but his stories of his friends and back home manage to light up your days. And he could say the same for the perfume and red lip-sticked kisses you leave on your letters.

He asks you to marry him in one letter (which he tried to keep hidden from the other men, until George found it and spread the news to all of Easy Company), and you immediately write back with a resounding YES!

Suddenly, though, the flow of letters to you goes cold. It isn’t until a few weeks later that his mother writes to you: Joe had lost his leg in Bastogne and was recovering in a hospital in Atlantic City.

It was difficult getting through the latter months of the war knowing that an entire ocean separated you and Joe, but the letters and love continued. Once the war ended, you knew where you were going, and surprised him by his bedside in late May.

“This is like déjà vu,” Joe chuckled, looking at you with all the adoration he could muster. The sun was setting over the New Jersey skyline, and the last of the hospital visitors were shuffling out into the night.

“Except you’re not leaving me this time,” you smiled, squeezing this hand, “And I’m not changing your sheets.”

Bull Randleman

BULL BULL BULL BULL (sang to the tune of “Bill Nye the Science Guy”)

I already know Bull is a big softie; I mean, not only does he look like he gives the best hugs on this here Earth, but we already know he is one of the best NCOs in Easy Company.

I think you two would meet prior to D-Day at Aldbourne. You’re a Donut Dolly helping the Red Cross lift the men’s spirits, and boy, do you certainly lift one paratrooper’s spirits. Bull comes back to your Clubmobile on a regular basis, sometimes multiple times a day, even if it is just to chat.

Due to the Red Cross’ discouragement of Dollies having romantic relationships with servicemen, you can’t reciprocate the kind man’s feelings, despite how much you want to. However, it doesn’t go unnoticed that Bull gets his coffee and donuts for free whenever you’re working the station.

There’s an unmistakable tension in the air before D-Day, which inspires you to break the rules a little and accompany Bull to a local pub. Hours and a dozen endearing Southern phrases later, you are wrapped in his arms, dancing, as Glenn Miller plays on the jukebox.

“Thank you for this, doll,” Bull said, as you swayed in the middle of the dark pub. Several other Americans were there, trying to drown their fear away. They were aware you were a dolly, forbidden from socializing with Bull in such a way, but they knew the gravity of the situation, and would never say a word.

“Don’t say that, Bull. We’ll see each other again.”

A few days later, D-Day was in full swing, and the men you had spent the last months with were across the channel. However, you did not have to wait for Bull to come back for you, as you came to him. Within a week of the invasion, you and your clubmobile walked onto the Normandy beaches, footlocker in hand.

You can not imagine the look of surprise and joy on Bull’s face when your truck joined Easy Company outside of Ste. Mere-Eglise; witnesses say it was the only time his cigar ever fell out of his mouth.

Everyone knew you had a thing for each other, but the rules were the rules, and they were enforceable now. So, you had to exchange letters and glances in private, with conversations and hand-holding reserved for when no one was around.

When VE and VJ Days were finally declared, it was like a load off your shoulders. Your first “official” dates together include swimming and walking in the Austrian mountains, and enjoying the left-behind alcohol and cigars. And let's not forget those hugs!

(A/N: Can you tell I've had a fixation on WWII Clubmobiles recently?)

Ronald Speirs

This man actually scares me, but that’s ok.

Speirs’ infatuation with you definitely comes from a place of respect. You work somewhere on the frontlines, whether it’s as a nurse, photographer, or another paratrooper in an alternate universe. While he may not vocalize it, he really admires your drive and bravery.

You two are acquaintances, having known each other since the early days of the Normandy invasion. You brush shoulders once in a while, but to your disappointment, nothing seems to develop between the two of you. His lingering glances go unnoticed.

He wouldn’t outright approach you. You would begin to notice small things added to your rucksack or station: chocolate, money, pawned jewelry, clothes–an entire set of fine china once appeared on top of your footlocker. You had no idea where it was coming from, and several attempts to find your secret admirer were to no avail. Whoever he was, you thought, he must be the most caring man in the world; who else would go out of their way to give gifts to a woman they barely know?

Someone would notice something, though. All the rumors about Speirs’ cruelty led some men to have a heightened interest in him and his daily happenings. It would be Luz who finally sees him bring a stolen pair of heels into your tent and exit without them–all while you were out doing your job.

“Hey, Lieutenant? You got a moment?” Luz called out to his superior. He walked across the ruined town square to Speirs, who responded with nothing but a blank stare. He had been caught and by no one less than George Luz.

“What do you want, Sergeant?”

“Well, I just wanted to say…” Luz looked around, half-jokingly making sure there were witnesses, “If this leaving stuff in Y/N’s tent is an attempt to ‘woo’ her, you might want to leave a note. Or just talk to her. How else will you know it’s you leaving her gifts and not Major Winters or Lieutenant Dike?”

With that, Speirs immediately goes out to find you. From the outside, he may appear to have all the confidence in the world, but he can not fathom you thinking all the gifts he has left are from the man he replaced. Speirs spots you mailing something back home; he pulls you outside, away from the attendant, and confesses that he has been the one leaving you gifts because of the feelings he’s been harboring. You quickly embrace him, causing Luz to whoop and cheer, which is only stifled by Speirs’ scowling.

From then on, you become the “First Lady” of Dog and Easy Company. You’re untouchable. Most of the men will bend over backward for you to stay on Speirs’ “good side.” You are treated with the utmost respect and courtesy, and privy to all the going-ons of the division.

Toward the end of the war, Sgt. Grant is shot, and Speirs goes into full-blown protection mode. You accompany him as he locates the German doctor before initiating the manhunt for the soldier who shot Grant. You try to calm him down to the best of your abilities, but its no use. He hardly leaves your side after that night.

At the end of the war, Speirs decides to stay in the military, and despite the ups and downs that come with that, you stay with him. You celebrate with the rest of Easy Company as the men slowly start to return home with Speirs by your side. Not to be cliche, but you do live happily ever after, even if you’re never truly settled in one place.

Joe Liebgott

Call me David Webster, cause I would die for Joe Liebgott. He was my OG.

I think its safe to say that Liebgott is very tru cocky. I wouldn’t call it a superiority complex, perse, but he knows he’s good-looking and suave, and he’s confident enough to put it to good use. He can wine and dine any nurse and WAC he wants in a matter of moments. It’s a foolproof strategy; that is, until he sees you.

It’s Aldbourne, 1944, and he spots you in a pub while playing darts. He is immediately captivated by your looks, as even the drab green of your uniform manages to compliment them. He’s too busy staring at you and completely misses the target on his next throw. It costs him a pack of cigarettes, and you giggling at him, but man was it worth it.

You spend the evening huddled up together in a booth, him trying every one of his usual pick-up lines, and you shrugging them off like they’re nothing. It confuses Joe to no end that the one girl he wants doesn’t fall prey to his anecdotes. In reality, they do work, as you fall more and more in love with him throughout the night; you just want to hear him work for it.

He walks you back to your barracks, dizzy from infatuation (and dancing). You leave him with a peck on his cheek, and it's there he promises you will be the last girl he chases.

Before D-Day, Joe asks for a picture of you to keep during the war. You happily oblige, signing your love on the back of it with a kiss. He keeps it with him until the very end of the war and can not count the number of times he has shown you off someone else. By May, everyone in Easy knows what you look like.

Despite his addiction to Dick Tracy comics, Joe isn’t much of a poet, but this doesn’t keep him from writing to you daily. Sometimes the letters don’t contain more than an “I love you” or ramblings about how terrible his rations tasted or German lessons. Other times, they were more macabre, even though he attempts to sugarcoat things for you. Your favorite letters are when he describes life back home in California and everything he hopes to show you one day.

Obviously, the war was hard for Liebgott, even more than other soldiers. But knowing you are waiting for him and will stick with him helps get him through the hard times. I imagine Liebgott turns into Harry Welsh now that he’s smitten with you. He tells everyone about you, and wherever he goes, he looks for something to ship back to you.

After the war, the two of you find yourselves a nice house in California. No matter what happens, you are there for each other through thick and thin. The picture you gave Joe in Aldbourne is framed in your living room for years to come.

Floyd Talbert

Unfortunately, I don’t remember Tab that much since it has been so long since my last rewatch. But if I know one thing for certain, I know he’s a cutie pie. (But I’m very sorry if these headcanons don’t match the character well).

You two would definitely meet while Floyd is recovering from being bayonetted by Private Smith in Carentan. You tend to his wounds and listen to him recall the harrowing story of how he received his injury. Its only when Easy Company returns to England and you meet his friends that you learn the injury was a simple mistake. Of course, Floyd is embarrassed, but you find it endearing.

Much like with Toye, you return to Tab’s bedside innumerous times. Since you’re in England, you can relatively safely go out for a “date” once he is healed. You enjoy the best British food the two of you can afford, and when that gets too sickening, you stroll through London like tourists.

He insisted you be there when he returns to Easy and informally receives a Purple Heart. His beams with pride, and in his confident state shows you off to the rest of the men as his fiancee. Well, that isn’t exactly true until a couple days later, when Floyd pops the question hours before departing for the war again. You wouldn’t think of saying anything but yes.

Like the other men, you exchange letters for months. You remain stationed outside of London, and despite wartime rationing, send him anything he needs. Cigarettes? Bought and shipped. Pictures of you? Taken and sent. Some baked goods? Consider it sent. If he could, he would reciprocate the favor, which he tries to do whenever they stop through a somewhat intact town. The tulips he sends you from the Netherlands are permanently placed by your beside, even if they arrive a little dried.

Once the war ends, Tab can not wait to see you and shows up unannounced in your ward. The excitement and love is palpable, and you marry within days. After that, he feels no rush to end the honeymoon phase, and you dawdle getting back to the states to begin life together.

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blacktobackmesa · 3 months ago

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Chatty - A Streamman Mini-Fic (Part 1/?)

Generally speaking, Gordon’s friends had learned to look past the non-vocal noises that occasionally leaked through the cosmic veil through Gordon’s mouth.

Everyone in the group had their own quirks, really. Just as Gordon had learned not to ask too many questions about some of the Science Team’s habits, so too had his friends come to understand what it meant when his lips parted and he involuntarily did a spot-on impression of an A/C unit or a passing fire engine. There was only so much that he could do about his microphone sensitivity, so the occasional extra noise was just a fact of life.

The first few times it had happened, Gordon was just embarrassed to break the immersion of hanging out with his friends-- nobody wants constant reminders that the guy inviting you out to Game Night is a flesh puppet being controlled by someone who holds your reality on his desk.

Thankfully, if there was one perk to having hyper-adaptive AIs as friends, it was that the nature of their existence made them adept at the principles of improv theatre.

“My, that is a nasty case of the hiccups you have there!” Coomer had once told him over a game of Uno.

“Hiccups? I don’t know if I-- eep!”

Bubby nodded. “Mm-hm, mm-hm. You know, I’ve heard that with hiccups like that, the best cure is changing the damn batteries in your smoke alarm.”

The message took a moment for Gordon to fully process. “Oh. Oh, those hiccups!”

“It was either that or drinking a glass of water while humming. You know how those hiccup cures can be,” Bubby continued.

“I’d better do that,” Gordon said, quickly standing up from his chair. “I’ll be right back. Gotta drink some water or someth--eep! Low. Battery.”

Coomer looked at his partner as Gordon excused himself to take off his headset just out of view.

Bubby smirked. “Gordon has such a way with words, doesn’t he?”

Coomer nodded. “Low Battery. I believe I said something similar to you on our last anniversary!”

“I’d told you to charge your colon before we left the house.”

“I didn’t need to charge it when we left the house.”

It became a sort of part-joke, part-game, and part-grand-law-of-the-universe. When something unexpected came out of Gordon’s mouth, whoever was with him would create an “in-universe” explanation for the sound. Something fell off his desk and made a noise as it landed? Gordon must have been stretching his spine and something popped, always satisfying. Sirens outside? Now’s not the time to do vocal warmups, Gordon, but your range is impeccable. There’s a giggling little boy sitting on his dad’s lap? Gordon has become a spirit medium, and his body is being taken over by the ghostly being known as Great and Powerful Josh (who was very, very fond of this game).

It was all in good fun, of course. The game only worked if everyone was onboard, and Gordon very rarely had a reason to put his foot down and stop the gag.

Perhaps too rarely.

In the lower corner of his Twitch layout, the kitty ears on Gordon’s digital head perked at attention.

“For those of you just joining us, here’s what you need to know. Meatspace-- MYAA! Meatspace Gordon, the Gordon out in meatspace, is looking MAOW. after a little friend this week. But Digital Gordon?” He took a breath in, trying to tamp down on a laugh as another meow passed from his family’s cat through his avatar’s lips. “Digital Gordon has learned an important lesson about teleporter accidents.”

#gordon streamman #hlvrai fic #writing #how is this a minific if its in parts? shut

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hsfan94 · 6 months ago

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Opposite

AN: In honour of Short N Sweet coming out, here's one I wrote a year ago from the google docs. It was originally going to have a sad ending but I changed it up to fit how I'm feeling now. I hope you like it!

Y/n felt so stupid. The worst part was that she couldn’t even be mad. She was the one who got it so wrong. She could throw up from how stupid and sad she felt at the present moment. However, she was squished between Gemma and Harry in the first row of a balcony seating section at the National Theatre so she couldn’t escape.

Y/n met Harry in early 2019. She had just started out as a writer and producer. She got a call to come in for a studio session but wasn’t told anything else about the project. When she got there and walked in to see Harry Styles sitting casually on the couch in a white t-shirt and corduroys her heart stopped. It started up again, racing, when he stood up and came to greet her. Instead of shaking her hand like she would have expected, he enveloped her in the coziest hug ever.

“I’m so glad you were available to come today.” He told her, pulling back just enough to make eye contact. “I’m such a huge fan.”

She was shocked that he had heard anything she’d worked on let alone that he liked it.

“Thank you,” she said. “What’s this project we’re working on today all about?”

The biggest smile grew on his face as he started to tell her all about the record and the last few songs that needed finishing.

They hit it off so well that they never missed a chance to work together and hung out as often as possible.

That led her to here. Now. Y/n was in love with him. She hadn’t planned to fall, but with Harry it was as easy as breathing. Looking at him just melted her from the inside out, hearing his voice could calm any worry she had. Her favorite color became the exact shade of his eyes. Her favorite songs were the ones he wrote that she could imagine were about her. Realistically she knew none of them were but she’d written about him so it was nice to imagine the other way around. He was everything to her. He was also the only one who didn’t know.

So, here she was. She had been staying in London for a project with Jack Antonoff at Abbey Road and she had gotten a call last night from her Harry.

“What are you up to tomorrow night?” He had said, voice soft and unsure. It almost sounded like he was nervous.

“Nothing, it’s my day off, why?” She said, picking at a piece of her comforter that had a loose thread.

“Would you want to come see this play, “The Effect”, with me?” He sounded hopeful. She could hear it in his inflections. Like he really wanted her there.

“Harry, you already know I’d do anything you ask me to.” She smiled against her phone at the sound of his laugh coming through the line.

“Okay then, I’ll text you the details. See you tomorrow, Y/n.”

She should’ve known from the text that her interpretation was wrong.

It seemed like it was a date when he asked. But as she walked along the river, she couldn’t help but think that if it was a date, he would’ve picked her up and they would have gone together.

The thought was shattered even more when she saw Gemma and Michael standing outside the theatre where he had asked her to meet him.

Gemma, who was dressed in a lovely evening gown, noticed her rather quickly. She unhooked her arm from where it was locked with Michael’s and closed the short distance between them.

“Y/n, I didn’t know you were coming,” she said, engulfing Y/n in a tight hug.

“I could say the same.” Y/n pulled away first and glanced between her two friends.

“Harry didn’t tell you we were coming too?” Gemma quirked her eyebrow in that very specific way that only she and her brother can.

Y/n only shook her head. She noticed both their gazes turn to something akin to pity so she quickly shot her focus to the stones under her feet. They were quite interesting really. Not quite cobble stone but not pavement either.

“Oh. Well. Maybe he just forgot he invited us then.”

Y/n could hear in Gemma’s voice that she already knew what Y/n had thought. But before more could be said both her and Gemma’s phones chimed with a text saying the plan had changed and he would meet them inside.

Y/n’s heart fell that much more when the three of them made their way through the doors. Harry was leaning against a wall, talking animatedly to a beautiful woman. She was around five foot five and all around the complete opposite of Y/n. He had that specific twinkle in his eye that only shows up when he’s interested in someone. Just as Y/n was mentally comparing the exact differences in her and the other woman’s body type, Harry looked over and made eye contact with her. She quickly forced a smile and waved at him. He leaned over and whispered something in the other woman’s ear and then strode over to meet the three of them.

“I’m so glad you could come,” he said, pulling Y/n into a hug.

“Well I didn’t have much else going on.” She tried to keep an airiness in her voice to mask her true feelings.

“Gem, Micheal, it means a lot.” He shook Micheal’s hand and hugged Gemma.

“Yeah, I looked it up online and I’m quite excited. Thank you so much for the invite.” Gemma gave a very subtle nervous glance between Harry, Y/n and the woman he didn’t introduce them to but clearly came with.

“Well,” he reached into his coat pocket, “here are the tickets. You guys go ahead and find the seats, I’ll be up in a bit.”

As soon as Gemma took them from him, he turned around and made his way back to his previous spot against the wall.

The three of them made it to the seats and sat in an uncomfortable silence. The tension Harry had created in just that short little encounter was weighing down on them. Harry made his way to them just before curtain and right as the play started he placed his hand on Y/n’s knee, squeezed and whispered, “I’m really glad you came.”

The whole play Y/n couldn’t focus on the actual show. She was swimming in circles in her mind trying to figure out why she had got it wrong, trying her best not to cry, and debating how to escape without drawing suspicion. There was no worse feeling than the one she got when, between all of those other attention grabbers, she would look over and see Harry staring down at Taylor (she learned her name from the program) with the most loving gaze. When the play finally ended, Y/n waited through the clapping and cheering, joining in to not arouse suspicion, but then made a great escape.

“Harry,” she said gently just as they got back to the lobby.

“Yes, love?”

“Thank you for the invite, I really have to head home though, I’m not feeling too well.” To be fair, it wasn’t a lie.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He pulled her into a hug. “I hope you feel better, text me if you need anything.”

She just nodded and walked briskly out the door. She didn’t even make it ten feet before tears started streaming, silently, down her face.

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

Harry was concerned. He had tried to get ahold of Y/n the next day to see if she was feeling any better but his calls kept going to voicemail. He wanted to introduce her to Taylor but never got the chance. Now that it had been over 24 hours (and counting) and she still had not replied to his calls and texts, he was beginning to panic. What if something terrible had happened to her on her walk home. He picked up his phone to call her for the hundredth time and it went to voicemail again.

“Y/n, it’s me again. I need to know if you’re okay. I was also hoping to discuss some things with you while you’re in town and I know you were supposed to be leaving next week… but maybe the plans changed since you have fallen ill. I’m rambling, sorry. Please, please, please just at least text me. Anything just to let me know you’re alive.”

He hung up and decided to call his sister to see if she had heard from her or noticed if something was off.

“Hey, H, what’s up?”

“Have you heard from Y/n.” He rushed the words out almost on top of her’s.

“I’m well, thanks for asking, you?” Gemma’s tone was drenched in sarcasm.

“I’m serious, Gem, I’m really worried. She’s not responding to my messages. Did she seem okay last night?” He ran a hand through his hair as he paced around the room.

Gemma let out a loud, exasperated sigh. “Harry, are you dense?”

“Excuse me?”

“Of course she wasn’t okay last night,” she said, pausing to see if she would be interrupted again and continued when he stayed silent. “You invited her to a play that you failed to mention you invited me and Micheal to as well and then she goes inside to find out you have a girlfriend.”

Color him confused. “Okay… I’m not following.”

“Right. Dense.” She took another deep breath. “I feel as though I’m betraying her trust by disclosing to you but I also cannot for the life of me believe you could be so blind. She thought it was a date.”

“Why would she think that?” His heart sped up a little.

“Hmmm… Let’s think shall we? One, you have been joined at the hip for nearly five years. Two, she was under the impression that you were both single. Three, she’s madly in love with you. Four, you’ve been-”

“What was that?” He cut her off.

“Which part? None of this should be new information.” It came out biting and flooded with irritation.

“She’s… in love with me?”

“Yes, you idiot. Do you even have a brain?”

“Oi! No need to be rude or come for my intellect. I had no idea.”

Gemma sighed again, very defeated. “Do you even hear how she talks about you? Do you see the way she looks at you? Have you heard her songs? It’s so clear to everyone who has been around you two.” He was stunned into silence. “So back to your original question, no. She’s very hurt and embarrassed. I called her last night to check in and she had been crying and insisting she was so stupid and foolish for thinking you could ever want to ask her on a date.” His heart cracked. “It was heartbreaking and I kept trying to tell her you were the stupid one but she rushed to your defense as always, your greatest defender. So I imagine she just needs some space. I know you wanted to talk to her about album four but I think the last thing she needs is to potentially hear poems about another woman who’s place she could never hope to take.”

He hadn’t realized he started crying. It was a combination of things he supposed. The influx of all this new, overwhelming information, his best friend being so upset she had holed herself up somewhere to avoid him like the plague, and his sister having such a beautiful way with words and immense concern for his friend.

“I really had no idea. I’m such an ass.”

As if she noticed the choked sound of his crying, Gemma’s voice softened. “Not an ass, just a little oblivious. But you have strung her along a bit. I mean she would argue that it's all one-sided, but I’ve been around you two a lot, including the Christmas you brought her home because “she would have spent it alone otherwise” which is very boyfriend-y.”

“How do I fix it? How can I make it right?”

“Well, I can’t say for sure you can. If you love her the way she loves you, which I suspect you might even if you have a girlfriend, then the answer is simple. If not, then I guess give her time. Hell, I’d give her time either way. But if it’s the second one, you might have to accept that she may never get over you and therefore continuing on like you were would be an asshole thing to do.”

“Thank you, for the advice. Ummm. I guess I have some things to think about.”

“You will do the right thing, baby brother, I know you will. You are a great person and an even better friend. Also, don’t tell her I told you all this.”

He let out a half hearted chuckle. “Of course. I love you.”

“Love you too!”

And with that she hung up. And Harry had never felt so heavy hearted.

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

Y/n had been religiously ignoring his texts and calls. She felt so stupid and embarrassed. Of course it wasn’t going to be a date and she could not believe she’d thought that so easily. Her anger and sadness were only directed at herself but she still couldn’t bear to hear his voice just yet.

She lived and breathed music. So music was the answer. She wanted to send him a signal. She never wanted to outright tell him as it could go so wrong. But he sounded so worried, she wanted him to have a slice of understanding behind her distance.

She pulled up her camera, sat down at her piano and started singing.

“Oh so you do have a type and it's not me…”

She poured her heart and soul into the session with Sabrina over a year ago. They had something in common at the time. They were both lovelorn over someone who preferred other people.

“She looks nothing like me, so why do you look so happy?”

She recorded the whole song on her camera app and posted it to instagram with the caption, “reminiscing on writing this beauty with @sabrinacarpenter”.

She put her phone away for at least an hour, not wanting to see immediate reactions.

When she did get the courage to look she saw that Gemma had commented crying emojis and that Harry had in fact liked both the post and her comment. She was unsure if her message was really received but she tried not to think about it as she fell asleep.

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

There were knives lodged in his heart and shoved down his throat when he popped on to see her post after Gemma sent him a text about it. He loved that song. He had been the first person she showed it to when they wrote it. Yet, he never guessed it was about him and (what he assumes based on the time of writing) Olivia. But now it had more meaning to her as he did it again. Chose to be happy with someone else who in fact looks nothing like her.

The truth was Harry had no idea if he loved her the way she loved him. From what he was uncovering about her love for him, he didn’t even know if he could love anyone that way.

He had never shown romantic interest in her, sure, but he couldn’t understand why she was convinced he could never be interested in her that way. She was smart, talented, funny and kind. He thought she was the kind of person anyone would be lucky to end up with. He remembered one thing but that couldn’t have been enough to implant that in her head, could it?

“Is one of these ladies your date?” Jack motioned between Gemma and Y/n.

“That’s my sister.” Harry pointed at Gemma. He was going to explain who Y/n was but Jack started off on a tangent about families and the award show. Everyone was laughing and then all of the sudden Jack had left the table and Harry noticed Y/n seemed a little off the rest of the night.

Maybe she had thought that was a date as well and he brushed her off, be it unintentionally, and not even introduced her to Jack. But it didn’t really explain what about him overall could give her such an impression.

If he was honest, he had never given himself time to truly think about how he feels for her. They met when he was still broken up about Camille and he really needed a friend. In a way getting to know her helped him pick up the pieces. Not too long after that though, they were separated for a long period of time because of the pandemic and then he all but ran into Olivia’s open arms. He had seen Y/n a lot in the eight months he had been single this past year and he always really enjoyed their time together but he never gave himself a moment to stop and explore how he felt about her.

Now he found himself conflicted. He truly thought he was falling in love with Taylor but thinking about Y/n in this way (with deep thought and the ability to isolate himself and his feelings) he was starting to question his understanding of romantic love. He knew he didn’t love Taylor the way Y/n loved him. But he didn’t think he loved Y/n that way either and wouldn’t it be cruel for her to end up with someone who couldn’t give her that? Who couldn’t give her what she deserved? Gemma had told him to give Y/n time but now he felt as though he needed time too.

Dejected, he stood up from the couch, where he had been staring out the window for the last hour, and picked up his phone.

“Hey,” he said, when she answered. “Can we talk?”

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

“Thank you for coming,” Harry said, standing up from his usual table to greet her.

“Of course,” Taylor made a move to kiss him but he turned so she only caught his cheek. If it bothered her she didn’t let it show on her face.

They sat down and let silence fall over them.

“I don’t really know how to say what I want to say.” Harry played with the rings on his fingers. He was having a hard time looking at her as he knew he was about to hurt her.

She reached across the table and grabbed his hand. Running her thumb over his knuckles she said “Take your time, yeah? I’ve got all day.”

She was so sweet and patient and he felt terrible. But he’d been stupid and rushed into something without thinking and this is where it got him.

“I think we should, maybe, take a break.” His eyes were still fixed to his hands and hers that laid on top.

“Is that… I mean… Is that really what you want? You seem unsure.” Her tone was patient and calm as if his answer didn’t matter as much to her as she thought it would to him.

“I mean yes? I know that I’m not coming off very sure. Let me start over. I’ve really enjoyed our time together and I truly think I’m falling for you but…”

“There’s someone else?”

“What?” His eyes finally met hers.

“That’s what it is isn’t it?” She slowly removed her hands from his. “Harry, I think you’re great and the last few months have been a lot of fun, but I’m not stupid. That girl that came to the play, it’s her right?” She took a sip of her water, ever so patiently, as if she truly wouldn’t care either way because all he could find on her face was absolute understanding and it somehow made him feel worse.

“I didn’t know. You have to understand that. It seems I’m the last to know.” He paused to get a deep breath. “She’s one of my best friends and I invited her to introduce you, but she ran out saying she didn’t feel good. I hadn’t heard from her and I was worried sick because she walked home that night and my sister told me she was upset because she thought I invited her on a date. I’ve been running around my mind in circles trying to figure everything out but I’m just so lost and confused.”

She nodded once and then spoke again. “Let me help. Close your eyes.” He fluttered his lids shut and she continued. “It’s your wedding day, the music just started and the bride is coming towards you, who is it?”

He felt a smile overtake his face at the mental image of his best friend floating down an isle filled with petals, she was wearing a beautiful white dress and… His eyes shot open. “Woah.” The only word he could say.

“It was her, yeah?” For the first time Taylor had a hint of sadness outlining her features.

He nodded his head. “That was crazy, I’ve never thought about my wedding before like that.” After his initial shock faded he looked up at her apologetically. “You’re really great Taylor. You deserve someone amazing. I’m sorry that it can’t be me.”

She stood up from the table, leaned down to kiss his cheek again and spoke one last time. “Thank you Harry, you’re a great guy. I wish you all the best.”

And just like that she left the pub and he was left alone again only this time he was more sure of what he wanted.

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

Y/n’s phone had been ringing non-stop and it was really getting in the way of the session.

“Y/n are you sure you don’t need to get that?” Jack asked her.

When it first started ringing fifteen minutes ago she told him she’d let it go to voicemail not realizing that whoever it was, wouldn’t give up.

“Yeah, I’ll go check it I guess.”

She had filled Jack in on all the details of her weekend so he knew she was avoiding someone but he seemed worried that her phone was going off so much. So she decided to put her friend at ease and she took it outside. It had of course been Harry. He had just finished his calling for the tenth time when a text popped up.

I know you’re upset with me, but I’d really like to talk some things through this evening if you can. Does your favourite place at 8 work?

Half smiling, because he really could have sent a text to begin with, she responded.

Sure. Now stop calling, Jack and I need to finish this track so I can make it to dinner.

He sent back a “Sorry” with the little blushing emoji and she hearted the message.

She went back inside and told Jack there shouldn’t be any more interruptions.

“Was it Harry?” He asked, the nosy git.

“Yeah, he wants to get dinner to make it up to me I guess, but the strange thing is he shouldn’t even know I’m upset with him.”

She continued on through the session with dinner out of her mind and when it rolled around to 7:00 she left the studio and headed to the restaurant.

When she got there, he had already gotten a table, secluded in the back corner. It had two lit candles and a bouquet of roses and she was really confused. Harry stood up to greet her and she noticed how fancy he had dressed and she suddenly felt her ripped jeans and cardigan put her out of place.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were dressing up? I look so out of place,” She said as he came to hug her.

A frown formed on his face and he replied, “You look beautiful.”

Her insides exploded the way they always did when he complimented her.

They sat down and an awkward silence fell over them. He was just staring at her with the strangest look on his face and she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Harry, why are we here?”

Before he could reply a waiter came to the table with a bottle of her favorite wine and poured them both a glass. She stared at the bottle with wide eyes, because how had he remembered she preferred this one to any other and why had he ordered them a bottle, it was going to cost a fortune.

“Harry What-”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.” He gently placed a hand over hers.

“For what?” She was going to lose her mind soon.

“I’ve been horrible and blind and I’ve hurt you. I can’t begin to apologize in a way worthy of your forgiveness.”

“Harry, what are you talking about?” She hadn’t been aware that he knew she was upset.

“I’ve been a selfish fool and I’m so sorry, but if you let me, I’ll make it up to you.”

It was as if he couldn’t hear her questioning. Like he had planned out some speech and was so anxious to get through it he couldn’t allow himself to get sidetracked but she needed to understand what he was apologizing for.

“Harry,” she said sharply, dragging his attention to her face, “what are you talking about? I’m so confused right now.”

He took a deep breath and started over. “Please don’t be angry with her, she was only trying to help.” She must have made a face that screamed confusion so he continued. “My sister told me how you feel. She told me you thought the play was supposed to be a date and she called me a bunch of names for being clueless. I’m truly sorry. I genuinely had no idea that was how you felt.”

Her stomach had dropped through the floor. If she thought she had been embarrassed before, this was something much worse. “Oh um… yeah… don’t worry about it. She really shouldn’t have said anything.” She started to stand up. “You don’t have to do all this, it’s fine I’ll just…” She had started to take a step towards the door when she felt his hand wrap around her wrist and tug her back.

“Please don’t do that. Don’t leave. I want to talk about this. I want to make it up to you.” When she turned to look at him, there was a look of terror on his face at the thought of her leaving.

“I don’t know how you can. You didn’t really do anything, it’s me. It’s something I need to get over.” She reluctantly sat back down.

“I don’t want it to be something you get over,” he said fast, panic in his voice. The candles being placed just so, she could see every little detail of his face as he leaned in closer.

“What? That doesn’t make sense.” Her head shook back and forth. She had more to say, she was going to go on and on about how sad that situation would be, her in love with him, him in love with other people. But he didn’t give her a chance to continue.

“Just… Let me explain okay?” He searched her eyes for permission and when she nodded he continued. “I’ve been stupid okay? When we met I really needed a friend. A shoulder to lean on and I met you and that’s what you were. Then the pandemic happened and I got lonely and Olivia was there. I don’t know, it was just easy. Then when she and I broke up, you and I got to hangout more, like we used to and instead of letting myself ponder how I truly felt about you I started dating someone else. I met with Taylor earlier and we called it off.” He paused to drink some wine with big, long gulps, something she knew he did when he was nervous or stressed so she reached out and squeezed his hand in reassurance and a huge smile lit up his face. “She did this small thing to help me realize it was always going to be you.” Her heart thudded in her chest. “She told me to close my eyes and picture it was my wedding day, something I’ve never done, and she asked who I saw walking towards me and it was the most beautiful picture I’ve ever seen. You were in a custom Harris Reed wedding dress, walking towards me and it was the happiest I’d ever felt. But honestly I think it had to happen this way, me being with her first because otherwise I may have never realized it. So in a way I’m not sorry for that, I’m just sorry I hurt you and I hope that you will still give me a chance. Since the other night wasn’t able to be our first date like you hoped, maybe this can be?”

He took a deep breath once he was done talking and stared at her nervously. Her mind was going a mile a minute. He met with Taylor to call it off? He pictured her at the end of the aisle? He wanted this to be a date? She didn’t know what to start with. Instead of voicing every thought on her mind she started laughing hysterically.

“Yeah right! You want to be on a date with me? Me at the end of the aisle? Harry be so serious right now. This is the worst practical joke I’ve ever been on the receiving end of. If me having feelings for you made you that uncomfortable you could have just said, no need to humiliate me this way.” She couldn’t stop laughing despite the fact that what she was saying was anything but funny. She was sure he’d join in any second to confirm her suspicions but when she was able to open her eyes for long enough he looked so mad that she could swear steam was about to erupt from his head.

“I am being serious! Do you know what the worst part of the last few days was?” When she shook her head he continued. “It was that Gemma told me you thought, no knew, that I’d never see you that way. That I’d never want to ask you on a date and I’ve been feeling so shitty trying to figure out what I’ve done that could make you think such a thing. That the thought alone had made you so sad you didn’t want to see me or talk to me.”

He looked like he wasn’t done but she had to interrupt him. To explain herself. She gently grabbed his hands again and spoke softly and more seriously this time.

“Harry. You didn’t necessarily do anything, I’ve just… I mean… look at you,” she gestured at him then back to herself, “and look at me. There’s just no universe in which I’d get the guy y’a know? And that’s okay, really. I love being a part of your life no matter what. Besides I’ve seen your exes, even ones I haven’t met personally, and they’re all, well you know, smaller and prettier and the kind of girls that do get the guy. I really need to just try harder to find someone in my league even if it means it’s not you.”

He started to cry and she hated it. She didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.

“Y/n how could you say those things about yourself? You are the most incredible person I’ve ever met, inside and out. If anything you are out of my league and I’d be lucky to end up with you. And I hate myself for never showing you properly how beautiful and special you are.”

She stood up and came around to his side of the booth and sat beside him.

“Hey, hey, hey,” she picked his hands up and held them in hers again, “Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’ve just gone a very long time feeling like no one could ever love me, so it’s hard to believe you could want me that way. And to be fair, it’s not like I ever told you how special and beautiful I think you are. I never really gave you the chance to return the sentiment.”

He leaned his forehead against hers and brought one of his hands to her face, pulling her closer. “But you have. I just wasn’t listening properly. All your songs, it’s so obvious, I’ve just been in my own world and I’m so sorry.” His thumb swiped away moisture from her cheek she wasn’t aware had formed. “I don’t know if I can love you the way you love me, but I’d like to give it my best shot.” He kissed her cheek and pulled her into a proper hug.

“Ok. If you’re sure.” He pulled back from her shoulder nodding and she continued. “But I don’t think this should be our first date.” His face fell. “Only because I ruined the mood.” She did her best to smile. “You had such a beautiful evening planned and a perfect apology and I threw it in your face, you deserve better.”

He shook his head, “we deserve better.” The waiter came by again to see if they were ready to order, pulling them out of their own little bubble and Harry told him they needed another moment. Once he had gone again he returned to his thoughts. “I think you’re right. Tonight didn’t go exactly as I planned but we should also have it be more special. I should put more effort in and court you properly like you deserve. I just couldn’t wait to see you and tell you how I feel that I forgot about going about this in the right way. You’ve wanted this for so long, you deserve to know it’s a date before you’re on it.”

“I think that sounds great.” She smiled at him and leaned in to kiss his cheek this time. “Now shall we have dinner? I’m actually really hungry.”

As if on cue her stomach let out a loud unpleasant noise. His eyes widened and shot down to it then lifted back up to hers.

“Apparently,” he said and she burst out laughing, making him smile too.

She got up to return to her side of the booth. Once she was sitting back down she noticed he looked disappointed at the space so she slipped her ankle around his under the table while she picked up her menu. As if she was going to order something other than her usual. She always ordered the same thing even though every time they leave she says she’ll try something new next time.

When the waiter came back they placed their orders and he took their menus. She finally allowed her gaze to return to Harry and he looked positively giddy.

“What?” she said.

“I just love you.”

Her heart did somersaults in her chest. He hadn’t actually said those words yet. She picked up his hand again and brought it to her mouth. She placed the most delicate kisses to each knuckle and then lowered it, intertwining their fingers before resting them on the table.

“I love you too.”

They just smiled at one another for a moment and then his face lit up in something akin to realization.

“You’re supposed to be leaving this week.” It came out deflated.

“Yeah. Jack and I only have the studio for three more days. But I don’t have anything else for a couple weeks so I could always stay longer.”

His smile came back.

“Good,” he said. “I want to take you on our first date.” He paused, looking deep in thought like he was battling his next thought. “I guess since we talked all this out I can go ahead and ask. Do you want to work on my next album with me?”

Her cheeks were going to break from all this smiling after four days of mostly crying, but he was just too cute.

“Harry, did you think because I was sad I wouldn’t want to work on a project with you?” He nodded and she spoke again. “You should know I’m always going to say yes to you.” She twisted the ring on his middle finger, one she had given him last Christmas.

“No it’s just that…” he seemed unsure of how to say what he wanted so she gave his hand another gentle squeeze. “Gemma told me it would be inconsiderate to have you work on songs about someone else but to be honest now they’re more likely to be about you.”

“I’m going to have to have a serious talk with my sister-in-law then.” She’s always referred to Gemma as her sister but she didn’t realize she’d never done so in front of him because the look that took over his face was a sight for sore eyes. “Maybe I’m a masochist but I would have still said yes. I don’t want you to ever feel like you can’t ask me to be your collaborator. That’s what brought us together. It’s what we do best. I mean not to sound narcissistic but no one will ever strike gold the way we did with Fine Line.”

He laughed brightly at her comment.

“Well,” He started, a smirk taking over his face, “hopefully it won’t be the thing we’re best at for long.” He dropped his left eye in a wink and she cackled.

“You’re insane. Talking about wanting to court me properly then not an hour later you’re trying to get me into bed.” She nudged his shin with her foot playfully.

Another wave of silence fell over them but it was peaceful and easy because things were always easy with them. Their food came and they ate with little conversation but kept up their playful glances and touches. When they were done eating, Harry stood up and took out his wallet.

“H, he hasn’t even brought the check.”

“I know but I can’t wait to get you alone.” He fished what she thought to be way too much money out of his wallet, probably close to £1000 for a meal that was maybe £200, and dropped it on the table. He extended his hand to her and she took it.

“Do you want to come to mine?” He asked once they were out the door.

“Mr. Styles! Are you suggesting that we should engage in premarital sex? How scandalous of you.”

She giggled once she got the words out and he laughed loudly. They stopped for a moment on the sidewalk and he turned to face her.

“Well, not necessarily but I certainly wouldn’t be opposed.”

He had her favorite of his smiles plastered on his face and she couldn’t take it any longer. She reached up, planted both her hands on his face and pulled his lips to hers. He let out a squawk of surprise at first and then his hands came to her waist, following her lead effortlessly. He broke them apart after only a moment and she let out a whine of disappointment.

“Baby, we should really wait until we get home,” he said softly.

Butterflies erupted throughout her whole body. She grabbed his hand again, interlacing their fingers, and smiled up at him.

“Yeah. Let’s go home.”

#harry styles #harry’s house #harry pls #harry styles fic #one direction #dont worry darling #harry styles best friend #harry x reader #famous harry #harry styles fluff

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crimson-and-clover-1717 · 2 months ago

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Mother Teach, Ed, and Self-Determination CW: Emotive

I want to explore Ed’s mother in the red silk flashback, and its lasting impact on Ed.

Mother Teach begins with the imperative, ‘Feel it, boy’. There seems to be a certain lesson in showing Ed the thing he cannot have, before explaining the rich folk she works for own many items of this quality; so matter of fact as if it’s nature’s law.

When Ed asks in innocence the question, ‘Why can’t we have things like this?’ Mother Teach comes up against an alternate line of thinking which she seems never to have considered. She blinks in what could be surprise before giving what appears to be an obvious answer: ‘It’s up to God. He decides who gets what’. This establishes the idea that life is ‘not up to us’, but controlled by an external locus: God, providence, fate… ‘He decides’.

Mother Teach is conditioned to believe in determinism, and who can blame her. Her life is decided for her. What hope of agency for a poor, indigenous woman in a world run by a rich, white patriarchy? And it’s easier to attribute the decision to God, His unfathomable will. God is also likely and conveniently a rich, white man, so the issues blur somewhat in who is actually doing ‘the determining’; but frankly, the outcome is the same. It is safe to say God isn’t a poor, brown woman.

Ed carries this belief into his future life, struggling with agency, succumbing easily to manipulation; not having beautiful things despite acquiring riches, and giving up quickly in the face of setbacks. The second part of Mother Teach’s explanation, ‘We’re just not those kind of people’ further reinforces Ed’s class and race inferiority, which again he carries painfully into adulthood. These words are spoken with some emotion. We hear the shake in her voice as she acknowledges certain truths about the limitations of their existence.

The impact of his father on Ed’s psyche is largely plain in the cycles of abuse with older white men, but the transmission of generational trauma via Ed’s mother is also significant.

Mother Teach isn’t trying to be cruel. She clearly loves her son, and the silk is a love-token which she possibly took without permission so her child could have at least one chance to look upon and own a ‘beautiful thing’. But her own trauma means she further damages her son’s self-esteem during this interaction. She doesn’t want Ed to be a dreamer or believer in a better life. Best accept your lot, know your place, then you won’t be disappointed. There is a certain wisdom to it; and had she an average son with a dullish mind, it’s probably sound advice in this particular time and place.

But her son isn’t ordinary. He is a genius, an empath, a creative, as well as prone to overthinking and melancholy. His race foremost, and class also, are against him, and that is outside of his control; but everything else is up for grabs with someone as brilliant as Ed if he can find inner worth. He might always have to live within a subculture to find both success and happiness, but he may have done so sooner with a stronger internal locus of control, and belief in his own worth and agency, had he received a different message in childhood.

As it is, he lives a life in the shadows, emulating and enhancing further the toxic masculinity revered in the dominant culture which is so against his true nature. He uses his genius for strategy and theatre to enrich himself for protection and subsistence only, never going beyond and allowing luxury or beauty; and when finally world-weary and screaming for change, finds himself trapped by the ghosts of his childhood, some of whom are reshaped into new human forms.

One of many things which saddens me regarding Ed’s sacrifice in killing his father as an act of protecting his mother is I don’t feel it changed anything much. It was a micro action against a macro problem. If Ed possibly then ran away, his mother would’ve had to do what she always did: find another male protector, possibly a white man to enable a certain social standing, and she would likely be back within a similarly psychological and physically abusive situation. It isn’t inevitable this would happen to a woman in her situation, but it’s the most likely outcome because her choices are so limited. And that’s hugely tragic for both herself and Ed.

It’s often said for Ed, there’s a psychological affinity between Stede and Mother Teach. The rich, white man who is kind and optimistic is everything Ed’s mother could’ve been with those same sociological advantages. Stede is able to self-determine. He is a repressed gay man in a heteronormative society, but much of the world is built with his empowerment in mind, and he is able to take full advantage of that and change his path. Both Stede and Mother Teach love or loved Ed, and in an unequal world, one of them at least is able to model a different way of living; help push open the psychological door enough to allow Ed himself to begin to change his stars, and self-actualise as the person he truly is.

Writing this made me sob…I’m sorry if it does the same for you reading it

#ed teach #mother teach #determinism #agency #internal external loci #rich white men #god #stede bonnet #ofmd meta #ofmd #cw: emotional abuse #cw: physical abuse

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torchlitinthedesert · 6 months ago

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Kenneth Tynan and the Beatles

Shout out to @mmgth for noticing Beatle mentions in the letters of Kenneth Tynan - including working with John Lennon, Paul's 1960s reputation, and glimpses of the breakup. (Alas, no George or Ringo.)

Tynan was a drama critic and later worked with Laurence Olivier at Britain's National Theatre. Philip Norman calls him "the most rigorous cultural commentator of his age": he championed working class plays in the 1950s, supported progressive art (and was widely believed to be the first person to say "fuck" on British television). So he's an interesting perspective: well connected, arty, eager for cultural change, but from an older generation, and outside the immediate rock/pop world.

The first mention is 1966, when Tynan is already working at the National Theatre.

28 September 1966

Dear Mr McCartney,

Playing 'Eleanor Rigby' last night for about the 500th time, I decided to write and tell you how terribly sad I was to hear that you had decided not to do As You Like It for us. There are four or five tracks on 'Revolver' that are as memorable as any English songs of this century - and the maddening thing is that they are all in exactly the right mood for As You like It. Apart from 'E. Rigby' I am thinking particularly of 'For No One' and 'Here, There and Everywhere'. (Incidentally, 'Tomorrow Never Knows' is the best musical evocation of L.S.D. I have ever heard).

To come to the point: won't you reconsider? John Dexter [theatre director] doesn't know I'm writing this - it's pure impulse on the part of a fan. We don't need you as a gimmick because we don't need publicity: we need you simply because you are the best composer of that kind of song in England. If Purcell were alive, we would probably ask him, but it would be a close thing. Anyway, forgive me for being a pest, but do please think it over."

Paul replied that he couldn't do the music because, hilariously, "I don't really like words by Shakespeare" - he sat waiting for a "clear light" but nothing happened. He ended, "Maybe I could write the National Theatre Stomp sometime! Or the ballad of Larry O."

It's interesting that Tynan approaches Paul individually - because they had theatre connections in common? Or did Tynan assume that John wrote the words and Paul the music, so Paul's the guy to ask for settings of Shakespeare lyrics? (Though he does correctly identify Paul songs in his letter, plus the musical setting of Tomorrow Never Knows, so he might just be asking because he's a Paul girl. He also wants Paul to know that he's cool and hip and has done acid.)

Tynan definitely is a Paul girl. On 7 November that year, he pitched possible articles (I think for Playboy). He offers articles on the War Crimes Tribunal (set up by Bertrand Russell on the US in Vietnam), an interview with Marlene Dietrich, or:

"Interview with Paul McCartney - to me, by far the most interesting of the Beatles, and certainly the musical genius of the group."

It's a reminder of how drastically Paul's reputation changed, between cultural commentators of the 1960s and post-breakup.

Tynan didn't get his Paul interview, but he worked twice with John.

On 5 February 1968, he's sorting out practical details for the National Theatre's company manager about about the stage adapation of John's book In His Own Write (which had already had a preview performance in 1967). It's a very Beatle-y affair:

Victor Spinetti and John Lennon will need the services of George Martin, the Beatles A & R man to prepare a sound tape to accompany the Lennon play. Martin did this tape as a favour for the Sunday night production, but something more elaborate will be required when the show enters the rep, and I feel he should be approached on a professional basis as Sound Consultant, or some similar title. I have written to him to find out if he is ready to help and will let you know as soon as he replies.

...John Lennon says that as far as his own contract is concerned, we should deal directly with him at NEMS rather than his publisher.

So John prefers to work within the Beatle structure: George Martin, Victor Spinetti, plus NEMS, rather than pursuing closer ties with his book publisher.

On 16 April 1968, Tynan writes to John about his ideas for a wanking sketch.

Dear John L,

Welcome back. You know that idea of yours for my erotic revue - the masturbation contest? Could you possibly be bothered to jot it down on paper? I am trying to get the whole script in written form as soon as possible.

John's reply is very John:

"you know the idea, four fellows wanking - giving each other images - descriptions - it should be ad-libbed anyway - they should even really wank which would be great..."

Oh John.

Tynan still wanted to interview Paul - and was noticing changes in Beatle dynamics. On 3 September 1968, Tynan pitched another feature on Paul, this time for the New Yorker:

In addition to pieces on theatre, I'd love to try my hand at a profile (I remember long ago we vaguely discussed Paul McCartney though John Lennon is rather more accessible)...

Accessible because Tynan had already worked with him, or because John was already flexing his PR muscles? The New Yorker was interested, because Tynan follows up on 14 October 1968:

4. A few days in the life of Paul McCartney (which we agreed should come at the end of the series of articles, because of the current overexposure of the Beatles.)

Why does he see the Beatles as "overexposed" in autumn 1968, when he hadn't in 1966? Was it the Apple launch? The JohnandYoko press campaign? The cumulative impact of a lot of Beatle news?

Tynan was still trying on 17 September 1969:

...I'd like to go on to either Mr Pinter [playwright Harold Pinter] or Paul McCartney... I incline towards McCartney who has isolated himself more and more in the past from the other Beatles and indeed from the public: he seems to have reached an impasse that might be worth exploring. On the other hand Pinter is a much closer friend and would be more accessible to intimate scrutiny."

I'm fascinated by this - that Paul's isolation was visible to those outside the Beatles circle (the letter is dated three days before the meeting of 20 September 1969, where John said he wanted a divorce).

But Tynan was right about Paul being inaccessible. On 5 January 1970:

I'm saddened to have to tell you that Paul McCartney doesn't want to be written about at the moment - at least, not by me. I gather that for some time now the Beatles have been moving more and more in separate directions. Paul went to a recording session for a new single last Sunday which was apparently the first Beatles activity in which he'd engaged for nearly nine months. He doesn't know quite where his future lies, and above all he doesn't want to be under observation while he decides.

So while Paul "doesn't want to be under observation", he's surprisingly open about the breakup - less blunt than "the Beatle thing is over", which he told Life in November 1969, but still frank.

Trying to persuade Paul to open up to "intimate scrutiny" in 1969 does suggest another reason why 1970s interviewers adored John. Tynan works for an older, more established press, but he's offering the kind of profile John would make his own - discussing his inner life and personal/artistic conflicts with cultural commentator who respects him as an artist. And Paul can't run away fast enough. As a journalist, you'd absolutely go for the guy who makes himself accessible and is eager to bare his soul, over Mr Doesn't Want To Be Written About At The Moment.

#kenneth tynan #the breakup #john lennon #paul mccartney #george martin #victor spinetti #oh! calcutta #john's pr genius is so underrated #tag for mine or my addition

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year ago

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WIBTA for getting someone kicked out of our school's theatre program???

i (18x) have this friend (18f) i'll call whitney. we met through the school's theatre program and have known each other for about 3.5 weeks.

for a while i really, really liked whitney!! she was super cool and funny and i wanted to be friends with her!! but the first time we ever hung out outside of rehearsal, she made a joke about how i was vulnerable and easy to manipulate due to my mental illness and how she would love to be my shitty boyfriend and treat me terribly. i know she meant it as a joke and it WAS funny in the context of the show we just did, and i didn't take offense (it was true), but i kept thinking about it for a while and what a weird thing it was to say to someone you don't know very well.

last night she invited me back to her dorm and i went and we talked for a few hours. everything was normal at first and she was super cool. then she told me that she used to run a proana blog on tumblr where she had 5000+ followers and posted "tips and tricks." that would ALREADY be bad, but then she told me she's never actually had an ed. she just thought it was funny to see how many people would interact with her posts. as someone who used to have a pretty severe ed, and still does to a much lesser extent, i was really triggered and on the verge of tears. i tried to redirect the conversation a few times and when whitney wouldn't change the subject, i had to call my roommate to come save me.

i really don't want to be around her in the future. she consistently makes me uncomfortable. i was considering bringing it up to some of the members of the exec board of our theatre troupe, who are my friends; however, nothing she ever said was IN the context of theatre or related at all to the program, so i feel like she never violated the "making people uncomfortable" policy of the troupe. she just happens to be a shitty person OUTSIDE of theatre. and i know theatre is one of her safe spaces that i really really don't want to get her kicked out of for no reason. but at the same time, i don't want to have to make the choice between a) not doing theatre or b) spending all my time around her when she says shit like this.

(also worth noting that we're in college so rules about what a person in the program can or cannot do are much less strict and much more up to the exec board's, and college's, discretion as opposed to high school theatre where all extracurriculars are regulated by the principal.)

WIBTA if i talked to the exec board about her??? i feel like i'm overreacting but this seems like really shitty behavior

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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voidwritesstuff · 4 months ago

Text

Camcorder Stories.

Cw: War being self deprecating. (No surprise there)

Summary: The Four happen to be travelling with a human survivor who is a devoted learner of all things cinema. They're learning about human culture one way or another, even if they dont like it.

>A/n: Inspired by the lovely @darkdemeter and her amazing Darksiders writings. As A film student, I felt like I needed to share all this knowledge that has changed the way I watch films and other multimedia content. To share the hard work involved and the appreciation I have for it :DDD.

The horsemen had no concept of what Film was. Not even Strife,who was the most acquainted with humanity even before the end times.

But now the riders found themselves with a young human who had dedicated a good portion of their years to studying cinema. And much to their chagrin or excitement...

This human carried an old camcorder with them. And with tapes to spare.

Death:

Not even theatre was of particular concern or interest to the pale rider. He was never one for the arts,other than the art of necromancy, so at first he pays the human no mind when they begin talking about film.

"Oh hold on,I need to film this. Stand there at the edge of that cliff...I just need to fiddle with the ISO. So bright..."

Death was just looking at the Valley below,the sickly sun of the kingdom of the dead shone on his cold skin. The warmth was sticky and awful. But hes never been one to complain.

The tall bone towers stood on the far distance on each side of him, a perfect frame of Demise between the reaper himself.

His human companion fiddled with buttons and he could see the lense of the strange device the mortal held. He saw how it opened and closed like a predator's Gaze.

"Okay! There we go. Finally. Please stand there,Im going to do a traveling, then a zoom in And finish on a medium close up...you just stay there like in a reverse shot. " the human made a pause,as if thinking about their words "stay still,look Cool. Back to the camera and look forwards to either of those towers"

Death doesnt know why he indulges in these outbursts of cinematic inspiration. He thinks it helps his companion Keep their sanity..and it keeps them tame and less prone to trouble.

He can hear the mortal slowly walk to him. His ears catch the sound of their footsteps from his right. He can guess theyre putting most of their weight on their heels so they can turn upwards and close in on him to somewhat eye level.

The sound comes from his right to then begin walking a Straight line behind him. Thats the travelling.

This "useless" knowledge of film has been drilled into his mind against his Will. He knew a travelling meant this human would slowly move towards him from either of his sides.

After comes that close up. Those always put his hairs on edge. Like theyre sneaking behind him. He absolutely hates it. Even if theyre not even a threat.

Finally,the medium close up meant the camera would only film from his shoulders up.

He can hear the whirring of the camcorder as it takes in his form.

It cuts when the camera is right on his left shoulder.

"Satiated?" He asked,a gruff in his voice. The annoyance bellows from the base of his throat.

"Very..." he turns to see the human look at their recording"I know you hate doing second takes...I know you think this is silly but...I'd like one more take. Please? . Its not often that outside light behaves,usually its better to do all this in a studio-gives you more controll over the lights and shadows.. but this is almost a golden opportunity.."

He asks himself again why he indulges the mortal on these things. But he looks at how their eyes glimmer at the prospect of connecting with something so tied to them and their people that went on a horrible decline by the hands of things older and more powerfull than them.

And he cant squander their happiness.

Perhaps hes grown soft, perhaps hes intrigued by such arts.

"One last 'take'. Make it count,human"

The smile they give him could melt any Ice. And if the Creator willed it,maybe the one that wrapped his dead heart.

"Okay! Ill do my travelling from the left, then a zoom and finish on your right shoulder. I know theres not much difference but the sun is coming from the left...I think its going to be more dramatic that way!"

Death couldnt help but let out a low,low chuckle"One of these days,I'll make you show me all these things youre...filming"

"Death,after this take I'll show all of them to you. I promise" the human's voice sounds the happiest hes ever heard since meeting them "I think all this Will make a smashing docu-series. Ill give you credits of course, though putting "Special thanks to the literal horseman of the pale horse" sounds a little weird"

Another chuckle left the old reaper "With everything your people has been through,thats your concern?"

The human laughed,a sound so heavenly"Alright,alright,fair. C'mon. Stand there again and We'll wrap this up faster than you can say 'action!'"

Fury

Her opinions could make even the saltiest of film critics cry. And shes not ashamed on telling his human companion how pointless and useless their outbursts were.

But then she saw how cool she looked,and it fed her ego so much she changed her tune.

"Youre going to kill me because of this,Fury. But move to that lightsource there" the human Pointed at one forwards down the Hall of arcane lights they were in.

"Whats wrong with this one, mortal? " the she-horseman asked with her hands on her hips and a little annoyed glare in her white eyes.

"I can tell from how it looks here in the camera that this is an incomplete spectrum lightsource "

"English,human "

The mortal sighed,putting down the camera "Incomplete Spectrum Lights dont do well with colors that are a mix of two others. Your hair is magenta, the middle between blue and red. Depending on where you stand, its taking the color of your hair from bluer to redder. Not a nice look,and not the one im looking for "

She relented and Walked further down the Hall. She raised her hands in annoyance and said "Well? "

"Perfect!! Do something cool with your whip! -Oh I need to change the obturation velocity. "

"...human" Fury scowled.

"How quickly the lenses Open and close to register the image. The quicker it opens and closes the clearer the image of your whip moving Will be"

Fury saw them click a few buttons on their camcorder. The tech was foreign to them,only her watcher seemed to be aware of how they worked. So,when the human wasnt listening, the shadow being explained to her mistress what a camera was and how it functioned.

"There! Ready. Im not sure on what shot to use.."

She did say she didnt care for film knowledge. Shes heard it enough times against her Will but...

"Medium length shot. Didn't you humans call it an 'American Shot' too?" she asked,grabbing the Hilt of Scorn.

The human smiles,the glimmering of their eyes like theyre finally being acknowledged

"Or 'cowboy shot' yeah. You...you remembered! "

"Just because you said it a thousand times. "

By now,her mortal companion had grown used to her dismissal. "Uh-Huh sure. Ahem, alright. 'Fury being awesome ' take one! And...action!"

Just a few takes later,The human approached the horsewoman and showed her the display screen of the camera. Within it she sees the last take they did, which seemed to be the best one yet.

There truly is an art and a skill to it. How they move about to catch each angle, evading any lightsource that May betray their shadow and ruin the film.

Fury catches the warmth and pride in the human's eyes. This is the first time shes seen them so content. Mortals needed little to be happy.

It made her heart squeeze. She almost felt...guilty for being so critical and mean about this,admitedly, unique art form.

"Not bad. Perhaps you'll even make this into something worth watching" she ruffles their hair to add her usual emotional distance, but the human is inmune to It.

"When I do,you and your siblings are invited to the red carpet premiere. You Better dress your best"

"I never dissapoint,human".

Strife:

The horseman of the white horse loved any and all things human related. Was this his way of making up after his failing at protecting humanity from corruption? Maybe.

Or maybe he just really likes the culture.

Not like he'd tell his human companion about why he seemed so interested in their filming.

"Okay heres a fun bit of info for you. Did you know we had an art form called stop motion?"

"I Didnt know, how does it work?"

He listened attentively as the mortal told him about the millions of variations of puppet models,the replacement, the neat little tricks to make things move and seem Real.

To him,stop motion animation sounded like a real labor of love.

"I had to make one for a class once. It was painful but fun"

"Do you still have the recording?"

"I...dont sadly. We made it on a digital camera and god knows what happened to it after this shit show"

"Oh...".

"But if you give me a few hours we can make one together"

Strife knows himself enough to be aware of his lack of patience. But he accepts the deal if only for the experience.

He sees his human companion,his Friend, work away at making a few tiny little puppets that they can pose. They use pine cones,Grass,rubble, anything that they can get their hands on.

The mortal sets the camera on a rock,making sure it cant be moved. Then, they spent the Next few hourstaking pictures and making the puppets move and do silly little things.

Strife defenetly didnt have the patience for this, but it was all worth it when he saw the animation they made together. How the doll moved about in its little scenario,how the arms hoist up some pebble.

" Ive never done anything like this" he had admitted as he cleaned his guns. This was his way of unwinding. "It was fun, but painful. You sure its not some human torture method?"

His friend laughed,shaking their head as they press record on their camera and begin to move it delicately to drink in all the details of the horseman's hands cleaning the gun

The campfire beside them gave the shot a dramatic light that flickered and danced in a way that made the metal glint. And with a low ISO (aka the camera's sensitivity to light) there was no oversaturation to ruin the recording.

"Watcha doing'?" The gunslinger asked, not stopping the cleaning of his weapons.

"A detail shot. Usually its for props. In this case, the props are your guns." They explained "I personally love detail shots. They showcase the love put into the props by the art department"

"Theres an art department?"

"Ya. Theres also a lights department, writers,directors, producers, special effects- like a fake wound-, a costume/clothes department.-"

"So Many people for one movie?"

"Mhm! I can tell you all about it "

"Sweetheart,we've got nuthin' but time. 'M all ears"

War:

Creator help the human that the red rider travels with. He knows little of things like theatre and magic and tech are a mystery to him in so Many ways. Had it not been for the watcher, the behemoth in crimson would have no clue and think its an elaborate human prank.

"Okay so in a movie,you'd have four stages. Pre- production,where the story and list of resources needed for the film get made. Production,which is getting everything on the list plus actors and catering and a bunch of other things. Filming,the fun part. And post-production, where everything comes together"

War raised his brows in surprise, his expression would have been hidden if it wasnt for the slight widening of his shining white eyes and his voice as he says "I...was not aware of how much was needed for such a seemingly simple thing"

The human was unaware of the expression he was making,seeing as their back was to his chest. Ruin trode lazily over the broken pavement.

"Yeah! You need a lot. Think about this,you need a scene in a home.." they begin,opening Their camcorder to put a tape within It "you can either make it within a studio- which means making everything from the ground up- or get a house with the furniture inside it "

He listens attentively "Im sure its more complicated than that...You'd need...lights? You have said that. And you told me natural light can be...tricky"

"Yeah!! " they sound so happy at his remembrance "For a home you manage to "borrow" you need to block out the Windows- unless theyre shown in the shot- and replace the light with artificial ones. But you'd also need people and services to haul the equipment to that home. "

They made a brief pause "a big guy like you would be useful. You May have a spot on the industry after all!"

"I dont see myself-"

"It was a joke,War"

"Right"

"Thats joke 1000 and counting" they breathed out,before turning on their camcorder. "Hey...I want a birds eye view of Ruin's head. Can get on your shoulders?"

He sighed "very well. Be careful"

The human climbs on him with ease. His armor provided foot holds and places to grasp. And its not the first time this happened...

War barely registers their weight on him. He looks up past his hood to see them record the sunset,turning side to side slowly in a panning motion.

"Natural light can be finnicky...but things like these can be breath taking...Wonderful shot"

At this,something comes to the rider's mind. "Why do you...record all these things? Arent they painful reminders? Do you do it to inmortalize yourself?"

The mortal looked down and smiled,shaking their head"in film,we tell stories. I want to tell this story...our story" the camera bends down to record him. And he huffs,all afluster.

"The nephilim are not worthy of remembrance".

"But you horsemen are. Your stories are worth sharing. And im making sure they happen. Your voice deserve to be heard"

"What makes you so certain?"

"I...Im not sure. Its just a feeling.."

He saw the way the human's brows knit together. They chew the inside of their cheek and turn the camera to take the view of Ruin's firey mane.

"Wonderful films have been made out of less. Sure,your stories are amazing and interesting- but thats not quite It. We have all seen stories of guts and glory,of massacres...but you horsemen are different. Unique."

"We're the accursed union of Angel and Demon. We're unique because we shouldnt exist "

He feels them kick him with the heel of their foot. "Dont say that about yourself. Good god" they sigh,looking at the sunset "theres nobody in this world like you four, youre unique in a wonderful way. You are a union of angel and demon but youre nothing like them. Youre uniquely independent, in a League all of your own. I seek to understand it I guess- I want to tell your stories because..."

The words are on the tip of their tongue. So annoying...

And War sounds almost...meek in asking. He hopes of acknowledgement, of being seen, as deep down as that feeling is.

"Because theres simply nothing like you,and I think everyone deserves to know how noble,how kind and how strong you are. Maybe we can even learn something from you for. Your courage and disposition are unmatched. As scarred as you May be,as hurt even...I just think you deserve to be shown and appreciated for your uniqueness"

The rider was unsure on what to say. They are perhaps the only being in existence that appreciates the four in this way. And...he quite likes it.

"No doubt you'll make it far in your carreer" he complimented after a long silence."few beings in existence have the heart that you do..."

He heard them chuckle, their shadow moving as they hook their feet under his armor to stand up and bring their camera further up,showing the low brush and lushness that begins to overtake the landscape. The blue hour fully setting in.

"Will you come watch what I make?"

It was so obvious there was a slight hint of humor. He could tell the human wasnt at all convinced he actually cared for their art.

Too bad he means to show them he does

"To see the fruits of your hard labor? Of course. "

He hears the slight sniffing,he feels the slight trembling..."Ill- ill get you the best- best seats at the theatre. I promise"

War raised his normal hand to wrap around their calf, as a comfort but as a steadying force. "Ive no doubt you'll uphold your word"

#darksiders #darksiders fury #darksiders death #darksiders war #darksiders strife #darksiders horsemen #darksiders x reader #darksiders 2 #darksiders 3 #darksiders genesis

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invisibleicewands · 1 month ago

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Actor Michael Sheen has unveiled his ambitions to "buck the trend" in Wales with the launch of his recently announced Welsh National Theatre, revealing plans to commission original work and "galvanise" the sector.

He said that ideas were already "bubbling away" for the new company, announced last week, which he added would be "lean" and not subservient to external funding.

Sheen said that his new organisation was set to unleash "a canon of great Welsh plays just waiting to be discovered" on "the grandest stages around the world" following the closure of the National Theatre Wales in its current form.

Speaking to The Stage on the day of his company’s launch, Sheen said that although behind-the-scenes planning long pre-dated the announcement in December that NTW had ceased operations, the precarious state of the Welsh performing arts industry had compelled him to take action.

Sustained squeezes to funding has left remaining Welsh theatres hampered by "eye-watering" building costs, staff burnout and a skills drain, research by Creu Cymru revealed last week.

Asked if the jeopardy facing Welsh theatre made him nervous for his venture, the actor said: "I’d be very foolish to not take on board what the climate is like, but I’m using that as a springboard to go in the other direction.

"It’s because of the situation, because of the circumstances and how difficult and bleak they’re looking – that is my incentive."

Recalling hearing the news that National Theatre Wales’ funding had been scrapped while rehearsing for his role as NHS founding father and Welshman Aneurin Bevan in Nye, Sheen said the company’s closure a year later "didn’t come as a massive surprise, but it was still incredibly upsetting that we’ve been left without a national theatre in Wales".

Now Sheen is to finance certain elements of a new Welsh National Theatre as well as running it as artistic director.

"I’m a unique position in some ways," he told The Stage, "I have my own resources. And I don’t just mean financially, although that is part of it. I can buck the trend, or at least try to change the current a bit. I don’t have to go cap in hand to people right now.

"There are enough people who want to work with me as an individual that I can say: ‘Okay, how about working with us as a company?’ I can convene people, I can get doors opened, I can commission playwrights and hopefully I can galvanise and catalyse things in a way that maybe other people are not in a position to do. I want to make the most of that while it’s still the case."

Despite ongoing discussions with public sector organisations, there is, as yet, no confirmed external funding stream for the Welsh National Theatre. However, Sheen has said that this tighter way of operating suited him.

"In my experience of things I’ve done outside the acting world around activism, supporting community development projects, I’ve found that keeping things very, very simple and lean allows you to focus on your actual incentive and ideals," he told The Stage.

"I’m hoping that what we can do is create work of quality and that is popular enough for people to come in high enough numbers to be sustainable so that we’re not relying too much on outside funding and, if we are, that it’s diversified so that we don’t leave ourselves vulnerable by being too dependent on any one source of funding."

Details are still to come about the Welsh National Theatre’s first production, which is tipped to be staged at Cardiff’s Wales Millennium Centre and to feature Sheen himself.

The artistic director, who has received four Olivier nominations during his career, said he currently planned to produce one large-scale show per year, and hoped that the company’s annual output would increase in future.

"I could, potentially, announce a three-year programme right now, but it’s still being organised," he said. "But even though we’ve essentially only launched today, there’s so much exciting stuff already bubbling away. I commissioned a new play today. There are already writers who are commissioned to do new stuff.

"But I want to start simple. So what we’re aiming for right now, with no funding, is one big production a year, but when circumstances allow it, we’ll expand. I don’t want to run before we can walk. I want to do the simple things really, really well – fantastic things on great stages for audiences that it’ll be meaningful for."

Wales-focused storytelling, Sheen continued, was the company’s key focus, something that he said had been under-programmed and under-nurtured in recent years.

"There are a lot of writers out there who are itching to write the big plays and just don’t feel that there’s the support for that," he said. "[Their plays] are not going to get a production – they’re going to get put on, if at all, for two nights in a studio. And, obviously, people write for what they’re going to get put on.

"So I want to create an environment for writers to be able to take a big swing, and feel supported in that – both new writing and looking at classic plays through a Welsh lens, picking out things that really resonate with Welsh culture and identity. I want to build up that canon."

Sheen also called for the government to commit to the importance of culture, contending that without an understanding that it was not simply an indulgence, negotiations about funding were "pointless".

"Before you get into any conversation about funding, which is of course extremely important, first and foremost I think there needs to be a conversation about why we need art, culture and theatre," he told The Stage.

"If the people who have the levers of power and who hold the purse strings don’t actually believe in it, or understand what it represents, then it’s pointless getting into arguments about funding.

"The arts are not a luxury add-on. They are fundamental to how we function as a culture and as a society, how we understand ourselves and each other, how we process where we’ve been and what’s happening to us so that we can understand what the possibilities are for moving forward. Unless that conversation is had, then there’s no point talking about funding."

#Michael Sheen #Interview #Welsh National Theatre

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wisteriadumster · 10 months ago

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Annabelle ❥Dutch Van der Linde

･｡ﾟ☆:*.☾ ·☽.* :☆ﾟ.

DUTCH VAN DER LINDE X FEMALE READER

･｡ﾟ☆:*.☾ ·☽.* :☆ﾟ.

CW➻❥ smoking ⋆ fake death ⋆ drinking ⋆ unprotected sex ⋆ orgasm ⋆ body groping? ⋆

WC➻❥2133➻❥ this isn't well proof read so any mistakes or odd things are purely accidental

Summary➻❥ You’re an actress performing in Saint Denis. After the show a stranger appears and with some simple chatting you accept his advances and make it down to the block to the Bastille Saloon

You stood on the stage, thinking of your next line as your partner recited his.

“Oh for heaven's sake! Patrick, I will never marry you!” You yelled, a few gasps in the audience hit your ears.

“If I can’t marry you, then I refuse to let anyone else!” Your costar pulled the prop gun from his holster, he motioned the gun as if he was shooting, someone backstage shot a real gun to give the illusion. You grabbed your stomach and squeezed it hard, the bag of red water popped and began to bleed through your dress.

“Patrick, I” You began stumbling and stuttering, “I’m pregnant.” As the words left your mouth, the curtains closed. A round of applause began, the narrator walked past you and went outside the curtains.

You went backstage to begin changing, you slid out of the ballgown and grabbed your other one, this one had been perfectly painted for your death.

A costar tightened the back of it and patted your back, “doing great,” you smiled, “I try.”

The curtains opened to the new scene, your partner had your head in his lap as he sobbed, you stared into the floor as you pretended to lie lifeless.

Another costar came out, “Patrick, what is this!?” He put his hand to his chest in shock. “I, I” he stuttered, “did you kill my beloved Annabelle?”

He came closer to your “lifeless” body, “it’s not what it looks like, I.” He was interrupted with the planned death scene, he immediately fell, hitting the mattress hidden behind the curtain.

“Oh my dear Annabelle, what did you do to deserve this fate?” He leaned down and placed a kiss on your lips, he slowly pulled back and stood up.

“I’ll be back to bury you, Annabelle my love, you deserved the kingdoms, may you rest.”

The curtains fell back again, people clapped and whistled.

You and your cast all came to stage and locked your hands together, the curtains opened and you all bowed down to the amazing crowd.

The lights in the theatre brightened and the curtains fell back for the last time.

You entered the small dressing area that had been assigned for you, it was quaint but served its purpose. You grabbed a cigarette and stuck it between your lips and the match box, “damn.” You looked at the empty box, “mind if I help?” You jumped at the voice.

“Sir you’re not allowed here,” a sly grin formed on the man’s face. “Oh dear I was walking by when I heard you,”

He cleared his throat, “Dutch Van der Linde, my lady,” he held his hand out, you hesitantly placed yours in his, his lips laid a gentle kiss above your knuckles.

“Well Mister Van der Linde, why are you backstage?” You looked at his finely fitted suit, “my lady, I had some free time in my schedule, figured a show would do just the trick.”

He ignored the question and grabbed his own match then striked it, he held out the flame towards you.

You leaned in and watched as the flame ignited your cigarette, “thank you sir.”

You blew the smoke out, “would you like help with dress?” He smirked, “are you making advances towards me?” You took a drag of the cigarette, “are you accepting them?” He took out a small flask from within his suit and took a sip, “well let me change, and then we can go advance at a hotel.” You return the smirk to the attractive man, “I’ll be outside my dear.”

You stuck your arms through the sleeves of your coat and stepped outside the building, outside was brightly lit with the lights of the Théâtre Râleur.

You noticed the man leaning against a pillar, a cigar sat between his fingers. “You came,” he seemed almost surprised, “oh I’m sure your charming tongue does this all the time.”

You joke with the man, “shall we?” He stuck the cigar between his teeth and held out his arm, you connected your arm with his and began down the street.

“To the Bastille?” He asked, “why, you wanna buy me a drink?” You smiled, “adds to the fun,” he winked.

He pushed open the door, allowing you to enter first, the bar was alive and loud.

“Miss, what a lovely show tonight,” a woman smiled at you, “thank you,” you gave back the same smile.

“Two shots of whiskey sir,” you leaned the side of your body against the bar top, “whiskey?” Dutch fixed his top hat, “of course, why, did you want something more sophisticated?”

“You just know what makes a man happy,” he set two dollars down and grabbed his shot, “if that makes you happy, then just wait till I get my hands on you.” You took your own shot and tilted back your head as the liquid made its way down, “can I get a room?” Dutch held out more money, “first room on your right, anything else?” The bartender took the money, “another round for me and the lady.” Dutch's hands became moneyless as he looked back to you, “you really want me to be frisky.” You kissed his cheek, you took your shot and spun around, your eyes flirting for yourself.

Dutch quickly shot back his whiskey and started to follow you as you made your way upstairs.

His arm wrapped around the back of your waist as you both went upstairs, “you’re quite an eager man,” he laughed, “ma’am, I’m just a man who has plans, and you’re one of them.”

He opened the door to the luxurious room, you stepped inside and studied the room, Dutch closed the door quietly.

He removed his jacket and threw it on the chest at the end of the bed. He wrapped his arms around your stomach and pulled your back against his chest, he moved his hand and pushed back your hair, revealing your neck. He laid gentle kisses against your neck, they trailed up to your ear, then he spun you around and kissed your lips. His hands kept you pushed against his tall frame, you pushed your fingers through his hair, his top hat fell to the ground.

The kiss was languid as Dutch started to remove your coat, you liked the way that his lips lingered before taking back to get air, the pause of movement sent a rush through your body.

Once your coat was off, his fingers began to undo the strings on the back of your dress, his attention to undressing you never broke the kiss. You felt the tightness from the strings release, his hands travelled up your back and pulled on your sleeves, you pulled the dress down, revealing your underwear.

Dutch gently laid you on the bed, he pulled back and studied you, how you laid there so hungry for him. “You sure you want this?” Dutch wrapped his fingers around his pants, ready to remove them, “well I let you sweep me away from the theatre, didn’t I?” He let out a deep chuckle, “I would say you swept me away my dear.” He leaned over and kissed your jawline, he journeyed down your jawline and back onto your neck, his kisses lingering longer as they got lower down your body.

He laid kisses on your breasts, his hands were gripped around your ribcage. Your breathing was heavy and deep, as each sensation from Dutch’s lips touched your skin, sent sparks through your spine, like shivers.

Dutch pulled you up from the bed, he pulled down your underwear to your feet.

You tugged on the waistband of his pants, “turn around.” You complied and slowly turned away from Dutch.

His hands massaged your shoulders and bent you down, your elbows dug into the mattress.

One hand of Dutch’s gripped your left hip, his other hand slowly led his cock into your vagina.

His hands crawled down your arched spine, seizing control of your body by your waist.

Dutch thrusted slowly and intimately, he was letting out low groans, you were moaning into the blankets as he thrusted.

His mustache scratched your shoulder as he bit it, small bites that were practically rough kisses.

“Dutch,” you muffled out, his name came out louder and got quieter as he slowed his pace.

His panting had a hint of growling before he quickened his pace again, it was sudden and hard but that made it feel so good.

“You feel so damn good my dear,” a hand entangled itself in your hair, pulling your head out from the bed.

“Let them hear you,” he hissed, as he started to go harder.

Anyone outside the room would definitely be able to put together what was happening in the room, you were loud and almost obnoxious as his skin smacked against yours, loudly.

Your moans were turning into exhales as your climax was coming in, hard.

Dutch pulled out, he flipped you over, you both studied the other’s sweaty body, you both had lost the look of class and elegance from when you both met.

He leaned over you, putting his cock back inside and thrusting at his pace again as if nothing had happened.

He kissed you, consuming your moans as a hand was tight against one of your breasts.

“Every part of you makes me hungry,” his words pushed against your whining moans. His fingertips pinched against your nipple, making you squirm.

He groaned, his dominance against you making him harder.

It didn’t take much longer for your climax to hit its peak, every part of your body clenched before releasing as the overstimulation ran through every nerve.

You felt so weak and so pleasured, the feeling lingering as Dutch continued to hit the right spot at the right speed.

He pulled out, he laid his cock on your stomach and a loud groan came from his as warm cum covered your stomach.

He pulled from the kiss, you both laid there, heavily panting.

He set a soft kiss on your lips before he pulled back, “let me clean you up dear.” Dutch grabbed a towel that had been hanging on the coat rack.

“You don’t have,” “oh I insist my dear.” Dutch interrupted you, he wrapped the towel around you before grabbing his pants. “Are you going?” You stood up and began wiping yourself down, “I don’t sleep naked, but I wouldn’t mind if you did.” A dirty smirk was on his face as he fixed the waistband, “well I won’t reject the offer.”

You began wiping him with the towel, “I can take of myself, you get ready for bed, it sure is late.” Dutch grabbed the towel from you and patted under his arms.

You grabbed your clothes and set them besides Dutch’s on the chest. You looked back to him, a cigar was now sitting in between his lips, a match lighting up the end of it.

He walked to a window and looked out it, he removed the cigar and let the smoke flow out of his mouth before puffing the rest.

You stood beside him, you around your arms around his, taking the cigar and sticking it in your own mouth. “I like you,” he takes the cigar from your lips, “you know what you want, it’s attractive.” He leaned down and kissed you, taking the smoke from you.

“Would you like another round in the morning?” You asked, walking towards the bed, “Love, I’m sure I’ll be gone before you’re even awake, but I’d like another kiss.” He crushed the end of the cigar into the marble top of the small vanity.

He grabbed your bare hips and pulled you against him, his kiss was hungry, his teeth nipped at your lips. “It’s quite late,” you pulled back, “best be going to bed.” He smiled and nodded, “you’re absolutely right my dear.” He walked with you, his hand resting against the small of your back.

Dutch pulled back the sheets, “I’m sure a hard working actress needs her rest,” he grabbed your ass as you got into bed.

Dutch pulled the sheets over your body, taking in another look of your bare skin.

He crawled on top of you, his hand wrapped itself in your hair as he kissed you again, his lips so unwilling to break from it. Your hands wrapped around his neck before travelling up into his hair. He smiled against your lips before he rolled and dropped beside you, “you sleep well now my dear.” He turned and sat on the edge of the bed, “what are you doing?” You turned on your side and looked at his bare back, “I like to think before I go to bed.” You turned your back to his and closed your eyes.

#red dead redemption 2 #fanfiction #fanfic #red dead fanfic #writing #smut #x reader #dutch van der linde fanfic #dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde smut #wisteriadumster

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wooahaes · 1 year ago

Text

a little treat

pairing: art teacher!hyunjin x gn!drama teacher!reader

genre: fluff. teacher au. established relationship.

word count: 0.7k~

warnings: continuation of previous fic [(a lack of) decorum]. food mentions.

daisy's notes: i missed these two tbh

Ever since the two of you started dating, Hyunjin found himself naturally gravitating toward your classroom. At first you had tried to deny your relationship to… well, everyone. Mainly your too-nosy students, because you preferred to have some semblance of a private life outside of them. It was good to set boundaries, to be fair, but Hyunjin constantly drifting toward you made it hard to deny your relationship—especially when he wasn’t subtle at all with that lovestruck look on his face. Both of you had denied it to the other faculty for about a week before Seungmin told you both to give it up: all of them knew, so stop sitting as far from each other as possible. Seeing Hyunjin pout was getting to be too much.

That had been almost a year ago now. Winter break was fast approaching, which meant plenty of exams as well. Which meant you wanted to do something nice for them and throw a little party for your classes on the last day of class before break. You were far from the first teacher to give out candy canes (or candy in general—you had lollipops as backup) to their students, sure, but you had wanted to do something cute and tie little red ribbons around each one. Sure, they’d just get thrown to the side later, but it was the thought that counted, right?

Hyunjin had rolled his eyes at the thought. “They’re going to throw them away.”

Sure, the lack of encouragement could sting sometimes, but you honestly enjoyed when Hyunjin was blunt like this. It didn’t change your mind, but at least he felt comfortable enough to speak his. “Okay,” you’d continued your work at the dinner table without much of a second thought, “I just want them to look nice for my classes.”

Hyunjin clicked his tongue and pushed the manilla folder he’d set across from you aside. Without a word, he sat down in that chair, picking up another candy cane and another strip of ribbon.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping?” He looked up. “I never said I wasn’t going to help.”

“You just said it was dumb—”

“I said they were going to throw them away,” Hyunjin spoke over you quickly. “I never said it was dumb. I like it.”

You smiled to yourself, and set aside the candy cane you’d finished in favor of cutting more strips of ribbon for the two of you. “You’re cute sometimes, y’know?”

Immediately, his eyes met yours, “Sometimes?”

Snip! “I said what I said.”

Hyunjin frowned at you. “When am I not cute?”

‘Theatre season.” Snip! “Remember last year’s musical? You got very snippy—” Snip! “—When I asked you a simple question.”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, setting another candy cane into your basket before picking up another. “And? You were the one who didn’t check their email.”

He had a point, unfortunately. But at the same time… “You know what the musical does to me.”

“I know,” the hint of a smile crossed his lips, “it’s your passion. I still emailed you the answer that morning.” He looked up. “You didn’t tell me your classes were having a party.”

“Because you’d crash it.”

Another roll of the eyes, this time smiling. “The kids already know we’re dating.”

“No thanks to you.”

“Can you blame me?” With another candy cane done, Hyunjin reached across the table to rest his hand on yours. “I’m with you.”

Oh, how he could easily make you want to hide your face out of embarrassment. Hyunjin could be snarky as much as he could be romantic, and you had fallen hard for him in his entirety. “Are we still going to see your family over break?”

“Are we?”

You rolled your eyes this time. “That was the plan.”

“No, I mean… Do you still want to go?” He grew quieter for a moment. “I mean… You’ve met them before, but this feels like a big step…”

“I’ll go anywhere with you,” you smiled, taking his hand. “Alright?”

Hyunjin ran his thumb over your knuckles, smiling again now. “Alright,” he reaffirmed softly. “I love you.”

You gasped, “You love me?!”

And immediately he rolled his eyes, still smiling. “Maybe I do.”

“Well… Good,” you picked up another piece of ribbon, loosely tying it around his pinkie. “Because I love you, too, you goof.”

taglist: @twancingyunhao @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @jinnie-ret @cheesemonky

#wooahaes.dec23 #wooahaes.fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz x you #stray kids imagine #skz fics #stray kids fics #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x you #hwang hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x you

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svaints · 1 year ago

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Hi there! I was wondering if you could write a birthday drabble for how the one and only Yuu!Reader might spend their birthday.

Boyfriend Rook and the Pomefiore crew get all dolled up and see theatre performances (Hell maybe they go to one of Vil's). Afterwards Rook and reader have lunch at a fancy restaurant and enthuse about the performance.

Meanwhile everyone else is trying to get a party ready for NRC's favorite prefect. Riddle has sorted everyone into teams according to what they need to accomplish. Baking crew, Decorations crew etc. Best Friend Idia's tinkering away at their computer for a surprise.

𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝕳𝖚𝖓𝖙 | 𝕾𝖋𝖜

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫: 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐞𝐮𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤

Being woken up from your nap by Rook looking around your closet may have been the strangest thing you've seen him do till he explained he wanted you well dressed for a performance that was starting in two hours. It was 4 PM, on a weekend...the last thing on your mind was to get up from the comfort of your bed.

"Rook I'm not...in the best spirits." You were eluctant at first since the entire week had been a busy one, He looked backed from the closet and came to lay your clothes down. "Ah Mon amour, tell you what...get dressed, we'll go to Vil's performance, and then we head to your favorite restaurant." To be honest the thought of going to the restaurant that always had a fine view of the outside world and amazing food there was enough motivation. With that, you got ready within 20 mins.

Once it was 5:36 pm, Rook had made sure you both arrived to get seats front row after all he was happily there to encourage his friend and to enjoy the show with his partner.

Meanwhile...back at the college, everyone was busy preparing with Riddle being the leader.

"Great, so everyone is aware it's NRCs Favorite Perfect birthday. I only invited the House wardens because I am sure we don't need too many people here, it will be crowded especially with some not focusing on tasks. Oh and Ace, Trey, Deuce and Cater are extra help."

"Where's Idia then??" Asked Ace, "Idia is working on a gift for perfect. Now! I'll be working on the cake. Kalim decorations with Deuce, Malleus you can cut the fruits for the fruit salad with Trey, Silver with Cater on drinks such as punch, Leona you can blow the balloons up or use the gas tank just make sure to place them around the room in groups of three."

"Awesome.." Leona with arms crossed turned his gaze to the side.

Trey began rinsing the fruits they'd use while Malleus took the kitchen utensils out to cut them up. "Should I sharpen the blade on these?" Malleus asked Trey holding the knife down while he inspected it.

Leona was selecting which balloons would fit the color room best even if it was taking time to match since there was a bunch, "For what do we have all these balloons.."

"Where did you think those balloons came from in special events?" Kalim was carrying a box of party hats, poppers, table cloths, napkins...this boy was carrying a whole variety pack. "Ah, yeah I guess...do you need help with that?" Leona eyed the box surprised. "No, I got this but I can come back to help you with the balloons, I got Deuce setting chairs and tables up right now, I'm sure he won't mind."

Everyone was doing great helping one another when they could. Back to the Majestical Theatre, everyone was applauding Vil upstage as the curtains closed and lights began to brighten up.

"Ah, Magnifique! Wasn't that great dear?!" Rook smiled looking at you, "I agree he is gifted afterall." Vil never failed to make a show touch the hearts of many with his beauty and acts. It all becomes so real for the time being.

After the whole chaos getting out of the crowd being caught up with Vil, Rook took you to the restaurant. Finally alone and away from everyone.

The ambience of dim lights in the fancy place was welcoming as you talked about the performance. "The way he changes outfits back to back must be exhausting, I'd probably get mixed up with the clothing knowing in 5 seconds I have to be back up to play whatever character is next!"

Rook let out a chuckle nodding, "It's truly a chore yes, mon dieu." He shook his head smiling before looking down and took out a small red velvet box with a gold ribbon on it, handing it to you. "Open it."

You smiled and took it from his hands eyeing the box before opening it to see a necklace you've been saving up on for quite some time.

"Rook are you serious! You didn't have to...ahh, it's like I imagined it to be..." He only admired the corner of your lips curve into a grin. "Happy Birthday mon lapin!" He admired the way the necklace decorated your neck, how it complimented your skin color and all, it was meant to be worn by you.

"Thank you, I love it." You smiled holding his hand from across the table as he tightens his grip on yours.

Back in at the College, everyone was finished after the busy afternoon. The kitchen was cleaned up after Riddle suggested it so everyone could enjoy the party.

"This is great, honestly." Silver sighed smiling. "Yes for once I agree. Now we hide." As soon as Riddle said it, everyone scrambled to their positions with the party poppers.

Rook was already walking you down to the venue with his hands on your wrists making sure to keep your hands covering your eyes. "Don't peek at all, at all!" He chuckled.

"I feel like you're trying to lead me into trouble again.." You giggled and suddenly hear the door shut behind you, his grip gone. "Rook?..."

The party poppers went off as soon as the lights came on causing a slight startle.

"Happy Birthday!" Everyone cheered as you laughed the shock off. "Jesus so many surprises!" Rook stood beside you and leading the way to the cake being lit up.

It seemed perfect moment with everyone wishing you the best as the favorite in the college. Everyone talking about the first impressions, the memories you've given them, how they felt their lives change once you came and gave them another thing to look forward to.

At the end of the day after clean up, you took the gifts to your room with the help of Rook. One gift specifically caught your eye seeing it was from your best friend, Idia.

"What's wrong?" Asked Rook watching your eyes admiring the gift all around before opening it. It had bubble wrap all around, a flat glass with buttons such as replay, forward, backward, and pause.

"I'm not sure what this is..." You said before pressing play and the glass lit up above you replaying the moment everyone sang Happy Birthday to you.

You smiled seeing it play before your eyes. Pressing forward played the moment you danced with Rook for the first time in the Masquerade ball, first time actually having a full conversation after he helped you too.

Rook sighed lovingly remembering the scene before taking the gift and set it down, taking your hand with his and pulled you in closer to dance.

"I'll never forget the day, it's the most enchanting moments of my life...the scenery and the beauty before me..." He looked down at you wanting to relive it all.

Thinking about it, Idias request to have you half a day to put you to sleep while having those small patches on your temples and head made sense as weird as it was.

He wanted to have something to look back to be able to feel it all again just as it was the first time.

Now and then when you feel a little sentimental, all you'd have to do was turn the lights off and let all your memories replay before you. Idia even made sure to had you a guide on how to make it work, he had broken down many steps saving you from the endless hours of coding and combining you would've had to do.

Now all it takes was a to put the patches on and let them process or a usb would do fine.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #idia shroud #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt twst #twst rook hunt #twst rook #twisted wonderland x yuu #twisted wonderland rook hunt #rook hunt #twst x yuu #twisted wonderland rook #pomefiore rook #pomefiore #HunterDeAmour

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oldiesstationlover11607 · 3 months ago

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HIHIHI this isn't an idea for the "Daughter" fic but I'd figured to just throw it out here lol! OKAY OKAY so like... hear me out. Music teacher/band instructor Josh and Theatre teacher teacher... I JUST THINK IT WOULD BE SO CUTE. the students would be shipping them fr fr! okay im done with my yappings... ALSO MAY I HAVE 🎻ANON?

The Bleachers - Josh Dun x Reader

Warnings: None really hehe - super fluffy

Word count: about 1285

A/N: Absolutely loved this request 🎻! It was super cute and fun to write so thank you!!

“Sorry, Mr Dun, do you know what time the pep rally is supposed to be on Friday?” I asked, catching our music teacher in the hallway between bells. Kids were rushing past each other, running to their classes as the five minute countdown till the next bell ticked away in everyone’s heads.

“It’s at seven, I tried to change it to seven thirty because of the band’s practice time but Principal Higgins said it was already booked and parents were already set on coming at seven,” he shrugged. Mr Dun was one of the younger teachers at our school. Our old music teacher was an older man who only ever taught the students classical music and when he retired suddenly we were forced to find someone at the last minute. Which meant any local musician regardless of whether they had their teaching degree yet. Que Josh Dun, a drummer who had reached out to the school after seeing their ad online and had managed to land the job as soon as he started talking about music concepts our principal didn’t know about, making him the smartest person in the room. Both of us being the two youngest teachers at the school had made it easy for us to become friends, especially when it came to gossiping about our favorite students (which we most certainly did NOT have).

“Thanks Mr Dun! Hey, I’ll see you at lunch right?” I asked, looking at him as I stopped outside my classroom door.

“Of course,” he smiled, his expression relaxed as I admired him quietly. “But only if you stop calling me ‘Mr Dun’, Y/N. It’s Josh!” I nodded, trying to suppress a laugh as the final bell rang. “I should get going, I’ve got a freshman class waiting for me,” he explained, giving a cute wave before disappearing down the hall.

Josh, I mused, trying it out in my head. It felt strange, personal. But I liked it. As the last few kids poured into the auditorium I made my way to the stage–most of the kids were already sitting in a circle ready for the lesson. I loved my theater kids, each of them were their own person, unique in the best way possible and unafraid to sing and act their hearts out.

I glanced up and recognized Amanda, a junior with a flair for the dramatic—both onstage and off.

“Miss Y/L/N?” she asked, tilting her head with a knowing smile. “Can I ask you something?”

I chuckled. “Wouldn’t that already be asking me a question?” The class laughed at that. “Go ahead.”

“It’s just…” Amanda paused, glancing around before lowering her voice. “Why don’t you just ask Mr. Dun out already?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Amanda! What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on!” she whispered, practically giddy. “Everyone’s seen the way you guys talk to each other. And he definitely likes you—I mean, the way he looks at you? Please, Miss Y/L/N. You’d be so cute together!”

I felt heat creep up my cheeks as I waved her off, trying to sound as teacher-like as possible. “I’m pretty sure your English teacher wouldn’t be thrilled to know you’re spending your passing periods coming up with romantic conspiracies about your other teachers, especially given that I know juniors have a large project going on at the moment.”

But she just grinned wider. “I’m telling you, you’d be adorable. Just think about it!”

By the time lunch rolled around, I was still thinking over Amanda’s comments as I made my way to the teachers’ lounge. Sure enough, Josh was already there, leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee, chatting with Mr. Larkins from the math department. He looked up as I walked in, giving me a grin.

“There you are,” he said, gesturing for me to join him. “I was starting to think I’d be eating lunch alone today.”

“Oh, as if you wouldn’t survive without me,” I joked, pulling out a chair across from him. I unwrapped my sandwich, catching the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eye as he stirred his coffee.

“So, what’s on your agenda for the pep rally?” he asked, casually shifting the conversation back to our usual teacher-to-teacher banter.

I shrugged, trying to keep things casual. “Oh, just wrangling the theater kids and making sure they don’t spill paint on any of the props they’re hauling out. You know how they are.”

He laughed. “They’ve got spirit. I respect that.”

Our conversation flowed easily, as it always did, moving from school plans to weekend plans, with just a hint of that unspoken familiarity between us. It was one of my favorite parts of the day, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same.

Finally, Friday night rolled around, and the energy in the gym was buzzing with excitement. The bleachers were packed with students and parents, everyone cheering as the pep rally began. I caught a glimpse of Josh on the far side, directing his band students with his usual cool ease. He gave me a thumbs-up when our eyes met across the gym, and I couldn’t help but feel a little jolt in my chest.

The rally itself was a success—the theater kids managed to keep all the decorations intact, the cheerleaders nailed their routine, and the band had the whole gym swaying and clapping along. It was a perfect moment of school spirit, the kind that made even the most stressed-out teachers feel a little extra pride.

Once everything wrapped up, I helped usher the students back to their designated spots and started packing up the leftover decorations. That’s when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

Turning, I saw Josh standing there, grinning down at me. “Nice work keeping your kids in line,” he said, hands shoved into his pockets. “Some impressive crowd control skills you’ve got.”

“Same to you,” I replied, matching his smile. “The band sounded amazing tonight.”

“Thanks,” he murmured, his voice softening a bit. “Want to… take a break from cleaning and get some fresh air? Just for a minute?”

I hesitated, then nodded, heart beating faster as we slipped out one of the side doors and made our way under the bleachers. The night air was cool, crisp with a hint of autumn, and the muffled cheers of students could still be heard behind us. Standing there under the stars, I felt the entire week’s stress melt away.

“Can I admit something?” he said, his voice almost a whisper. I nodded, feeling the tension growing between us. “I look forward to those lunches with you more than I probably should.”

I felt my cheeks warm again, like Amanda’s words were echoing back to me. “You know what? Same here.”

Josh took a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush my shoulder, and for a second, I forgot about everything else—the pep rally, the students, the school itself. It was just him, looking at me with those soft, inviting eyes.

And then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he leaned down, and his lips met mine. The kiss was warm and sweet, filled with the unspoken words we’d both been holding back.

When he pulled away, he gave me that same gentle smile I’d come to know so well. “So, for our next date… what would you say to coming to one of my shows?”

I laughed, nodding without hesitation. “I’d say it sounds perfect.”

And as we stood there, grinning like kids under the bleachers, I realized that we weren’t so different from our students. We were reliving our high school years together under the bleachers.

REQUESTS OPEN

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padfootagain · 1 year ago

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Something Good (XXI)

Chapter 21 : In Heaven

Hello! Here is a new chapter for my Ben Barnes series!

Absolute fluffiness! I’ll give you a little bit of extra cuteness because we deal with serious stuff again ;)

Hope you like it!!! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Ben Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Slow burn, professor AU. No graphic depiction of nsfw content but… they’re making out… a lot… minors dni, thank you!

Summary: Coming out of a divorce and trying to get used to being a single mom, while teaching your classes at University, you thought your life could not get more complicated than it already is. But when you are asked to take care of the theatre club with the colleague that you really can’t get along with, you realize that everything can still get ten times more complicated in your life. And when you start actually liking Professor Barnes, the troubles only grow exponentially…

Word Count: 2453

Masterlist for the series – Ben Barnes’ Masterlist – Main Masterlist

You were not expecting for your relationship with Ben to get you in trouble at work.

As a matter of fact, as you stepped into the building on Monday morning, climbing up the stairs leading to your office, you were determined to keep your private life private. You would eat with Ben at lunch, and linger a little too long just to spend a little more time with him. And then you would go back to work. You would walk together to your cars, and perhaps you would allow him to steal a few kisses in the parking lot, leaning against your car, just like he had the previous week… but that would be all. You were a professional, and were perfectly capable of remaining one. His pheromones would not get the better of you.

Your respectable decision lasted a grand total of two hours. It disappeared the second your phone buzzed on your desk, and you saw Ben’s name appear on the screen.

Got a headache. Mind a coffee?

A thumb up was all you replied, jumping to your feet and hurrying outside…

You were finally telling yourself that you were ridiculous to be walking so fast down this corridor when you spotted Ben hurrying towards you, his glasses slightly lopsided on his nose, a grin on his lips.

You merely quickened your pace…

“Hi!” you breathed, standing before the open door of the cafeteria.

“Hi,” he smiled, his voice calmer than yours, but the same happiness shining through the warmth of his tone.

Grinning. That’s all both of you seemed able to do. Grinning like the two fools you were…

It lasted for a moment, spent merely staring, able to do nothing but to look into each other’s eyes, and to think that he truly looked adorable with his glasses, and that you looked absolutely lovely in this green pullover…

You were interrupted and pulled back to earth as one of your colleagues walked between the two of you to exit the cafeteria. You both looked away in a hurry, Ben’s cheeks growing crimson.

And then the conversation was started over the coffee machine. Smooth, fluid, natural, the way it always was with him. You both took your time to empty your cups, unwilling to part even just for a couple of hours. The last gulp of your coffee was cold, you didn’t mind.

But when you looked up, ready to go back to your office, to part ways for a handful of hours, you got caught in these dark eyes of his, the ones you couldn’t tell the borders of. And God, you wanted to kiss him so bad…

You weren’t sure what came over you when you asked your next question, the words changing as they formed on your tongue.

“Would you mind checking something with me for the theatre club?”

Ben raised a surprised eyebrow, a slight frown forming on his delicate features, but he smiled all the same.

“No, of course not. Let’s go to my office. It’ll be quieter to work.”

You nodded, clasping your hands together as you followed him, nerves tightening your throat…

Were you really about to do this? At work?! How old were you? Sixteen and full of hormones?

But then Ben opened his door, then closed it behind you, although it wasn’t locked. He turned to you, opening his mouth to speak. But he didn’t have time for a single word to pass his lips…

Instead, you were kissing him, his face in your palms and your fingers in his hair. It took him a couple of seconds to register what was happening, but as soon as the shock had passed, he was pulling you closer to him, and kissing you back.

He looked a little stunned when you eventually pulled away, glasses a little lopsided, a blur spot at the bottom of the right glass left by your forehead.

He cleared his throat, taking off the spectacles and putting them away on a nearby shelf.

“So… that was what you wanted to talk about?”

You bit down your lip, an adorable sight, he reckoned…

“I mean… I couldn’t simply tell you that I wanted to kiss you. Not in public, at least.”

He laughed at that, bright and earnest, coming straight from the heart.

“Should we make it some sort of code then? “Discussing theatre club matters” now means “snogging in my office”?”

You shied away, averting your eyes, and Ben laughed again, his chest still rumbling with laughter as he pressed his lips to your hairline.

“Relax. I wanted to kiss you too.”

“Really?”

“I always want to kiss you. One of your many annoying traits...”

You giggled at that, wrapping your arms around him to hold him into a hug, your head resting on his shoulder now.

And God, that scent… oud, citrus, cinnamon and something impossibly him…

“You’re too handsome. That is an annoying trait of yours,” you countered, feeling his smile against your hair.

“Well… thank you, darling.”

“God, I really like that.”

“Darling?”

“Hmmm… it’s nice to be called like that again.”

When you looked up at him, it was only to capture his lips with yours once more. If the kiss started slow and tender, it quickly got a little out of hand. But then again, you only had one step to take to press him against the door, it was so easy…

You groaned when Ben pulled away, ready to pull him down to you again, but he merely locked the door before his eyes were on you again.

You had barely registered what was happening that Ben was lifting you up from the ground. As a reflex, you wrapped your legs around his waist, although you had no doubt he wouldn’t let you fall. But then again, it made you be closer to him…

He gently put you down on the edge of his desk, blindly pushing away pencils, notebooks, books and sheets of paper to make more room for you. The piles fell on the ground in a thud.

You looked at the mess with a raised eyebrow, and Ben seized the occasion to assault your neck with his teeth and tongue.

You blinked, moving your head back to give him better access and you forced out a breathy whisper.

“We’re making a mess.”

“Don’t care,” he mumbled, biting gently at your pulse, and you couldn’t help but close your eyes at the feeling.

“You’re sure?”

“I could not care less…”

He looked at you again when you chuckled.

“I’m making you messy!”

He grinned, gently brushing his nose against yours, your breaths mingling in the small space between you…

“I like it. I like you.”

You weren’t sure when he lost his pullover, or when the buttons of his shirt were undone, or when you found yourself without a camisole. It didn’t really matter.

“We can’t do this at work,” you shook your head, breathless, trying to calm down, although Ben’s hands travelling across your ribs didn’t help in the slightest.

“No one would know,” he whispered into your ear, unbearably tempting. “Damn, I want you so bad…”

You had to stop him when you felt him unclasping your bra, gently pushing on his shoulders, shaking your head.

“I can’t do this…”

Slowly, he nodded, and if you could have made out his pupils from his irises, you would have noticed how dilated they were. But he still took a few deep breaths, and a step back.

“You’re right,” he nodded. “This is… pure madness.”

“Yeah, and illegal, I bet.”

“Probably.”

“We would commit a crime. I could go to prison.”

The ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“I highly doubt you would be sent to jail for having sex in my office, but we could probably get fired.”

“Yeah… and that would be bad.”

“Terrible, actually.”

“So, we should stop, and get back to work.”

Slowly, Ben nodded.

“Or we could put our clothes back on, and kiss some more, and snog for a while.”

Slowly, you nodded.

“Or we could snog, without putting our clothes back on.”

“Sounds like a perfect plan.”

“Yeah…”

It took a grand total of 28 seconds before the rest of the paperwork splayed on Ben’s desk was scattered on the ground, and Ben’s hand was trembling as he turned his computer screen to make more room for you. When he unclasped your bra, this time around, you didn’t stop him.

You didn’t stop him at all, instead, you merely laid back and grinned as he followed you down, bent over you…

“Now, be honest with me: how many chocolates did you eat?”

Ben let out a bright laugh, shaking his head, and yet, despite the slight blur of his image on the screen, you didn’t fail to notice the way he blushed.

It was a little strange to see him in his childhood’s bedroom. Mostly kept unchanged, as he didn’t fail to tell you, and to give you a little tour. Nothing too embarrassing though, just an awful lot of Queen and Bowie posters.

You also caught sight of a picture of him when he was 16 and you would never let him live this down…

“Too many, probably… but they were very tasty!” he argued.

“Hmmm… so much for being a responsible adult during the holidays!”

“Aren’t you supposed to go buy a gift for you mom? 48 hours before Christmas?”

“Shut up.”

He laughed at that, bright and loud, and filling up the space between your molecules with warmth.

“Is your brother as annoying as you expected?” you asked, raising your head as you heard some noise coming from the corridor.

“Oh, yes! You have no idea. I’m considering asking my parents to disown me so I don’t have to ever see his face again.”

You smiled fondly at the screen.

“So, you still adore him.”

“More than ever, sadly.”

You exchanged an amused smile, before the padding of feet across the floor made you look up from the phone again. You smiled at your daughter as she appeared, her hair a little dishevelled, her favourite super hero t-shirt on.

“Who’s on the phone, mommy?”

“It’s Ben, honey! Do you want to say hello, angel?”

She beamed.

“BEN!”

She rushed to you, making you laugh, and you secured her landing on the sofa by your side as she jumped.

“Hi, meerkat!” Ben grinned, waving at your daughter as soon as she appeared.

“Hi, Ben!” the small girl waved too. “Are you in London?”

“Yeah, I’m at my parents’.”

“Did you see your mommy and your daddy?”

“Hmm hmm,” he nodded. “They’re just fine.”

“When are you coming back?”

“In a week. I’m staying with my parents for Christmas.”

Slowly she nodded.

“Christmas is better with your mommy,” she agreed, making you chuckle.

“Indeed!”

“When you come back, can we go back to the zoo? Because they have a new snake!”

He chuckled fondly.

“Sure, if your mom is up for it, then so am I.”

Sally turned hopeful eyes towards you, and you nodded.

“Sure, we can go there before the end of the holidays.”

“YES!”

She did an adorable happy dance, before starting to babble away about her afternoon with her grandmother.

But she was interrupted by a knocking sound on Ben’s end.

“I’m sorry, ladies! I need to go, my mom is calling for me,” he explained, waving at the two of you. “Have a nice evening!”

“But I didn’t finish my story…”

“You can tell him the rest tomorrow, angel, Ben needs to go,” you told her gently, before waving at Ben.

“Bye, have a nice evening with your family!”

“Thanks, darling. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay!”

You ended the call as Sally was protesting some more, and Ben couldn’t refrain the fond smile that tugged at his lips as he got up and walked outside his bedroom…

…to fall face to face with his brother and mother.

“Who were you talking to?” Jack asked with a frown.

“You called her ‘darling’! Are you seeing someone?” his mother asked, excitement audible in her voice.

Ben heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes.

“I am not talking about this with you, guys.”

“You know, if you need any advice…”

“No! Mom! No advice!”

“I’m a professional!”

“I know, and I am not your patient.”

“I know. You’re my son. That’s why I’m not making you pay for my wisdom.”

“How generous…”

“Don’t try to change the subject!” admonished Jack. “Who were you on the phone with?”

“A friend.”

“A friend? Or a girlfriend?”

“Shut up, Jack! Ha! Dad! Please, tell them to stop pestering me with questions!”

“Who’s pestering you?” asked Thomas, looking at his family entering the living room, looking up over his spectacles from his crosswords.

“Take a guess.”

“I am not contradicting your mother over whatever she has decided to bother you with.”

“Thank you, love!”

“Dad,” Jack chimed in. “Ben has a girlfriend!”

The newspaper was discarded in the blink of an eye.

“Really?!”

“Why are you all acting like it’s something unbelievable? Thanks for boosting my confidence,” Ben mumbled, moody.

“For how long have you been together? What’s her name? How do you know her?” his brother bombarded him with questions.

“Stop it! It’s nothing…”

He was going to say it was nothing serious, but it would have been too much of a lie. He bit his tongue.

“It’s brand new. Nothing to get overexcited about.”

“How long is brand new?”

“A little over a week?”

“And you’re already spending hours on the phone?”

“Twenty-five minutes,” Ben rolled his eyes. “And we were friends before deciding to give this a try. So, it’s not that strange… Besides… I missed her…”

“Oh. My. God. You’re in love with her!”

“I’ve just told you, it’s been a week! Calm down!”

“Who is she?! We need to know everything, honey! Sit down, please!” Tricia insisted.

“There’s nothing to tell, we’ve been on two dates, relax!”

“And that’s all you needed to fall for her? Like…”

But then the light of realization shone through Jack’s features.

“Holy shit! That’s the girl you brought to the Halloween party! Your colleague!”

“The cute woman with the witch outfit?” Thomas asked, and Ben grew suddenly very confused.

“How do you know about that?”

“Is it her? Am I right?” Jack insisted.

Ben heaved a sigh.

“Yeah, it’s her.”

“I knew it! I knew you had feelings for her!”

Ben rolled his eyes again, blushing fiercely.

“Right, I have a girlfriend, it’s nothing extraordinary, really. Calm down…”

But when Tricia held his hand, her eyes were glimmering.

“I’m so glad you’re finally moving forward…”

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