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jjunieworld · 10 months ago

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don’t delete the kisses ｡ﾟ🎶 ⋆₊

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader

genre: angst, smut, ex-bestfriends to lovers, ex bff!beomgyu, musician!beomgyu, mutual (unknown) pining, fluff if you squint, non-idol!au, alcohol/drinking

synopsis: two years ago, you admitted to yourself that you were in love with your bestfriend beomgyu. two years ago, you and your bestfriend beomgyu stopped being bestfriends. now he’s an up and coming musician and you see his face and hear his music almost everywhere in your local city; not knowing that the songs he writes are about you.

warnings: tipsy sex (consensual), soft sex basically, lots of yearning, unprotected sex (wrap it then tap it), oral (f. rec), kinda service top!beomgyu, slight overstimulation (m. rec), beomgyu is really just catering to y/n, some hair pulling (m. rec), multiple orgasms, creampie, petnames (baby), aftercare

word count: 9.3k┊v-day event masterlist┊masterlist

a/n: based off don’t delete the kisses by wolf alice and part three of my v-day event! i didn’t mean for this to be 9.3k omg. be glad i didn’t have the party hosted by jackson wang lmao.. sorry if the lyrics are kinda bad i am nawt a songwriter (there’s no like certain tune to them so reading them regularly is fine)! this beomgyu is the one i was imagining in this (he’s sooo fucking pretty). i hope you enjoy! ♡

two years ago, you admitted to yourself that you were in love with your bestfriend beomgyu.

it was a jarring realization; realizing that you’ve been harboring these slowly growing feelings for him all this time. it was as if one day the house was empty and the next all of the furniture and decorations were displayed and put up. like beomgyu had lived in the recesses of your mind all this time and you’ve never even known.

your acceptance was gradual, mainly because you had buried yourself in your studies along with beomgyu so you didn’t spend as much time together as you both would have wanted. he was studying music, his passion since before you’ve even known him, and you were studying writing. beomgyu was working on his debut ep and you were working on your debut novel.

you had noticed it when you started to realize how much the love interest in your novel reminded you of him. and then how much of your love interest actually was beomgyu, down to similarities in their physical description. it was a moment that beomgyu himself was present for, surprisingly.

beomgyu was sitting on your couch, strumming chords lightly and humming softly to himself as he polished up one of the songs he was writing. you were in the corner of the room at your desk, proofreading the chapter you had just written. a gasp had left your lips as you stared wide eyed at the bright white screen in front of you.

the strumming abruptly stopped as beomgyu turned to you, “what is it?” you bit down on your bottom lip as you read the paragraph over and over again. you saw him shift in the corner of your eye and knew he was about to come and see for himself. quickly, you changed the tab to the one that held your outline. “it’s nothing,” you turned, smiling over at him. “just realized that i accidentally created a huge plot hole…” beomgyu chuckled before returning back to his song.

that night, you had read over everything you’ve written so far in a flurry. beomgyu was everywhere in your novel. from the main character to the side characters to the love interest. there was no escaping him.

“shit,” you muttered as you trailed a hand down your face, throwing your laptop onto your bed as you got up to get a drink from the kitchen. tiptoeing past beomgyu’s room in your shared apartment, you reached the kitchen quietly, hopeful that you didn’t somehow wake him.

turns out that was pointless since beomgyu was leaning against the counter, eyes trained on you. you jumped and threw a hand against your chest. “why aren’t you asleep?!” you whisper-yelled, even though there was no need since it was only the two of you in the apartment. beomgyu grinned, putting the cup he was holding to his lips, “why aren’t you?” he spoke softly as well and you walked over to join him.

beomgyu shined hazily in the orange stove light and you took a sip from the glass of alcohol you poured as you looked at him. the two of you stood there for a moment, quietly taking in each other’s presence.

“so why are you awake? it’s almost four in the morning,” beomgyu asked quietly as he broke the silence. you looked towards the living room and took another sip from your glass. “i was proofreading… you?” you asked, looking back to him. “songwriting,” beomgyu responded. you hummed, nodding a little. “wanna hear what i have so far?” he then asked. you nodded more and he led you to his room.

beomgyu’s laptop was open on his bed, all kinds of cords connected to it. his guitar was strewn across it, like he had tossed it on his bed haphazardly in frustration. beomgyu picked the guitar up and sat it back on it’s stand near the wall. sitting on his bed, he patted the spot next to him so you could join. then, he put the headphones over your head and pressed play on his laptop.

music traveled through your ears. it was just the instrumental, but already you could tell how beautiful the song was gonna be. you looked over at him, a proud smile on your face when suddenly you heard his voice. it was only soft background vocals, the ones that you could barely make out, but it sounded heavenly. when the music ended, your smile stretched from ear to ear and you raised your hands to cover it. “that was beautiful, beomgyu! seriously!”

he gave you an unsure look, “is it? i’m not really sure about it. i feel like it might mess with the flow of the ep…” you shook your head rapidly, the headphones almost coming off. “no you have to keep it, it’s amazing! it’s gonna be even better once you add your voice.”

beomgyu beamed as he took in your words. “i gotta hear it again,” you grinned, pressing play on the laptop. you faintly heard beomgyu’s laugh behind the music.

you would give anything for all of your nights—or early mornings—to be exactly like this. the two of you here together, side by side. laughing together and sharing your passions together. to stay with beomgyu until the very end.

two years ago, you and your bestfriend beomgyu stopped being bestfriends.

just like you admitting and realizing your feelings for him, it was sudden. as sudden as storm clouds slowly passing over the sky and the fury of rain could be. it was late morning and the two of you were on your couch; beomgyu’s guitar in his lap and you sitting next to him as he strummed. he was playing one of the finished songs he had written, the one he had written for you. beomgyu had called it ‘graze.’

“her hair glowed in the sunlight as she grazed past me; like a leaf on a tree branch of a tree i’ll never see. over the canopy, it’s each other that we always seem to miss. when the darkness seals me in it’s cold maze, she sends me her remembrances in the form of a kiss,” you sung the lyrics together. beomgyu smiled warmly at you.

beomgyu had given you some insight into the lyrics he had written. the first part, “her hair glowed in the sunlight as she grazed past me; like a leaf on a tree branch of a tree i’ll never see. over the canopy, it’s each other that we always seem to miss,” was about the day you had first spoken. it was senior year of highschool and the two of you were paired together on a project. you were meeting somewhere to work on it, but you accidentally walked past the meeting place, completely passing by beomgyu unaware.

the next part, “when the darkness seals me in it’s cold maze, she sends me her remembrances in the form of a kiss,” is when the two of you had gotten close; close enough to share secrets and comfort each other through the thoughts they consumed. everytime the two of you texted, you would end the conversation off with an ‘xxx.’ kisses. it had become your thing with beomgyu, so much so that he wrote it into his song.

when the song had ended, beomgyu suddenly perked up. “let me show you the song i’ve been working on! the one i showed you the other day,” he exclaimed. he started strumming chords, humming softly as he began the song. “i only have, like, one lyric for it right now,” he interjected as he continued strumming.

“too powerful to overtake, oh, you’ve grown all over my mind…” beomgyu sang to the tune of his guitar. your smile faltered, but you managed to put it back in tact as beomgyu glanced up from his guitar to ask for your opinion. it was a love song he was writing. a love song for someone that wasn’t you.

“it’s beautiful, like all of your songs are. i like the new addition! how long have you been working on it?” you smiled, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. beomgyu began to blush as he turned to set his guitar aside, moving his hair over his ears. the tips of them were red. “for a little bit now. i just can’t seem to find the words of the feelings i want to convey,” he replied.

your glass heart shattered, it’s pieces making its way into your bloodstream. piercing pieces dug into beomgyu’s skin. “who’s the lucky person?” you asked, swallowing hard. he turned back to you and smirked. “just someone i’ve known for a while... i think we’re really starting to hit it off!”

after that day, you started to distance yourself from beomgyu. at first, it was only your feelings. limiting the amount of times you touched in any way or adding space between your bodies when you were near each other. then, it was almost as if the two of you were strangers living in the same place.

beomgyu had definitely noticed. you could feel his lingering look at the back of your neck. hear his questions in the air that hangs between you. but your feelings just wouldn’t go away. maybe they were right when they said that distance makes the heart grow fonder.

you locked yourself in your room, working on and rewriting your book over and over again. trying—and failing horribly—to remove beomgyu from the caverns of it. nothing worked, but you were desperate.

one day, beomgyu was playing his guitar a little too loud while you were in your room writing. usually, this wouldn’t be a problem at all. beomgyu always made sure not to be too noisy when you were writing, even though you always told him how much it helped you to have the background music. but this time, this time was different.

you were frustrated, agitated, still deep in love, and still deep in the great unreciprocated. you had flung your door open and stormed into the living room where he was playing and yelled at him to stop.

beomgyu looked up at you with wide, shocked eyes. it was dead silent for a moment, not even the sound of your breathing was heard. too late you realized what you had done. silently, beomgyu collected his things and made his way to his room, not sparing you a single glance or even a murmur. you watched him, an apology, an excuse on your lips.

the next day after you came home from researching at the library, you found a single note from him that was left on the kitchen counter. “i can’t live here with a stranger anymore,” was all it said. finally, you noticed how empty the apartment looked. how empty it looked for a while now. beomgyu was gone, and it was all your fault.

today, you could barely walk the streets of your city without seeing his face or hearing his music.

“UP AND COMING!” the article’s title had read as they delved into an interview with your former best friend. you pushed the laptop away, even after these two years apart you couldn’t face him. not even through a screen. couldn’t face how you tore your friendship apart because you couldn’t control your own feelings. maybe love just wasn’t meant for you.

you heard a sigh from next to you. “just read it!” your friend, yeonjun, drawled. “you’re mentioned.” you let out a sigh yourself with a roll of your eyes as you grabbed the laptop. “if i’m mentioned, it’s not gonna be something good.”

you scrolled down the article until you got to the part where beomgyu got interviewed. most of the questions were about his debut album and upcoming tour. you haven’t listened to any of his songs since he released his ep. hearing his voice was just too much. your eyes stopped on a question that mentioned one of the songs from his debut ep; your song.

Q. one of your more, if not most, popular song is a song called ‘graze.’ can you give us some input into what the song is about? how you came up with it? BEOMGYU: i actually had written the song for someone who i was very close to at the time. originally, the song was about the dynamics of our friendship. but as things change, so did the meaning of the lyrics. speaking of the lyrics, when i wrote the song i had come up with them first and the rest just kinda flowed after that. it was the first song that i had finished for my ep, and the one i was most proud of. i’m really happy that a lot of people enjoy the song!

you inhaled sharply at his answer. “but as things change, so did the meaning of the lyrics.” you weren’t expecting him to hold fondness for you after everything, after all this time, but his response did sting.

Q. you mentioned how the meaning of the song lyrics changed, does that tie into the title of the song? was ‘graze’ a double meaning this whole time? BEOMGYU: i guess you could say that! there wasn’t a double meaning at the beginning, but alas… to graze means to be scraped lightly in passing, to break the surface of the skin. but it also means to touch, to caress. to slightly damage or to gently touch.

Q. it also means to take in small quantities at frequent, did you know that? BEOMGYU: i didn’t! see how meanings can change!

blinking the tears brimming in the corner of your eyes away, you look back over to yeonjun. he looked at you with eyebrows raised and you shrugged at him. what did he want you to say? that you missed him? you did. that you wish things were different between the two of you? you do. what is that going to change?

“he mentioned the song he wrote! for you!” yeonjun exclaimed. you shrugged again, “he mentioned the song he wrote for someone he used to be close with. like he said, things change.” yeonjun groaned as he fell into the pillows on your bed.

shortly after beomgyu had moved out, you moved into a smaller, one bedroom apartment. it was eating away at you inside looking at how empty and lifeless your apartment you had shared with beomgyu looked. you couldn’t take how everywhere you looked, a memory of the two of you followed.

“he’s having a show at the arena downtown. we’re going,” yeonjun stated. your eyes widened and you furiously shook your head. “no… no i can’t.” two years and you crossed the street if there was a poster of him up next to the sidewalk. two years and you went everywhere with headphones, music blasting in your ears to cover his playing softly throughout the city. you couldn’t see him face to face. couldn’t watch as his smile faltered and his eyes lost their emotion as he looked at you.

yeonjun reached into his pocket and pulled out two tickets, “it’s too late, i already got the tickets. i can’t watch anymore as the two of you avoid each other. it’s been two years and not once have i seen the both of you in the same room let alone on the same block.” you put your face into your hands as you leaned over onto the bed, groaning loudly.

somehow you forgot that beomgyu and yeonjun were also friends. close friends at that. the two of them were friends before you and beomgyu were. you wanted to curse at the sky. “and don’t even try to find some way out of it either. i will drag you there kicking and screaming if i have to.” yeonjun added.

“but i have to finish writing my bo—“ you started before yeonjun swiftly cut you off. “it’s this weekend, so you have the whole week to prepare yourself.”

when you were alone that night in the comforting isolation of your bedroom, you let yourself scroll through your old messages with beomgyu. let your eyes wander over the ‘xxx’ at the end of your messages. you fingers moved on their own as they began typing out a message.

old apologies, old excuses. you had the nerve to add ‘xxx’ at the end like the two of you were still who you once used to be. you deleted the kisses at the end, deleted the message altogether. it’s not that you would ever send it anyways.

you thought about how your life would be if you and beomgyu weren’t strangers now. if you were more than best friends, getting to know each other again. you imagined late nights of you taking him out to bars in celebration of his new releases. pressing proud kisses to his lips as the alcohol and your love warmed the both of your bodies. shaking your head to yourself, you pushed the thoughts away. no use in daydreaming.

the damning beat of your heart got louder and louder the closer you and yeonjun got to the arena. the closer and closer you got to beomgyu. at the rate your heart was going, the sheer loudness would create a guilty beat for everyone to sing along to.

you handed in your tickets and made your way to the floor. when you read the tickets and saw that they were for the floor, you almost killed yeonjun. you thought you could be sly and sit somewhere in the seats, somewhere where beomgyu wouldn’t have a high possibility of seeing you. you were wrong.

yeonjun grabbed your wrist and pulled you close to the stage. when he tried to pull you right up against the barricade, you pulled away from him and he sighed. the two of you settled close to the stage, but not so close that you’d be touching noses with beomgyu. a compromise.

the lights had dimmed and the crowd had filed in until it was jam packed in the arena. your heart couldn’t help but swell with pride. he did it, he really did. he achieved the one thing he wanted the most, and you couldn’t be prouder of him for it.

the band came on stage and the crowd erupted with cheers and screams from all around you. you looked over to yeonjun, who was cheering along with them. you laughed, the sound being covered, but still there nonetheless. everything only got louder when beomgyu stepped onto the stage. you swear the girl next to you almost passed out.

when you saw him, the spotlight illuminating him—making him look like all of the stars in the sky, it was as if it was only the two of you in the room. the crowd of people around you faded and your breath hitched when he started to look over the crowd with a big warm smile. your face heated and you looked away, hiding so he wouldn’t see you. it’s been a while since you’ve done that.

what were you doing here? what was yeonjun thinking? that he would see you in the crowd and everything would fall into place? that he would call your name and the crowd would part as you made your way to the stage? that he’d take your hand and kiss you in front of everyone, in front of the whole world to see? what a stupid thought.

you wanted to leave but you were trapped from all sides. beomgyu sat on the chair that was placed in the center of the stage, his one and only guitar on his knee that you’ve become so accustomed to. “how is everyone doing tonight? well, i hope!” he said, strumming the strings of his guitar lightly. the crowd erupted again, words barely audible.

shaking your head, you grabbed yeonjun’s arm. “i can't do this, yeonjun. i want to go home.” he turned to you with furrowed eyebrows of worry. the girl next to you gave you an ear to ear smile, “i know right? isn’t he just so dreamy!” in turn, you gave her a barely disguised grimace and turned back to yeonjun. yeonjun laughed at your reaction, “get over it! let him sing to you! we’re staying.” he turned back to the stage and you realized that beomgyu had already began playing a song.

not just any song, the song that he wrote for you. he was singing ‘graze.’ yeonjun smirked at you and you’ve realized you’ve fallen into his trap. vaguely, you remembered that beomgyu always started out his shows with the song he had written for you. you wanted to use his guitar to bash your head in.

“her hair glowed in the sunlight as she grazed past me; like a leaf on a tree branch of a tree i’ll never see. over the canopy, it’s each other that we always seem to miss. when the darkness seals me in it’s cold maze, she sends me her remembrances in the form of a kiss,” beomgyu sang softly to the tune of his guitar. the live band behind him made the song more layered, in a way you haven’t heard since you’ve first heard the finished song.

“under newborn stars, we bear witness, we watched it all begin. i feel the heat of mars, my worn guitar, like her fingers against my skin,” beomgyu continued the song, the crowd singing along with him. you felt glassy tears in your eyes, threatening to fall. you couldn’t open your mouth to sing, not after all of the circumstances, so your heart sang for you. it was quiet, left only for the empty cathedrals of your ribs to echo back to you.

once he stopped singing, the music continued for a moment, letting everyone take in the song. beomgyu closed his eyes against the bright lights, his hands resting on the edge of his guitar. just as the song ended he opened them, an emotion you couldn’t quite make out in his eyes.

“now, for this next one, it took me a long time to write. two years in fact,” beomgyu spoke as he looked around at the crowd, a slight laugh in his tone. his eyes had just missed yours on his journey and you reeled back slightly in shock, looking up at him with wide eyes. “i just couldn’t seem to find the words to the feelings i wanted to convey. but luckily for you all, i managed to find them,” beomgyu smiled as he adjusted his guitar. “this one’s called ‘tattoos on strangers.’”

those words sounded strangely familiar. out of the corner of your eye, you saw yeonjun look over at you as the crowd cheered. you couldn’t even move to look back at him, to ask why he was staring. you were entirely focused on beomgyu. on the way he looked around the crowd with twinkling love in his eyes. the way he fiddled with his guitar like he was antsy to let the music flow out of him. it entranced you, dazzled you, entrapped you.

beomgyu inhaled sharply, the sound catching in the mic in front of him, as he strummed the chords of one of his songs you’ve never heard before. “we’re two moths to a burning flame; they call us icarus. now all that’s left between our bodies is the sinking bitterness. our eyes are on the sky, the lies we tell each other are to blame.” you gasped at how heavenly he sounded. at the melodic symphonies he was creating. at how familiar yet so unfamiliar the song sounded to you.

there was a beat as the live band picked up volume. “we’re waltzing together, we’ve gone too far. but we can’t help ourselves, we’re sinful, we’re brand new burning stars. gravity is starting to pull us closer and closer, you say it’s starting to lead to our demise. but don’t worry, baby, our silence—the heaviness between us, will be the disguise,” beomgyu continued. his eyes were squeezed shut as he sang. it made you wonder who he intended the song to be for if he was reacting this way.

“there’s no need to apologize, we’ve witnessed this before, i know your true name. like the ink of a tattoo, you linger, you graze the recesses of my brain. too powerful to overtake, oh, you’ve grown all over my mind. don’t delete the kisses at the end, just kiss me instead—just this one time,” beomgyu sang as the song came to an end. suddenly it was as if a light switch lit up the dark room in your brain, a certain lyric ringing bells inside.

“too powerful to overtake, oh, you’ve grown all over my mind,” you understood why the song sounded familiar to you. it was the song beomgyu was working on right before the two of you stopped being bestfriends. another thought hit you so hard that you stumbled back into the person behind you and yeonjun gave you another worried look. you stared back at him, eyes wide open.

two lyrics stood out to you, “like the ink of a tattoo, you linger, you graze the recesses of my brain,” and “don’t delete the kisses at the end, just kiss me instead—just this one time.” you turned to look back up at beomgyu, just as he started singing another song. his eyes were traveling the crowd and at that moment, his eyes connected with yours. they widened and he started to blink rapidly for a second, like he couldn’t believe that you were looking at him.

at the same time, both of your eyes traveled to yeonjun, who in turn gave a sheepish smile. he set the two of you up. desperately you wanted to leave, but yeonjun’s hand around your wrist and the crowd wouldn’t let you.

‘graze’, you knew for a fact was for you, but ‘tattoos on strangers’? there was no denying that he wrote the song about you, down to the referencing lyrics. down to the “don’t delete the kisses at the end.” oh god, you thought, oh god. this whole time… this whole time, he was singing about you. he was singing about you when you thought he was singing about someone else and you ruined it. you ruined everything.

suddenly, it was getting hard to breathe with everyone around you and with beomgyu’s eyes on you. he tried hard to make it look like he wasn’t singling you out, but every couple seconds his eyes would lock on you again. you had no choice but to sit and endure. endure his stare, the slight wildness in his look. endure all the songs from his debut album that you never heard; all of which were about you. all of them. endure the way his heart called out to yours, echoing through his songs, and the way yours called back.

your eyes connect once more—just for the briefest of moments—before you looked away, shyness taking over. your face—no, your whole body—felt like it was on fire. just like a brand new burning star. you felt like all eyes were on you, when in reality all eyes were on him.

finally, you looked up again as he announced the last song in the setlist—‘forethought.’ your eyes meet just as he sings, his eyes only on you, “oh, i hear her voice in the wind sometimes. has she given me any thought? i go back to the pastimes—like wind chimes, it’s not all for naught. my wet knees in the winter, it’s my hopeful crime, it’s my savior... it’s my desperate prayer, i scream out her name into the dying nature—it leads me out the maze so i’m with her. it’s a stranded forethought.” you feel tears well up into your eyes and you see tears well up in beomgyu’s too, hidden by the bright lights to the crowd, but not to you. never to you.

after a moment, he repeats with eyes closed in a silent plea, “don’t linger, don’t linger, light bringer, don’t linger. stay with me—send me your remembrances. please, don’t delete those kisses. don’t linger, light bringer. don’t linger.” the tears fall freely from your eyes at the way his voice softly echoes. echoes just like wind chimes in the blowing wind. you feel yeonjun pull you into a hug as a sob escapes your lips.

you don’t register the concert ending, the crowd getting smaller and smaller until there’s only a few stragglers. you move numbly as yeonjun pulls you along behind him. it’s not until you hear a familiar voice, beomgyu’s voice, that you suddenly come back to life.

yeonjun has taken you backstage. the two of you were making your way over to where beomgyu was standing, talking to someone you didn’t recognize, as he packed up his guitar. again, your eyes met, and you pulled your wrist from yeonjun’s grasp. you turned, wild eyes scanning for an exit as your feet moved without needing your input. “y/n, wait!” you heard voices from behind you. you kept going, the fear pushing you forwards faster.

it wasn’t until you were in front of the night bus, voices behind you as you pushed whatever money you had into the bus driver's hands, that you finally felt like you could breathe. the doors closed and the bus began moving as beomgyu and yeonjun ran up waving frantically. the bus kept moving. you looked through the window, terrified wide eyes reflecting back to you in the glass, at their fading figures. at beomgyu’s dejected eyes and yeonjun’s sorrowful ones. at the breaking of your heart, once again.

sighing heavily to yourself, you faced the front of the bus. what has gotten into you? why would you let yourself think that beomgyu would wait for you after these two long years? it was clear to you that what happened at that concert was a goodbye. and maybe you were okay with that. maybe you didn’t mind. you wiped the tears from your cheeks. it’s okay, you’ve always worked better on your own anyways. without the constant tingling of growing feelings, without the heavy stares that hold so much, without the newborn stars—without beomgyu.

when you get home, you waste no time with the alcohol you have. turning your phone off, locking all your doors and shutting all the curtains. you lay on your bed, drunk out of your mind looking up at the ceiling as you think, what if love’s not meant for me?

five days ago, you went to your ex-bestfriend’s concert and listened as he poured his heart out onto the stage for you; while you ran away from him like the echo of a wind chime in the wind.

beomgyu has taken over your mind. has soared through the mountains of your thoughts and settled gently in the valleys of your desires. lingered in the lakes and puddles and the big vast ocean of your memories. all you’ve been thinking about since the concert was him. he’s completely consumed you.

you had scrolled up and down your messages together, laughing at old jokes and shedding tears at old memories. retelling the jokes he made to yourself and pretending that they were yours to begin with as a permanent smile etched itself onto your features.

maybe this all was a sign. a sign that you should stop hiding in the four walls of your bedroom. a sign that you should find some way to contact beomgyu, rekindle the friendship you once used to have and maybe fan the flames of something greater. you wanted to scream from the rooftops about how much you loved beomgyu. tell the whole world about how he makes you feel and every little thing he does that just fills you with so much warmth.

you were scrolling through the photo album you still had of the two of you. at your silly faces and candid moments. you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face if you wanted to. you felt like a teenage girl, giggling softly as she wrote her crushes name in hearts all over her notebooks. wide smile as she wrote in her diary about how much her crush rocked her world. you didn’t care, you couldn’t help it. beomgyu did—he really did—make you feel this way. he’s turned your whole world upside down.

electricity flowed through you until you were so antsy and electric that you just had to do something before it drove you insane. you needed to tell beomgyu, to let whatever was between the two of you happen. needed to have him around you again after these two long years, even if just briefly. god, you felt like such a romantic cliché, but you felt alive.

opening your phone, you finally replied to all of the messages that yeonjun had sent you. they spanned from worried to disappointed to a resigned sadness. you only sent him one message in response:

you: is he still here?

you held your breath, mentally smacking yourself for not looking up beomgyu’s tour dates beforehand. mentally smacking yourself for not garnering the courage earlier. how stupid you were. your phone dinged from yeonjun’s reply:

jjunie: party tonight at 11:30pm. i’ll pick you up around 11. be ready.

breathing out a sigh of relief you looked at the clock. it was already 10pm. you raided your closet for your best looking outfit, throwing it on as you ran to your bathroom to put makeup on. you wanted to look your absolute best.

11pm couldn’t come fast enough. you were waiting by the door when yeonjun had knocked, him barely getting his second knock in before you flung the door wide open. “is it too late?” you asked him desperately, standing limply in the doorframe. yeonjun just chuckled at you and grabbed your wrist, leading you to his car, “never. not for the two of you.”

on the way over, yeonjun told you how the party was thrown by some big celebrity you never heard of and how beomgyu got the two of you invites. it was for such a good start on his sold out tour and debut album. “like, everyone is gonna be there,” yeonjun said to you as he drove around to find a parking space.

once you found somewhere to park, you and yeonjun made your way to the venue where the party was being held. you passed through all kinds of security until you were faced with blasting music in your ears and bodies dancing everywhere. holding tightly onto yeonjun to not get lost, the two of you scanned the crowd.

“do you want to get a drink?” yeonjun yelled over the music to you. you nodded and he led you through the crowd to where the bar was. the two of you got something and drank them silently by the bar. you felt bad for keeping yeonjun tied to you, so you yelled over the music to him, “you can go and mingle! i’ll be fine over here by myself!” he leaned towards you, furrowing his brows. “are you sure?” he asked and you nodded.

yeonjun made his way through the crowd, turning his charm on as he talked to various people. you stayed at the bar, sipping on various drinks until you felt very tipsy. your eyes scanned the crowd, looking for beomgyu, every minute or so.

that’s when you saw him. he was across the room, holding a glass of something and talking to a group of people, when his eyes drifted and just happened to meet yours. beomgyu rendered you completely speechless. you got a good look at him, not being able to do so that well from his place on the stage, and took in how much he’s changed in the past two years.

beomgyu’s short brown hair was now dark, tinged blue in the low scattered overhead lights. the back of it touched the nape of his neck and the front fell over his eyes and ears. he looked absolutely beautiful, even more beautiful than you remember him being. his eyes widened at seeing you, making the natural liner of his eyes stand out.

suddenly, just like at the concert, it felt like it was only the two of you in the room. his eyes widened at seeing you again, his mouth opening slightly. without knowing it, the two of you gravitated towards each other. then you were face to face, standing in front of each other in the flesh. you couldn’t believe it.

you both said each other’s names at the same time, letting out a nervous laugh after. he motioned for you to continue and you swallowed hard. you were thankful that you were tipsy, that the alcohol was smoothing your nerves, because you definitely wouldn’t be standing in front of beomgyu right now if you weren’t.

“beomie…” you trailed before correcting yourself, you didn’t want to pretend to know him like you use to after two years. “beomgyu… there’s no excuse. no apology even sincere enough—“ beomgyu had cut you off, “y/nie, you don’t have to apologize.”

you shook your head. you knew that you didn’t, that he had already forgiven you and moved past it. hell, he wrote a song about it. but you had to. you had to apologize in at least some way. “no, i do,” you stated. “i shouldn’t have let us drift away, shouldn’t have let us become strangers. i shouldn’t have pushed you away. you were my bestfriend and i was scared. i like you so much, so much that you enveloped me completely. my mind, my book, my life… everything.”

you inhaled deeply, looking longingly into beomgyu’s eyes like you had wanted to do now for so long. “all i thought about was you. all i think about is you. and i miss you. i missed you so much, beomgyu. i love you. i’ve always loved you—“ beomgyu sat his glass on the nearby table as you spoke, then cupped your face gently with both of his hands and collided his lips to yours in a passionate kiss to cut you off. it told you everything he was feeling, everything he’s felt for you for who knows how long now. you felt his song lyrics on your lips. felt how every last lyric was written for you, every melody. every atom of your being colliding with every atom of his and creating a beautiful newborn star.

when he pulled away, he pulled you into a desperate and tight hug. he held you so tight it was as if he thought you were a bird that would fly away. you couldn’t blame him, you kind of were. “i don’t think i need to tell you how much i love you, but i will. i’ll sing it in your ear softly and scream it at the top of my lungs for all the stars to witness, y/n. i love you,” beomgyu murmured into the crook of your neck.

you took his hand and led him out the venue. when you suddenly remembered that yeonjun took you here, beomgyu chuckled as he took you to his car. in the warm glow of your city at night, you pointed to various street signs and turns as beomgyu drove to your apartment.

inside your apartment, the two of you couldn’t keep your mouths off each other. the wanting—the need—lifting you up to cloud nine and making you dizzy. when you both somehow got to your bedroom, you were breathless and hot to the touch.

beomgyu had pulled away from you. “is this okay?” he asked, looking into your eyes. you saw the desire inside of them. you nodded, “yes, just please don’t stop kissing me.” and he obliged, his lips on yours again.

one by one, articles of clothing came off. there was brief awkwardness, the hem of your dress getting caught on the earrings you were wearing and the button of his pants refusing to come undone. it all was alright in the end when the two of you were laying on your bed, you only in your bra and panties and him only in his boxers, his huge bulge pressing into your thigh as he hovered above you.

you were growing needy, the alcohol edging you onwards. “beomgyu… i need you inside me,” you whimpered against his mouth as his hard boner rubbed against you. he hummed, lips moving to your neck, causing you to moan. “i need you to fuck me…” you breathed out. beomgyu pulled away with the slightest upturn of his lips.

he sat you up so that you were now straddling his lap as he reached behind you and unclasped your bra. “next time…” beomgyu murmured. “next time i’ll fuck you. but not tonight. tonight… we stop being strangers.” you shivered slightly at your already hardened nipples being exposed to the cool air. shivering more when beomgyu’s wet tongue circled them.

“is that okay?” beomgyu asked, staring into your eyes as he waited for your response. you nodded, unintentionally grinding against him, and moaned out, “yes.” his fingers had gripped your bare waist at the contact and his eyes shut tightly for a brief moment. “next time… i promise you. let me get to know your body again.”

and get to know your body, he did. beomgyu laid you back down gently and then pulled off your panties slowly while staring down at you, eyes caressing every inch of you. you felt yourself getting wetter by the second, gripping the blankets to keep yourself from pulling him to you.

beomgyu pressed his lips to yours once more as he spread your legs apart. he pressed open mouthed kisses to your skin as he moved farther and farther down your body, looking up at you the entire time. you jolted slightly when he pressed kisses to the inside of your thighs. “you’re so breathtaking, even more than before,” beomgyu spoke, trailing kisses up to your knee. he paused for a second, “i missed you so much, y/n.”

his tongue then swirled around your clit and your back arched off the bed, your hands finding their way into his pretty hair. beomgyu groaned, pulling away from your core with a wet mouth, as you pulled at it. just as quickly, he was back at it, making you moan for him as he devoured you. you creating pretty harmonies for him.

“fuck…” beomgyu said lowly. you could see how hard his cock was in his boxers and it made you need him even more. he then pushed two fingers into you, them slipping in easily with how wet you were for him. beomgyu pulled you up from the bed as he continued pushing his fingers in and out of you, tipping your head back and capturing your lips in a sweet and slow kiss. your tongues danced together, waltz together as you clenched around his fingers.

pulling away, you buried your face in his neck as you whimpered his name. “cum for me, baby,” beomgyu said in your ear softly. you didn’t need to be told twice, your warm release spreading all over his fingers.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, “i-i need you, please… your—your fingers aren’t e-enough.” beomgyu chuckled as he nodded. you released your hold on him so he could take off his boxes, his long and hard cock on full display for you. you used to dream of moments like these.

beomgyu looked at you, asking silently if you were ready. in response, you shakily got to your knees. he lined himself up with your entrance and slowly, you slid down onto him. the both of you gasped at the feeling, moans joining together in a beautiful song as you moved up and down on his cock.

you were giving each other sloppy and needy kisses, beomgyu wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer as he thrusted up into your pussy. you gasped against his lips, your hands laying to rest against his chest. he whimpered as he continued thrusting, “you feel so—so good. so good, baby. do you f-feel good?”

“y—oh… it feels s-so good,” you managed out. you could feel the knot in your stomach tighten with each thrust he pushed into you. with the feeling of his veiny shaft inside you, sending electric currents throughout your body. the feeling of his lips on yours. moaning, you pulled away and rested your forehead on beomgyu’s. “i’m gonna c-cum again, gyu.”

he moved you so your back was against the bed again, your legs wrapped around his waist and his cock still deep inside you. groaning at the new angle, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him to you. “let me help you, baby. l-let me do the work,” beomgyu mumbled before you kissed him.

in passionate thrusts, you came around him again and a few seconds later you felt his warm cum pour inside of you. his hips jerked against yours and he let out a whine as he rolled into you, not planning on slowing down. “b-beomgyu…” you whimpered, gripping him tighter and throwing your head back so you were staring hazily at the ceiling. you didn’t know how much more you could take.

“l-look at me, my pretty baby, i n-need to see your face,” beomgyu said between hard pants. between the sounds of your skin slapping together and the wet sounds of him entering and exiting you repeatedly. you looked at him through knitted brows, your fingers in his hair and pulling his head back. “f-fuck… god, you d-don’t know what you d-do to me,” he murmured, eyes shutting for a moment. you pulled him down to kiss his jaw. “feels… feels so…” you couldn’t even finish your sentence as you clenched around him again.

beomgyu was twitching inside you more and more and you could tell he was overstimulating himself just to make you feel good. his words of praise were being slurred as he stared deeply into your eyes, breathing erratically.

when the two had came together, you couldn’t take anymore. your legs were shaking badly and your back was beginning to ache from how much you kept arching it. pushing beomgyu away until he was hovering above you, you barely managed to whimper out in a whisper, “c-can’t take it a-anymore, beomie…”

at your words he slipped out of you slowly, groaning loudly as you clenched tightly around his poor cock the whole way out. “y/n…” beomgyu moaned. he hovered above you for a moment, forehead pressed to yours and arms trembling, before falling down next to you. beomgyu pulled you towards him until you were wrapped in his body. you tried not to think about how his still half hard cock was up against your sensitive pussy. his breath fanning your skin and sending a shiver up your spine.

the two of you stayed like that for a couple minutes, coming down from your highs and breathing the same air. beomgyu had been trailing lines down your torso with the tips of his fingers, leaving goosebumps in his wake. you could feel his smile against your cheek at the way your body reacted to his touch.

when you both were strong enough to get up, he cleaned the cum from between your legs and his with a warm and wet towel and then guided you to the bathroom. beomgyu drew a bubble bath for the both of you, helping you inside of it when your legs began to shake and your knees almost gave out.

now you laid back against his chest inside the bathtub, one of his hands trailing up and down your arm with a washcloth and the other wrapped tightly against your lower stomach. “you don’t know how long i’ve wanted this…” beomgyu trailed off softly. you turned slightly so you could look up at him. “you don’t know how long i wanted this either. how long i wanted to be with you in general.”

beomgyu smiled warmly down at you, that same warm smile he would give you every time you sang together. “how long?” he asked, playfulness slipping into his tone. “for as long as i can remember,” you giggled. “for as long as i’ve known you.” he pressed a kiss to your temple, the action sending ripples to your heart. “i’ve wanted it for longer,” he replied, laughing when you playfully scoffed up at him. “this isn’t our first life together.”

that sentiment made you turn in the tub to face him fully, your eyebrows knitting together and your eyes full of fondness. it almost brought tears to your eyes. “beomgyu…” you murmured as you cupped his face softly and brought your lips to his. you kissed him slowly, trying to show him how much you loved him through it. your actions and words alone will never be able to fully express how you feel for him.

after the two of you cleaned up more in the bath, you laid side by side in your bed. thankfully, you still had some of beomgyu’s clothes that you just couldn’t get rid of from when you still lived together and you would steal them. you were in one of beomgyu’s old shirts now, body up against his in the darkness of your bedroom.

“i’m gonna miss you when you leave to go back on tour. i don’t want you to leave,” you whispered softly into the darkness. you weren’t very good at expressing your fears out loud, clearly. but you had to let him know. had to let him know that you didn’t want this to be just a one time thing and you never see each other again. “so come with me,” beomgyu replied at your same tone, simply. “come with me and we won’t have to miss each other.”

you couldn’t help but think of the lyrics of the song he wrote for you, the one the two of you would sing together. “over the canopy, it’s each other that we always seem to miss.” he was right about ‘graze’ having a whole new meaning in his interview. first, it meant the longing between the two of you. always dancing around each other, fingertips always seeming to just brush up against the other’s but never fully grasping. then, it meant the two of you drifting apart. missing the opportunity to admit your feelings and be together. and lastly, right now. right in this moment, the two of you together again after two long years. missing each other until your heart aches even though you’re right next to each other. it is funny how meanings change.

“okay,” you giggled softly. “i’ll come with you.” you weren’t going to linger. he was right, this wasn’t your first life together, you could feel it. you were gonna stay with him forever. beomgyu pulled you closer, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

last night, your world was turned back on it’s rightful axis as you and your bestfriend beomgyu—your lover beomgyu, sealed the two of your souls together.

that morning you both had woken up to a ton of missed calls and a plethora of text messages. you both stared at each other with wide eyes after realizing that the two of you had basically silently walked out of the celebration that was held for beomgyu. yeonjun scolding the two of you when he realized that not only was beomgyu not at his own party, but that you weren’t there either.

quick kisses and giggles were shared as beomgyu raced to get ready for the schedule he had to do today. “text me, okay? i want to hear from you. i’ll let you know when we’re leaving for the next stop, so get your bags ready,” beomgyu said, throwing his coat on and pressing another kiss to your lips, deepening the kiss for just a moment before he pulled away.

you were standing by the door, a lovesick smile on your face, “i will!” you giggled as he stalled more and pulled you into a hug. “and don’t delete the kisses,” he whispered, kissing your cheek before finally making his way through the door. you waved goodbye to him and shut the door, immediately pulling out your phone.

you: i’ll see you later today. good luck on your interview! xxx

there was an immediate response from him and you giggled as you read it and responded.

beomie: thank you, baby! i love you!! you: i love you more!! xxx beomie: i love you more than there are stars in the sky!!! you: and i love you more than there are galaxies in our universe!!!! xxx beomie: okay… you win… but only because i can’t think of anything better!!!

laughing, you went to your room and started packing the things you needed for beomgyu’s tour.

two years ago—four since the beginning—you left the kisses at the end of your messages to your boyfriend beomgyu.

you were backstage just before one of his shows with him and yeonjun. beomgyu’s arm was wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his side. your mouth was currently hung open in shock at yeonjun’s revealing news.

“i’m sorry, y/nie, but i just had to tell him. two years i had to listen to the both of you cry over each other—two years! i couldn’t do it anymore. i had to tell him about the things you were saying!” yeonjun sighed dramatically as if he were so defeated. you pushed his shoulder lightly, “you ass! then you had the nerve to set the two of us up at beomgyu’s concert with the tickets he gave you!”

beomgyu let out a laugh from next to you, laughing louder when you turned a playful glare to him. “if i didn’t…” yeonjun trailed as he spoke to you with raised eyebrows, “you two wouldn’t be together right now. now would you?” you rolled your eyes at him, wrapping your arms around beomgyu and laying your head on his chest.

“i’d like to think we would find our way back together,” beomgyu spoke, looking down at you. you smiled up at him in return. “uh huh…” said yeonjun, causing the three of you to erupt into laughter.

since beomgyu’s debut album and tour to go along with it, he’s released two more albums. all of the songs about you, once again. in every interview he had, he gushed about you to whoever would listen. you’ve also finally published your book, deciding to let beomgyu’s essence flow through the entirety of it. you couldn’t remove him even if you tried. and trust, you had tried.

one of the staff members gave a signal to beomgyu and he nodded back and gave a thumbs up. it was almost time for him to be on stage. for the first time ever, you were singing ‘graze’ and ‘forethought’ together with their whole new meanings.

you stared at beomgyu’s stunning side profile as he peeked out to the crowd. you almost laughed at yourself, at your past thoughts. of course love was meant for you. of course you and beomgyu were meant to be together, meant to be in love. meant to share each of your lifetimes and universes and supernovas and nebulas and brand new brightly burning newborn stars together.

of course the two of you were meant to love each other forever, how could you ever think differently?

permanent taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @rapmonie2047 @riaawr

v-day event masterlist┊masterlist┊request rules

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whereforarthur · 4 months ago

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Masterlist~

All of my work compiled in one place. Please like and reblog if you enjoy them, feedback is greatly appreciated. Requests are open!

(Updated 11/18/2024)

(X) = coming soon

ItalianBach~

Fluff:

You’re The Only Man I Want to Kiss

- Isaac and his girlfriend y/n react to Women Rank Men by Kissing

Smut:

Ménage à trois (Threesome w/ ArthurTv)

- Who knew fan fictions could cause so much pleasure?

Ménage à trois (Part 2)

- Having had a threesome the night before leads to an interesting and revealing podcast episode, leading their friends to question what truly happened?

ArthurTV~

Angst:

Unrequited Love Hurts Like A Bitch

- Being in love with your best friend sucks, especially when he doesn't feel the same way

Unrequited Love Hurts Like A Bitch (Part 2)

- Soulmates are two best friends who fell in love

Fluff:

Being Stuck in an Elevator Never Looked so Good?

- Getting trapped in an elevator with your favorite YouTuber, was not what you had planned for today

Love At First Podcast

- Falling in love with you was easy

Smut:

"Women weaken legs"

- After your boyfriend Arthur was in boxing training camp and was forced to go 6-8 weeks without distractions and sex, he goes feral for his girlfriend when he gets out

Ménage à trois (Threesome w/ ItalianBach)

- Who knew fan fictions could cause so much pleasure?

Ménage à trois (Part 2)

- Having had a threesome the night before leads to an interesting and revealing podcast episode, leading their friends to question what truly happened?

The Two Arthur’s (with Arthur Hill)

- Virgin!Reader goes to her friends for comfort not expecting them to comfort her in such a way

George Clarkey~

Fluff:

Musicians want to be the loud voice for so many quiet hearts - Reader is a famous singer and George follows her on tour and fans speculate they’re dating.

Wedding Day Bliss~ - George Clarke marries the love of his life

Dating Headcanons for George Clarke

I'll wear your name on my heart til I die

- The turmoils and happiness that comes with giving birth

Smut:

Tummy Obsessed Much? - George's favorite body part on his girlfriend is her stomach

Wedding Night Bliss~

- A fluffy smut of the events that transpired after your and George's wedding night.

It’s Good to Be Home

- could you do a clarkey version of homecoming?

A Night In

- A perfect night in with your boyfriend is very pleasurable

It's Been Way Too Long

- “I think I'd miss you even if we never met.”

Love and Hate Are Blurred Lines

- “How would it be.. if all my hate disappeared like my youth, if after all this time his very hatred of me turned out to be something gentle, some kind of love.”

Caught Red Handed

- Who knew taking a risk could lead to this much pleasure?

So Much Restraint

ChrisMD~

Angst:

We'll Never Last

- It hurts to be something, it's worse to be nothing with you

Fluff:

Fate is in The Stars (PlusSize!Reader)

- A chance encounter at a concert leads to more than you expected

Drunk and Touchy

- Chris fluff where he's a bit tipsy and can't keep his hands off his girlfriend

I Didn't Know Punk Girls Blushed

- Golden retriever boy falls for punk grumpy girl

What If We Were More Than Friends?

- Falling in love as best friends was unexpected

Smut:

Arthur Hill~

Angst:

Brother's Flatmate

- George’s sister and Arthur can’t stand each other, right?!?

Fluff:

Am I a Burden to You?

- Arthur’s been working a lot and y/n misses him, she brings this up and he gets angry and calls her ‘clingy’ before realising he messed up and makes it up to her (angst —> soft)

Piano Nights

- Y/N and Arthur meet at a musician's party, where she spots him and confidently pursues him. They sleep together, and they end up dating, leaving Arthur in awe and a massive simp.

Dating Headcanons for Arthur Hill

Smut:

“Sex is an Emotion in Motion”

- Arthur takes care of you after a rough night in the sheets

It’s painful, loving someone from afar.

- Y/N is on holiday with all of the boys and there’s tension between Arthur hill and her, and everyone can see it and they’re just waiting for something to happen. (Soft Smut)

Homecoming

- When Arthur returns from vacation, he misses his girlfriend greatly causing things to get freaky

The Two Arthur’s (with ArthurTv)

- Virgin!Reader goes to her friends for comfort not expecting them to comfort her in such a way

A Delightful Surprise

All~

Dating Headcanons

George Clarke

Arthur Hill

ArthurTV

ChrisMD (X)

ItalianBach (X)

Featuring more than 2 of the boys~

Poker Night Never Felt So Right

ArthurTv x Reader x George Clarke x Chrismd

A game of strip poker with your friends, goes a little further than anyone expected...

Said She Wanted Five Guys She Ain’t Talking about Burgers

Reader x George, Arthur Hill, Chris, Isaac and ArthurTv

Y/n shares her sexual intentions with five YouTubers. She invites them to join her fantasy, setting no limits on their actions. The group eagerly agrees, indulging in a passionate sexual encounter as they explore Y/n's desires one by one.

A/n: Let me know if anyone would like to be added to a taglist for all imagines or certain people!

#italianbach #chrismd #arthur hill #george clarkey #arthurtv #arthurtv x reader #george clarke fics #fluff #smut #angst #british youtubers #italianbach x reader #chrismd x reader #arthur frederick #arthur hill x reader #george clarkey x reader

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ladykailitha · 8 months ago

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Whatever You Need I've Got It

Just a little silly thing I thought of watching The Airborne Toxic Event music videos and how it seemed like whenever they needed violin, piano, tambourine...whatever it was always Anna Bulbrook playing.

So what if we steddified it? Steve just picking up whatever instrument Corroded Coffin needs to fill out a song and suddenly he's on tour with them and Eddie still isn't sure how it happened.

****

Eddie was getting frustrated. The band had been working on this song for the last two weeks, but there was still something missing. And he only had mere minutes to finish it before Steve came to pick him up.

Not because they were dating or anything, though...Eddie mentally slapped the side of his head. He was getting off track. Steve was picking him up because his van was in the shop until Friday and Steve had offered to taxi him around.

Like the fucking saint he was.

He screamed his rage, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. But into the resulting silence, he realized it had become too quiet.

When he looked up he saw Steve standing there with a shocked expression on his face.

"You good there, man?" he asked with a grimace.

"Don't mind him," Brian huffed. "He always gets like this when we're stuck on a song."

"Can I hear it?" Steve asked.

Everyone just looked at each other, not speaking.

Steve rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, not a metalhead, I know. But I am a classically trained musician, maybe I can figure out where it's gone wrong."

"Fine by me," Jeff said with a shrug. "What's it going to hurt?"

Eddie looked up at Steve's earnest face and sighed. "All right, if there are no objections. Let's start it at the top."

And the band played.

"Play it again," Steve muttered.

They looked at each other again, but Eddie just shrugged and they played it again.

Steve nodded. "Okay, I think I've got it. Can I borrow that old keyboard for a sec?"

Gareth looked behind him with a frown. "I mean I guess."

Steve set it up and plug it in. "Brian start on your cue."

The band watched as Brian laid on the base. Steve nodded in time to the music and then began to play a melody on the keyboard. He pointed to Gareth who immediately started banging away.

Eddie came in on vocals and suddenly the song was really coming together.

They practiced it a couple more times, Steve playing the melody line on the keyboard and when they were done all four of the Corroded Coffin boys stared at him in shock.

"Holy shit dude," Jeff said. "What the fuck was that?"

Gareth nodded. "Yeah, man. Eddie hear can play by ear and read music, but that was something else entirely."

"You're going to have to play it with us on Tuesday at the Hideout," Brian said.

Jeff and Gareth agreed. They all turned to Eddie, Steve included.

"I don't know why you're looking at me," Eddie huffed. "I'm down."

Steve just grinned.

****

But then it kept happening. The song was a hit with the Tuesday crowd because of course it was.

They were working on a song and again they were running up against a brick wall. They had already incorporated Steve's piano into it, but it was still missing an extra beat.

They had gotten permission to practice at local college's music room and Steve was getting bored.

He had his part down. There were only a couple of parts were the piano came in so he cast his eyes around the room looking for something mess around with.

His eyes lit up when he spotted his prize. He walked over to the table and picked it up, the clatter of the small metal jingles rattling as he did so.

The band stopped playing and glared at him.

"Don't mind me," he said smugly. "Keep playing."

They went back to starting from the top and as Gareth came in on the drums Steve hit the instrument against the side of his leg in time to the beat.

It stunned Brian so much he missed his cue, his jaw on the floor.

"Stevie..." Eddie said warningly. "What was that?"

Steve grinned. "You said you needed an extra beat. I'm providing the extra beat. Just trust me."

The other band members looked at each other, but did as he suggested.

Sure enough when the chorus came in, and Steve started playing the tambourine, it took everything ounce of professionalism the band had not ground to a complete stop. Then for the verses Steve would play his part on the piano and it just blended so well.

Eddie ran his fingers over his face. "Jesus Christ, Stevie, warn a dude, yeah? You are just sitting over there like a musical genius and it's seriously making the rest of us look bad."

Steve thew back his head and laughed.

"So it's a hit then?"

Everyone groaned.

Jeff shook his head. "Yeah, man. It was a hit."

Steve just grinned.

****

They were recording their first real album in a real studio and while the producers were a little unsure about this weirdo who dressed more like Bruce Springsteen than Kirk Hammett, they had contracted the whole band so they let it slide.

It took Steve two weeks to impress the producers.

Steve had been using the studio off hours (which he did pay them for) to record lullabies on the violin for Robin and Lucas. Violins were the only things that would soothe their anxieties and keep the nightmares at bay.

He had finished his little recording about an hour ago was merely laying down melodies and such that he would play back to see if he liked them.

If only his parents could see him now. Using all that classically trained music to guess Russian code, play lullabies for frightened kids, and preform in a metal band.

Clint Harrington would probably keel over on the spot.

He was so wrapped up in the music, just letting it flow over him that he didn't notice that he had gathered an audience.

He finally stopped and the mic from the sound booth crackled to life startling him.

"Shit, Stevie," Eddie's warm voice said from above him. "Do you think you could play that haunting melody again?"

Steve blushed and then shrugged. "I mean I guess. It was just me playing around. Why?"

"Because everyone in here thinks it's just what Blood-Red Skies needs."

Steve furrowed his brow and then nodded. "Can you pump the track in through the speakers?"

"Yeah," Eddie said breathless. "Just give me a moment to find it."

It was barely a moment or two before Steve's tape was replaced by the recording of the song.

The song was hauntingly beautiful. Eddie only singing vocals as rest of the band played.

It was raw and emotional.

Steve let the song play through before he signaled to play it again.

This time when Eddie begins to sing, Steve begins to play the violin. That beautifully sad sound he had played just to get it out of his head beginning to raise.

"Holy shit!" a new voice came through. It was their producer Kenny Fontaine. "You made that up?"

Steve shrugged. "Sometimes I get music in my head and I need to get out."

"Teach me to play the piano part!" Eddie blurts wrestling the mic away from Kenny. "So that when we play it live you can be on violin and I can sing and play."

Steve grinned. "I'd love that."

I love you.

****

They are playing it on the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson to promote the release of Blood-Red Skies.

The tension between Eddie and Steve is thick that Johnny calls them out on it.

And that's when Steve leaned over and kissed Eddie right on the lips.

Johnny is absolutely freaking out and in a good way.

They spend the rest of the interview tucked into each other's sides like puzzle pieces.

Even later, ten years down the line when Corroded Coffin is selling out stadiums, Eddie and Steve always end the song with a kiss.

****

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#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes

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munson-blurbs · 10 months ago

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Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Being a perpetual people-pleaser meant that you were constantly putting others before yourself--particularly your parents and the eccentric guests who stayed at their motel. But when a surly and mysterious musician checked in indefinitely, he flipped your whole world on its head. (3.1k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, drug use, parental conflict, poverty, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ A/N: Thank you to my numerous beta readers, including but not limited to @the-unforgivenn, @lofaewrites, @lokis-army-77, and @corroded-hellfire, and to @hellfire--cult for the divider. I am forever indebted to y'all.

chapter one: room for one more

It was always the quiet nights, wasn't it? The ones where the only sounds came from cars barreling down Queens Boulevard and splashing through puddles left by an earlier rainstorm, or from the clock ticking on the wall.

The ones where your mind wandered until you’d thought yourself in circles, overanalyzing every last decision you had ever made.

The ones where you allowed your guard just down enough that the slightest oddity threw you off-balance—something or someone out of place.

It was during the quiet nights like that night where you should have expected the unexpected, because New York City never stayed still for long.

The evening’s sluggishness was normal; tourism always slowed in the springtime. The newest shows on Broadway were already months old, not to mention the warmer weather brought both an uptick in crime and pollen count. If out-of-towners were going to schlep to the East Coast, they’d prefer to see the cherry blossoms hours south in Washington, DC than to get mugged on the 1 train.

Business picked up in the winter months when people flocked from around the world to witness the Thanksgiving Day Parade, the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree, or Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Year’s Eve, even though they were several bus and subway transfers away. Outsiders to the tri-state area struggled to differentiate between boroughs; it was unfortunate for them, but you counted on it to keep business alive.

The only guests who consistently frequented your family’s motel were junkies looking for a place to shoot up away from the NYPD’s watchful gaze or affair-havers who were considerate enough not to sully their marriage beds—just their vows. You were in no position to judge; their money was what kept the lights on, but it was impossible not to compare your clientele to the suits who stayed at the Marriott down the street. They wouldn‘t even allow homeless folks to sit within twenty-five feet of the building, let alone stay under their roof.

You leaned on the desk, wood grain pinching your elbows. You tapped your pencil against your textbook as you read, its margins cluttered with notes about different types of parent-child attachment styles.

Sleep prickled at the corners of your eyes, blurring the words on the page in front of you. Focus.

Secure attachment occurs when—no, you’d already read this line. Twice.

“Dammit,” you muttered under your breath, gently slapping your cheeks in a futile attempt to stay awake. Taking a full course load instead of your usual part-time was your academic advisor’s ill-conceived idea, bolstered by the prospect of an earlier graduation. In your haste, you’d neglected to consider two important factors: all of your studying now had to be done during your night shifts, and graduating meant telling your parents a truth they were unready to hear.

They were so proud of the motel, regardless of its reputation. It might as well have been The Plaza from the way your dad boasted about it. The three of you shared an unspoken understanding that you worked the front desk because paying an actual employee would put them under. Maybe if finances weren’t so tight, you could have freely admitted that your future plans didn’t involve taking over the business.

Your eyelids fluttered shut as your head rested on your book, a small puddle of drool pooling atop Bowlby’s theories.

Ping ping ping ping!

Time slowly stretched out before you, your conscious brain clawing its way out of its hazy fog. It took a beat for you to recognize that the incessant noise came from someone repeatedly smacking the tiny bell that sat on the desk.

“Hey, hello?” an impatient voice called out, jolting you from your impromptu nap. You blinked away the residual sleepiness and took in the sight in front of you: a curly-haired man, likely not much older than you were, a cigarette that had been nearly smoked down to the filter tucked between his lips. He had a patched guitar case strapped to his back and clutched a black garbage bag filled with what you hoped was clothing.

“Sorry,” you grumbled, wiping the moisture from your chin. “Need a room?”

“Mhm.” You could practically hear his eye roll: no, I just stopped by in the middle of the night for a quick chat. Fancy a cup of tea and a scone?

He plopped the garbage bag on the ground; its soft landing and the way it wrinkled told you that whatever was inside was, thankfully, not a body.

You nodded and turned around to the wall of keys behind you. There was no shortage of rooms; the only occupied one was being rented by Phyllis, a sixty-year-old self-described ‘entertainer of gentleman’ who paid double her bill in exchange for your silence.

He stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray on the countertop, grinding it into the base for good measure. “How much per night?” he asked, digging into his pants pocket and pulling out a wallet held together with duct tape.

“Fifteen.”

The man breathed out, his bangs fanning over his forehead. “Jesus.” He fished two twenties and a five from the billfold and placed them in front of you. “This should cover me until Friday, yeah?”

Nodding, you folded the bills and tucked them into the register kept under the desk, only accessible by key because of a series of break-ins during the late ‘70s.

The man lit another cigarette as you pulled out the ledger and a pen. “Name and date here,” you said, pointing to the ‘check in’ column. He took a drag before scrawling his name on the line: Eddie Munson, 5-4-93.

“All right, you’ll be in…” you scanned the assortment of keys dangling from their hooks. The walls were thin, and this guy seemed decent enough, so you decided to spare him the theatrical sound effects of Phyllis’s room 10 endeavors. “…room 4. Make a right down the hallway, and it’ll be the second door. Can’t miss it if you try.”

Your attempt at humor fell flat, both of you too exhausted to laugh. You strode past it, clearing your throat as if dispelling the tension. When you placed the key in his calloused palm, you couldn’t help but notice that the base of each fingertip is a half-shade paler than the rest of his skin.

“Thanks.” Eddie mumbled. He tapped the cigarette above the ashtray, the gray flakes falling into a neat pile. His right bicep flexed underneath his denim jacket as he heaved the garbage bag over his shoulder, careful not to bang it against the guitar.

He scuttled out of the tiny room masquerading as a lobby, shoulders hunched from the weight of the bag and of the burdens he inevitably carried. No one shows up to a motel in the middle of the night without a story or two.

After years of greeting guests at the front desk, you liked to think you had a decent read on them. Eddie was quiet, maybe even introspective, but not necessarily shy. He was tired; no, more than that: he was worn down, like so many other people who had come through these doors.

Most importantly, Eddie didn’t seem like he'd be much trouble. He didn’t stumble in wasted and reeking of booze or fidgeting as he awaited a fix. He wasn’t shouting or poorly concealing a wandering eye or making lewd comments. He’d made pretty much no impression at all besides being a bit gruff, which was just fine with you. Your personality wasn't composed of rainbows and sunshine at this hour either.

You looked at the clock and sighed when it only read 2:17. It’s already tomorrow, you thought grimly. Just under four hours until you could walk ten feet to your room, curl up in your bed, and sleep until it was time for your afternoon class. After years of balancing school and work, you were in the last two weeks of your final semester, and then…what? You casually inform your parents that you were leaving the family business–essentially forcing them to close it–to pursue a career in social work?

That was sure to go over well.

To their knowledge, you were studying hotel management and hospitality in order to “improve the business.” That was why they’d relented when you’d asked to start taking classes, switching you over to the night shift to avoid having to hire a new employee.

What they didn’t know is that your school didn’t even offer that as a major. Nor were they aware of the acceptance letter into NYU’s Masters of Social Work program that was stashed inside your dresser drawer, hidden from sight. That was a conversation for another day when you found the strength to face their disappointment.

Chaos waited to strike until the end of your shift.

Just as you packed your book back into your bag, a familiar, skunky odor wafted past your nostrils.

Ignore it, you thought. Let it be Dad’s problem when he takes over in five minutes. But if you could smell it, so could any of the cops patrolling the boulevard. One more citation and the motel was in jeopardy of being permanently shut down, and you couldn’t take that risk.

With a frustrated sigh, you yanked open the desk drawer and reached in for a pen, instead pulling out an unopened box of crayons. A twenty-four pack of Crayola—the good kind. You plucked a waxy cornflower blue from its spot and scribbled Be back soon on a Post-It note, sticking it on the front of the desk. Grabbing the pepper spray canister from its spot next to the register, just in case, you started down the hall. Marijuana wasn’t Phyllis’s drug of choice, though it might have been one of her various gentleman suitors’, but the scent was too strong to be coming all the way from room 10.

Maybe this Eddie Munson was trouble, afterall.

You knocked on his door, firmly but without aggression. It certainly wasn’t the first time you interrupted someone’s buzz, and it wouldn’t be the last. You knew better than to go in guns a-blazing; it’s easier to catch flies with sugar than vinegar.

Eddie opened it after a moment, cracking it halfway and revealing a lit joint pinched between his plush lips. One forearm was perched on the doorframe, showing off faded ink of a litter of flying bats and a dragon-esque creature. He was clad in only navy blue boxer briefs, but his lack of attire was no surprise. Many guests were shameless, not bothering to cover the holes in their Fruit of the Loom tighty-whities and showcasing faded yellow stains on the crotch. What confused you was the elastic waistband proudly proclaiming ‘Calvin Klein’ that cut off the soft hair trailing from his belly button. It seemed absurd that he would have been lugging around any designer clothes in that trash bag, but there was no other possibility.

“Can I help you?” he asked, shaking his curly bangs out of his face. Half-lidded brown eyes scanned your form, trying to determine whether you were a narc or trying to bum some bud off of him. His window was cracked open enough to let in fresh air, which also meant that the acrid smell could easily be let out.

“You can’t smoke that here,” you reported matter-of-factly, just as you had a million times before. When he cocked a challenging brow, you continued. “Cigarettes are fine, but no weed. The police will come after us and you.”

He looked around the room, unbothered, and absentmindedly scratched at his bare chest. A demon’s head was sketched just above a sparse patch of hair. Under different circumstances, or maybe in another life altogether, you would’ve asked him about his tattoos; if they had some philosophical meaning or were the products of spur-of-the-moment decisions. You could have blathered on about the ideas you had for your own future tattoos, if you ever worked up the nerve to actually get one.

“You mean to tell me that with all of the skeevy shit that goes on around here, the cops are gonna waste their time on a little pot?” He scoffed and took another defiant pull, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling away from you.

I guess chivalry isn’t dead, you mused, stifling an eye roll. “No, but they’re always looking for an excuse to ‘investigate,’’' you threw air-quotes around the last word, “so they can bust us for more serious things, and that is the perfect one.” You gestured to the joint only to be met with an eye roll. “Look, you can either put it out, smoke it somewhere else, or you can leave. Full refund, but you can’t stay here.”

His stare locked onto your steely eyes and clenched jaw, only breaking when you’d straightened your posture to stand your ground. “Whatever,” he huffed, but he snuffed it out. A glimmer of a smile danced on his lips, disappearing nearly as quickly as it arrived. Despite its fleeting nature, it managed to thaw you enough so that your arms weren’t held quite so tight to your body, your expression less rigid. “Just trying to relax and get some sleep, like you were while you were supposed to be ‘working.’” It’s his turn to supply the air-quotes, both in mockery and as a gotcha. A teasing lilt elevated his voice, smoothing out the edge he’d greeted you with earlier.

“I wasn’t sleeping, just…resting my eyes,” you volleyed back, your smirk betraying any semblance of the tough façade you’d worn.

Eddie crossed his arms and walked over to the garbage bag of clothes. He rummaged through it for a moment before procuring a pair of gray sweatpants, stepping into them hurriedly as though he just remembered his minimal attire.

“Maybe if you chose more interesting reading material, you wouldn’t be sl—resting your eyes on the job,” he amended, gesturing to the textbook in your canvas tote bag. “Ever heard of Stephen King?”

“I live in a motel, not under a rock.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You live here?”

Shit. That wasn’t information you regularly divulged. Sure, this guy seemed harmless, but looks can be deceiving. Prime example: wearing designer underwear while using a trash bag in lieu of a suitcase.

It was too late to double back, so you nodded. “Yeah,” you admitted reluctantly. The sole of your sneaker dug into the old carpet.

Eddie looked like he wanted to say more, lips parted and eyes wide like there was a follow-up question sitting on the tip of his tongue. Before he could ask it, your gaze landed on the clock radio: six AM on the dot.

“I need to go,” you said hurriedly. Shame at your sudden shyness burned a hole in your belly. Eddie Munson was a guest; for all intents and purposes, he was a total stranger. There was no reason to be intimidated by him. “Good luck falling asleep,” you added with a weak smile.

The easy banter that had been building between you dissipated in an instant, taking his good mood with it. His goodbye was a sardonic salute, the mattress springs creaking wearily as soon as you closed the door behind you.

Sure enough, your dad was in the tiny lobby, assessing some peeling wallpaper. “Gotta fix that,” he mumbled to himself, thumbnail picking at it aimlessly. He turned around when he heard the door open and smiled when he saw you.

“Sorry, I was helping out a guest,” you rushed to explain, hoping he wasn't too anxious to find the desk left unattended.

The wrinkles in your dad’s forehead became more pronounced. “Is everything alright?” The phrase ‘helping out a guest’ could range from unclogging a toilet to calling the police for a domestic dispute.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you reassured him quickly, flashing an exaggerated thumbs-up. “No law enforcement necessary. Didn’t even need to use the pepper spray.” You waved the canister in your palm before placing it back.

He beamed, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your scalp. “It’s times like this where I just know I’ll be leaving this place in good hands.”

You swallowed the bile that crept up your throat and feigned a smile when he pulled you in for a tight hug. The mingled scents of Irish Spring soap and drugstore aftershave tickled your nose, and tears stung along your lash line.

If only you knew, you thought, giving him one last squeeze before you headed to your room. Disappointed wouldn’t even begin to cover it.

Your parents would never say the word aloud; they’d look at each other and heave identical weighted sighs. Their lifelong goal of a long-standing family business would vanish in the blink of an eye. Dad would pretend there was a chance that they could afford a new hire, even going so far as to fumble through the years of financial statements before inevitably throwing in the towel; Mom would force a pained smile and hoarsely encourage you to follow your dreams, even at the expense of theirs.

You shook the thought away as you trudged towards your room, sneakered feet like sandbags below you. Dwelling on this scenario had you teetering on the brink of insanity, so you’d willed yourself to focus on something else. Anything else.

Like the motel’s newest guest and his smile. The way it softened the hard lines on his face, offering you a glimpse of how he wore happiness. Something about it made you want to see him happy again.

You can’t even figure out how to make yourself happy, you thought, peeling back the starchy sheets and finally crawling into bed, much less a stranger. For all you knew, he was just relaxed because his high was starting to kick in, and not from some warming presence you’d supplied.

The sun cracked pink through the sky, visible through the paper-thin curtains hanging on the window. You had become accustomed to this backwards routine, able to fall asleep while daylight broke. It took a few extra moments this time; you were anticipating marijuana-tinged fumes to float through the vents when Eddie ignored your instructions.

It was that flicker of a smile that had you almost certain he would spark up once you’d left. The smile of someone who so naturally flouted authority that he no longer bragged about it. Yet time ticked by without a hint of evidence that he was smoking again.

Which begged the question: if the smile didn’t signify defiance, what did it mean?

Eddie Munson is definitely trouble, you surmised just before you drifted off, but nothing you can’t handle.

taglist:

@theintimatewriter @mandyjo8719 @storiesbyrhi @lady-munson @moonmark98 @squidscottjeans @therealbaberuthless @emxxblog @chrissymjstan @loves0phelia @kthomps914 @aysheashea @reidsbtch @mmunson86 @b-irock @ginasellsbooks @erinekc @the-unforgivenn @dashingdeb16 @micheledawn1975 @yujyujj @eddies-acousticguitar @daisy-munson @kellsck @bewitchedmunson @foreveranexpatsposts @mykuup @chatteringfox @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @sapphire4082 @katethetank @sidthedollface2 @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @mysteris-things @mrsjellymunson @josephquinnsfreckles @the-disaster-in-waiting @eddielowe @hugdealer @rip-quizilla @munson-girl @fishwithtitz @costellation-hunter @cloudroomblog @emsgoodthinkin

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #lam

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thepowerofswayze · 5 months ago

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hard launch

pairing: schlatt / musician!reader

word count: 1.4K

warnings & info: rpf, no beta, there are nicknames like "doll" and "angel" because i am not immune to the stereotypical new yorker

summary: You and Schlatt had kept your relationship pretty low profile so far. Now that the cat was basically halfway out of the bag, though, there was no real reason to try and stuff it back in.

☆

The lights were blinding, hot as the sun from where you were standing center stage. You were sweating harder than you thought you ever had, your arms heavy, your chest heaving- and it’s just another night on tour.

You’d had tours before, but this was the North American leg of your first ever world tour. The crowd was bigger than you were used to. You’d blown up in the last year or so, slowly gaining traction and listeners. Once your second album dropped? Everyone knew your name, and every show was sold out.

You couldn’t keep the smile off your face as you sang through your number one hit, the dancers behind you completing a choreography that you could all do in your sleep at this point. Yes, you were tired, but you were also exhilarated. Nothing beat this, hearing more people than you could count singing songs you wrote back at you, just as enthusiastic as you. The song ended with a sustained belt from you, a fist punched in the air as the lights dropped and left you and your dancers in silhouette.

The crowd roared, and you took the moment in the dark to look up at the VIP box, even though you’d been glancing at it the entire performance and you thought you knew exactly what you’d see. Surprisingly, it was empty now, and you had half a mind to wonder where the inhabitants had gone.

You couldn’t linger for long, though, as a click played in your in-ear and you brought your mic down to your lips. One light came on and trained on you as you shouted, “LA!” The crowd thundered in response, cheers threatening to deafen you were it not for the protection of your ear pieces. “You’ve been a lovely crowd. I love you guys so much! Get home safe! Goodnight!” You winked at a face in the crowd, waved at a couple others, then turned on your heel and ran off stage.

Just past the curtains, you slowed to a walk, pulling out your in-ears and handing off your microphone and some props, thanking the assistant that took them from you. You barely caught your breath before you glanced up and saw him- Schlatt. Your boyfriend. Waiting for you backstage. The smile that split your face was mirrored on his, and you took off running.

His arms opened, catching you and sweeping you off your feet, spinning and laughing. You burrowed your head in the side of his neck, grinning so hard it hurt. When he lowered you to the ground, you looked up at him. “Hi.”

Schlatt grinned back at you. “Hey, doll. I thought I’d surprise you back here. Had to pester Julia ‘bout it.”

You turned around and caught the eye of your assistant manager, Julia, who immediately pretended to be busy with her clipboard- a soft smile stayed on her face, though. You made a note to annoyingly smother her with thanks later, then looked back at Schlatt. “I saw that the VIP box was empty at the end- I thought you just dipped early.”

Schlatt scoffed, comedic offense on his face, brows furrowed. “And miss the end of my stupidly talented girlfriend's first show on her first ever sold out tour? To what, get to my car before traffic picks up? Fat chance, baby.”

You giggled, pulling him down for a kiss by the back of his neck.

When Julia cleared her throat behind you, still not looking up but instead scribbling away, you sighed and untangled from Schlatt, ignoring his mock pout and opting to hold his hand instead. You knew your assistant manager was signaling that you needed to change out so they could get all your things stored and ready to leave in the morning. After you changed, you’d have the whole night to yourself.

“What are you doing now?” You asked Schlatt, tilting your head as you led him further backstage and down a hallway. “Hungry?”

Schlatt grinned. Even looking straight ahead, you could feel his expression, his raised eyebrows. “What, y’askin me on a date?”

All you could do was snicker as you pushed open your dressing room door, dragging him inside with you, telling him to shut up and help you take everything off. He eagerly obliged.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

The diner you picked wasn’t too busy- it was late enough and far away enough from the concert arena that you weren’t really afraid of getting recognized and mobbed. Besides, you’d changed into a disguise of a sweatsuit and a baseball cap. Schlatt grinned and let you know that your disguise was actually so stereotypical it was a light up billboard. You poked him every time someone walked past you, blissfully unaware of who you were, and gave him a smug smirk.

You and Schlatt split a (huge) margarita and each got a meal, sitting on the same side of a booth so you could lean on him. He kept an arm wrapped around your shoulders at every possible moment. You listened to how the podcast was going, he listened as you detailed rehearsal and promised to send him pictures of your trailer. You promised to facetime whenever you could- you’d been away for shows before, but you hadn’t had a tour since you started dating a couple months ago. You were going to miss him, and by the way he kept pressing little kisses to the top of your head, you could guess that he’d miss you, too.

When both of your meals were finished (and you’d stolen enough fries off Schlatt’s plate), you laid your head on Schlatt’s shoulder and pulled out your phone, going through tik toks you’d been tagged in from that night's concert. You left comments on a few and reposted others, sometimes asking for Schlatt’s input on what to say, sometimes snorting and rolling your eyes at his responses.

You came across a video from the end of the night- it started with you yelling “LA!”, the crowd screaming, and then your goodbye. It didn’t end there, though- as you jogged off stage, the camera panned and followed, showing you handing off your microphone and props. The footage was a little grainy, but you could definitely make out Schlatt watching you, then the moment you saw him waiting. A toothy grin overtook your face right before you broke into a sprint and launched into his arms. The video ended with him spinning you, your laugh silent but clearly visible before you hid your face in his neck, and the video looped.

You lifted your head off Schlatt’s shoulder, turning to look at him. A beat passed, and the both of you broke into slow, goofy smiles.

“Looks like they got us, huh, angel?” Said Schlatt. He didn’t look at all upset about it- in fact, he looked pretty excited.

Truthfully, you didn’t hate it either. The two of you had been staying cautious, but your fans knew you were seeing someone, and so did his. With how big you both were in your respective careers, you didn’t want the pressure to blow this thing you had before it even really started. But it had been a little over six months. He’d asked you to officially be his girlfriend. You’d told him you loved him, and he’d said it back. And now, your fans found out in the cutest possible way.

You hummed, leaning up to press a kiss to Schlatt’s cheek. You leaned back into Schlatt, typing up a comment on the tik tok (“whoops.”- it made Schlatt snort), then opening up the instagram camera.

The photo was sickeningly sweet- your hat was off and Schlatt’s chin rested atop your head, a goofy smile on his face and your face scrunched in a wink and a grin. You added a smiley emoticon and a heart, and part of a song that reminded you of him, then posted it to your story.

Almost immediately, your inbox was flooded with replies, but you just turned off your phone for a moment. You turned to face Schlatt. “I’m really glad I can do that now. It feels nice.”

He hummed, smirking as he raked his eyes over you. “Me, too. I’m about to make everyone sick of how much I’ll talk about you.” You giggled, and his hands dropped to your waist as you gave him a proper kiss- sufficiently distracting him so you could grab another fry.

#jschlatt #schlatt #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x reader #schlatt x musician!reader #chuckle sandwich #ted you're next

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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 10 months ago

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Do you long for having your heart interlinked? (Miguel O’Hara x Ai/Hologram! Fem! reader) Part 2

Hiiii! Part two as promised, not proofread. Once again, heavily inspired by K and Joi’s relationship in bladerunner 2049. And there will not be a part 3, but enjoy regardless!

(Y/N)-Your name.

Cursing, Miguel being all mad scientisty at the beginning , Miguel being a bit of a perv at the beginning if you squint, talks about cutting of synthetic flesh, Miguel being a sad and desperate man if you squint a bit harder , Slight existentialism. lmk if I miss anything.

Word count: 2.2k

Part 1

Masterlist

—

“Miguel?”

His shoulders tensed up upon hearing your voice ring through his office, despite your inability to appear in the room, he always got nervous that one day you’ll end up just popping up in the middle of him working on your physical form.

“Yes?” His voice low, thick with concentration as wipes some sweat off his forehead with a handkerchief he had tossed to the side of his desk. Careful to not bump his glasses as he kept his eyes focused on wrapping the synthetic skin around your left hand, apart from the nails, it was the last bit of your arms that needed to be completed.

“It’s currently 2:24 am, you need to rest.”

“Tomorrow is my day off, I’m fine.” He replied, putting down his black marker and removing the faux skin from around the arm, placing it flat on the table as he picked up his exacto knife and began to prepare to slice off the excess skin. He needed to make sure to cut off the right amount, not wanting to cut off too little and having waste parts he could use on the rest of your body, it was almost as if he was vinyl wrapping a car.

“You still planned on going to HQ tomorrow, you need to rest.” Your words were only met with silence. “Miguel I’ll cut the power if you don’t leave that office of yours and go to bed, you’ll be insufferable tomorrow, you're even more cranky when you don’t get enough sleep.” You scolded him, Miguel’s lip twitched upwards at the mental image of your left hand on your hip with the other pointed a finger at him, your coding making non-existent wrinkle lines appear where your brows furrowed together, and next to your lips as you frown at his inability to take care of his own needs without you to remind him.

“Alright alright…” He mumbled, taking in a deep breath before blinking some sleep out of his eyes, you knew him so well. “Let me finish up, I’ll be out in twenty minutes, tops.” Instead of a verbal answer like he was expecting, he got the sound of your hologram being deactivated. Letting out a small amusement exhale from his nose when he realizes that you were physically waiting for him outside of his office door. How cute…

He was able to finish the arm up in sixteen minutes, placing the finished arm next to the other one, from the fingertips to the shoulder, packing them away properly in a briefcase that resembled those a musician would put their instrument in, he pondered on what part to work on next. Should he develop another external body part? Your legs, your torso? You’d be anatomically correct of course because he knows that’s how’d you’d want to be (and not for completely other unrelated reasons), or maybe on one of your internal “organs”, though completely made up of wiring and metal he wanted it to mimic the human body as much as he could.

“Miguel, it’s been twenty minutes.” Your voice apparently brought him out of his train of thought, making him rush to the door before you fulfill your threat of shutting the power, you’ve done it before on him.

“Alright, alright… I’m going…” he grumbled under his breath as he made his way to his room.

—

“I sent Hobie and Gwen to deal with that anomaly on Earth-A145… Jess wanted to speak to you about training for that new recruit you’ll be meeting tomorrow… and we’re gotten the thumbs up on reopening sector 6 again now that the repairs from last week are finished.” You read off your mini report from your holographic tablet, sitting on the edge of Miguel’s desk as you swung your feet as you looked back up at him. You were always in your smaller form around HQ, finding it easier for your system so you don’t get overwhelmed too quickly or easily.

Miguel replied back in a hum, his eyes trained on the screens in front of him, zoning in on watching the two spider-teens take down a Doc Ock variant pressing his lips together as he tries to keep his mind from wandering, he’s been having trouble with that recently. Letting out a grumble when he heard the faint sound of your screen dinging, internally groaning at the conversation you were both about to enter.

“Miguel…” You glanced at your tablet again, “your vitals are off again, Miguel.” You noted as you tapped around, your brows frowning together as you scowl lightly. “They’ve been like that for the past few weeks… did you want me to make an appointment with your doctor?” You asked as you looked back up at him, watching the way his nostrils expanded slightly as he exhaled out from them, shaking his head light.

“No, (Y/N), that’s not necessary.” He mumbled softly, lifting a hand in the air to wave off the concern, making you let out a huff of frustration, before phasing out and reappearing in front of him with a frown and your arms crossed over your chest. Miguel went to wave his hand through you, it passed through your programming as he silently told you to go away, his frown growing slightly deeper when he realizes that wasn’t going to rid of you.

“Miguel, don't start. Ever since a few months ago when you started to lock yourself up in your office at home, I’ve been starting to worry about you.” After your sentence, the tablet dings again, his heart rate, but you didn’t even glance at it as you look up at him.

“You don’t have to say that.” He responds automatically, his go to respond when you express concerns about him or compliment him in a way a human would. It made his heart skip a beat and sink simultaneously. Despite him overriding your original code, you were still meant to simulate romantic emotions. No matter what, that would always still be attached to you, and it didn’t help Miguel’s rapidly worsening pining for you.

“I know, I want to.” You’d always reply.

If only you knew you were the reason behind your own concerns.

“I’m fine, I promise.” He reassured you in a clam yet commanding voice, his hand going to play with the little metal spider figure on his desk that Peter had brought him one time after a mission. Your eyes narrowed towards him for a split second, before going back to their neutral position, your lips twitching up in a smile, you choose to believe him.

“If you say so, Mig.” You said before phasing away.

He let out a small hum, his lips curving upwards slightly as his eyes shifted down to the metal spider. It would be a nice addition to the metal heart he was about to start building…

—

“Morning Miguel.” The sound of your voice always helped put a smile on his face before he even opened his eyes.

“Good morning.” He replied in that same raspy voice he always did, slowly getting up and out of bed to stretch before starting his morning ritual. Groaning slightly as he felt his vertebrae pop back into place.

“I’m already warming up your coffee,” You said as your coding developed in front of him in your full size, watching as he twisted his torso to pop his hips, before going off to his restroom to get ready for his morning. Today was one of those rare days where he was off from his normal day job at Alchemax, and although he never true gave himself a day off, spending those spare days brooding up in his secluded area up in the HQ tower, watching dozens of screens to make sure that the multiverse didn’t collapse under his watch, but today was special, so he had Jess watch over the society for the day.

“Today’s a special day, (Y/N). You know why?” He asked, sipping on his coffee, as he glances at your presence in his kitchen as he waits for his bagel to pop out from the toaster behind you, a plate already waiting next to the cream cheese and a spreading knife.

You just tilted your head to the side, that once-in -a-blue-moon look of confusion crosses your face as you quickly look over his digital calendar for the day in your internal system only to be met with nothing. Because he purposely left it off, just to see that adorable rare look on your digital features. It was written on a sticky note in his home office instead.

January 14, 2099. (Y/N)’s activation date.

That was two years ago now, exactly down to the day. Miguel finally let out a chuckle when you eventually shrugged your shoulders, waiting for him to tell you.

“Today is the two year anniversary of you being my assistant.” He said as the sound of his breakfast finally popping up, you moving aside to get out of Miguel’s pathway despite his ability to phase through you, knowing how he feels weird about it.

“Really? It doesn’t quite feel that long for me.” You comment as you watch him complete his meal before taking a bit out of the still steaming thing of bread, watching the way the cream cheese slowly starts to melt and drip down onto the plate from the hole in the center of the bagel.

The concept of time to you was a thing you really only understood in theory, it felt like almost… a bubble. On the inside was Miguel, or humans in general. They were born, they celebrate each year when the earth does a full rotation around the sky, they grow up, grow old then they eventually die. Everyday they walk up, usually around the same time, go about their day as they attempt to stick to a schedule before going to sleep. Miguel will leave to work around in the morning, stay till afternoon and slave himself away till tiredness seeps itself into his bones or until you nag him to sleep. Whereas for you, you just kind of… woke up one day for a lack of better words, not how Miguel does though, you don't get tired, you don’t need to rest. Sure, you could overworked your system, you “sleep”, but sleep for you was when you weren’t being useful to Miguel, it’s almost like how you’ve read up how humans experience sleep, expect when they’re minds become free to dream about whatever their hearts long for during their R.E.M cycles, you just become enveloped in nothingness. There is no pitch blackness, no foggy stretch of infinite void for you to wander. Just that, nothingness, and just like humans forget 90% percent of what they dream of at night, you forget what it feels like when you are temporarily shut off. Despite living outside of that bubble of a timeline, you attempted to mimic it when you could, just to indulge yourself from time to time. For him, it felt exactly like those 730 days had passed, to you only a few rips of the fabric of time and space. Time was a man-made concept after all.

Miguel has noticed you’ve been using the word feel more. Despite your lack of a psyche, it felt like you were only growing more sentient by the day with Miguel’s help, on occasion encouraging you to come up with an original thought or opinion when he could coax it out of you.

“It has.” He continued as he finished his breakfast, placing the dirty dishes in the skin and the food items back where they belonged in the fridge. “And, I got you a gift.” Your face returns to that wonder, making Miguel’s lip curl up into a smile.

“You did?” You asked as you watched Miguel leave the kitchen with a response, waiting a moment to see he’d come back, going to zap to his location when he didn't, only to be met with the sight of his office door instead. Frowning as you wait for him.

The frown quickly became replaced with shock when he finally opened the door only to be met with the sight of you, it was you in the form of a robot. You slowly bring your hand out to go and touch it once he brought it through the doorway, your holographic form glitching through your new physical one as you pass it through your face. Bright wide eyes going from it to Miguel as he speaks again, a soft smile covering his features as he looked down at it with pride, your robotic form, eyes closed, head dropped down in front of you and arms hanging loosely by your side, the same way moments before you were first were booted up two years ago.

“You can use it around the house or whenever you feel like when you want to accompany me on non-Spider-Man related errands. Around HQ or during my patrols though it would be best if you stayed in your digital form.” You stayed quiet as your hand ghost over the fabric of your outfit, he even made sure to replicate the one you’d always wore. He cleared his throat as his eyes shifted to you. “Did you want to try it out?”

“Please.”

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st

#miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara au #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv miguel #astv spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderverse #miguel fanfic #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x ai reader #spiderman 2099 fanfic #miguel ohara spiderman #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderman #Miguel O’Hara fanfic

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somewhere-at-the-burrow · 3 months ago

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I'm really curious about what job options are in the wizard world!! In the movies & books they show so little, like aren't there other professions besides working at the ministry, owning a shop, or being a teacher?

I was so so curious about this as well before I shifted.. so I am glad to answer!

thank you so much for the ask <33

something unique about the wizarding world is how common it is for the average wizard/witch to work a main job and a side job (usually creative). Arthur used to work two jobs, one at the Ministry and one at an antique artifacts office in Diagon Alley, but he doesn't go there as often to spend more time with the family!

because the wizarding population is so slim, many people are not afraid to show their skills and try different things, as we rely on each other in our secret little world! for example, many of my friends have wizarding parents who have written a book, sometimes about commonplace things or about research topics or art, even!

I definitely wasn't expecting this, but the wizarding world loves to share information through magazines, books, plays, etc. they have bookstores that are always releasing new books, and there are many popular magazines that have whole teams of people who work on them every day! so being a writer is definitely very common in my DR

there is also a rise in radio hosts and commentators, and there are many shows you can tune in to on certain days of the week. there are also many wizards / witches who go to quidditch games worldwide and their job is to commentate and keep radio stations informed on the games. when I went to the League cup, there was constant chatter of radio hosts broadcasting to worldwide quidditch channels!

on a different note, many people choose to go down the research / conservation scientist route, and this is usually paired with authoring a book or documenting with the Ministry. Cedric's mom (Kelley) goes on many trips to Scandinavia and those regions to document magical plants and their properties, and she comes back and writes artistic books under the pen name Kellory.

many witches/wizards will collaborate with magical governments worldwide to better help wildlife in different locations and preserve the wizarding culture around them! this also comes with people who work with animals / beasts, and there are breeders, tamers, and caretakers. these jobs need lots of training and experience, but they are so vital to the care of magical creatures.

working at inns, bars, and restaurants is also very common, and for some people that is their only job. take Rosmerta in the Three Broomsticks for example... she works and lives there, and these roles are incredibly important in small wizarding towns like Hogsmeade. this also comes with cooks, and when the barmaids and the bakers come together, absolutely ICONIC restaurants are born and food really ties us all together so it is PERFECT!

there are also traditional jobs like being a broom-maker. this is kind of a dying art with mass produced racing brooms becoming the norm, but many wealthier families will pay for customized brooms and sometimes the artists hold teaching workshops. I went to one at the beginning of summer, and I made my own broom from maple and apple branches with my dad. the broom-maker and his team did help us with enchanting it, though, but it didn't cost as much as I thought it would and I am so glad I got that experience!! wand-maker is also a very similar job! I love folk arts <3

I forgot about actors, musicians, and singers too! there are so many littler bands in the wizarding world, and it is pretty easy to gain an audience (at least for a short amount of time). a lot of popular musicians will also go on to write books too, so double whammy!

AND ALSO HEALERS—— any type, people are obsessed with wanting to become a healer in my DR! St. Mungo's is the most popular workplace, but there are also private healers who go to wealthy households and healers who work around quidditch games! it always requires schooling after hogwarts, but it is a very common route!

honorable mentions include herbologist, farmer (who tends to magical plants and sells them), greenhouse owner (similar to farmer, except more "pretty" plants), professional quidditch player / substitute player, magical photographer, traveling saleswizard, magical translators, and being a psychic medium!

I hope this helped!! if you have any more questions about any of these jobs in depth, I can try and answer to the best of my ability!

all I do in my DR is study the world around me... I am just so fascinated by it! i love rambling about these little things :,)

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leadmetothegardenbetty · 1 month ago

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OKAY I AM ON THE TRAIN SO HERE IS THE BREAKDOWN MY FRIENDS:

• I got there late bc I didn’t plan well enough and thought I’d be okay time wise and it was Not Okay and I fully almost had a panic attack complete with crying and hyperventilating bc I knew I was gonna be at least five minutes late

• Since I got there late I’m not sure if they did like an intro to the film but in attendance was: Kyle, Emily, Adam (director), JP (director of cinematography), Ross (producer)

• They talked a lot about things we’ve already gathered from interviews when the movie initially came out (i.e., they got time to spend together before they first started shooting, all the music was written first before shooting started — mentioned how Watermelon came to fruition through Emily journaling in character as Patty and that Adam played all the music for Watermelon, also mentioned how Kyle blew out his voice twice during the process of recording for PSYOPS (he apparently tried to prep by singing along to the tracks in his car which as a Bad Idea))

• I did not actually know/do not know if this has been shared before but Kyle and Emily flew out to the shoot together and Adam booked it so their seats would be next to each other, they talked about how much time they spent together and how they would grill steaks, have dinner together,

• There was a Pumpkin mention (the pitbull Kyle got from his neighbor that he bought off of him bc he could see the dog needed a better home), also apparently Kyle found out at 5:30 AM during the shoot of the PSYOPS show that the former owner of Pumpkin was willing to sell her to him and there were a bunch of problems with the dog (she had her period, had to wear diapers, etc, etc))

• Emily talked about how playing Patty healed her inner child and she talked about how Kyle and her really just played versions of themselves in Patty and Simon. Kyle mentioned how he’s always loved punk/pop punk and he grew up in mosh pits and he loved getting to be a musician for this movie (I was tempted to yell out FINGERS ERASURE at one point because Adam and Kyle both talked about how Kyle had “never been in a band before” but alas I am a coward and idk if it would’ve been appreciated lmao)

• A couple people asked Adam for writing/creative advice, he told them to just kind of go for it!

• Kyle and Emily touched on how important it was for the film to go to those crazy/more vulgar places to really show what Patty was going through

• There was A LOT of Patty/Emily love!! I think pretty much every audience question was either aimed at Emily or Adam and 9 times out of 10 Kyle or Adam directed the question back to Emily

• Someone did ask when we could expect the PSYOPS tracks to be released and they said they were “working on it”

Overall guys it was an absolute BLAST to see this film with a crowd, I think like half the audience was seeing it for the first time which was fun in itself. There was no singing along and some people laughed at odd parts (I thought) but ultimately getting to watch with Kyle and Emily in the audience and seeing how much love they were getting—especially Emily, was so so incredibly wonderful!!

I am still kind of soaking everything in so if I remember anything else I will reblog and add!!

#dinner in america #kyle gallner #emily skeggs #kait rambles #ifc screening 10/29/24

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wonder-mei · 5 months ago

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The star has fallen (Honkai : Star Rail’s Gepard Landau)

@Chokore_4 on Twitter/X

Reminder : I do not write accurately to the lore of the world I am writing. I write whenever there’s an idea

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The moment Gepard was given a task to guard the Belobog Opera House he was excited to be this near to his crush of years. It was when he was still a trainer in the Silvermane Guards,he went to visit Serval. The moment he stepped inside Neverwinter Workshop, he was greeted by a gentle singing voice; if he could eat the voice he would taste carefully combined flavors of all the sweets he favored. They are all combined into one, the most anticipating sweet he wanted to have.

But he can’t.

That is what he thinks.

She was Serval’s friend and still is. She was from somewhere far away from Belobog,came here to achieve her dream to be an Opera singer. Serval found her through the talking of her mutual musician friends. From that, they both become friends.

Gepard now stands cold in the chilling night with only the moon accompanying him in the dark guiding the entrance of the building from unwelcome guests. His heart screams telling him to go inside and watch her perform. But he has a duty to do. As a captain he needs to obey the orders.

Gepard’s ears focus too hard listening to the faint opera singers sing inside making him so unfocused on his task but luckily the night went well. The guests departed from the building after the opera ended. His eyes wanders into the crowd to see if she is there. She is not.

With disappointment he sighs loudly. His task was finished so he went to the garden to smell the famous jasmines that have a strong fragrance at night. He takes a few deep breaths inhaling and exhaling the flower scent that soothes his disappointment a little. He walks around viewing the well-structured garden. Gepard stops walking exhaling. He closes his eyes and inhales again, smelling the desolate cold and fragrance night.

“Evening,Captain Landau”

The sudden voice made him jump. Gepard turns around raising her gaze. There she was wearing the most beautiful dress he had ever seen. Or is it beautiful because she is wearing it? She stands on a high porch eyeing down him with a smile

“M-miss!--” without thinking Gepard salutes. He quickly puts down his hand when he realizes. The blond captain is madly in the shade of red now

“Salute to you too,Captain Landau”

“Gepard…”

“What?”

“Please just call me Gepard,miss”

“If i have to call you by your name. Call me by my name too”

Gepard’s hitches at her words. He has been calling her by her last name since they met. It’s too strange to call her name…too embarrassing…too intimate in his defense.

“I–uhh–” He stuttered his words. Shaking out of nervousness and red from embarrassment. The woman of his dreams is closer than ever. From looking at her far away through TV’s screen,phones and newspapers. She is now in front of him.

He did have a lot of chances to be near for over the years of her being close friends with his sister. But he will always runs away with stupid excuses ‘The Colonel called me!’ or ‘I have trainers to train!’ and many more excuses. She is so close to him, his mind is blank. Cannot process to either run away or just went invisible.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, tilting her head. ‘She will be the death of me’

Gepard snaps from his deep thoughts “Oh, just wandering around… It is very beautiful here”

She looks around and nods “I’ve been here for quite a few times but never got the chance to walk around”. Her eyes from looking around the garden to him.

She is staring for too long in his liking.

“Oh ohh!” Gepard asked for his hand which she gave her right hand. His other arm wraps around her waist then lifts her from the high porch to the ground. Gepard carefully places her on her feet. He can smell her perfume. He thanks the night with all of his heart or she can see how red he is right now.

“Thank you,Captain Landau”, she thank him taking a step back

“Don’t call me that…” he mumbles looking away. Too shy to look at her

She chuckles “Okay,Gepard. My apologies. So, the flowers does smell refreshing at night” she turns facing the bushes

“Yeah they do…”

They both looks at the flowers for awhile and then-

“Flowers blooms and withers,

But she blooms for eternity…”

Gepard’s mouth gapes open widely. That poem. He wrote that. How does she know that?!

“What?!” his heartbeats faster looking at her with wide eyes

She just laughs at his reaction “Serval told me your poetry. They are very romantic,Gepard. You are a very romantic man. She is very lucky to have you”

“I don’t have a girlfriend..or anything like that”

“I know. I’m just teasing you”

He slaps his face and hides his red face but she holds his hand lowering it. She stares at him with a smile “Don’t hide your face. You are cute…i always love to see your face”

Gepard gasps at her confession “You do?”

“Yes. The Captain of Silvermane Guards, the tough and disciplined captain is actually a shy and easily flustered man. Which made me find it cute”

“Don’t tease me please…”

She intertwines their fingers holding tightly onto him “I've always wanted to talk to you,Gepard. I thought you hated me or you think i’m ugly. I was hurt at first but then Serval showed me your poems. They are all so sweet and so heartfelt” she tightens more “I thought they were all for your partner but no. I have noticed you have been always watching me from afar”

“Really?”

“I like you too,Gepard Landau”

Those words send him into space. So unreal like in a dream he always dreamed of every night but now this is reality. Their feelings are mutual.

“Say it. Say the words you have been dying to say”

“From the moment i see her,

The glimpse of my lifespan flash in my eyes,

And you were there in every moment,

My love and soul”

He picked the first ever poem he wrote about her. The day he knows love. “I love you too”

I do not need a compass, As my heart knows where she is, As for her, She needs guidance, And i willingly to do so, Just like she guided herself into my heart. ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

I listen to a song that matches on the story idea on loop just to feel that vibe from the beginning until the end. I listen to I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys for 2 hours or so.

Like and follow me. And my requests are always open as long you give me an idea for it. Thanks for reading!

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #gepard landau #hsr gepard #gepard x reader

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venusandsaturnsrings · 6 months ago

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The school year finally ended... I hate college SO much :( but I am alive!! I beg for some crumbs of thoughts on Sunday... -chubby darling anon who is very much alive and finally got a mitsuri scale figure <3

putting all of my other fics, blurbs, and asks on PAUSE for this!! congrats!! no more school foorrr… 3ish months!! after dropping out of uni, i’ve been finally considering going back myself for phlebotomy!! canadas health situation is lack lustre rn and the course is less than one year + paid practicum + immediate job placement which is kinda sweet… CONGRATS ON THE FIGURE TOO!! i recently (like a month and a half ago) procured the hatsune miku jirai kei subculture fashion figure and i cannot stress how pretty she is <3 sits on my pc right now bc my shelves are full… ANYWAYS… love you!!

includes: silly sunday hcs, potential story spoilers, maybe ooc im still feeling him out, praise, degradation, riding crops, his hands…, and gender neutral reader!!

very poignantly the hopeless romantic type. he’s always functioned as a ‘singularity’ of sorts and over the years developed a certain fondness of it, even if it hurts. it’s worth noting he vividly reminds me of the line ‘i miss the comfort in being sad,’ from nirvanas ‘Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge on Seattle.’ he’s the type of partner to always be stuck in that self-absorbed martyr mindset a little bit.

pragmatic to a fault. Sunday is deeply a skeptic, take his departure from the harmony in favour of the order, as an example. it’s cool because it means you’ll never have to worry about any technicalities but it also means he has a hard time letting go of control or being spontaneous.

very into more subtle romantic gestures and an absolute gentleman. you’ll have flowers at your door at least once a week and he makes sure to take all of your preferences into consideration when planning dates (he will be the one planning). keeps his hand on your lower back most of the time, the waist is far too scandalous!!

not a big texter. he prefers speaking face to face and will call if he can’t come see you. that said, he’ll make sure to like or respond to all of the silly pictures and messages you send, even if it’s a dry ‘haha’ or just a heart. occasionally, you’ll find that he’s sent you a letter, ask about and he’ll shrug and say he simply wanted something more heartfelt if he’s to communicate written. he’s got a special stamp to seal the ones he sends you.

grabs your phone when you go to show him something. no explanation i just feel it in my bones.

although he’s no singer, he’s still a classically trained musician. i imagine he was taught the violin but went on to learn his preferred instrument, the harp, himself. he’s a bit shy about playing so rather than asking, just wait until he thinks it’s late and you’re not around to hear; he’s got quite the set of fingers.

…speaking of fingers, my bread and butter, he’s beyond skilled with playing you. while he enjoys getting down to business, getting to leisurely spread you open and thrum against all your nerves gets him going. could spend hours having you laid out, in his lap, on the floor, wherever, just gently coaxing you open, wet, and pliant for himself.

off of that, he likes you best worn down to soft edges and weak desperation. getting to play the saviour, making you come undone, has him stiff in his pants.

lots of sweet praise and subtle degradation. things like, “you want to be good for me, don’t you my sweet?,” or, “now, now, don’t get greedy on me. be patient, silly thing, and i’ll appease all of your foolish whims,” annddd, “come now, you’ve been so well for me, angel, don’t ruin that with any useless whines.”

he’s not one for being too harsh against you but push the right buttons and you’ll get a ‘dumb’ or ‘stupid’ here and there. Sunday doesn’t curse but he knows his way around how to make you feel inferior and looked down upon.

he likes the power play of staying fully and pristinely clothed while your completely nude, save for maybe a pretty collar he’s got you belled with. if you’re real trouble, say maybe a no good criminal causing problems on Penacony and once arrested you’re at his disposal and oh so pretty, he’ll find a nice muzzle to fix you with.

strikes, no pun intended, me as the type to have an affinity for riding crops over anything else for punishments. you’ll get the same sugarcoated degradation while he comments on how you’re not even good enough to be so close to his gloved hand that he just must use the crop!! (he likes the pretty bruises it leaves).

#cw: degradation #cw: riding crops #sunday x reader #sunday x you #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #chit chats #chubby darling anon my beloved!#i think he’s a real slime ball #but… very interesting i fear #i like how… stiff?? purposeful?? assertive?? he is #very much a mixed bag of marbles and i like that!!#kisses u btw

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blueberrypancakesworld · 3 months ago

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Surprise visit with needs

modern!Aemond x servant!reader

warning : +18, smut, mommy issues, breast play, thigh job (humping), implied age gap (Aemond is in his 20s and reader in her 30s), hurt/comfort, family problems, aemond needs reassurance, kissing, fluff, no use of y/n, nicknames : Ma'm/Mommy/Muse

Summary : Just because you're the second son of the rich Targaryen family doesn't mean you're automatically a somebody. Ignored by his father and mother, Aemond takes the path as a musician, but after a small concert but all the more the cries and accusations of his parents he comes back home exhausted, broken but above all looking for comfort a comfort that only one can give him…

info : OMG the pictures i mean all like how beautiful can someone be an angel, my muse he is so pretty and deserves only more photos thanks for the help in choosing the reader and i wish everyone a lot of fun reading ;)

masterlist

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The night was cool too late to even call it evening but still too early to herald the morning. A time when no one was on the streets anymore and no one wanted to be in King's Landing even though the city was large with many neighbourhoods and their histories it was still a city riddled with poverty, brutality and the power of the youth who held various parties and concerts every night in the pubs and various factory buildings.

A city that had stood for hundreds of years and had always belonged to them, the dragons as they were called because of the family crest that dated back to the Middle Ages when they conquered the city with fire and had ruled ever since.

The Targaryen family silver haired beauties with more money and influence than you could imagine whether it was the sea routes of trade through the Velaryons or the other influential families like the Baratheons or Arryns it was a family that had many members but above all the family had a black sheep, one member that stood out.

One son is good he is the heir but the second son he is like a shadow never really important always second and never the hope of the future no matter how well he learnt or trained with the sword no matter how many times Aemond met his older brother with the blade no matter how many tournaments and medals he brought back home it never seemed enough never even close.

So he withdrew, though still part of the time, when his father or mother, even his grandfather, or his teacher Criston demanded it, he was there like a ‘dog’, but each time it came back differently less gold more free dragon….at least that's what he thought.

A free dragon who did what he wanted to do, a guitar on his leg playing and his lips on the microphone he entertained the city that had given him more than once what the rich son needed and wanted, on his hands the silver rings and the dragon tattoo on his arm and yet at the end of the day.

When the moon was over the city and the dark alleys were only slightly illuminated, he was still dressed in gold when he went back through the high, thick iron gate and was always let in by the servants or sneaked in.

But then the fire of his parents' disappointment hardly hurt him anymore, it was more the threat that he would take away his guitar and send him away to his great cousin or whatever Rhaenys was related to in order to “get some fresh air” by the sea, as his father always glossed over it.

He sometimes avoided the older man's gaze, sometimes held his own, but all Aemond saw was a rich old man who had overreached himself and couldn't really see what his well-born family was really going through.

But the thing that hurt the most when he looked in his room helpless on the bed and the guitar next to him was hearing his mum's footsteps his mum standing in the open door her disappointment ,,I really thought you were better matured than Aegon I am disappointed Aemond everything is already complicated and you are making it worse" her words clearly audible in the room but he tried not to hear them.

The green and gold always showing the colours of her family, her blood that she always carried close to her and that he himself had worn most of the time but now everything just seemed so monotonous and overwhelming.

He just nodded slightly and looked down at the pain of his scar throbbing, stabbing, disturbing him saying that he was a bad prince a bad son a disappointment before the door closed and he was alone in the room alone with his feelings but most of all with no one to turn to.

I've given everything mother he thought he wanted to tell her but knew it wasn't enough and instead sighed trying to distract himself with his guitar and record collection but after the time of self-pity, hatred and insecurity his stomach grumbled.

He heard the confused growl of Vhagar lying on her dog basket, an old wolfhound that had belonged to his grandfather and just seemed to be going through the motions, a friend when he needed to get out of the castle and someone soft to cheer him up even if it was just rolling the ball back and forth, but when he was hungry Vhagar couldn't help much.

,,Umbās Vhagar I'll be right back’ he commanded the dog in the old language from the former land from which his ancestors supposedly came, but it had been lost for centuries and nothing more than ruins of Valyria remained, but even his ancestors would not help him.

Opening the door to the long hallway, he could hear his brother's snoring even through the door, but above all he could smell the odour of grass and beer, the typical smell of the heir to the throne, ,,How beguiling," he murmured cynically and turned his eyes to see the small ray of light under the room next to his and he calmed down slightly.

His dear sister Helaena was not awake, not a rarity as her interests, which were centred on insects and nature, only allowed few public appearances like his only when necessary.

He had no interest in her insects but he enjoyed her company when he wrote a book of new songs and listened to her thoughts that she spoke to him, some of which he turned into songs and gave her as a birthday present, a thing that always made her happy.

But ignoring his family, knowing that his father was asleep and his mother was probably on another floor for a ‘meeting’ with Criston Cole, he had a clear and safe route down to the first floor where the large open-plan kitchen and living room were located.

The walls honoured the family with old murals of legends and legends of dragons and the taking of King's Landing by his ancestor Aegon and his sisters' wives Visenya and Rhaenys, a legend and story with truth and fantasy that he could learn and interpret in contrast to Aegon whose face he had to see again as he looked at the large family picture but turned his image away from the black and white photograph.

Emotions welled up in him again and he twisted the silver rings on his fingers trying to turn away from the pain of his scar and his mind as he saw the moon shining into the kitchen, his only companion on the way back and oh now there was only one person who would see him.

Still and quiet it was in the house not loud and full of life like the old bar he had played in where people cheered and cheered and listened to him and he felt somehow loved as his body shook with his own voice and the vibration of his guitar.

It was freedom, a life he should have and actually was allowed to have because as a second son he was good for nothing but looking good when his parents needed him to, he was no hope and would never matter.

His emotions boiled inside him as he ripped open the door to the fridge and after grabbing the first best thing he could after what he wanted again he took out the bottle of milk and slammed the door shut again and turned to the pull out cupboard and just took the cereal and poured it into a bowl the little tinkling of the single oat flakes and other dried seeds were almost like music.

But the sounds drowned in the milk as the crunchy sound of chewing kept coming up in the silence and the rich prince sat down on the kitchen counter with the bowl in front of him and brought the spoon to his mouth again and again, savouring the taste of the ice-cold milk with the cereal it felt like the only thing he had eaten after breakfast in the morning before sneaking out again.

It was like this almost every day, sometimes only every other day when he was forced by his mum to join the family or even attend the visit of his half-sister and her family, a thing he hated and his tongue always made a cynical comment to his half-nephew Lucerys.

It may have all been an accident back then, playing around with the sharp letter opener and naive children but the damage was done and now he wore either the black eye patch or the dark blue sapphire prosthetic eye, his injury the only good thing was that his mum was with him again for a long time.

Her voice soft with a hint of worry but mostly love and apology when she held his hand, stroked his head and always gave him a gentle kiss on the head before falling asleep but most of all she was proud of him to get through this being as strong as a dragon for a small moment he had seen that she wished so much that he had become Aemond the firstborn and not his brother Aegon.

But that wish and that time had been over for more than a decade and so now he sat here almost laughing at the irony of it all and yet he seemed to feel the tingling on his skin where she had always touched him, given him comfort whether he was really hurting or lying it didn't matter as long as his mother loved him and wasn't disappointed it didn't seem to matter.

Lost in his thoughts about the time of comfort and love, he noticed too late the footsteps coming towards him from the dark of the house, the woman coming towards him, the high heels making a clacking sound and the dark uniform with white embroidery was an image he saw every day, but even so, when the older woman said ,,Good evening Aemond" he winced violently and dropped the spoon into the bowl, the milk splashing slightly and sticking to the ends of his hair.

His eyes went from the spilt milk to her and he saw that she was still wearing her uniform, she always wore it, there didn't seem to be a day or night when she didn't wear it.

The black dress that went up to her thighs, the dark nylon tights sometimes white or blending in with her skin and clinging to her legs, the black high heels she could run in and often did when his brother threatened to throw up on the carpet and she had to practically carry Aegon into the bathroom.

But the white embroidery on the edge of her dress and on her wrists bright white pure innocent fabric that never had a stain she always seemed to be the purest thing in the house, no the purest thing in his family.

,,Good evening…Miss" he replied and swallowed to moisten his drying throat which didn't quite work so he tried to take a spoonful of the milk which didn't quite work either as half of it was in his dark hair and on the kitchen counter.

As always, she smirked, her lips a slight smile and her voice revealing joy and slight infatuation when the prince addressed a simple servant as Miss, but he had been doing this too since she had been here for as long as he could remember, she was there for them all and especially for him, ,,I could have made you something proper" she said casually and came up to him he saw her casually drop a silver thimble into her dress pocket.

His mother had always insisted on having her clothes hand-tailored by her and it had to be extravagant but it took a bit of time she only had at night or in the morning.

,,No need I just wanted something small" he lied and he saw her briefly sceptical look as she looked at him and still turned away to grab a drying cloth and held it under the tap she wiped the milk off the kitchen counter and he only now realised how close she was to him.

He blocked the stains but she only briefly put a hand on his wrist and signalled him to stay seated but instead of continuing to eat his food he couldn't help but feel the warmth on his leg and side as she moved to clean him, her warm soft body pressing against him again and again.

Aemond almost flinched when she used the drying towel to lightly dry his hair and a few of the stains on his khaki trousers and the light-coloured helmet to make it easier to wash, ,,Don't-you don't have to do it," he tried to stop her but she put his hand aside and took the bowl from his hand.

He almost felt stupid just sitting here, being served everything like his brother and having everything given to him but…now just as she put the cloth aside and gave him an almost motherly look, ,,Don't you? Oh Aemond how many times has it happened now mhh?" she asked him alluding not only to their nightly meetings but also to the nights and mornings when he had to deal with his parents, his feelings were hurt and a broken boy who could never lie in his mother's arms again longed for exactly that.

A prince who wanted to be king in the shadow of his brother and would never be of the same value again, a maimed prince who deep inside longed for something he would never get again.

,,I-I wanted to apologise he threatened me again but mother her disappointment burned like a fire" he admitted slowly lowering his head he looked at the soiled clothes and he felt the lump in his throat as he thought of his mother's look again.

She only seemed to look at him like that for the last few months and weeks since the day he had dyed his light hair black and taken care of his business but since then Alicent hadn't even hugged or touched her second son. It was as if he didn't exist and he longed for more physical contact night after night.

No one appreciated him in what he did, no one appreciated her, it was she who had taught him to play the guitar, had practised with him, had given him a hug after his first concert instead of the shouting of his parents and the jokes of a brother that Aemond Taryren preferred to socialise with the common people rather than the big crowd.

But she like a ghost was always with him even when the tears rolled down his cheek when his mother hurt him like no one else could, ,,I'm sure she would have understood, I get it you were looking for fun, recognition and love is normal no shame" her voice replied softly.

Not a hint of reproach to be heard in it as her hand laid on his cheek her fingers caressed his skin and he slowly closed his eye and snuggled up to her hand. Warm and soft as everything of hers she always welcomed him into her arms as he leaned his head against the crook of her neck.

She always smelled of sweet biscuits and warm clothes, a smell that represented a mother to him, a sense of security that he so wanted to have again, ,,I was never good enough," she heard the words that had probably plagued him all evening as his fingers wrapped around her, he squeezed her and she held him, stroking his back and he slowly, slowly pressed himself closer to her, trying to push his neediness straight towards her.

,,Shhh don't say that for me you've always been more than enough Aemond,’ she made him hear what he needed, what he wanted before he lifted his head to look at her his eye dark in the night seemed to slowly replace itself with lust and desire before he came closer to her just waiting for her consent which she gave him with a nod before he pressed his lips to hers.

His fingers that were on her tightened not tearing at her fabric yet he seemed afraid she would leave him, let go like his mother that she would never hold him his sigh sent a shiver down her spine as his centre slowly pressed against her thigh as she stood practically between his legs.

The cold leather of his black jacket fell away from his shoulders as she slipped it off, ,,I'm only here for you," she told him again, slightly breathless as she ran her fingers over his lip and kissed his scar, noticing the twitching of his skin with excitement and arousal.

His reaction warmed his cheeks and he closed his eye enjoying this special kind of love on something grotesque like him and she almost thought she heard a whimper from him, ,,You love me" he said but she knew it was more of a question than a statement her fingers trying to reach his shirt were held by him almost shaking with ignorance.

,,Of course I love you like a mother loves her child, a dragon loves fire or humans love money…in the end I will be everything you want me to be Aemond," she reminded him, still reminding him of the reality he was in with her, where they were and what it would mean if they were discovered.

Their eyes met she almost thought she saw tears in his eyes until she saw a slight smile of satisfaction his lips kissed her hands and he nuzzled her lips again seeking another kiss to get close to her and savour her love.

Her fingers opened his shirt slightly and stroked his unblemished skin massaging his taut muscles slightly and a relieved moan came over his lips, ,,That's it, just relax my love," she whispered, her lips lightly kissing his neck and sometimes her fingernails leaving red streaks that seemed to burn like fire for a moment.

She noticed his own efforts at arousal as he slowly rubbed against her thigh while his hands pushed her dress up just a bit, he would never expose her the way Aegon had tried several times.

She was his muse, the substitute for a mother's comfort or simply a past of his own that he wished he could have had longer, ,,May I? " he asked as his fingers travelled up her dress, gently making small circles or scratches as he felt her underwear under the fabric but his fingers were on the top of her dress.

However, she realised herself that with his touches and kisses, her body was also reacting to him, the slight arousing throbbing in her middle, the tingling in her body that made her nipples slowly harden and she could see very well that even in the low light that his eye had fixed on her breasts, her nipples were pressing lightly against the fabric, even the bra couldn't hide it, ,,Of course you can," she gave Aemond permission and pulled back from him, giving him what he wanted as his skilful fingers pulled the fabric of her dress down slightly to rest against her bra.

She smirked as she saw his brief puzzlement in his eye her bra was the same dark sapphire colour as his eye but it seemed to please the prince for a moment creating a smirk, ,,A pretty colour" he murmured.

His fingers ran with a light pressure over the lacy bra feeling her goose bumps the warm soft skin but most of all he enjoyed her sigh and encouragement as he lightly massaged her breasts, these full-on encounters had happened too often for him not to know what she liked.

The prince had been too busy with her and what would have been a shame a hundred years ago seemed to be just another bad joke in his whole weird family, ,,Always so hasty," she murmured as he pulled down the lacy fabric covering her nipples faster than usual and looked at her nipples and he immediately let go of her apologetically, she saw how it unsettled him as it reminded him of the question of whether he had done something wrong.

But just as quickly a moan came from his lips and a closing of his eyes as her hand went to his bump and stroked his hardness, ,,But a good boy no matter if you hurry go ahead Aemond I'm not going anywhere" she assured him and her other hand twisted one of the silver rings on his before she picked it up and kissed it sucking lightly and seeing with satisfaction that his cheeks had darkened another shade.

The tightening of his groin replaced his mind of uncertainty with lust as she slowly let go of him and gave herself to him again she let him do it felt him turn to her breasts again for a moment before she let out a throaty moan as his lips came to her nipple almost cautiously knowing what he was doing was shameful like his brother had done in the past but her hand on his head playing with the dark hair assuring him it was okay he closed his eye.

His body relaxed, his breathing steady and the slight sucking sound could be heard as he sucked on her nipple, his fingers massaging the other and her hand caressing him as he rubbed against her thigh every now and then a stifled moan and grunt could be heard.

She knew he would love to have something, something she could not give him until her body was in a certain state but such a thing the dutiful Aemond would never do, Aegon yes but the shame he would bring would be impossible.

Instead he made do with what he had his change was clear to see the uncertainty and hatred and disappointment was gone a broken prince relaxed in the arms of a mother figure he loved in a way even though they were not related.

It was a different kind of affection yet it was an affection a feeling that went with lust ,,So good my muse" she heard his murmur as he looked up at her as she saw lust and gratitude in the dark eye a look of a rich man fallen deep from his dragon fallen.

Her hand brushed from his head over his scar again and gave him a soft kiss on the forehead as she stroked him a little faster, ,,Anything for a good boy," she replied and pressed him against her again, letting him take the pace of his arousal as he rubbed himself against her again and again, following the high as he almost rocked back and forth as if she were holding him properly in her arms.

But he didn't let go of her, he continued to give himself to her, to this secure hold, to the arousal, and she heard his lustful sounds more and more steamed as he rubbed himself against her faster and she kept whispering to him how good he was.

How good and a good boy he was for her, she knew that Aemond needed this and even if the limit of the one-time had long since been crossed, they both knew that it couldn't last forever.

No matter it didn't matter because in the lust her words were lost in his foggy mind where he was trembling with lust holding on to her ,,I-I gonna-ah please" she heard his ragged words barely intelligible in the noise of the large room and yet she knew he was close to his climax the heavy rushed breathing, the needy look in his eye when he looked up at her through his lashes the lust soaked gaze nothing but neediness could be seen.

Her hand played with the lengths of his hair knowing he would wait for her for the words she made him do the neediness before she murmured ,,Come for mummy" to him the whimper and groan he heard as he buried his head in the crook of her neck with a jerk and held on to her and for a moment seemed to forget everything around him.

A sight of shame, lust and embarrassment would see them both like this but it was egall it was egall that he needed her in a perverse way that was not lustful, it was egall that she was above him and could command him if she wanted to because as soon as he broke away from her he was Aemond Targaryen the second prince and millionaire again and she was nothing more than the nameless servant.

She took her hands from him after a few minutes and felt him almost grumble as he lost her warmth, lost her security and devotion, ,,Don't…don't leave me," she heard his voice softly, barely more than a whisper as he reached for her wrist but she pulled it away and adjusted her bra and dress before taking his face in her hands.

The brightness of his eyes returning as the night slowly threatened to end and the royal house of Targaryen would return to ‘normality’ she gently stroked his scar, ,,I am here Aemond call me and I am here ask for me and I am here I will always be here if you need me my prince" she replied and gave him one last kiss on his bruised skin before pulling away from him.

She took the drying towel and the leather jacket with her she would wash the rest of his clothes during the day she heard the clacking of her shoes as he scurried from the kitchen counter ,,Good night" he said after her again it seemed almost ironic to say it now when they had spent the last few hours together and yet he heard her laugh heard her amused laugh which pleased his own comfort.

,,Good night my Prince Aemond I am proud of you…and your last concert’ she said back to him as she gave him one last smile and the younger wondered if she had been in the crowd that liked him at all his concerts so far.

With the sun slowly rising, maybe it really did seem like she was always by his side when he needed her and she was there to rescue him from the ruthlessness of his family into her own dragon fire.

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@vipervixxen , @thefangirlsblog , @rl-nancyholbrook , @reylatargaryen

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd season 2 #hotd fic #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #modern aemond #modern au #aemond targaryen x female reader

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