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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years ago

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Day 121: Record

"I found some weird box full of muggle stuff," Ron called, carrying said weird box out into the open living room that Hermione and Draco were working in since they had mandatory cleaning on Saturday mornings for everyone who lived in Grimmauld. "I don't even know what these are," he added, holding up flat, black circles with holes in the middle.

"They're records," Hermione replied, glancing up from the cabinet she was working on cleaning out. "They play music," she elaborated.

Ron made a face, "They're probably junk," he replied.

"What are?" Harry asked as he emerged from the creepy closet off of the kitchen, covered in spider webs.

"These records," Ron said, kicking the box with his toe.

"Oh," Harry said, making his way over, "Were they Sirius', do you reckon?"

"It says 'Lily Evans' on the side," Draco pointed out.

"Probably junk either way," Ron said.

Draco Malfoy had spent more than half of his life in love with Harry Potter. He might not have called it love when he was young but the older he got, the more clear it became that he had been a lovesick idiot for most of his life. He'd spent a lifetime memorizing every detail of that face. So he couldn't really be blamed for noticing the split second of hurt that flashed across Harry's face before he nodded, "Yeah. You're probably right. I'll just run them out to the bin."

"Let me," he said before he'd really formed a plan. "I've got all this to take out anyway," he said, gesturing to the box of junk that he'd weeded out this morning. "And we all know that Kreacher has less of a problem with it when I do it."

Harry gave him a little smile that Draco wondered if anyone believed was genuine. "Thanks," he said.

Draco levitated his box and the box of records and headed down toward the kitchen. When he was out of ear shot he murmured, "Kreacher," and the elf appeared.

"Yes, Master Draco?"

"Hi," he said, giving him a little nod, "Could you help me with something?"

"Anything!" he replied, nodding hard enough that his ears flapped.

"Could you hold onto this box for me?" he asked, gesturing to the box with the records.

"Of course," he said, immediately taking the box and disappearing.

Draco nodded in satisfaction and started plotting how he'd learn enough about records that he could help Harry use his mother's.

(Read more below the cut)

Two weeks later, on another Saturday morning cleaning day, he still hadn't made much progress. Luna had actually been the most helpful but he hadn't any idea where to find a record player.

But as luck would have it, one turned up in the library, tucked in a cabinet behind some very dusty potion vials and a rusted old cauldron. "Kreacher," he whispered.

When he appeared he held out the record player and asked him to keep it with the records.

He felt quite pleased with himself now that he'd found the record player; he was certain that he'd be able to play records for Harry in no time.

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It took a couple more weeks. Figuring out how to get electricity into the house was no easy feat (but it was easier once he found out that someone, Sirius he suspected, had done it before).

When Harry arrived home that evening, Draco dragged him into the living room, "Draco, what is going on?" he asked, laughing at him as he tried to get him to hurry up.

"I have something for you," he said, nudging him into the room and presenting the record player. "Ta da!"

"Err," Harry said, looking more closely at it, "What is it?"

"It's a record player," he said.

Harry's head whipped around so fast that it made Draco feel dizzy, "What?" he whispered.

"I found it," Draco said, "when I was cleaning in the library. And I thought you might," he shrugged and reached for the box of records, holding it out to Harry, "I thought you might want to listen to them."

The other man looked at him then down at the box in his hands, eyes wide as he reached out a trembling hand to brush his fingers over the spot where 'Lily Evans' was inscribed on the cardboard box. "You," he started before breaking off and covering his mouth with his hand. "I don't know what to say," he whispered.

His heart was full to bursting and he was pretty sure he'd never done anything as good as this in his life. "Would you like to listen to one?"

Harry looked up at him and nodded.

Carefully, he took out the record on the top and slipped it out of it's jacket, "Ella Fitzgerald," he said. "I've no idea who that is."

"Me either," Harry replied, coming closer to watch over Draco's shoulder as he set the record on the plate, turned the player on, and set the needle.

Music spilled forth entrancing them both, It's not the pale moon that excites me, that thrills and delights me, oh no, it's just the nearness of you.

"Wow," Harry murmured, watching the record spin. He turned to Draco, "I can't tell you what this means to me," he whispered. "Thank you."

He shrugged but couldn't quite keep the pleased smile from his face. "You're welcome."

Harry looked back at the record player before looking over at Draco again, "Do you want to sit and listen with me?"

He nodded, "I'd like that very much."

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It became something that the two of them did together fairly regularly after that. Sometimes they'd sit together and read while they listened to records, sometimes they'd talk while they listened, or catch up on work, or just listen together but it quickly became Draco's favorite pastime.

One Friday night while Ron and Hermione were out on a date, Ginny was away for a tournament, and Luna was working late, the two of them put on a record and ate dinner in the living room, continuing to drink wine while they talked and laughed long after their pasta was gone.

As the Bob Marley album, Exodus, came to an end, Draco stood up and made his way over to the box. "Etta James," he read, "At Last." He smiled and showed it to Harry, "look, she drew little hearts next to the song titles."

Harry smiled that melancholy sort of smile that made Draco ache inside. "Let's hear it, then."

Draco put it on for them and plopped back down on the floor in front of the sofa, his side mere inches away from Harry's, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off his body.

"I like this one," Harry sighed thirty seconds in as he leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. "Do you think they used to dance to this one?" he murmured wistfully.

Draco's heart clenched painfully as he was overwhelmed by the sense of loss that Harry must feel constantly. He had to take a slow deep breath before he responded. "Maybe," he whispered back.

The corner of Harry's mouth curled up in a soft smile, "I think they liked to dance," he murmured. "Hagrid gave me a picture of the two of them dancing together when I was at Hogwarts."

"Yeah?" he asked, hoping Harry would say more about that.

Harry nodded, "They looked really happy, you know?" he said. "Like they were the only two people in the world, like they weren't in the middle of a war," he sighed. "I like to imagine both of them dancing with me when I was a baby," he confessed in a whisper, "when I was crying or something. I like to imagine that the love that saved my life was tangible all the time, you know?" he murmured.

"I'm sure it was," Draco said softly.

He leaned over and rested his head on Draco's shoulder and Draco hardly dared to breathe. After a moment Harry said, "Would you dance with me?"

"Yes," he breathed immediately. "Yeah, of course I would."

"Yeah?" Harry asked, sitting up slightly to look at him.

Draco nodded and stood up, reaching for Harry's hand and tugging him up after him. He kept Harry left hand in his right and wrapped his left arm around Harry's shoulder, leaving space for Harry's right arm around his waist.

The other man hummed softly, drawing Draco in a little closer and closing his eyes as they swayed around the room. Draco couldn't stop staring; at the way Harry's eyelashes were long enough that they brushed his glasses, at the tiny nearly invisible freckles that dusted his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, at the barely visible wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, at his lovely full lips, and the way his stubble looked against his skin.

I love you he couldn't help but think, over and over like it was a personal mantra, like it was the only thing that could keep him alive; he ached with it, with the desire to hold him, to kiss him, to tell him what he really thought of him, to build a life with him, to give him everything that he deserved to have.

Harry's eyes blinked open as the song came to an end, his brows furrowing slightly as he brought his hand up to cup Draco's cheek, "Are you alright?" he asked softly, wiping a tear that had slipped out.

"Merlin, sorry," Draco said, taking a step back to wipe his eyes. "Sorry. It's just your life has been so unfair and when I think about you not really knowing your parents and having to live with your shitty relatives, and-" he choked on the tears.

"Hey," Harry murmured, pulling Draco back into his arms and rubbing his back, "Hey, it's alright."

"It's not alright," he managed.

"Well, no," Harry agreed, "I suppose it isn't. But it's all past now," he said. "Now I have my friends and I live with people who love me and whom I love," he carded his fingers through the hair at the base of Draco's neck. "Ron and Hermione, Luna and Ginny," he swallowed, "you."

"I just wish," he started before breaking off because finishing that sentence would be showing far too much of his hand.

Harry drew back slightly to look at him, "What?"

His eyes were so open, so earnest that Draco couldn't help himself. "I wish you'd let me love you the way you deserve to be loved."

The other man blinked, "What do you mean?"

"Promise me that nothing changes if you don't like what I have to say," he said, clenching his fingers in Harry's t-shirt.

"I promise. You're one of my best friends, Draco," he assured.

He took a deep breath, "I'm in love with you," he finally managed. "And I just want to love you, all the time. I want to hold your hand, and dance with you, and make you laugh, and surprise you. I want so many things for you-"

"Me too," Harry interrupted. "I'm in love with you, too, I mean."

"Really?" he whispered, hardly daring to believe it, his eyes welling up with tears again.

"Oh, love," Harry said with a little smile, wiping Draco's eyes with his thumbs, "Yes, really. Come here," he said, pulling him in closer and swaying to the music, letting Draco cling to him as they moved together.

As they continued to dance, Harry started to tell him all of the things that he dreamed about for the future together. Painting a picture of the beautiful life they could have and after a few minutes, Draco joined in, adding bits of his hopes as well.

They stayed up late into the night, talking and dreaming of the life they wanted to give each other. And every time they fought after that, one of them would get out the record player and they'd dance together and remind each other of the lives they wanted to build.

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Day 120: Tough | Day 122: Moon

#100 drabbles in 100 days #one year of drarry drabbles #drarry #drarry ficlets #drarry drabbles #fluff #pining #like a lot of pining #boys in love #love confessions #acts of love #this one got away from me #but I sort of love it #getting together #friends to lovers

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itsallyscorner · 4 years ago

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Being A Singer Who Is Part Of The Marvel Cast

Pairing: Marvel Cast x reader

Prompt: What it’s like to be a singer who is also a Marvel actress.

Warnings: none! This isn’t really a teen!reader, but it can be!

Side note: I’m using Ari’s music, so just pretend you’re Ari or something😂😂 Should I write imagines about this?

(Ya’ll already know I had to use my bby Ari😌)

(Gif from Pinterest)

Being a singer and joining the MCU was actually quite nerve wracking.

You weren’t sure if anyone would take you seriously and that everyone would just see you as some singer who got casted into the movie because you were well known.

In fact, Kevin Feige casted you because you represented the character you were auditioning for so well.

You remember your first day on set and how nervous you were to be surrounded by so many talented actors. You kept to yourself and sat by the sidelines while everyone reunited with each other.

I feel like Mark or Robert might come up to you first. They would probably approach you and be all like, “Hey! My kids listen to your music and I have to listen to your voice 24/7! It’s nice to finally meet you!”

Anthony would probably join in and be like, “Aye, I know you from the radio. You sing that one song that’s goes like, ‘I want it, I got it’. Right?”

After some introductions and filming scenes together, you’d feel comfortable with your new friends. Especially after some of them fangirled over you.

Tom (Holland) most definitely fangirled over you, I just feel it😂😂

A few years later they would become your most supportive and dedicated fans (and family).

They’re probably even more dedicated than your fans.

Whenever you drop a new single or a music video, expect them all to share it on every social media account they have.

Tom Hiddleston, who’s barely on social media, would come on just to promote your stuff.

@/ChrisEvans: Hey everyone! Just came to say that @yourtwitterhandle just dropped a new music video and you should all see it! You won’t regret it! Amazing as always @yourtwitterhandle 💙💙💙

@/RobertDowneyJr: The talented and oh so beautiful @yourtwitterhandle just released a music video for her new single! Go ahead and see for yourself to experience the greatness of (y/n)! I’m proud of you sweetheart!❤️

They would even share it on their Instagram stories and post about it because they’re so proud of you🥺

Sebastian and Tom (Holland) would probably post videos of them jamming to your song and yelling at people to listen to it.

Video: Sebastian with 34+35 blasting in the background, “GO LISTEN TO (Y/N)’S NEW ALBUM POSITIONS! DO IT! NOW!”

If you release an album while working on a Marvel movie, they would have little release parties with the whole cast and crew of the movie.

They will have a countdown on some projector and once it hits one everyone would scream and hug you. Then you guys would listen to the whole album with no stops.

When they see you writing in your journal during breaks on set, they would ask if you’re writing new songs.

Sometimes they would even help you brainstorm for lyrics or a concept for a song.

I feel like Evans would be really good at this because he’s good with words.

When they hear you humming something that doesn’t sound familiar they would ask you if it’s a new song.

Scarlett and Lizzie were always excited to hear your stuff.

“Oooo, is that a new song?”

“Come on, (y/n)! Can we get a little snippet please?”

“We promise to not leak it like last time!”

“Yeah! Neither Mark or Tom are here, you’re all good!”

Tom or Mark definitely leaked a few of your songs by accident. Not that they did it on purpose, they just recorded things at the wrong times.

When you sang they would always be quiet and just listen to your voice.

Whenever you hit a high note or sang something that was a bit sassy, there were always some reactions.

Chadwick would really listen to your stuff and just feel the music. When he’s done listening to a song, he would hug you and praise you on how good you did.

Anthony was always your hype man, whether you were singing or answering a question about your music, he will hype you up whenever he can.

“Mmm that’s right, sing it girl.”

“Damn, ya’ll heard that note?!”

“That’s right! Number 1 album in the world, baby. Get with it.”

“Ya’ll heard her right, five Grammy nominations. Gimme some.” He’d brag while fist bumping you.

Sometimes you would catch them singing one of your songs and you would feel all warm and giggly inside because it makes you happy that they enjoy your music.

When you guys aren’t filming and you’re off on tour, they would come to the shows that are in their city or whatever is nearest to them.

Sometimes you wouldn’t even expect them to be there and would be caught off guard while you’re singing.

For example, you were doing a show in New York and all of a sudden you see Paul Rudd just jamming to Thank U, Next in the pit.

“I know they say I move on too fast, but this one gon’ last. ‘Cause her name is— Paul?”

Whenever you guys are promoting new Marvel movies on morning/late night shows, you were always the musical guest.

They were always excited to see you perform. They loved to see you in your element because you always looked like you were having fun and so free. You always stunned them with your talent.

They could never wrap their heads around how you could sing and dance while having so much energy on stage, it truly boggled with their minds.

When they were asked about your music career, they would always say good things because it was true.

RDJ: “She’s just so talented. Like at such a young age, she’s accomplished so much! She’s writing music, releasing album after album, and on top of that she’s working on these films with us! I’m proud of her and proud to say that she’s part of this little family we have. We’re very blessed to have her.”

Brie Larson: “I wish I was like her at that age. I’m so proud of her, she’s a young woman just doing what she loves and not letting people stop her. I’m glad that young girls around the world have her to look up to. She’s going to do amazing things in the future.”

Evans: “Man, have you heard her new album? She really went all in on that one. You know, we’ve seen her grow up into the woman she is today, and you could hear that in her music. I’m glad that we got to experience that and have some kind of part in the legacy she’s building. I hope this means we get to have a musical now.”

Mackie: “That’s our little birdie. Yeah— we call her birdie cause she’s always singing or humming something. You could never have her or Evans together on set, they just burst out singing some random song and everything becomes a musical. No, but in all seriousness, she’s special. The talent she has, you can’t find that in everyone. She’s one in a million.”

They would be so proud of you when you finally win a Grammy or other awards for your music.

There would be videos of them reacting to the moment your name is called for awards like, Album of the Year or Artist of the Year.

When you guys have karaoke night, everyone would fight for you to be on their team.

You could’ve been your own team, but there was no fun in that.

You were like the last donut with red, white, and blue sprinkles (If you know where that’s from, I love u)

“Robert, she was on your team last time! You can’t have her twice!”

“Watch me, Evans.”

“Ayo! Hold up! Sebastian and I barely get to have (y/n) on our team!”

“You boys are childish! (Y/n)’s going to be on my team with Brie and Lizzie.”

Being part of the Marvel family was one of the many things you were grateful for in your career.

They gave you so much love and support as if they were your real family and you loved them all so much.

Even when their times with Marvel were done, they would still be there to support you no matter what, because they were your number one fans.

#marvel #mcu #avengers #chris evans #chris evans x reader #marvel cast x teen!reader #marvel cast x reader #avengers x reader #sebastian stan x reader #anthony mackie x reader #robert downey jr x reader #scarjo #Scarlett Johansson #robert downey jr #Anthony Mackie #Paul Rudd #Brie Larson #brie larson x reader #Scarlett Johansson x reader

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nextdoorharry · 3 years ago

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imaaaaagine a world like that..can you?

in which you and harry are exes, but still remain good friends when you’re always there for each other. both of you can’t help but reminisce…in your head.

a/n: super sorry i haven’t written in FOREVER!! been crazy busy with school (still am) and i will get back to the writing grind when i’m not as busy, with that being said this is just a quick thing i was thinking of. also, no hate to olivia and harry’s relationship at all. pr or not, both deserve respect and anything written in this piece is solely for writing purposes only. no hate will be tolerated toward an individual. we’re all human.

it happened when you were on your way home from dinner with your friends. a call from harry. this wasn’t out of the ordinary for harry to call you, being exes and all. you both apologized after the breakup and agreed that you both couldn’t let 5 years of love, being close with each other’s families, and a pet cat all go to waste. you agreed upon being friends with him. still hang out here and there after the breakup, acting all platonic. you can’t help but have a glimmer of hope its a call wanting to start a relationship again.

“hello?” you said, one hand on the wheel, other holding your phone.

“hi love, sorry s’a bit late, was wondering if i can come over. it’s about olivia.” harry says. still sending you butterflies when he said the simple yet warming term of endearment. but once he said olivia, your heart dropped.

she’s beautiful, confident, and makes your harry happy from what the tabloids portray. the last time you and harry spoke was before he went off to LA, filming for don’t worry darling, a movie his new lover produced. still a few texts since then like “happy birthday!” “congrats on the grammy,” or “how’s the cat?” you two always saved catching up for in person. it was just your thing you kept during the 5 year relationship and after. it keeps things more meaningful at the time, rather than texting or quick phone calls.

“ah, olivia. isn’t she my replacement?” you teased while laughing. you hear a burst of giggles from the other end of the line. god you missed hearing that everyday.

harry on the other end of the line, heart aches a bit hearing you say that. no one could ever replace you. ever. you are so special to him. if only it wasn’t for his team making it difficult for him to ease down on touring for a bit for you. you asked for one thing from harry, which was to start settling down. you both were only getting older and the talks of marriage and kids were frequently becoming the topic of discussion with family. a year and some after the breakup, which happened to be during quarantine, where he had so much time on his hands without you, he reflected on what could’ve been and how stupid he was for letting you go. you were always so patient with him. going to his shows, god awful dinner parties with industry people, changing your work schedule just to fit into his. you asked for one thing. and instead of fighting for you with his team, he instead sided with them, and let you go.

teasing not dying down, harry goes, “someone keeps up with me in the tabloids, eh?”

it’s the fact that he’s not wrong. you remember that tabloid very well. when the first pictures of harry and olivia came out in an article titled, “harry styles and olivia wilde new romance? is y/n replaced?”

your heart was hurting.

“of course i am. keep having to make sure my name is finally out their mouths.” you joke. “i’ll be home in about 15 minutes if that’s okay?”

you pull into the driveway already seeing harry sitting on your porch chair. he waves at you and you get out of the car, walking up to him. he stands up and greets you with a bear hug.

“missed you, y’look nice. where’d ya head out to?” he asked, hoping and praying you weren’t out on a date looking like that. he knows you only wear a red lip when its date night. his mind filled with jealousy at the thought of you with someone else. whereas he has no right being there are pictures of him kissing, cuddling, and whispering to olivia on a yacht in italy. all for the cameras. his stomach turns. that was supposed to be you and him. on a yacht on italy. except leaving the display of affection for the bedroom.

“on a date” you say blatantly.

his heart drops. and lets you go from the hug. lying through his teeth he says, “ah really? happy for ya, you have to tell me about it, hope it was with a good bloke.” he says lightly.

“i’m kiddingg, was out for dinner with friends. mel got engaged by the way! was celebratory dinner for her.” you say, unlocking the door, letting harry in.

harry sighs in relief. “that’s good! m’happy for her, pass on my congratulations.” harry follows you into your kitchen, sitting down on the counter stool, watching you making his favorite “calm down” drink, loving that you remembered how he likes it. he didn’t even have to ask you to make it. you just know its what he needs right now. he can’t help but ponder that it should have been you. it should be your friends out for your celebratory dinner for your engagement with him.

you pass him his tea, knowing he’ll only take a few sips of it yet keep it in his hold for warmth. you were on the other side of the counter across from him, making a mini cheeseboard you two can snack on while talking.

“so..what happened?” you ask, heart not ready if you can handle what he’s about to say about his new lover.

��s’just so complicated. originally it was supposed to be a pr stunt for the movie. but now i don’t know how the pr team messed up so badly but they did. no one is really believing it. everything was executed poorly. it sucks because it’s her team conducting everything which means i barely have a say in it. i look like the bad guy being portrayed as a home wrecker, and she’s not doing anything about it! s’like she’s enjoying it. the kissing, the night outs, etc. she knows that if my team did have a say, it would have been over a while ago.” he breathes out. he’s been wanting to rant to someone for so long about this. he also just wants you to know that he’s not into her. it’s all for show. he’s still all about you. he wants to make that crystal clear.

you nod your head listening to everything he’s saying. body feeling uneasy filled with jealousy when harry says she’s enjoying the intimacy they have to do for show.

“well, did you talk to her about it? or talk to jeff at least? there has to be something he can do..?” you ask.

harry sighs, “i’ve tried so hard. jeff said nothing they can do about it. and he’s telling me not to mess with olivia because her team can do more damage than good with my name. not that s’already ruined.” harry rubs his face with his hands, feeling stressed.

the way he’s acting is familiar to you. early on in your relationship, when you two were a freshly new couple, you guys wanted to be completely private. during that time, with harry and the band’s album coming out, his management made him do pr stunts like these. he was as stressed as he is now. you were so new to dating something in an industry. he didn’t want to scare you away. but you understood. you get it. and you still get it as he’s speaking.

“hmm..if i can recall, back when you had to do a stunt with kendall on the yacht, m’pretty sure it was the same situation. with kendall’s team being difficult, your’s not having much of a say. do what i told you back then, stand your ground, harry. tell olivia like you did with kendall. also kendall’s team at the time played dirty, yet they still were understanding with you and got someone new for a stunt. olivia’s team will probably get someone new as well. and how badly can they ruin your rep? everyone knows you’re the nicest person who wouldn’t kill a fly. and tabloids are tabloids. would you rather have a few bad headlines about you or would you rather deal with a stunt for what? another year now? that you feel uncomfortable with?” you state. smiling a bit because you know harry knows your right, he’s smiling a bit too. he knows you love being right and debating, pulling out facts. that’s what you always did during an argument. which is why you were always right.

man. why couldn’t he stand his ground with his team. why didn’t he take your advice back then? he should’ve sided with you. not his team. why is he always so scared of them?

self-loathing, harry breathes out a laugh, “always have to be right don’t ya? you know what to say every damn time,”

“what can i say? the lady is always right.” you say, smiling proudly while cleaning up the remains of the cheeseboard you and harry snacked on.

“thanks y/n, really, i know i can always come to you with this stuff,” harry states. looking at you with his piercing eyes, meaning every word he said.

you smiled and nodded, cleaning the kitchen a bit. it started to pour early on when you guys were having a chat about his situation, hoping silently it would come down faster so harry has an excuse to stay, you offer nonetheless. “why don’t you stay back for a bit, hm? s’pouring out there, only gonna get worse. we can watch something?”

“love island?” harry suggests.

“thought you’d never ask.”

few gasps and scoffs at some of the islanders and their drama later, you slowly were drifted off to sleep. harry, sitting on the other sofa from you, peaks to see if you’re still watching. his face was in awe. he misses this. domestic nights with you, chatting away eating in the kitchen, then watching something afterwards. only difference is that you two are on different sofas. whereas before you’d be coddled under his embrace. he slowly drifts off to sleep as well. rain still going on, technically he can still go home. driving in the rain was never an issue for him. but he’ll always use an excuse just to be with you.

iMessage: Olivia Wilde

1:34 AM - I miss you, and our casual hookups. Can’t stop thinking about it.

that was one part harry left out of the story. he hooked up with her.

ahhhhh!!!! lmk if you guys want a part 2!!!

#harry styles #harry #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry talk #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry concept #harry styles fic

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straighttohellbuddy · 4 years ago

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how the light gets in {Corpse Husband}

2. you’ve gone way too fast for way too long.

Summary: Supernatural Creatures AU. Them/Them Reader. After the success of your first stream, you find yourself wanting to get back to your YouTube roots, and what better way to do that than with a cover by one of the bands who holds a special place in your heart? And maybe you’re using it to distract yourself from thinking about how coming back to YouTube means coming back to the things - the people - you’d left behind.

Maybe it’s selfish, but Corpse kind of wishes you hadn’t come back to YouTube; honestly, if anyone else had taken the world by storm, he wouldn’t complain half as much, except it’s you and he’s still mostly convinced that you might be an angel like him... Except better. Because of course you would be a better angel, you’re talented and driven and personable and essentially everything an angel should be, and - bar the talented bit, Corpse at least knows some of his worth - you’re everything he’s pretty sure he’s not. Except it seems like everyone loves you, and he doesn’t exactly have a good enough reason to be bothered by you the way he is, so he has to act like he isn’t. Which is a lot easier said than done, when you barely say a word to him and it feels like all of his suspicions are confirmed.

A/N: 8471 words. Reader in the fic is stated to be 24. THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH SUPERNATURAL THE TV SERIES. me, trying to walk the line between 3rd person omniscient narrator and trying to make the narration feel like its somewhat coming from the POV character?? it’s more likely than you think! as always, i really appreciate feedback.

{ m a s t e r l i s t }

Taglist: @nanasort @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @theboywhocriedlupin @taikalinna @jaychirps @bingusmode @divine-artemis @realmejay @lovemelikepercy @balla-deer @miniritzcrackers @loraleiix @ppopty @easygoingtheatre @insanedeathwish @siriuslystupid @losvertown @janiathecat @wineandionysus @moonlightsimp @allylyew @chokingonflxwers @sicnesa @xxniksxx @mishisamess @preciousskye @yashinosakura @meleekabenjamin @whatamievendoinghere01 @lxurxn-02 @liljennyx3 @the-fusionist @benjaminka @lilysdaydreams @a-lonely-bic @letsloveimagines @melmachh @tama-chan-suneater @shio-yuki @fairywriter-oracle @easygoingtheatre @pixelbxtch @dreammoutlouddd @abysshaven @mediocrearistophanes @tsukishimawh0re @inkbyajm @jordiee95 @honkcorpse @kaiihaan @takenbyheartstrings @mrtony-stank1 @dangeroustreebread @xibrokensunriseix @corpseglider @artsyally @ellsbells2143 @machine-gun-casie @marvelsmurphy @bigmac-papi @danielle143 @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @starstruckllamapuppy @youretheonlyonewhomakesme @fee-btheweeb @parkerpeanuts @fanfictionenthusiast @evans-dejong @pancakebinnie @minbunbun @sabrinarahaman @thefangirl05 @jades-bullshit @fo-love @roses-and-grasses @thirstyfangirl @lovelysmp @325575 @wrongcielo @lukathecrime @lunariasilver @delicrieux @rebloogggs @kookiesandtae7 @mizxkii @effielumiere @happyyyandcrazyyy @teenageguitarist @prettylittlealiengirl @aroyalharknessblr @kylie-writes-stuff @annshit @haunteddeputymugpersona

taglist is always open! message me if you’d like to be added xx

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The day after your song drops, it’s on Spotify’s Top 50 Viral playlist, it’s charting on iTunes, it’s splattered across the internet, according to your manager, who sees fit to text you, congratulating you on what she assumed to be a masterful marketing tactic; releasing the song and immediately streaming alongside huge YouTube creators who have a wide and diverse fanbase, all plugging your music. She thinks it was a carefully calculated move, which makes you feel all kinds of scummy, like you were using your new friends. Thankfully, when you fire a somewhat defensive response about how you had no ulterior motive, that all you wanted to do was have fun and make friends, your tone apparently reads loud and clear, as you receive an apology a few moments later. Backtracking, she simply mentions that, even unintentionally, you had great timing, and she’s glad you had a good time, which is better, and you try not to dwell on your initial assumption. Years of your life had been spent worrying that the people you were close to just thought you were using them for views or fame; her words did little to quell that worry, so instead you tried to distract yourself, or at the very least, focus on the good that yesterday had brought about.

The best, of course, was Sykkuno, the hellhound who’d endeared himself to you almost immediately. Something about him makes you feel safe, though perhaps it’s that you’re unused to someone feeling so familiar; you like to think you’re a good judge of character, so for now, you’re trusting in your instincts, trusting in Sykkuno. The next best thing was a tie, between friends and freedom. Yesterday you’d been doing what you wanted to do, not what you thought you should be doing, not what was on brand, or carefully scripted; you were messy, stumbled over your words, and you laughed and deceived your friends as was the aim of the game, it was so freeing to be unfiltered. People kept saying it was nice to see you smile, to hear you laugh again. Huh. Part of you really doesn’t like that you know exactly what they mean, and more importantly, why people are saying that at all. But things are different now, are freer now; your brand was built on you, it’s nice to get back to that.

By mid-morning, you’d been sprawled out on your sofa for almost an hour, glad to be alone, to not have to worry about being seen, as you’ve phased your tail back into reality, and have it holding up your phone as you scroll through Twitter with one hand and fidget idly with the other. More and more you’re seeing supportive comments from people gushing about the few bars you’d sung of 5 Seconds of Summer’s Youngblood on stream yesterday. First your chat had loved it, now it seems the general consensus was that people would love for you to cover more than a few bars. While you tried not to listen too much to what other people wanted, you couldn’t help but admit that it was something you definitely wanted too.

When you text your manager, new idea already taking hold of your focus, your earlier unsavoury text conversation seemingly forgotten, your manager reminds you that you should be working on your new album, putting together the tracklist for your EP. Ugh.

It’s not that you didn’t have ideas, quite the opposite; you’re exploding with ideas, brimming, overflowing with them, for songs you wants to write and feelings you can’t express any other way, but the songs and collaborations you’ve already completed, their mp4 files sitting neatly on your desktop, you wanted to save them for the full album, like it was some sort of penance for getting to collaborate, getting to become friends with people you looked up to, people who inspired you. To you, their contribution was worthy of your full album.

Well, that was part of the reason, the other part was that the songs you had designated for the album had a different vibe to your EP songs; albumtouralbumtour and imposter syndrome had both been written in lockdown, about very specific concerns you were having at the time. The EP was shaping up to capture a very specific moment in time, while the album was so much more than that. You couldn’t put read at five am on the EP, the collaboration you’d done with Troye, a lyrical-lament with a dissonant, upbeat melody, an apology for when you’re the one who cuts off contact with someone you’re close to and don’t know how to say why, and don’t know how to come back; yes, the fact that you and Ethan are talking again means that the song is technically relevant to this period of time, but it’s three years of regret and indirect apology compressed into in three minutes. It’s going on the album.

But being stuck at home all day for months had made you all nostalgic for your roots, for when you’d started uploading all the way back in 2012, at 16, with no idea what a few videos would lead to. You missed covering songs you loved, the songs other people had written and that you had still connected with, the songs that made you want to write your own. Yes, you loved your own content, obviously, but from idea to video publishing, you knew a low-effort cover would take you maximum a day and a half if you were particularly inspired, which you clearly were. By now, you’d been doing this for so long that you knew the legality of it all like the back of your hand, and were in a stable enough place to be more than happy to pay royalties to the band you’d co-headlined alongside for your first international tour.

“What if I call the boys and ask them?” You decided to just call your manager directly, tail curled securely around your phone where you’d put her on speaker, pottering around your kitchen trying to find something to eat. Alison, on the other end of the line, sighed deeply, having been fielding these sorts of calls from you about once a fortnight since lockdown had started.

“Have you finished moment before impact yet?” She countered, and you wrinkle your nose; its as if she can hear the expression through the phone with the way she continues on, not giving you a moment to cut in, “listen, I won’t tell you what to do, but you need to make a decision about your EP tracklist soon, okay? The label’s breathing down my neck, you know you have more than enough songs for it.”

“Alison, the vibes -”

“The vibes, Y/N, I know,” she sighed deeply, but you could hear the faintest smile in her voice.

“I promise I’m working on my own stuff; I think moment before impact is gonna be a collab, but I’m not sure who with yet, but if it makes you happy, once I record this 5SOS thing, I’ll work on a demo of moment for the EP,” you concede, and you hear her hum in approval, “I promise I have all the songs in my head, I just gotta make sense of which ones are the right ones for now, you know?”

“I really don’t,” you could hear her actually smiling now, so you let yourself relax for a moment, hands braced on your kitchen counter as you looked to your phone, “but I suppose that’s why you’re the musical one and I’m the manager.”

“My favourite manager,” you told her sweetly, and her answering laugh is more of a snort.

"Call the band, maybe they can work something out for you regarding royalties, if you plan to monetise it," she suggested, and you hummed, "keep me updated, okay? Make sure you're still working on your own stuff though."

"Alison you're a national treasure," you tell her feelingly; you don't even have to see her to know she's rolling her eyes.

But you take her advice, sending 'what if I covered Youngblood and posted it to YT? I'll pay you royalties' to the mostly dormant WhatsApp group you have with 5 Seconds of Summer, despite it being about six in the morning in Australia. Callum sends back a thumbs up almost immediately. Its all the confirmation you need to get started.

As you’re hunting through your house for a pick, turning over cushions, looking through junk drawers, you hear your phone go off, and you take a moment to check, surprised by what you see. A message from Sean. Huh.

[I see you’ve finally decided to join us in the gaming community, took you long enough 😊 If you ever wanna play something, just gimme a yell, you know Id be glad to have ya on my team.]

Considering the fact that it had been three years since you and Sean had properly been in contact, you find the message both surprising, and strangely heartwarming. There were a few people you’d purposefully fallen out of contact with, plagued by your own fears and self doubts. The people who you’d seen in person almost daily were the ones who you’d felt the absence of the most, but Sean, just by his close association with those people, along with a few other international friends, had been regretfully left behind also. Here and now, you can feel just how much you’ve missed him, how guilty you feel for giving in to your own anxieties and the negativity spewed by others.

But you know you can’t dwell on the past, on your mistakes, all you can do is be grateful for the opportunity to reconnect, and take it.

[ID: A tweet and reply conversation between @yourtwitter and @goldeny/n, followed by a single tweet by @ZeRoyalViking, and a tweet and reply conversation between @yourtwitter, and @5SOS.

@yourtwitter: someone yell at me for doing another cover instead of my original stuff. quarantine got me feeling 17 again. might do the cinnamon challenge next. or finally do that Roast Yourself trend 4 years too late. | @golden_y/n: BRUH YOU BEST NOT BE PULLING OUR LEGS | @golden_y/n: I would empty my bank account to see you roast yourself. | @yourtwitter: Please Don't Do That YouTube Is Free | @golden_y/n: 😳💀💖

@ZeRoyalViking: stream today with some familiar and not so familiar faces!!

@yourtwitter posted an image of Griffin McElroy from the My Brother My Brother & Me TV show. Griffin is a Caucasian man wearing glasses and a blue checked shirt. He is visible from the chest up and is sitting behind a desk with one arm in front of him, with his thumb out, as if counting. The image’s subtitles have been edited, now reading ‘My friends are very much into the following: Bullying me on TikTok.’ | @yourtwitter: @luke5SOS is just mad im gonna sing his song better than him. he doesn’t use twitter anymore so i have the upper hand here. | @5SOS replies with a gif of Jason Momoa, who is incredibly muscular, with dark hair down to his shoulders, a black tank top, and sunglasses on, holding a microphone, standing in a confrontational manner, captioned ‘No, no, no. By all means, speak your mind. You got a problem with my boy?’ | @yourtwitter: HE WENT LIVE UNPROMPTED TO TELL PEOPLE ABOUT HOW I WROTE NOTIMETOSLEEP IN THREE DAYS WITH NO ACTUAL SLEEP, OPENED FOR THEM IN ARIZONA, AND IMMEDIATELY PASSED OUT FOR 16 HOURS AFTER WALKING OFF STAGE | @5SOS: we just miss you tho... and it is kind of funny. | @yourtwitter: the minute im allowed to safely leave lockdown im coming to australia to german supplex the lot of you. ❤️

End ID.]

Corpse’s whole ‘not thinking about you’ plan goes down a lot smoother when you’re not actively stealing his friends- what kind of Angel goes around stealing another person - another Angel’s, no less - friends?! Except, right, he doesn't actually have proof that you're an angel, just a hunch he’s apparently committed to... and, okay, you don't know you're stealing them... Sykkuno and Rae are allowed to have more than one friend. Obviously.

"Honestly, I'm still kind of riding the high from yesterday's stream," Sykkuno’s all kinds of elated in the voice chat, and Rae's quick to chime in, matching his tone, his energy, as she agrees.

"I cannot believe Y/N played with us! I’m sorry you missed it, Corpse, I think you'd love them," Rae is adamant, to which Corpse, from behind the safety of his monitor, makes a face.

"What makes you say that?” Even as he says it, as he tries to keep the negativity from his voice, his nose wrinkles, the expression shifting his eyepatch just a little.

“I don’t know, just something about...” Rae’s voice turns thoughtful as she considers, though Sykkuno takes the chance to pipe up, voice brimming with his trademark sincerity.

“You guys have weirdly similar vibes, like kind of a similar energy?” He tries to explain before a faintly embarrassed laugh escaping him, even with Rae humming in agreement, “not the exact same, obviously, but like, I don’t know, I think you’d really like them.” The problem with having Sykkuno for a friend is that he’s almost always trying to be genuinely kind or helpful. The problem is that Corpse can tell he believes what he’s saying.

An angelic ability that often goes overlooked, even by angels themselves, is the innate ability to tell whether or not someone’s lying. It’s like a faint buzzing, low grade tinnitus, at the sound of a lie, something that can actually be pretty effectively ignored and forgotten, but right now, the lack of buzzing with Sykkuno’s words is frankly irritating. Not that Corpse can say that, he has no real reason to be jealous of your fast forming friendships with his friends, well, not any reason he can admit to on stream.

"You know what,” Sean muses, finally joining the conversation, “It’s been a while since I properly spoke to them, but I totally get what you mean,” fucking great; of course he agrees, “did anyone invite them to play; would love to have them here if they’re up for it.”

"I think they're working on a thing today, but I can message and ask?" It’s Sykkuno who speaks up, the barest hesitation in his voice, and to that Rae makes a proud little noise in the back of her throat.

"You met yesterday on the stream that I organised, and suddenly you're all best buddies? Gonna be honest, I’m a little jealous,” she admits, to which Sykkuno huffs a soft laugh, uncertain of what to say, though Rae’s tone is fond and she continues on, “seriously though, good for you, dude, finally getting the recognition you deserve -"

And on the one hand, yes, Corpse would agree that Sykkuno deserved infinitely more recognition and praise than he currently received, but on the other, the speed at which you two had aparently become close - a day! It had been a day! - sets Corpse’s teeth on edge. It was all he could do to keep quiet as the others chimed in, all their sentiments mirroring Rae’s.

All this frustration and resentment was almost definitely unhealthy, he was more than aware, but something about you had fixed in his mind; if it had been anyone else, anyone less talented or personable or productive, he could have probably handled it, but you...

All he gets is two games worth of peace before Sykkuno announces that he’s gotten a reply. Aparently you’re in the middle of recording a cover. Something about knowing that fills Corpse with discomfort, with envy, like he should be working on his music instead of being here.

"But they say they're gonna take a break in an hour or say, so they might join us for a few games," Sykkuno’s tone betrayed his bright smile, and suddenly the voice chat was flooded with excitement from almost all in attendance.

"Wait, really? Just like that, we'll be playing with Y/N?" Leslie sounds disbelievingly hopeful, but thankfully it’s only a few moments until the next game beings. While none of the others had picked up on Corpse’s silence, his chat seemed confused. Purposefully ignoring their questions and comments on the matter, he instead gives a few comments on the game, trying to come off lighter than he was feeling.

He’s not quite sure what he’s going to do if you join the stream, he’d never actually considered that he might one day talk to you, have to confront the person whose very existence got under his skin, who might very well be the only other person like him on this side of the world. Unsurprisingly, his head’s not in the game.

"Did you get enough sleep last night?” Rae feels the need to ask when whatever response he’d given in a meeting had just come out as an incoherent mumble. Of course he straight up laughs at her question, which is answer enough, and she clicks her tongue disapprovingly, “you’re impossible.”

“Have you drunk any water today -?”

“Sykkuno you’re dead,” Sean interrupts Sykkuno, who had broken one of the main rules of the game simply to question Corpse about his health; he’s far too caring for his own good, but moments like this make for good entertainment, “dead people can’t talk,” Corpse is grateful for all of five seconds before Sean turns on him, reiterating Sykkuno’s question like a traitor; “Corpse, have you drunk water today?” In lieu of a proper response, Corpse groans, playing at being annoyed.

“I say we vote him out because if he is the imposter, we win, and if he isn’t, he has time to go drink a glass of water,” Rae proposes matter-of-factly, which just leaves Corpse spluttering with disbelief.

“That’s fucking stupid; I’m not the imposter, you’re basically throwing the game -” but the votes are already popping up, and unfortunately, for the first time all stream, everyone seems to be in agreement.

“Drink water, Corpse,” Rae, clearly the leader of this mutiny, orders, as Corpse watches his character get flung into lava, and very begrudgingly heeds her words. He takes his sweet time drinking a full glass of water and refilling it to take back with him, intermittently glaring from his kitchen at his computer, despite the game still going on; he’s got several tasks left, if they don’t catch the imposters, they’re doomed, and honestly he doesn’t care. Once the game ends, with the crewmates’ loss, as he’d suspected, they all find themselves back in the lobby. Maybe they’re waiting for him. They can wait longer.

As he settles himself back into his office chair, he pulls on his headphones in time to hear -

“- earlier than I thought because of a whole thing on TikTok and then Twitter, and then my manager texted me telling me-” It’s like he’s turned twenty again at the sound of your voice; you, bright, earnest, rambling to probably Sykkuno or Sean or Rae, probably not even aware of him, but he’s never been more aware of you. Not that he’d ever admit it to anyone, but your second EP, hyperfocus, had been in heavy rotation on his Spotify since he’d discovered it, since he’d listened to the crack in your voice, the exhaustion with which you spoke on i’m going through some stuff when Lofi had just been taking off as a genre. He’s... conflicted, going through an internal crisis while you keep talking, blissfully unaware, “- anyways, I think she’s just worried that I’ll end up threatening to German Supplex Harry Styles, or the late, great, Prince, and I’ll end up cancelled.”

“Y/N,” your name sounds equal parts amused and concerned as Sykkuno says it, with the air of someone who’s been privy to you and your antics far longer than just one day. The response you give is just as bright and cheery as your rambling had been, assuring him that you wouldn’t threaten to German Supplex Prince.

“You sure about that?” Sean was obviously grinning, judging by his fond tone, “sounds like something you’d try -”

“I’ve changed, Jack- Sean- fuck,” your muttered swear undercuts your attempt at earnestness after you correct yourself, clearly not used to calling him by his actual name. To that, Sean gives a fond chuckle, before going right back to ribbing you.

“I’m pretty sure there’s still video evidence of you trying to square up with Mark in person,” Sean points out, to which you grow huffy and defensive, playing up your frustration.

“Well, that was for a completely reasonable reason!”

“Which was?”

“I thought it would be funny,” tone flipping completely, the words come out so sincere and bright it’s almost tooth rotting; if he didn’t know any better, Corpse would probably find himself being endeared by it, “and it was! Plus,” though here you give pause, and something about the tone of the conversation shifts as you chew on the words you’d almost said without thinking, “it was funny,” you said, softer this time. Sean, sensing the shift, does his best to pick the mood back up, reminding you that both you and Mark lost the competition you’d been taking part in anyways, and asking if you really had changed.

Before you had time to answer, however, Rae spots Corpse’s avatar moving ever so slightly, and immediately jumps on him.

“Corpse! Did you drink water?” She asks. He unmutes so they can all hear his deep, beleaguered sigh. “I can and will bully you into taking care of yourself,” her heart’s in the right place, and it is mostly a bit, so he can’t be too put out by the fact that she cares.

“I can’t believe you all voted me out because of it,” he chooses to respond instead, and Rae’s cackle echoes through the voice call.

“She also was the imposter, so...” Ze trailed off, a little sheepishly, to which Corpse rolled his eyes, not that anyone can see. Of course she was. But he’s not even given a moments before -

“You must be Corpse!” The moment the words leave your lips, every single goddamn nerve in Corpse’s body feels like it’s alight; everything overwhelming, unfamiliar,. white-hot, he’s suddenly desperately trying to keep his various abilities in check, since he really doesn’t want to short out his whole system, end the stream early, and probably cause his building to go into a blackout, just because of whatever this is. The whole world has changed with four words; better and worse and more more than anything. It’s... it’s a confirmation of some kind, and he tries to hold onto that vindictive feeling in his chest. You are familiar, you are something he recognises like no-one else he’s ever met before; you are like him. Is it better or worse now he knows it’s the truth?

“Must I be?” He manages to respond, keeping his voice as level as he’s able, shooting for vaguely amused and trying not to let any of the past few seconds sudden overwhelming panic and triumph bleed into his voice. But the moment you hear him, there’s a sharp gasp; that same something, understanding, recognition he’d felt, you feel it too.

“Y/N, you okay?” Ze had asked, and you made a vaguely muffled noise of unconvincing confirmation. Out of sheer, idle curiosity, Corpse opened a new tab and searched up your YouTube channel where you were streaming.

“Maybe we should have warned ya’,” Sean offers with a light laugh, before lowering his voice, immitating and announcer as best as he could, “warning! Corpse is about to speak!” Which at the very least got Corpse to laugh, though he refused to give anything away as your stream loaded, and the banter continued in his ears.

“Har har,” you muttered sarcastically into the voice chat, right as the stream finished loading, and - you. Well dressed, face in your hands, heels of your palms pressed against your closed eyes; honestly, he doesn’t exactly have any prominent initial thoughts about you, watching you scrunch your face up in your hands, dealing with the same thing he had to, though your face was live to thousands. Beside you, the text chat for your stream was going almost too fast to read, but he managed to follow a few threads of thought here and there.

[an eye thing! they’ve got an eye thing!] [someone @ y/n_creature_spec on twt!!] [who has an eye thing??] [lmao love that they were so shocked hearing corpse that it set off their eye thing] [hello!! vampire here!! we have eye things!!] [u cant be a vampire it’s the middle of the day] [THERE ARE COUNTRIES OTHER THAN AMERICA YOU KNOW] [i am willing to put MONEY on the idea of them being fae of some kind.] [^^yeah they just didnt want us to see their eyes sparkling like an anime character.] [that feels like smthn corpse could bring out in people]

And then you’re blinking back to reality, bringing him from his thoughts as for one terrifying moment, it’s as if his gaze locks with yours. Expression so bright and inviting, despite the way your eyes were watering just a little, you hold eye contact with your camera for a moment before looking at your screen, mumbling something about an eyelash in your eye; Corpse lets out a shaky breath. Chat seems unconvinced, but at least the other streams take you on your word. For a few more moments, he quietly watches you, watches the way your eyes roam your screen as you order your thoughts, and for all that he’s thought of you, he’s never properly looked at you. It’s taken him until now to acknowledge that there was definitely a reason for your success beyond just your talent; certainly you could have become successful from your music alone, but your career certainly wasn’t hindered by the fact that you’re actually quite- suddenly, Corpse is overcome by the sense that he’s intruding, exiting out of the window immediately, even going so far as to push back from his desk, fingers spread wide, braced against the edge, trying not to think too hard about... any of it. If he thought too hard about what it meant to have another angel in LA, he would drive himself mad.

“Well, Corpse, it’s good to meet ya, been told great things,” to him and him alone it’s so clear you’re trying so hard to play it cool, though Corpse couldn’t fault you for that, doing the exact same thing; again, when you speak to him, it’s like his whole being is hit with a rush of warmth; it’s less overwhelming this time, somehow scalding but bearable now.

“I see Sykkuno’s been spreading lies about me,” Corpse fires off instinctually, to which Sykkuno splutters protests at the implication, despite your bright laughter, and Sean’s shout to the contrary.

“Don’t be mean, Corpse, Sykkuno would never lie about you,” Sean is adamant, and Corpse can tell he’s being honest, just as the tell-tale ringing in his ears knows the next words from Sean’s mouth are utter lies; “me on the other hand? Y/N whatever you do, do not listen to Corpse’s music, it’s just the worst.” Before the implication, the reality of what he’s saying sinks in, for just a moment, Corpse feels a rush of affection for Sean, so clearly and earnestly plugging his music, right before your voice re-joins the chat and Corpse remembers exactly who Sean is plugging his music to.

“Fuck you, J- Sean, I do what I want,” while you played along, amused and light, Corpse himself was at a loss for words. You ask him - him specifically, he knows, he knows with absolute certainty you’re asking him - if he’s a musician, and everyone else chimes in before he can even think about finding his voice.

“Don’t search him on Spotify! Don’t do it!” Sean, on the verge of laughter, seems delighted by the turn this conversation has taken as the sound of aggressive typing fills the chat from your end. What the fuck. What the fuck?! No matter his thoughts and opinions about you and your possible supernatural origins, you were still Y/N, literal Grammy winner and Golden Child from the Golden Age of YouTube, playing along as Sean used the world’s worst reverse psychology on you to get you to listen to his music. Oh fuck, this is not how today was meant to go.

“I don’t wanna hold up the game, I’ll listen as I play,” you tell them, almost painfully polite, though Ze agrees to start the next game. If Corpse’s mind wasn’t in the game before, there’s no way in hell it was now.

Three minutes into the first round and he’s failing miserably at card swipe when he chances a look at his chat; people were spamming lyrics from Miss YOU! and Cat Girls Are Ruining My Life! which was sweet but nerve wracking, since he’s pretty sure it means you’ve already listened to one and moved on to the next. If you’re an angel, and you know he’s an angel, what in the hell would you think of his music? Honestly, even if you weren’t an angel, you’re still you, and his music was... well...

When the first meeting is called, and it’s discovered that you’ve been murdered, there’s a strange sense of relief that comes with it, even as he’s being accused of your murder. He’s got a solid alibi, so they end up voting out Sean, and the game continues. Despite the brief reprieve from your possible judgement, his heart still feels as though it’s skittering erratically around his ribcage.

Rae comes along when he’s doing Simon Says, and shoots his little avatar. The moment he becomes a ghost, he lets out a long breath, giving himself a moment to relax, to collect his thoughts, catching back up with some questions with chat he hadn’t quite realised he’d been holding, and chances a look at his chat again.

“Of course I’m tense,” he finds himself musing quietly to his chat while the remaining players were arguing over the top of each other in a meeting, “pretty sure most of hyperfocus has been in my Spotify wrapped every year since it was released,” for a few moments, it doesn’t even occur to him what he’s said, or that he’s said it out loud, but when it hits him- oh, oh no, it feels like too much to admit, and he has no idea what to say next, how to backtrack, how to at least pretend like he doesn’t think about you or your music any more than any other person would. However much he may resent certain aspects of it, he still knows he has a reputation to uphold, and panic and denial have never been a part of his reputation.

So he keeps his mouth shut, bites down on the half-hearted excuses and explanations that keep springing to mind, keep pressing against his teeth. He does his tasks quietly, thanks the people donating, and pretend it never happened until the round ends, heart in his throat. He knows, the same way a human survivor in a zombie apocalypse movie knows, that he’s just putting off the inevitable, and that someone’s definitely already clipped it and is probably uploading it to Twitter or Tumblr faster than he could protest.

“Y/N I’m so sorry!” Sean’s the first one to talk when they’re back in the lobby, which leads to your laughter filling the voice chat, telling him it’s okay.

“I didn’t even care, honestly I was just vibing,” the smile in your voice is almost enough to distract from the strained edge to your words, something not quite right, but so faint Corpse isn’t sure if it was really there, and he’s not quite sure anyone else heard it either. Except -

“Y/N?” Sykkuno says your name like it means something that no-one but you and him can decipher, something concerned, almost a question, checking in without being too obvious.

“Yeah?” There’s that strained tone, just a little more audible this time, before you process who’s talking, how he’d said your name, and - “yeah,” firmer, calmer, a reassurance.

“Vibing?” And he says it like that was his question all along, like the two of you hadn’t had a full conversation in three words. When the others started asking about what you thought of the music, it’s clear none of them have picked up on the hint of strangeness that had been in your tone, and you deliberate before answering.

“Am I- is it- it’s weird if I quote it, isn’t it -?”

“Jacksepdicy how I whip that!” Sean practically yells into his microphone, cutting you off and somehow making the line sounding even more Irish than he himself did naturally, which startles a laugh from Corpse, “it’s my name in a song, I think about it daily,” he announces, voice oozing pride, and despite the situation and headspace he found himself in, Corpse feels his heart grow warm knowing that even a line like that had brought Sean joy.

“I thought,” you pause for a moment, presumably to double check which song you were about to reference, “I thought Miss YOU was a whole mood,” you admit, the faintest smile in your voice, and something tightens in Corpse’s chest at that.

“You not gonna quote it?” Rae teased.

“Too nervous to follow Sean,” you fired back.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get there one day, Y/N,” Sean laughs fondly, and you all joke around, playing up the bit, while Corpse’s mind is stuck on the fact that you never once addressed him when talking about his music. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, it meant he didn’t have to deal with the sudden, fiery sensation your voice brought with it, so not bothered, persay, if anything he’s glad to know you liked it... But it’s weird that he knows so acutely -

“Hey,” and you don’t even say his name, but there’s that feeling again. Each time it grows less intense, like he’s been inoculated, and no instead of his nerves being ablaze, it’s as if he’s suddenly sitting beside a bonfire, each and every time you speak to him. The others voice their confusion at your sudden vaguness, but Corpse answers without even thinking, because of course he knows.

“Yeah?”

A few moments pass, while the others carry on amongst themselves for the moment. The two of you sit in this one moment together, neither quite sure how to feel about it.

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” you point out, though there was only the barest him of the earlier strangeness in your voice, now overpowered by something that made it almost sound like you were pleased. At this, however, even more confusion arises when the others figure out that Corpse had ‘guessed’ correctly, that you’d been talking to him. But he can’t really hear them, or, well, he finds himself tuning them out, swallowing hard before he pushes to talk.

“Am I not allowed to enjoy the moment?” He asked, trying to ignore the weirdness of it all, keeping his tone light.

“I’m just surprised; it’s your music after all.”

“You like hearing my voice?” Despite the surprisingly cocky way with which he speaks, he regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, wincing internally. Of all the people he could have said that to...

“I never said that,” and though your own tone matched his, something teasing, something that could almost be misconstrued as flirty in the right circumstances, he’d heard the faint thread of discomfort, feeling it all too much himself. But your words, and thankfully your tone, was overshadowed by both Sykkuno and Sean jumping in to assure Corpse that they enjoyed hearing his voice.

“If you and Y/N ever collaborated, you know it’d break the internet, right?” Rae interjects, all kinds of smug and knowing, followed by a chorus of approving voices all broke out in unison as the rest of the lobby considered the possibility.

“Rae, you know our Twitter mentions are going to be going off for the next month now, don’t you?” You groaned.

“Maybe it’s a sign!” Rae exclaimed, delighted, before her tone turns teasing and fond, “and besides, aren’t your mentions always going off?”

[ID: The first four posts on Y/N’s Tumblr dashboard.

blueheart-anon hearing y/n and sean interact again after like 3 years unlocked memories like im a fucking sleeper agent. having war flashbacks to 2017′s ‘y/n is septiplier’s kid’ phase. how do i lock the memories up again im going to die of embarrassment why were we like that [tagged: #y/n #y/n y/l/n #jacksepticeye #sean mcloughlin #i WILL NOT add the ship tag i mentioned #blue talks] [7 notes] [▶️🗩↪️🖤]

fangloriousbastard ↪️fangloriousbastard fangloriousbastard Rae: Y/N & Corpse Collab When? Y/N: 🔪 - fangloriousbastard Y/N IMMEDIATELY MURDERING RAE AND THEN CORPSE I- - fangloriousbastard Y/N MUTTERING THE JACKSEPDICY LYRIC WHILE MURDERING HIM WTF IS HAPPENING?? - fangloriousbastard SYKKUNO NO BBY IM SO WORRIED - fangloriousbastard Y/N IM BEGGING U TO STOP SAYING CORPSE LYRICS BEFORE U KILL UR FRIENDS - fangloriousbastard WAIT WHAT Y/N AND SYKKUNO BOTH VOTING FOR THEMSELVES INSTEAD OF EACH OTHER - fangloriousbastard “ride or die guess im gonna die” y/N PLEASE U MET HIM YESTERDAY - fangloriousbastard y/n’s still listening to corpse’s music we love to see it - fangloriousbastard WAIT NO ZE KILLED SYKKUNO IN FRONT OF THEM AND THEY WON OMG SO MUCH IS HAPPENING DID THESE MOTHERFUCKERS QUOTE AN ACTUAL THE OFFICE MEME AT EACH OTHER - fangloriousbastard Y/N: YOU KILLED MY BOY Ze: you’ve known him A Day! Y/N: you don’t have all the facts Ze: which are? Y/N: I love him. Y/N: Not in a weird, shippy way tho, but like, come on, man, look at him! Sykkuno’s avatar: 🌱 👁👄👁 Sykkuno irl: 🥰 - fangloriousbastard ahem anyways corpse & y/n collab when? - y/n 🔪❤️ - fangloriousbastard 👁👄👁 - fangloriousbastard aren’t you supposed to be streaming?? [tagged: #HEWWO??? #among us lb #why do i only remember they’re following me when i post outrageously stupid content #btw y/n if u kill sean again i’ll cry] [43 notes] [▶️🗩↪️❤️]

fyahproof-y/n ↪️ selkiey/n selkiey/n y/n’s explicit ‘i love him but not in a weird shippy way’ is the LOUDEST fandom vague i’ve ever heard in my life [286 notes] [▶️🗩↪️❤️]

crpshsbnd ↪️ 221b-theres-a-bee crpshsbnd hope corpse is feeling okay he’s been kinda quiet this stream - 221b-theres-a-bee if someone suggested i make music with a grammy award winning artist i might be kind of quiet too - crpshsbnd asjdskldfjkdsf u right, still, hope that’s the reason. [tagged: #how do i always forget they won a grammy #actually i know why i keep forgetting #because every time i remember they won a grammy i remember the video where they jousted corndogs with joe sugg #and the winner had to deepthroat theirs for the camera #and y/n won but felt like an asshole for making joe deepthroat his corndog alone #and they ended up almost throwing up because they went too far with it #so hot #so talented #so very stupid sometimes] [3 notes] [▶️🗩↪️🖤]

Twitter is kind of a hellscape, Corpse decides, scrolling through his notifications as the stream’s winding down, seeing about a thousand different people tagging both you and him, asking for a collab, or seeing fit to show you both every single time one of you had mentioned the other in stream. Or had simply interacted. He’s not quite sure how to feel about hearing you mutter ‘make it rain, leave her wet, like a snowflake’. Unsurprisingly, a considerable few people had thought to clip the interaction where he’d apparently instinctively known you were talking to him, which he thoroughly regrets. There’s enough speculation about him online already, he doesn’t need people cluing into the fact that he might not be entirely human as well.

So now, he’s sitting idle in the lobby of the game as everyone’s thanking each other, discussing when they might get together to stream again; he’s quiet, disconnected from it all even though he knows he’s still live, he can’t help but stare at his phone, frown at your Twitter profile. You’re not following each other. A lot of his friends follow you, are mutuals with you, but you and he are not following each other, and he’s not sure if he’d like to change that. But it would make sense, right? It’s what’s expected.

Your pinned tweet is the single you released yesterday, which he still hasn’t listened to. The cover is cute; you’re - fuck. He refreshes the page. In the few moments since he’d clicked on your profile and now, you’d tweeted, thanking everyone for joining the stream, while you’re still in his ear, alongside everyone else, distinctly not addressing him. Maybe he should DM you, be upfront, ask about what you are, if his suspicions are true.

He hits the back button and goes back to scrolling through his mentions.

“Hey.” Your voice, soft and earnest despite that warmth that crackles through him; he’s half distracted, hand moving instinctively to push-to-talk, and -

“Yeah?” God fucking damn it. Not again. He’s really gotta stop answering on instinct just because he knows you’re talking to him. He hates that he knows.

“Good to meet you, Corpse,” and there was a strange sincerity in your voice, and he responds in kind, but his heart’s not in it. There’s too much on his mind, too conflicted in his heart to tell the truth; his own words makes his ears ring. He can’t even lie to himself.

So he says his goodbyes, waits for the lobby to clear out and chatters away to his stream about when he might be on next. Upon ending the stream, he immediately opens the latest email from his producer, his latest project glaring back at him from the screen.

Yes, his various ailments have his body aching, but the interactions he’s had with you are giving him a headache when he thinks too hard about them, and he feels woefully unproductive. Never Satisfied stares back at him, so close to being finished, mocking him. Scowling harder, he listens to what he has so far, making tweaks and notes, glad for the distraction, glad that his producer had as chaotic of a sleep schedule as he did. This was the home stretch; one more all-nighter and it would finally be done.

He texts Heartful that he’s getting to work.

It’s four in the morning when he finally stops for a break, his good eye starting to itch from staring at a screen for so long. With a yawn, he leans forward, out of his chair, groaning as he straightens up to a mostly standing position. Hands braced against the edge of his desk, he lets out a resigned sigh and wills his wings into existence. The weight of them curled up tight against his back, as was customary for them to be when non-corporeal, has him leaning a little further forward. Another yawn and he lets them uncurl, lets them stretch out behind him, knocking over an empty microphone stand as they went. He’d get that later. A grateful groan escapes him, it’s been far too long since he’d even had a half-assed stretch like this, wings helping to stretch all the aching muscles in his back that were simply impossible to stretch otherwise, no matter how much he’d twist. Even so, his studio wasn’t big enough to properly stretch them, and he really didn’t feel like laying on his living room floor right now; he’s kind of concerned he’d just fall asleep there. Instead, he kicks his chair to the side and hits shuffle on one of his Spotify playlists, doing what he can for himself in the limited space, and finally going to forage through his cupboards for something resembling a meal. Maybe drink water, Rae’s damn voice in his head.

At least with his wings around he didn’t need to bother turning on any lights; he’s gotta find joy in the little things.

Today, or well, the past twenty-four hours, was a series of cruel jokes, he decides, all leading to the moment he curls up his wings and sits back down at his desk. The moment he puts his headphones back on, he’s greeted by your voice, and he almost jumps a foot in the air, concerned that you’d called him.

"- who I became, dreading when the music stops, what if I just fade away?” In the split second he’s realised that it was just a song, just your voice, crooning, gentle and sad against a soft beat and the sound of rain, as i’m going through some stuff playing in his ears, it’s too late. Already his aura had gone off, and his computer cuts out, as his monitor cuts to darkness, so suddenly all he can see is his own, exhausted reflection in the monitor, backlit by his own wings... Not exactly flattering.

Thankfully, it was only his computer that was affected, as he can still hear his refrigerator humming in the other room, so he wedges himself beneath his desk to reset the breaker for the power board that his whole system was connected to, grumbling to himself the whole time.

If he was being honest, however, he was glad he didn’t have to hear more than a few seconds of your song. For a long time it had been one of his favourites, though at this point he’d rather die than admit that. Yes, it’s a good song, but it’s the last thing he needs to hear right now. If he listened to you voice half the fears he still tried to ignore, well right now it may kill him, and he was so close to being finished with Never Satisfied. So close.

Instead, he gives himself the moment in which his system is rebooting to scroll through Twitter and Instagram on his phone, checking his mentions for good fanart to appreciate, only to stumble across one of your stan accounts tagging both you and him in a clip that he hadn’t seen earlier. He’s not sure what possesses him to click it.

“Don’t follow me baby, swear I’m going to hell,” Corpse’s own words leave your lips as you’re focused on the game, on being imposter, leading Sykkuno into electrical to fix lights, and something about it sounds wrong and he can’t quite put his finger on it. He’d heard other lines of his leave your mouth, clips from the stream he’d been tagged in, and it always manages to surprise him. When you sing his songs, even just a little bit, something in the back of his mind, something that had appreciated you as an artist all this time, it’s grateful, it’s excited, it’s overwhelmed. He wouldn’t deny that part of himself, he couldn’t, it didn’t feel right, but upon hearing this line, that grateful part was overshadowed by a visceral bitterness.

The line had been a moment of self deprecation, the only Angel he knew of who, granted it was by some of his own choices, was almost certainly going to Hell, if you believe in that sort of thing of course. But you? Every single part of you seemed to be the exact antithesis to him; you’re what an Angel should be, and him? Well, the line said it all really. It’s just... it feels like you’re mocking him at every turn now that he knows, or well, strongly suspects. With evidence. Which you’re probably not; if you’re an Angel, you wouldn’t go out of your way to mock another angel, so now he’s all in his head, frustrated at himself for being frustrated at you for just... liking his song?

He really should message you about earlier, clear things up, get out of his own mind and stop jumping to conclusions. Finding another angel was big, no matter his personal reservations, he should try and take this opportunity, right? Except that you hadn’t reached out to him either.

Damn it; he knows he needs to stop thinking about you and focus on his own shit. He turns off his phone and gently tosses it to the floor, out of sight out of mind.

Maybe he’ll feel better when he finishes his song, feel more productive, feel... complete for just a few moments. Maybe he’d stop comparing himself to you. Maybe.

[ID: Two tweets, one from @sp00kybihh, and one from @yourtwitter, followed by a retweet and reply conversation between @ashton5sos, @yourtwitter, and @y/nirwin.

@sp00kybihh: why did y/n’s smile every time corpse just knew they were talking to him without them having to say anythign make me feel things?? u no we love day 1 ride-or-die y/nkunno, but corpse & y/n just seem to get each other wtf 🥺🥺

@yourtwitter: australians are asleep post forbidden youngblood cover

(Thumbnail of Y/N sitting in front of the camera, dressed casually, visible from the chest up. There is a black microphone on a stand in front of them that they’re holding. Their mouth is open, as if halfway through singing, their eyes are closed, their background is a simple, white wall. Above Y/N, in black, VCR font, is the word ‘youngblood’. There is a large play button in blue and white in the middle of the thumbnail, to indicate that it is a link to a video.

Link: youngblood - 5 seconds of summer | y/n y/l/n cover i miss my boys. i miss people. thank you 5sos for being cool about me covering this <3</i> twitter: @yourtwitter 🔗youtube.com)

@ashton5sos retweeted the link and commented: Y/N you said it was gonna be low effort, this is killer! All it’s missing is some drums. Reminds me, I’m still sad we never got to record that thing we wrote in New York. | @yourtwitter: ASHTON IT IS 8AM I HAVE HAD NO SLEEP AND WAS NOT EXPECTING SUCH A QUICK RESPONSE I WOULD DIE FOR YOU | @yourtwitter: also lmfao i forgot about that ny thing that was good, from what i remember. do u still have that recording of us?? i may or may not have forgotten everything about that night apart from it being a blast #bringbacknewyork | @ashton5sos: Calum has it but also its 2am and he’s asleep, which you should also do. You know the boys are gonna love this... #bringbacknewyork | @y/nirwin: thank u both i have decided to pass away effective immediately #bringbacknewyork

End ID.]

#corpse #corpse husband #corpse husband imagine #corpse imagine #corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #sykkuno #jacksepticeye #valkyrae #how the light gets in #shut ur pretty mouth #cyltlanp

305 notes · View notes

theonewiththefanfics · 4 years ago

Text

Because Hearts Get Broken - I Know That You’re Scared (Part 2/3)

Continuation of ‘Because Hearts Get Broken’ - see my masterlist for it :)

Synopsis: She’s trying to move on. He’s still hoping for a chance

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: angsty, bruh, but with a sprinkle of fluff and a hopeful (??) ending

Warnings: swearing, emotionally distant mindset... can’t think of anything else, really.

Word count: 3656

Heartbreak isn’t loud. Y/N doesn’t even know if it had a sound what it would be like. Like glass shattering against the ground? Or maybe like a book being ripped and shredded apart, memories of time spent together ruined. Or maybe it'd like the crackle of a fire, as it slowly but surely crept up and turned everything into charred remains before it became nothing but ash and was carried away by the winds.

No one in her family talked about feelings. If they did all they received back was ‘suck it up. That’s life’. After that, it was time to move on. So, when she got together with probably the most open-hearted person in the world, it was almost laughable.

Y/N had always been the friend others went for advice, relationship or not, but she herself never asked for one, simply because she didn’t wanna bother anyone. Not that she thought the others were bothers. It’s just having grown up in a household where emotions were basically suppressed, opening up was quite impossible.

Then came Harry. Perfect, impossible, loving, sweet, kind, ridiculously open Harry. God, she just wanted to punch him because no one should be that nice.

January 2nd, 2020 he’d called her up, having gotten Y/N’s number from Sarah (after ages of pleading, because as much as Sarah sometimes couldn’t handle drunk Y/N, she’d defend and protect her until the very last breath), and they set up a coffee date.

Slowly but surely, they spent more and more time together and seeing as her job had her based in LA for a while, visiting Harry was no problem. Then the pandemic hit, and on March 18th the whole stay-at-home order was issued in California.

Y/N was in a panic. She was meant to leave LA in ten days, and the hotel her company was paying for had been paid until the 28th. With all flights getting rapidly cancelled, she was scrambling to get one, but even her firm was unable to get her a seat. That’s when Harry had called up, his tone a worried, urgent mess as to if Y/N was alright and what her plans were.

Of course, him being him, he immediately offered her a place to stay.

“We don’t even need to stay in the same room, there’s like five other guest rooms you can take up,” he tried to joke, and ease her tension.

“Fuck, Harry, just rub it in how rich you are.” Y/N cackled, and when she heard him laugh in the background, her heart did that stupid fluttery thing she’d grown so used to.

It took a little persuasion from Harry’s side, and reassurance at least seven more times, that Y/N wouldn’t be intruding on his space, and he was more than happy to spend the quarantine with someone else, instead of being alone, and that in no way her taking over a room or two would limit him and his own artistic endeavours. So, apprehensively Y/N packed her suitcases, grabbed an uber, wearing a mask the whole time, and drove to Harry’s place.

When Y/N saw the gated community and the palace he was living in, the inside of her cheek was practically bitten in half. They’d barely been together for three months, and now she was basically moving in with him, but given how it was either live with Harry in a fucking mansion or walk across the country to New York, she took the first option.

As much as Harry loved on her, pretty much shagging her brains out every possible second, and loving on her until her cheeks hurt from smiling, the anxiety about the whole situation never left.

Harry was worried about his mom and sister, Y/N was scared of what was happening in New York. So, when the state boarders opened, immediately, although reluctantly, she flew back to her apartment and her dying plants, but never forgetting to FaceTime with Harry. But they couldn't stay away long from one another.

Which is why they decided, given how she was able to work from home now, and Harry could do so as well, they’d fly over to one another every two weeks, quarantine together for the next two weeks, and then fly to the other place. Her boss actually loved the idea that Y/N was so willing to go back and forth between the two cities, so all her flights were written off as business expenses, not to mention when she said she wouldn’t need a hotel, he was more than thrilled to let her be in LA whenever she wanted, as long as her work got done.

It seemed funny to her now, that before Y/N couldn’t wait to get back to the sunny state of Cali. Now when she had to fly over (which was just a couple of times since the breakup), going through JFK security made her sweat, and landing was a vomit-inducing action. And the last time she’d gotten back to the home-base state, she’d actually thrown up, Harry’s last words ringing in her ears.

It’d been three weeks since Sarah’s New Year party, and three weeks since she’d spoken to him although he still kept calling. Every morning she’d wake up to a couple of notifications of missed calls, and each time she’d listen to the messages; it was all the same – I miss your voice. And every time she’d listen to it, her thoughts were exactly the same. You could say it was almost pathetic as to how many times she’d listened to his albums, just to hear him sing. Almost like he used to do right before she fell asleep.

But Y/N had no one else but herself to blame for it. She’d been the one to call it quits, she’d been the one who walked out of his apartment, and the one who decided she wouldn’t fight.

Now, she was sat by her small magazine table, documents spread out in front of her as if a tornado had rolled through, while an apple and cinnamon candle spread its delicious scent through the air.

Y/N would only admit it once because, well, the proof was all over the apartment, but she was very lazy when it came to taking away the Christmas décor. It made her feel warm and comfy. And it reminded her of Harry. How when she’d woken up after their first date, already in the new year, he still had colourful fairy lights strung across the curtain rods, giving everything a soft, cosy glow.

He’d also been the one who convinced her that a real Christmas tree was so much better than a plastic one.

“Yes, it’s a hassle,” he’d said through slurred words as they’d slinked away from the partying crowd after the countdown was done, and each of them had taken three shots of vodka. “But it’s so worth it. Smells like a fucking forest in your room. Like proper Christmas!”

And although she’d spent this holiday season alone, Harry had been right. Just like he’d been right about Y/N.

She tapped her pen against the glass surface and readjusted her position on the floor.

“This is the periodic table, noble gases stable, halogens and alkali react aggressively,” Y/N hummed as she highlighted the incorrect parts of the paper in front of her. “Each period will see new outer shells, while electrons are added moving to the right.”

Just as she was about to start off the second verse, her doorbell rang, and her stomach gurgled in response.

“Ugh,” she groaned to herself. “Pasta come to fuckin’ mama.”

But when she opened the door, she wasn’t greeted by the Uber Eats delivery man.

“Harry.”

Y/N was taken aback. She didn’t expect him to visit her, especially not so soon and especially to fly out to New York (as much as he was most likely there to do other stuff as well, her gut told her he was there for her).

Sure, she hoped that one day they could be friends, if not acquaintances, he was too important of a person for her to lose completely from her life, but that was looking like five years into the future.

“I bring gifts.” He raised his hand where her boxes of food hung in a paper bag. “Can I?”

“Uh, yeah, of course!” She shook her head to clear it from the shock and allowed Harry to enter into the warmth of her apartment and escape from the cold January air.

“I was on my way up when the delivery man came in, and I recognised by the boxes it was yours.” The smirk on Harry’s face was something Y/N loved to see, but usually, she liked to also wipe it away. Preferably with her own lips.

She let out a small scoff, not waiting to see if he followed inside, as she scurried to the adjacent kitchen and grabbed two plates, while he opened up the white cardboard containers and allowed the delicious smell of spaghetti Bolognese as well as a carbonara waft into the air. Y/N had wanted to eat the latter at some point during the night when the munchies hit, but she supposed Harry was probably hungry as well. “Maybe there’s someone else here, who likes Italian.”

“Probably, but only you would order from the shittiest Italian restaurant just because they have pesto and parmesan bread.”

“Hey!” She slapped his arm. “They’re not shit. They provide me with everything I need – calories, carbs and bread.”

“What more does a person need?”

“Exactly!”

Both of them let out small chuckles and then settled down on her couch to dig into the meal. They ate in silence, and despite Y/N’s initial shock, it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, they were sitting pretty much shoulder to shoulder, as she watched Harry re-read the spread-out articles on the table and use her marker to tick some stuff that could use re-wording. He had a knack for words, after all.

“I uh…” He wiped his mouth with one of the napkins provided by the diner before clasping his fingers together and looking at the woman sitting next to him, as she slowly set her empty plate on the small cupboard beside the sofa. “I was hoping we could talk.”

Y/N hung her head. She should’ve known he wasn’t here to just check-in and have some dinner. “We already did. Twice might I add. What makes you think this time the ending will be different?”

“Third times the charm?” Harry let out a little laugh, and she rolled her eyes. “Look, I didn’t wanna leave everything the way I did. I – I said some pretty shit things.”

Y/N fiddled with her thumb. ‘I had,’ Harry’s words echoed in her head. ‘Only she didn’t trust that I loved her the same.’ “Nothing that was untrue though.”

“See, that’s where I think both of us are wrong.”

That was not what Y/N thought this conversation would be whatsoever.

“I – “ He cleared his throat. “I know I said I didn’t think you trusted me that I loved you enough. I think you know I did – do.”

If Y/N still had any food in her mouth she would’ve choked on it, as she bit back the rising lump in her throat, but instead of interrupting him, she let Harry continue. “And honestly, it’s not your fault that it fell apart, ‘s my fault too. I pushed you to do something, you didn’t want to, weren’t comfortable with, when you told me not to… just because I wanted to feel important, ‘nd because I wanted to get a role in your life you weren’t ready for yet. And I’m sorry for doing that. I should’ve never forced you.”

“Harry…” Y/N was at a complete loss. “I – I don’t really know what to say.”

He took her left hand in his and clasped it, finally able to properly say what'd been eating away at him. “During the New Year party, I didn’t go about it the right way. I was just – I was just still so hurt, and I wanted you to hurt the same because… it didn’t seem like you cared at all, which I know you did… I know you loved me, and…” He took in a deep breath. “I hope that you still do. At least enough to give us another chance. We can take it at your pace,” he instantly added, knowing how she’d react, expecting the sigh and the almost tired and resigned ‘Harry’ that escaped her lips. But he’d say everything on his mind. “You can take how long you need to feel like you can trust me with what’s bothering you.”

“Harry,” she repeated, but it didn’t seem like he was about to stop.

“But I think we can do it, and we can do it right this time. We know where we stand, we won't make the same mistakes.”

Y/N’s hand came to rest against his cheek, and he practically melted, engulfing her palm with his as to not let her touch leave his skin for even a second. “Are you even listening to yourself?”

“Look, I know, you’re scared, and the thing is, so am I. I don’t want it to end like that or end. Period. But I do want to try again.”

And if nothing but to humour him Y/N asked, “And if it does end the same way?”

“It won’t.” He was so sure of it, she had to laugh.

“Harry, the big difference between us is – you like to talk about your feelings. You like to go through them and stuff. I don’t. I feel… icky when I even think about talking to someone of what I feel. We’re just too opposite.”

“Opposites attract.”

“No,” she pointed a finger at him, stifling her laughter, though Harry seemed not to be hiding his smile. “Do not use science against me.”

He raised his hands as if in surrender. “I’m not, I’m just supporting my point with facts. Scientific facts, that you can’t argue against.”

“I mean…” Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “I dunno… Maybe it was a good thing we ended it when we did. It was ten months – almost ten – amazing months, but… can you imagine if we’d gone so far as to think about moving in together, and then it fell apart? That would’ve been a whole different kind of a mess.”

“Do you love me?”

Y/N sighed, resting her cheek against the couch while she smoothed away his brown locks from his face. “Of course, I do. Don’t think there will be a time in my life I don’t.”

“Then that’s all I need.”

“Is that really enough for you?”

“Yes.”

And there was no lie in that single word. Did he want for Y/N to feel comfortable enough with him that she talked about whatever concerned her, however small? Of course. But he also wanted her to be comfortable enough to be herself. If that meant her keeping things to herself, and trusting Harry to support her decisions, it’d be enough.

Her Y/E/C eyes hadn’t left his green ones, and they only widened as he leaned forwards and pressed his forehead to hers.

“Haz…”

Fuck, how he’d missed her calling him that. It wasn’t an exclusive nickname by any means, but when it came from Y/N’s mouth, it was the sweetest sound in the universe.

He was her Haz when he broke a plate, he was her Haz when she threw her head back as pleasure exploded through her body, he was her Haz when he took her hand in his to quell her anxiety, and he was her Haz when he gave her tissues as they watched a movie, and she couldn’t help but cry each time a dog or cat died (or a dragon, but he was a sobbing mess as well because ‘Dragonheart’ messed with them both).

His lips were so close, and just as they skimmed over her own, Y/N’s phone rang making her physically spring back, eyes like saucers.

“S – Sorry,” she stammered, scrambling to find the annoying device between the cushions. It was Sarah’s name that lit up her screen.

“Hey, what’s up?” Y/N started, voice trembling and shaky. God, when had she suddenly gone so out of breath? And why was her head so dizzy, as if she’d just gotten off a rollercoaster?

“Yeah, he’s here,” she replied, eyeing Harry. “Yeah, just a sec,” and Y/N handed him her phone with a quiet ‘why’s your phone always dead?’

‘Didn’t know it died’, he said, but that was untrue. He’d turned it off so this sort of a situation wouldn’t happen; so a call or text wouldn’t interrupt him at the most critical moment. He had to give the universe a proper talk once he was done.

“ ‘Ello?”

Seconds of silence passed, and Y/N didn’t like how weird it was, so she took the empty plates and put them in the sink to soak.

“Now?”

She could see the frustration rise in Harry as his forehead creased, and he let a hand rake through his hair. “Fuck’s sake… yeah, I’ll be there in ten. ‘S alright,” he sighed. “Not your fault Sarah. Tell Jeff not to worry, and that I’m not dead.”

With that, he pressed the red button and ended the call, drumming his fingers against the screen. God, he really didn’t want to leave. Not now. Not after he’d been so close.

“Uh, work?” Y/N asked, arms crossed in front of her as if she was protecting herself from the answer.

“Yeah, sorry. I uh a meeting from tomorrow got rescheduled for tonight, like right now because there was some sort of an emergency from the label’s side."

“ ‘S alright, I get it. Showbiz never stops.” Y/N motioned to the door. “I’ll walk you out.”

There were a couple of times in his life Harry wanted to give himself a beating. Once when he was six and Gemma had told on him after he’d broken a favourite vase of their mothers, he decided to get revenge and destroy her favourite plushie. He’d never forget the tears Gem had cried, and how absolutely heartbroken she’d sounded. He vowed although he was the little brother, to never ever let anyone hurt her like that, and if someone did, they’d meet their maker sooner rather than later.

The second time was when he was still a teenager, One Direction on the rise, and it had gotten to his head just a little bit more than it should’ve. He’d gotten really messed up at a party (which Harry shouldn’t have even been at). The disappointment on his mother’s face as she scolded him through FaceTime was gut-wrenching enough to make him promise to always know the limit.

And Harry guessed this was the third time.

He could’ve said no to the meeting. Jeff was there and so was Sarah and Mitch. The three of them could handle it for him. It’s not like he would mind much whatever they came up with if it had given him the time to settle things with Y/N.

“It was great to see you, Harry.” She brought him out from the thoughts as she unlocked the door and opened it for him, bringing her jumper sleeves over her palms to hide from the cold outside air. “Really. I – I missed you, and honestly, I’m glad we got to talk. I uh well, take care. And say hi to Sarah from me please.”

“I – “ he took hold of Y/N’s wrist before she could turn away. “I’m holding a small concert in a week. Here in uh in New York. It’s for charity… I want you to come.”

“I umm… I’ll have to check if I’m free, but yeah. I will. Thank you.”

“ ‘S no problem… Sarah missed you like crazy now that you’re not in LA as often… ‘n yeah. Anyway. I’ll put your name on the guest list, so just bring some ID, and they’ll let you backstage.”

“Okay,” she whispered and gave him a small, genuine smile. “Thank you. I’ll really try to come.”

“Yeah.”

And he was going to go without doing anything else. Harry truly was. But as he released her wrist, going to the stairs, he gave Y/N one last glance back, and it was like his feet had a mind of their own, as they carried him back to where she stood by the still open door, grabbed her by the waist and pressed his lips to hers.

He expected Y/N to push him away, but to his very huge delight, she didn’t. Instead, her fingers wove through his hair and her legs almost on instinct rose so he could take her by the thighs, wrap them around his middle and press her against the doorway.

The groan that Harry swallowed from Y/N only ignited the fire that’d been burning ever since he met her, but it wasn’t the destructive kind, like the ones that leave nothing but charcoal behind. It was warm. Safe. Like the light of a fairy light. Like the embrace of home.

“Come to the show,” he muttered against Y/N’s lips, as they broke apart, and he set her down on the ground, not letting go until he was sure she was steady on her feet. “I’ll wait for you.”

With that, he left because if he didn’t, he’d make sure Y/N would be unable to walk for a week.

And Y/N watched him retreat while her brain fought with her heart.

What was it he’d sung in ‘Golden’, as he’d twirled her in the sea of bodies and glitter a little bit more than a year ago? ‘Loving is the antidote?’

Maybe love was the antidote to her fear.

She closed the door.

And smiled.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15 @breezykpop @girlboss99 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist @alliyjane @sirtommyholland

A/N: I’ve been listening to ‘Fine Line’, ‘The Periodic Table Song’, ‘Welcome to the Christmas Parade’ (Welcome to the Black Parade mix with All I Want For Christmas) and ‘Rasputin’ Boney M remix exclusively... I feel like a complete crackhead... :D

Decided to tag also those who wanted a part 2 but didn’t necessarily ask to be tagged :)

P.S. I guess there will be a part 3???

P.S.S. if you wanna be added to a tag list drop me a message :)

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fandom #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x you #golden #fine line #one direction #one direction imagine #1d #1d fan fiction #harry styles angst #harry styles and y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles and you #harry styles and reader

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oftenderweapons · 4 years ago

Text

Steamy Waters — Yoongi

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (nicknamed Kitten), Namjoon x Vixen (mentioned)

Wordcount: 8.7k words

Genre: smut, a tinyyyyy bit of angst, pwp, established relationship, idol!au

Rating: very18+

Hello strawberries! With Namjoon’s Steamy Waters we saw the guys leaving for tour, with Yoongi we see them come back. Of course there will be a few things happening in between the two fics, but that will come later (see it as some special piece similar in terms of genre to Girls’ Night). Quick recap of the plot: Yoongi comes back from tour and Kitten is there to greet him. It has been a long day, and a he’s been away for a long time: the two decide to head to the shower to help Yoongi get rid of his travelling filth and help Kitten get rid of her bitter feelings. (AKA that one time Yoongi finally convinced Kitten to move in with a very unorthodox method.)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: filth. Swearing. Sarcasm. Dirty Talking. Slight angst (Yoongi’s shoulder is sore; Kitten finds condoms in his travel bag and she is afraid of cheating, even though she knows Yoongi is 3000% faithful, past relationship trauma). Shower blowjob, cum swallowing, cock worship and breast worship, lots of ass grabbing (both male and female receiving); again, Yoongi wakes her up with oral which is something he does a lot but still, it’s non explicitly consensual since she’s sleeping, he asks for consent as soon as she wakes up. Unprotected sex within an established relationship (GET TESTED BEFORE GOING BARE WITH YOUR PARTNER. PLEASE. USE CONDOMS UNLESS YOU’RE 1000% SURE YOU’RE CLEAN). Spooning sex, fingering, he uses his fingers as a gag. Multiple rounds and very multiple orgasms and squirting. Mentions of a cocksleeve. Mentions of anal sex; mild anal play (female receiving), mentions of rimming (female receiving). Use of a G-spot vibrator with remote control via smartphone, squirting, cunnilingus and face riding, crying, slight degradation, use of safeword, old school missionary jackhammering, choking kink. On a side note, reader is bisexual and everybody has a crush for Vixen

If you want background music for reading I suggest playing the whole About Time album by Sabrina Claudio or Over It (complete set) album by Summer Walker. [Thank me later 😉]

Finally, here is my masterlist and well, Enjoy!!! ✨💜

———————————

You stood in the middle of the underground parking lot of Yoongi’s apartment, waiting for his van to arrive from the airport. Today he was back from the tour and you’d taken a few days off work to spend time with him.

You stood there, checking some emails on your phone when the doors of the lift opened on a dolled up Vixen.

You had seen her wear black, blue and white quite consistently, head to toe impeccable at all times. That’s why you had to do a double take when you saw her in a pink, frilly, tiny sundress that looked like it could unravel if you stared at it for too long.

“Am I late?” She asked, only to stare at you and realise that if you were there waiting, then no, they hadn’t arrived yet. “Sorry, dumb question, I’m just excited.” She smiled nervously, fixing non-existent creases on her dress.

“There’s a bit of traffic. They’ll be here in a minute, though.” You explained, putting down your phone. “Plans for a date?” You asked her, looking at her outfit.

“No, actually. I just wanted to dress pretty.” She said, elegant and sweet as usual.

You smiled and looked at your oversized, worn-out T-shirt from a rockband you listened to when you were a teen, and the loose cotton shorts that reached your mid-thigh, paired with casual flip flops. You weren’t even wearing your nice bra. Not that Yoongi would care about that once he took your shirt off. Bras were just a nuisance to him anyway.

“Are you on vacation?” She asked, checking her phone before locking it again. It lit up again with a notification, her lockscreen showing a picture of a boy staring at a sculpture. No doubt, Namjoon.

“No, just took a few days off.” You replied kindly. You checked your phone yourself. “You and Joon are going on holiday?”

“Just a quick getaway.” She explained, beaming at you. She looked radiant, as if the last seven weeks had never existed. But her face looked slimmer. Her arms too. You had often met at the gym, spending time together and working out, ‘to stop thinking’ she had said. And you had bonded like that, over working out to stop your brains and dull your edges while your boyfriends were away.

You tried not to think if Namjoon was going to propose while they were away. Yoongi had mentioned the man was considering the idea. “Then have a safe journey and a nice holiday.” You said, grinning. “Hope you can get your fill of him.” You said smirking.

She caught the innuendo mischievously. “Trust me, I will.” She replied before winking.

The bar to the parking lot lifted, before a black van entered the space, stopping a few slots away from you.

Vixen was basically skipping on her toes, ready to throw herself at her boyfriend. Beside her, you felt like a flock of hummingbirds had been caged inside your chest, the fluttering feeling almost uncomfortable. When you heard the doors open, your ears stopped working, blood pressure making them perceive nothing but a dull beeping sound.

Namjoon appeared from the door, Vixen dashing to him and throwing her whole body into his arms as he picked her up. The whole scene was very romantic and dramatic — just in their style —, almost making you sneer in a mysanthropistic fit, however the smaller figure appearing behind the lovey dovey couple made you reconsider your hatred towards humanity.

Let’s be clear, you weren’t normally this sour, but seven weeks without Yoongi had taken their toll, and all you wanted was to incinerate every couple until he had had his sweet way with you and you weren’t underloved and underorgasmed anymore.

“No dramatic welcome back for me?” He asked, staring at you from the distance with his hands on his hips. “No balloons and banners?” He shook his head. “You’re a disappointment.” He grinned at you.

“You’re sucking your own dick tonight.” You teased back, Namjoon and Vixen too caught up in their idyllium to bother with your bantering.

He shrugged. “Thank you for letting me know.” He opened his arms and you walked towards him, hugging him tight as he did just the same, your arms around his neck as he placed his hands on your waist and pulled you to him. “Hi, Kitten.”

“Hello, Yoongles.” You said, your voice emotional.

“I’m sorry, I smell a bit.” He said, thinking about all those hours on the plane.

“Not really.” You said, nuzzling into his neck, reacquainting with his cologne. “You’re as good as usual.”

His hands rubbed up and down your spine. “Let’s go upstairs. It’s too hot outside today and I could kill for a shower right now.”

The back of the van was already open as Namjoon took out the suitcases.

“Hyung. Here is yours.” He said, letting it roll towards Yoongi.

He thanked and caught it, sprawling his left hand over the top of it before catching the handle. Your eyes went wide as you stared at the tendons and veins just below the pale skin, jumping and flexing at the effort.

You had missed those hands. Dearly. Deliriously.

As he noticed your focused stare, he smirked, his other hand searching for your fingers, intertwining them with his. “I have my backpack too. Careful, there’s equipment inside.” Said Yoongi, pulling at your arm as he neared the back of the van and grabbed his stuff.

“Let me get that.” You said, fussing over him. He looked tired and thin. “How’s your shoulder?”

“Not too bad.” He said. “A bit crumpled up because of the long trip and the air conditioning, but overall not bad.” He let you take the backpack though, showing you that yes, it was probably not nice.

“I’ll have a cold pack ready upstairs.” You said, kissing his temple. The boys and Vixen said goodbye to the driver as he left, leaving the four of you trying to fit inside the lift.

It wasn’t too difficult and you were grateful that Namjoon stayed mostly silent even as his hand kept drawing patterns on the back of Vixen’s naked thigh, climbing decisively too high — and too under her dress — for public decency. Not that he noticed you or Yoongi staring and looking at each other conspiratorially, trying to find ways to tease him about it in the future.

Anyway, Yoongi drew you close with an arm around your waist, whispering in your ear, “I’m just as needy myself.”

You turned to look at him with a knowing smirk. “I wouldn’t expect any less.” You whispered back, pressing your brow to the side of his head.

Luckily, the doors dinged and opened, making the sweethearts quit their endeavours and hurriedly grab the suitcase and the smaller carryon. Next, you took care of Yoongi’s luggage, helping him slide it down the corridor, to the door of his apartment. Namjoon and Vixen stood in front of the door beside you while he opened the front door to their apartment and brought his stuff in.

“I don’t think I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” Namjoon commented.

“I don’t think so, no.” Yoongi replied chuckling as you raised your eyebrows and looked away, avoiding Namjoon’s knowing smirk.

“Then have a nice break. Guess I’ll text you.” Namjoon replied.

“Of course.” Yoongi said.

“Kitten,” Namjoon greeted with a small nod.

You waved at him, at the same time as Vixen said goodbye to the both of you and Namjoon picked her up again.

“We didn’t tell them to keep it down.” Yoongi realised after staring at the closed front door for a couple seconds.

“We could sleep in your studio.” You reasoned with a doubtful pout.

Yoongi’s expression unintentionally mirrored yours.

“Shall we?” You said, gesturing to the door.

He placed his arm around your waist and dragged you in. “I’m not strong enough to carry you like that.” He said, closing the door.

“They’re so disgustingly sweet.” You replied, shaking your head and combing his hair with your fingers. He looked so good with black hair.

“You say that only ‘cause it’s been too long since I last fucked you.” He replied, ignoring the suitcases and placing his lips on yours, chastely, sweetly.

“I’ve missed you.” He whispered, rubbing his lips on yours tenderly.

“I’ve missed you too.” You replied, placing your hands on his ass and pushing him closer to you.

“I love you.” He murmured with his deliriously sexy voice.

“I love you.” You echoed, squeezing his behind eloquently.

He grinned. “Did Namjoon give you ideas?” He said, referring to the lift scene.

“I’m just appreciating the small things in life.” You quipped, making him part from you with an outraged frown.

“My ass is not that small.” He opposed.

“You are small.” You replied, cupping his face and squishing his cheeks.

“You have clearly forgotten how it feels to have my cock inside you.” He teased right back, gripping your ass himself and pushing you against his front, making you feel his hardening length.

“Maybe you could give me a reminder.” You wondered.

“I need a shower.”

“And I need to blow you, which, in my opinion, makes an excellent combination.” You said reasonably.

He grinned and shook his head. “Fuck, if I missed you.”

“Yes ‘fuck, if I missed you’, but also fuck me, please?” You said, raising an eyebrow and opening your hands with your palms up in front of him in a helpless pose.

“Let’s get that shower first, yeah.” He rubbed his hands up and down your sides. “You’ve waited so long that you can wait a bit longer, right.”

“I repeat, you’re this close to sucking your own dick tonight.” You warned jokingly.

“Then we can have that shower and let you blow me before you change your mind.” He teased, calming you down with heavy touches to your cheeks and hair.

He was secretly enjoying the feel of you in front of him, getting reacquainted with the materiality of you, with the joy of feeling you at his side, of feeling you, full stop. He had never known he could miss touching someone. Innocently, attentively and lovingly.

He had missed the feel of you under his hands. Combing your hair, hiding his nose in the crook of your neck, holding your hands.

Holding your hands.

He felt like he could do just that as you fell asleep on the bed.

He felt so tired.

“Let’s go.” You said, noticing his tired gaze.

“The bags.” He said, pointing at his luggage in the entry.

“Later.” You replied, squeezing his hand and leading the way to the bathroom adjoined to your bedroom.

“How was the journey?” You asked, taking off your shirt once you entered the bathroom door.

“Tiring. Very long. We had a long delay due to the connecting flight being late.”

“You had a connecting flight?” You said, incredulous, stopping as you were taking off your shorts.

“Well, it’s pretty difficult finding direct flights from Europe to South Korea.” He said, taking off his own shirt.

You turned around to look at his naked torso. It was pale as usual, more sculpted, but barely, still you immediately spotted the slightest curve on his belly and relaxed. It wasn’t as bad as it looked. Next he took off his loose linen sweats, a pair of plain white boxers emerging underneath. His calves were slightly bronzed, and as he noticed you staring he explained. “I stayed out with Hoseok one afternoon. I had bermudas on.” He pouted.

“My poor little cracker.” You cooed, getting closer to him in nothing but your underwear. As he hugged you, his hands went immediately to the clasp of your bra, unlatching it.

Grinning, you took it off and offered it to him, who threw it hatefully behind his shoulders. “I hate that shit.” He sneered, before cupping each of your breasts and pushing them up, planting his face snug in between.

“I missed you.” He mouthed, kissing both.

You giggled. “Are you talking to my tits.”

“I am appreciating the great things of life.” He murmured.

“I hope appreciating them includes covering them in hickeys and cum.” You commented, caressing his hair as he kept trying to suffocate himself between your boobs.

“What if I appreciated your dirty mouth first?” He teased, opening the tap to the shower and feeling the water temperature with the palm of his hand before bending down to take off his boxers.

His cock was half mast, as glorious as you remembered it, the hair around kept just long enough to stay soft.

As he noticed you staring, he snickered. “It looks like you really want to reacquaint with it.”

“Says the man who said ‘I missed you’ to my tits.” You teased.

“Fair enough.” He conceded, getting under the water falling from the shower head.

Taking off your panties, you followed him in.

“You look beautiful, Kitten.” He said, “a bit too thin, though.” He commented, running his hands up and down your sides.

“All those nights in the gym took a toll.” You replied.

“I still can’t believe you actually went to the gym.” He said, kissing your lips as light as a butterfly. “And just because you wanted to fuck but I was away.”

You shrugged, “the alternative was starting a very sapphic tryst with Vixen, but I don’t think Namjoon would have condoned it.”

Yoongi chuckled, “No, I don’t think so.” He admitted, massaging your ass under his palms. “Nice improvement.”

“I did Vixen’s workout. That girl is a fucking power plant.” You shook your head. “Completely crazy.”

“She is after all Namjoon’s girlfriend. I’m surprised he called her Vixen and not bunny or rabbit.” He shook his head.

“Enough with the sweethearts. Give me the D, mr Min.” You said, getting on your knees.

He laughed and ran his hand through your hair, while you scooted back towards the wall. You precisely knew how you wanted him.

“Kitten. What is it.” He asked, looking at the way you parted your legs and crouched, making sure that your spine and the back of your head pressed against the wall, your heels tucked under your ass.

“I want you to fuck my mouth?” You said, eyes imploring, your hands already running down the back of his thighs, trying to bring him close.

“You sure?” He asked, licking his lips repeatedly, swallowing once and then again in an attempt to bring comfort to his dry mouth.

“Yeah.” You replied, looking up at him bringing your hand between your legs, testing your own wetness.

Your eyes met as he stroked his length a couple times before feeding the tip of his cock into your mouth, parted wide for him. “Tell me how deep I can go.” He murmured, pushing in slowly.

You placed your hands on his hips, pushing him deeper into your mouth. You wrapped your lips around him, covering the edge of your teeth and bobbing your head tentatively. His hand moved protectively to the crown of your head, trying to keep your head from hitting the wall.

“Easy, tiger,” He said, chuckling, before his laugh stopped, interrupted by a moan. “Kitten, that's deep.” He murmured as you pushed him past the back of your tongue and deep into your throat. You kept him there for a couple seconds, focusing on the feel of him to avoid choking, before pushing him away.

He placed the other hand on the wall, holding up his weight. “Are you okay, love?” He asked, noticing your reddened eyes and heavy breath.

“Yes.” You murmured. “It feels so good to have you back.” You said, elated, as you pulled him back into your mouth, asking him with delicate motions of your arms to thrust into you.

“Missed your lips. Your tongue,” he moaned, groaning as you squeezed your cheeks against his tip. “So fucking good.” He combed your hair back and moved the hand from the wall to your chin, making you look up to him. “Look at me, ____.” He ordered you. “I want to look into your eyes as I fuck your mouth.” He leaned his forearm against the wall, plunging in with a gentle curl of his hips, his mouth wide, the water falling down his spine, his black locks plastered against his forehead. “I love your mouth. Your nasty tongue.” He drew out. “Touch yourself.” He growled, teasing you with his sexy voice.

“Yoongi.” You moaned as he slid out. “Please.” You whimpered.

“Please what, kitty.” He said, touching your face.

“I want you to cum.” You cried out, scratching his abdomen lightly.

“How do you want that?” He asked, brushing a few loose strands of hair off your face.

“I want you to fuck my mouth.” You repeated, eager, your fingers rubbing in between your legs.

“Then let me give you what you want, love.” He purred, grabbing his shaft and placing the soft, reddish tip right on your lower lip. “Is this what you want?”

You nodded, begging him with your longing glance.

He grinned sinfully and let his hip arch forward.

He entered your mouth with a slow and steady stroke, giving you time to prepare yourself, until he was all the way in.

“I'll never forget how it feels, Kitten. I've spent hours thinking about this.” He groaned, his chest heaving.

And then he slipped out, only to stroke in again. You moaned a bit, and then kept quiet, focusing on the feel of him, on his eyes screwed shut, on the rhythmic contractions of his belly, on the flexing of his quads and his glutes.

He was so beautiful, lost in bliss, chasing his high, stopping only when you tapped his leg twice.

He let the tip rest on your tongue, “love that dirty mouth.” He praised you as you slurped and twirled your tongue around him. “Can never resist it.” He went on.

Once more you pulled him towards you, humming wantonly.

“Close, Kitten. Need your… Yes.” He groaned as you reached for his balls. “Sq–”

He didn't have the time to give you orders: you were already doing his favourite things, massaging his sensitive spot, squeezing him gently until he sank deep into you and went silent for a couple seconds, not even breathing before he let a raspy roar tear from his mouth and echo in the small space.

You shut your eyes tight as he gave the smallest thrust, burrowing deep into you as he spilled inside you, the lack of oxygen getting to your head, but still you tried opening your eyes, looking at Yoongi's lips hanging open, gasping for hair.

His chest expanded in a deep breath. “For fuck’s sake.” His eyes opened slightly.

He was leaning over you, the light dimmed by his body shielding you, the sound of the water precipitating against the floor a bit too loud for his ears and your own.

You touched his leg twice and his eyes shot open as he slipped out quickly. “Damn it, you okay, Kitten?” He knelt between your legs, touching your cheeks and taking in your closed eyes and your chest heaving as you finally got some brand new oxygen in your lungs.

“A bit short of breath.” You whispered, leaning into his touch and nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

“Oh, precious.” He moved his hands behind your back, hugging you close. “Poor thing.”

“Don’t baby me.” You mumbled, raking your nails down his back, making him shiver.

“No?” He asked, smiling softly, rubbing his cheek against your hair. “You’re a tough cookie?”

You nodded with your eyes closed and he snickered.

“My tough cookie.” He murmured, patting your head. “I missed you so much, beautiful. I love you.”

You untucked yourself from his shoulder and looked at him in the eye. “I love you, too.” You cooed.

“What can I do for you, ____?” He asked, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

You dipped your head forward, hiding into him. “I want you close.” He felt his heart melt.

“You don’t want me to fuck you?” He asked, simply caressing your head as you mouthed at his throat.

“Let’s finish the shower first.” You said, parting from him and standing up.

He placed a chaste kiss on your hip as you stood before him, his tongue delving between your legs, tasting your honey-clad folds. “I swear the taste of your cunt keeps getting better and better.”

“We can take this to bed, Yoongi, now stand up and let me wash your hair.” You murmured, running your hands into his dark locks

“You could wash my hair while I make out with your pussy.” He suggested.

“I need to focus, stand up you menace.” You smirked playfully.

He obeyed, bending his head forward, planting it between your tits.

“Yoongi!” You said, playfully outraged.

“Oh, come on.” He murmured. Immediately he found his usual spot and took it past his lips, sucking it with his teeth, rubbing it with his tongue while you found the bottle of his shampoo and poured some in your palm, rubbing your hands together and spreading the foam over his hair.

“Don’t be a whiny pup.” You scolded him, spreading the soap over his scalp, carefully avoiding it going into his eyes.

As he felt your fingers massaging his head, making sure that all the shampoo was rinsed off his hair, his lips accidentally parted in a wide yawn.

“Let’s go to bed.” You murmured, maybe for the first time since you saw him downstairs, the dark circles underneath his eyes.

You closed the tap quickly, stretching to reach a towel and drying him up, pressing the towel to his pained shoulder, dabbing the cotton softly before peppering a cascade of kisses on the skin. “We’re gonna put some lotion on this baddie.” You said, smiling gently at him. “Does it hurt?” Your lips still caressing his skin there while you kept drying him up, knowing how dangerous it was for him to stay wet under the air conditioning. He was delicate and something inside you, something affectionate and apprehensive, made you want to pamper him.

“A bit.” He said, pouting, feeling like he could drop his facade now, abandoning himself to your gentle care.

He yawned again. “You had your orgasm and now you’re sleepy, kitty cat?” You teased, cooing at him cutely.

“I’m a bit jet-lagged,” he admitted, stealing a towel and opening it up, cupping your breasts from over the cotton, and then moving his attention elsewhere, brushing your belly, your arms, kneeling down and placing a small kiss on your lower belly, before rubbing the fabric over your legs, first one, then the other, helping your foot up and drying first your left, then your right one.

“Where’s the lotion?” You asked, kissing his brow as he stood up.

“In the carryon. It’s with the toiletries.”

You quickly wrapped your towel around your body, exiting the room and looking for his large suitcase. You opened it, his laundry neatly folded inside, his beauty bag perfectly fitting in. As you rummaged into his beauty bag, you frowned, spotting a familiar bottle of lube and a small silicone pocket. A few condoms loose among his toiletries.

Something in you hesitated. Even though you knew Yoongi would never, ever look at someone else, old ghosts of your ex immediately started tormenting you.

You tried to ignore the unsettling feeling, blinking a few times before grabbing his shoulder lotion and heading for the kitchen, immediately finding a cold pack inside the freezer, and bringing it to the bedroom. You looked inside a drawer, finding a little kerchief or a bandana — whatever it was — and bringing it to the bedside table.

Yoongi was laying in the middle of the bed, looking at you as you obstinately avoided his gaze.

“Lay on your side.” You asked gently but coldly before he obeyed, still a bit confused at your change in mood. Was it because he hadn’t fucked you? Maybe you were okay with it, but now you weren’t anymore? Were you disappointed?

You poured some cold lotion on the round muscle, following the instruction he had taught you before he left, when he came home tired and sore from practice. And then again, his therapist had taught you some small tricks after the concert in Seoul, when you had accompanied him to the doctor the following day for his ordinary session.

He hissed as the cold gel met his skin, while your thumbs dug into the skin gently but surely, massaging the stressed muscle. “It’ll warm up.” You said simply, spreading the lotion and massaging it where flesh and bone met.

You opened the cold pack, cracking it in the middle and placing it behind his shoulder, where his shoulderblade and collarbone met. locking it into place by tying the bandana around it, running it around his armpit. “There you go. I’ll go rinse my hands.”

You hadn’t kissed him. Or looked at him.

“Kitten.” He called, but you were already walking into the joined bathroom, willingly ignoring his call.

You opened the tap, rubbing the heavy stench of the gel off your hands, and then placing your clean, wet, cold palms against your cheeks, trying to calm down.

You grabbed one of his t-shirts before you lowered the blinds, walking towards the bed and laying down on your side of the bed, curled up in a ball and sliding under the covers after turning on the air purifier. His eyes opened as you laid down,

“Why are you wearing a shirt?” He asked.

“I’m cold.” You replied briefly.

“Kitten.” He called again.

You turned away from him, taking a few deep breaths, pondering whether you should talk or not.

“Kitten.”

“I found the condoms. In your bag.” You voice shook. “I know you would never do what he did but still.”

“Goodness.” He murmured, his breath freezing in his lungs. “Fuck. Kitten. Don’t.” He said calmly, with a reassuring tone, coming closer to you, hugging you to his chest, his tender arm coming around your body, while his good one moved under your head, pillowing it. “They’re there from when you came to our concert in Busan. Remember?” He said, kissing the crown of your head. “Remember Busan?”

You nodded. Of course you remembered. “I do.” You had changed birth control and you had used the condoms for safety. And accidentally — since you were already equipped — you had tried anal for the first time, quite to your surprise.

“And I kept them there. Hoping that maybe you could find a way to come to one of the concerts. That maybe we could have a couple nights somewhere.” He explained, intertwining your fingers. “No one else. I swear to God, no one else, Kitten. No one else, ____.”

You relaxed in his hold, kissing his arm under your head. “I’m so sorry. I know you would never. I trust you, but… You know how it feels.”

“I do, love. I know you trust me, baby.” He kissed your shoulder. “I’m so proud of you, being so strong, my love.”

“Can you just hold me?” You asked, slowly slipping into complete relaxation. Even though you knew feeling him inside you would be the best form of reassurance, you abandoned the idea. Because, as much as you’d love him to ruin you, what you had missed the most while he was away was his hands combing your hair before falling asleep, his chest expanding and deflating against your back as he slept behind you, his hand gently placed on your chest, while you simply laid there, basking in the peacefulness of being together. You missed combing his hair, feeling the weight of his head resting in your arms, kissing his temple as he laid his head on your shoulder, you watching a movie while he pretended not to nap.

“There you go, Kitten.” He murmured against your nape, sprinkling little pecks all over your upper back. “I missed you.” He whispered, again, losing count of how many times he had said it. His body relaxed behind yours, his mind already thinking how he could possibly offer you true reassurance later — and repay you for the blowjob. In kind. With interests. Once he was sure you were sleeping, he stood up, looking into the drawer of your bedside table and smirking once he found the small case together with the charger.

He considered he’d better recharge it and avoid unfortunate mishaps, he unplugged your bedside lamp and connected the charger, plugging it into the toy. Satisfied with the potential developments, he curled up around you; his eyelids fluttered closed, his yawns becoming stronger and more frequent, sleep conquering his body as your own muscles loosened with Morphean abandon.

————————————

When Yoongi woke, it was already sundown, a gentle orange light coming in from the window. Around seven pm.

First, he noticed that his shoulder felt better. Next, he noticed that you were wearing a shirt.

Disappointing.

And next, he realised that he was home. At your side. In your bed.

Finally, he realised that he hadn’t yet seen you cum. He had been home for around six hours and he had spent the majority of those sleeping. When he could have made you cum on his tongue several times.

He started considering his options.

With quiet and discretion, he parted from your sleeping form, heading for the small drawer where he kept bedsheets, towels, underwear and sleeping clothes. There, under a blanket, he found exactly what he was looking for.

“Yes.” He huffed out, placing his treasure on the drawer and fixing the rest, moving back to the bed together with the soft object. He removed the cold pack from his shoulder and spread the small two-layers blanket on the free side of the bed, planning to lay it out fully once he managed to wake you up.

Now he only had to rouse you.

He arched his eyebrows, thinking of how he could do that without getting his cock bitten off.

You were a very smart and adult woman, but still you took your naps very seriously, acting like a whiny child whenever someone interrupted them.

He crawled on top of the bed, curling up in a ball below you, pressing his knees to his shoulders as he gave a tentative lick on your naked labia, his tongue insinuating between your folds until he found your sweet nectar.

Your hips moved against his face, just barely, an involuntary movement of your body. You were still asleep.

He gave a full lick, as far as your position allowed.

You fussed in your sleep, maybe mumbling his name, or maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him. He lifted your leg just enough to have access to your clit, the tip of his tongue toying with it, tapping it a couple times before he flexed his appendage and rubbed it against your sensitive spot, first in tiny licks, then in circular motions.

“Yoongi,” this time you called for real.

Finally happy with the result, he put down your leg and laid down behind you, placing his palm on your belly and sliding it under the shirt, feeling your naked skin.

“Kitten?” He called, making sure that you were actually awake.

“Yes.” You replied, your voice groggy.

“I want inside.” He murmured at your ear.

“Yes.” You confirmed, mind still a bit hazy with sleep.

“Yes what?” He asked with an arrogant chuckle.

“Inside. Please.” You whimpered, your hand stretching behind you and grabbing his sex.

“Let it be, Kitten. I’ll take care of it.” He slapped your hand away before he wrapped his fingers around his shaft, rubbing his tip against you. “You want it like this?” He said, nibbling your shoulder. “Want me from behind?”

You nodded, lifting your upper leg and hooking it back over his hip, offering him access. “You’re so good at spoons.”

He snickered. “Told you it was good.” He slid the tip in slowly, stretching your hole as the thick, red, spongy head breeched your inner cave. “Remember when we played twenty question here, in my house?” He said, voice raspy as he slid in all the way, stilling only once he bottomed out.

“I do.” You replied with difficulty, through gritted teeth. “I rubbed you through your pants unti you came.”

“You were fingering yourself while jerking me off.” He murmured. “You were there, so open about your pleasure, so unashamed.” He kissed you below your ear, slowly sliding out.

You whimpered as he parted from you, lifting your shirt and pushing his hand to your chest, his fingers immediately tweaking your nipple. You turned your head, trying to meet his lips, almost getting a crick in your neck at the effort. He slid in with a deep stroke, bending over you and joining your mouths.

“In that moment I realised I had to have you.” He groaned against your mouth.

“We hadn’t even kissed and you were thrusting yourself into my hand.” You mewled as he rubbed against the tender tissue inside you. “God, you always hit my sweet spot like this.” You cried out, giving him a few squeezes.

“So tight.” He cried out, purring against your ear. “And I hadn’t kissed you because I was afraid.” He said, almost as if he weren’t trying to possess every inch of you, as if it wasn’t the most difficult thing he had ever done, to stay perfectly still inside you as you milked him.

“Afraid.” You said, provokingly. “Ten dates in two months and you were afraid.”

“I knew that the moment I got my tongue in your mouth, I would never slow down.” He murmured, pulling out just barely before ramming into you. “I wanted to hear you moan for me from the first time I heard your voice. So soft. So sexy.” He groaned against your ear.

His hand moved to the other breast, your gaze focusing downwards, on his skeletal fingers, on the way they spread and constricted around your flesh. “Yoongi, I wanna cum.” You moaned, grinding your hips in circles while he gave tiny thrust that rubbed the head of his cock against your g-spot. “So good.” Your hand reached behind, grabbing his ass cheek and sinking your nails into the flesh, imprinting five red crescents into the skin, scratching it, marking it.

His other arm slid beneath you, fumbling a little as he substituted the one on your breasts, while the other one, a bit freer, moved up, to slip his fingers into your mouth. “Suck them, Kitten. Moan around them.” He said, pressing his index and middle finger on your tongue. “Make them wet before I rub them on your clit.” He murmured, giving small circles with his hips, feeling you clench around him.

“Close.” You moaned while he moved his fingers away from your tongue, right on your sensitive bud.

“Come on. Cum for me.” He groaned, rubbing his palm delicately over your nipple, teasing it barely, only the tip meeting the rough skin of his calluses. “Cum on my cock. Claim it. Come on.” He said, his voice strained, his hips pushing with quick small strokes, focusing on caressing and pressing against your sweet spot.

“Yoo—” You tried to speak his name but your mouth stayed open, a loud scream ripping from your throat, as it all became too much. “Yoongs, wait, fuck, too good!” You screamed as his fingers kept teasing you insistently, overstimulating you. “Yoongs, fuck, another!” You felt his thrusts become faster, harder as your second high approached.

“No no no no, please, stop!” You screeched, trying to tug his wrist away, while he kept it against your mound, tucked in tight.

“You know the word, ____.” He growled as he gave a few final strokes inside you, your whole body shaking with effort, your second high so incredibly strong that it took your voice away, your ears filled with a shrill beeping sound. “So good.” He hummed pushing your back into his chest as he stayed deep inside you, coating your cunt with his seed as he gave a couple tentative thrusts. “So fucking good, Kitten.”

“Yoongi,” you murmured with your voice hoarse.

“The whole neighbourhood will know about you getting that good dick,” He teased, slipping out of you and holding you tight, rolling you on top of him, and then on the other side of the bed, where he had laid the special blanket just for you.

“There’s the blankie.” You said, surprised.

“Yup. I laid the blankie for you.” He said, as he noticed you sitting up and tearing your t-shirt off your torso, throwing it away before you rolled your body on your front.

You smiled and nuzzled into the soft microfiber, anticipating the special treatment you were about to get.

“Are you ready, Kitten?” He asked, rubbing your ass, then letting his finger walk up your spine, carding through your hair and grabbing it, massaging your scalp with his hooked fingers.

“Yes, please.” You said, half still dizzy with your previous orgasms, and half dizzy with the anticipation for the ones that were about to come.

“Would you like to stay on your front?” He asked, stretching to the bedside table and unplugging the device, placing it away from your curious eyes.

“Yes? And then turn around?” You asked, turning your head to look at him, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Maybe you could play with my boobs, choke me a little, then fuck me again?” You said, arching your back and pushing your ass up, trying to lure him in, and at the same time rubbing your sensitive nipples against the soft fabric.

“Greedy little beast.” He said, patting your head affectionately.

You pushed your face against it, like an obedient little cat.

“Stay put, Kitten. I’ll come back in a second.” He said, dashing for the entry room lightning fast, rummaging in his backpack for his phone, finding it and murmuring a “aha!” before he headed back to the bedroom the small toy still placed in his palm, his fingers wrapped tight around it.

As he entered the bedroom he slowed down, looking at you kneeling with your ass up, your front pressed against the mattress, your arm trapped underneath you as your fingers played peekaboo between your legs, tickling your folds like the long, spindly legs of a spider.

“You got started without me?” He asked, looking at you with his phone in his hand, his other palm unfolding as he let the vaginal vibrator dangle from his fingers pinching the small cord that simplified extraction.

“Fuck it, I love you.” You chuckled, pushing your fingers inside, feeling how deeply he had stretched you.

“You only love me for the sex.” He said, grinning, making the vibrator swing back and forth like a pendulum.

“That’s not true.” You said, whimpering as you hit a really good spot. You giggled. “I also love you because you’re fucking filthy.” You teased.

He grinned his signature gummy smile and brought the toy to his face, his lips parting wide and wrapping around it, sucking it in his mouth.

Your eyes went wide at the gesture, the cord dangling like the tail of a mouse caught in the cat’s clutches.

He crawled behind you, placing down his phone as he caressed the back of you thighs, grabbing your ass and massaging it with his firm, strong hands.

“Put it in?” You asked, wiggling your butt in his grasp.

His right hand parted from your skin, pinching the cord and tugging at it, the toy popping out with a loud noise. “My filthy babe wants her cunt filled?” He asked, licking at his cum as it has oozed out of your slit, coating your inner thighs.

“Please, Yoongi.” You purred, using your fingers to part your labia.

He snickered and placed the toy on your entrance, letting it slide in one millimeter at the time.

You felt every single second of it, the slightly oval shape calling for a barely-there stretch at the tip, but hitting an almost-burning sensation once you reached the widest part, Yoongi devilishly stopping it there, his other hand disappearing from your leg.

That’s when the vibration started. Slow, steady, almost imperceptible.

“Yoongs...” You whined, stretching the vowels in a whining tone.

“Oh, quiet.” He shushed you, putting down the phone to caress your spine, “Be a good girl.” He murmured, scratching your butt before slapping it playfully. “You should keep up with the work out. Look at this ass.” He said, before letting his teeth sink in it.

You screamed, the toy finally sliding all the way in.

The vibrations started propagating inside you, together with his teeth tightening on your flesh. He would leave a mark for sure. It was only a matter of how harsh it would be, how long it would last.

He parted from your butt, pondering for a second whether he thought it a good idea to run his tongue down the junction of the two ass cheeks, teasing the hole in between.

Not yet. He felt like he should discuss it with you first.

To silence his doubts he parted from you, admiring the view, letting it eventually suggest him how to proceed.

He wished he could preserve the moment in his mind forever, even if he couldn’t quite see your face, your pretty nose scrunched and eyes shut as you focused on the feeling between your legs, trying to make it good enough to lead you to pleasure once more.

With his phone he let the intensity of the vibration grow just a bit. A very, very tiny bit.

“More.” You mewled, your fingers rubbing your clit.

There was his suggestion.

Sliding his hand up against your side, then forward, near your belly, he managed to take control of your wrist, pushing it away and trapping it behind your back. “I’m gonna give you more, but that’s all you’re gonna get, Kitten.” He warned, letting his thumb increase the vibration on the touch screen of his phone.

“Fuck it. Yes.” You said, as the stimulus became medium-intense.

And then mild again. “Don’t mess with me please, just please!” You cried out, writhing against nothing, parting your legs wider as he noticed the cord hang between your leg twitching with the tight contractions of your cunt.

“Oh, I shouldn’t?” He raised the controller all the way up.

“YOONGI!” You screamed, your body out of control as your legs gave out, pushing your hips against the mattress, the soft fiber of the blanket feeling divine on the delicate tip of your clit.

And then again the vibration quieted down, your brow furrowing as you felt your eyes get watery, huffing out, panting and grunting as you looked for relief, grinding against the bed desperately.

With a grin he let the vibration flutter on a middle ground, giving you a fleeting feeling of stronger and weaker stimulation.

“How does your tiny cunt feel, Kitten? Is it tight? Wet? Warm?” He asked, provokingly.

“It feels very— Yoongi!” You called again as he let you begin talking comfortably and then turned the vibrations all the way up, making you tear up and cry out his name.

“That’s right.” He said. “It feels me.” He toyed with the cursor on the upper side of the screen, letting it oscillate among the higher values. “It feels only me. Because that’s my cunt.” He said, talking over your small hiccups and whines. “And it’s the only cunt I want to be inside.” He snarled, bringing the controller down low again, your desperate sniffling making him feel compassionate as he let the vibrations go to the maximum and left them there, his torso rising over you as he let a dollop of spit fall from his lips to your puckered hole, his hand leaving your wrist and spreading over your ass, his thumb spreading his spit and pressing enough to cause a stimulation but gently, not to violate your delicate entrance.

“I’m so close.” You cried out, panting, your mouth so dry as you felt the wet slide of his finger between your ass cheeks, on the sensitive skin of your anus, where even the slightest outer pressure echoed inside tenfold.

“Cum for me.” He groaned, picking up your hips and laying his front against your back, rutting his crotch against the seam of your ass.

“I’m— Oh—” You stayed silent as the high rushed over you, an incredible amount of wetness pouring out of your slit, getting caught in the blanket, just the way it was supposed to, the double layer protecting the sheets below. “Oh, Yoongs, babe.” You said, your whole body falling down, your legs kicking and twitching as the vibration stayed too high on your still delicate spot.

“I wanna ride your face, quick I’m gonna c—” You tried to focus on not squirting again, waiting for him to get in place.

Mercifully, he turned down the vibrations, laying on his back, parting your knees and sliding below your pelvis, his mouth immediately finding your clit while you raised your front on your elbows, so you could make more room for him — but also to feel your breasts hang heavily, and to tease your nipples while the whole scene carried out.

Yoongi started sucking almost immediately, one of his hands spread on your ass, rubbing it and squeezing it, the other one toying with the controller, giving you that rhythmic increasing and decreasing stimulation while you got used to the feel of him on your clit.

And once more you were close, your inner muscles shaking violently as he hummed against you, clicking his tongue fast against your delicate bundle of nerves.

And just like that, your hips started undulating gently above him, giving him the sign to leave the vibrations high up as you moved your weight on your hands, raising your upper body to look a his eyes focused on your bouncing tits, on your parted mouth, on your eyes, rolling shut as you gushed on him, your cum covering his upper chest as you grabbed your left breast in your palm, constricting it in your painfully tight fist, while your hips went wild on him, fucking your clit into his mouth, moving so hard and fast that he lost his grip on it while you rubbed yourself all over his face, meeting his nose, his chin and simply chasing the feel of the hard surface of his lineaments against your overstimulated clitoris.

He basked in it, after all the time it had taken to have you this wild, this reckless while his mouth worked his magic on you. You had began your experience with him as a shy novice in the art of getting head, but now here you were, spreading your wetness all over his nose and chin and lips and dammit, forehead too, riding him with the prowess of a tiger, glorious in all your ruthless lust.

He was aroused by your confidence and it took him a while to realise that you had collapsed over him, crying, begging, your legs kicking against the mattress while your hand had left your breast and had tightened its grip into his hair, keeping his face still first while he tried to move it side to side. Now oversensitive, with tears in your eyes, you pushed his head away, down, off of you.

“Yoongi. Please. Oh, god. Icycle, Yoongi. Icycle.” You sobbed, your voice breaking as he quickly found the cord and pulled the vibrator out of you.

And there you were, laying barely alive on the bed, his head under your hips, the toy vibrating on the bed, somewhere.

He allowed himself one brief second before he lifted your hips and slid out from below you. “Kitten,” He said, worried, wiping his face and chest with a corner of the blanket while he switched off the toy, trying to turn you around, on your back, so he could see you properly.

Obeying to his insistent hands, you turned, showing him your eyes rimmed with tears, your wild hair, your chest, still shaking with sobs and hiccups.

“Poor Kitten.” He said, caressing your face. “You had to use your safeword, baby? Are you okay?” He asked, cupping your cheek and kissing you.

You immediately wrapped yourself around him as he laid on top of you, your lower lip pouting. “I want you closer.” You said, grinding your hips against his hard sex.

“Need to be fucked by my cock?” He asked. “Again?” With a gentle expression, he parted from you enough to pump his length a couple times before you felt him enter you.

The sensation was different. With the vibration gone, all you felt was the fullness, the thrusting motion that he started straight away now that your cunt was slippery and wide.

“Hard and fast, love?” He asked, checking on you.

You nodded. “If possible, then yes.” You said. “Can I please touch myself? I’m not sure I can cum without after that...” You explained, his head nodding as he already dove for your tits, tightening his hand around your neck — more precisely your jugular — while his mouth focused on your left nipple.

You felt him beginning to hammer into you, at the beginning with slow, thorough slides that had you feeling every single vein, from the tip to the base. And then he simply focused on the angle, your head growing dizzy as you gurgled his name, helpless, desperate, horny out of your mind, completely fucked out.

“Does it feel good, Kitten?” He asked, releasing your breast and focusing on your neck, biting and leaving a few bruises and hickeys around.

“Always.” You whispered, meeting his thrusts.

“Then move in with me.” He said, pouncing on you in the most unexpected moment.

“What?” You said, trying to open your eyes, to focus on his expression, his crunched nose, his lips parted and his hair sticking to his forehead with wet locks, the vein on his neck popping out every time he thrusted in and bit his lip in an attempt to control himself.

“Move.” Thrust. “In.” Thrust. He said, grunting.

He hit a very good angle, your fingers stilling on your clit. “Yoongi—” With a very smooth stroke, he made your eyes roll close, your lips parting in a tiny word. Very tiny.

“Yes.” You sibilated.

“Yes?” He asked again.

He had probably fucked you dumb and brainless.

“Yes.” You whispered again.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good in our home.” He said, ramming in with renewed enthusiasm, finding a speed and an intensity you didn’t think his delicate body could muster.

“Our home.” You murmured, pushing your heels into his butt and meeting his thursts with impatient little moans as you felt your last high approach, your eyes rolling shut as he tightened the pressure on your veins and finally collapsed on top of you, your fingers strumming your clit a couple more times before you felt that definite clenching; his mouth releasing a tiny hum as he gave two small strokes, his lungs releasing a long exhale.

“You’re moving in.” He said, exhausted on top of you. “I love you.”

In the small limbo between death and life, in the postorgasmic bliss of the French ‘small death’, you wore a small smile. “You fucked me dumb enough to make me say yes.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard my D is your kryptonite.” He joked, giggling weakly.

“This was probably your best performance, mr. Min.” You said, patting his head. “Really fucked me dumb. Cunnilingus so good I cried. It’s a ten across the board, love.”

“Well, now that you’re moving in I’ll have a lot more time to defeat my new record. Upgrade. Improve. Elevate.” He nibbled your nipple. “Outdo myself.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing. Good: getting the D anytime. Bad: having multiple near death experiences in a week. I might have to reconsider moving in.” You mumbled, combing his hair.

“I’ll simply have to keep you dumbfucked twenty-four-seven.” He pondered. “Can do.”

You giggled. “Can do.”

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stevesharrlngtons · 4 years ago

Note

Ooh, I really wanna see Roman all grumpy at a flea market 😂

41. flea market

the scowl that roman’s face held was not only completely unignorable, but came with sound effects.

ew’s and ugh’s and scoffs and tuts left your boyfriend as you wandered from booth to booth, all the while inspecting each vendor with villainous intensity. he would stiffen if you picked something up and only exhale when you put it down. you were getting quite sick of his eccentric performance.

“you know, you could at least pretend that you’re having fun,” you commented.

roman awkwardly shifted his feet behind you as he muttered a disgusted noise.

“how in the hell am i supposed to pretend to have fun, here?” he sneered, “a gathering named after a pest?”

he watched as you picked up a set of betty boop salt and pepper shakers and practically slapped them from your hands.

“absolutely not.”

“what? i like them, they’re campy!” you chided, reaching for them again. but roman interrupted your search and took you by the wrist and drug you away.

“hey!”

“i am not going to put food, that i will ingest, in something used, (y/n).” he shuttered.

“so, i’m not allowed the betty boop salt and pepper shakers, i’m not allowed the armoire because you’re convinced it has bed bugs, and i’m not allowed the creepy clown dish because it’s tacky, is that correct?” you crossed your arms.

you scoffed as roman nodded, his face telling you he thought all his gripes were justified.

“i mean, tacky and cursed.”

“roman, listen, this is a partnership, is it not? that means that in this partnership, i am allowed to buy what i want, if i like it, to decorate my home with.”

“our home,” he stressed.

“yes, our home. and i’m apart of that our, and i don’t want it all to be the weird bachelor pad bullshit that it is currently filled with.”

roman rolled his eyes, “i can’t believe you are calling my stuff weird. i saw that weird nude sculpture you wanted!”

“it’s abstract. it’s not my fault you don’t get expressionism,” you shrugged and walked around him to continue through the market.

you heard him grumble before he followed.

“i guess i’ve never been one for kitschy crap or metaphors.”

“and i’ve never been one for sterile monochrome blandness, but hey, i’ve never complained,” you replied with a tight lipped smile.

“are you seriously mad about this? because i don’t want to invite bed bugs and cursed clown dishes into our space?” roman stepped in front of your path to stop you.

“yeah, a little.”

“jesus fucking christ, you’re being ridiculous” he swore and you pushed past him once again.

“well, then maybe i should rethink this whole thing! maybe i should go back and get my creepy clown dish, and my betty boops and my amorie! and i’ll have my own apartment full of ridiculous, used, cursed items full of bed bugs! and i’ll love it because it’s my style. and no one will be around to make fun of it,” and you turned on your heel and marched with purpose away from him.

it wasn’t the end of the world if you didn’t get to decorate the way you wanted. the individual items meant little to you, but it was the principal. it was the point of the matter, that it seemed that roman did not want any evidence of your existence in his space. yes, you knew that he struggled with change, but you thought if he could jump the hurdle of asking you to move in, your belongings strewn throughout wouldn’t matter.

as you made your way deeper and deeper into the flea market, you wondered if this was a sign. a sign that roman didn’t want your touch on his home because he knew he wouldn’t be able to give up his womanizing ways, and he didn’t want evidence of a live in girlfriend all around. was this an omen? was this a red flag that you would look back on? or one you would act on now?

you fumbled through a rack of vintage t-shirts, barely registering the designs in your contemplating new funk, when you heard roman’s tell tale retch behind you.

over your shoulder, you watched as roman kept his arms close to his body as he weaved through other patrons. he avoided them like they would burn him with acid if he got to close and the unbridled judgment and disgust on his face with shocking, even for him. as he neared you, you spotted a brown paper bag in his hand.

“i thought you would have left,” you said when he reached you, your nose stuck up and your hands stuffed in your jacket pockets.

“here,” roman said, not addressing your claim.

when you didn’t take the bag immediately, he extended his arm further and shook it with impatience.

“take the fuck shit, alright?”

you cautiously took the bag from him, and inside was the salt and pepper shakers, the dish and a gorgeous silk scarf you had pondered after for a moment.

you looked up at him with wide eyes, and roman’s shoulders rolled under your gaze.

“the armoire is being delivered tomorrow. i got a good deal on it, too.”

“ro, i --” but roman stopped you.

“i love you. i do... and if this is you, and this is what you like, and what will make you happy... then yeah, i don’t know. i can live with it.” he tried to speak as casually as possible, like this revelation of compromise wasn’t a giant moment in your relationship and in your worried pondering moments earlier.

“i love you, too. thank you.” you grinned.

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” roman sniffed loudly and avoided your lovesick gaze.

it only made you grin wider, before you flung yourself into his arms. he caught you with ease and pulled you tight to his chest.

“thank you for letting me have all the weird, creepy junk that i want!”

“so, you admit that it is creepy and weird? and junk?”

“just for that, i’m buying that creepy victorian photo album i found,” you patted his chest firmly, kissed him sweetly, then extracted yourself to go quickly in search of the album before he could stop you.

roman sighed deeply, following you as he pulled out some hand sanitizer from his pocket. he was going to have to sage the whole fucking house by the time you were done with it.

#oh how i love u i hope u enjoyed and this didn't suck lol #roman godfrey x reader #roman godfrey imagine #stevesharrlngtonswrites

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demxters · 4 years ago

Text

Falling

jj maybank x reader

request: Can you write a jj imagine based on falling by harry styles like he goes to your house and is telling you how he feels and there is flashbacks to what happened between the two of you with fluff at the end

word count: 3.0k

warnings: swearing

a/n: ok, so i got carried away with this one, but i couldn’t help it, i’m a sucker for jj maybank. anyways, this was my first song request and y’all are probably gonna hate me for saying i’ve never listened to any harry styles until this request but i loved the fine line album sm i listened to the whole album twice over while writing this.

(gif credit @rudypankows)

***

I'm in my bed

And you're not here

And there's no one to blame but the drink and my wandering hands

Forget what I said

It's not what I meant

And I can't take it back

I can't unpack the baggage you left

JJ can’t sleep. He’s been laying in bed for hours, staring at the beige ceiling in his room illuminated by moonlight, the only sound he could hear being his dad’s snores and the light breeze of the Outer Banks. He couldn’t sleep because he can’t stop thinking about what you said that night. He turns on his side, gripping the sheets of his bed. He closes his eyes for a moment pretending that he’s with you, in your room where he should be. He imagines the sound of your laugh when he tells you yet another corny joke, your beautiful y/h/c hair splayed out on your pillow and your eyes crinkling in delight. But he knows he can’t face you now, not after what he said.

______

“Stop saying that! How can you say that when I’ve brought you nothing but hurt? You got caught in the middle of a fight because of me! Doesn’t that say enough?” JJ’s voice echoes through your empty house as you follow him through the front door. He has one hand in his hair, the other holding a half empty beer bottle. He moved from pacing in your room to pacing on the front porch. He takes another swig of his beer, shaking his head. “All of this, all of this is bullshit.”

“JJ,” you say softly, tears filling your eyes. You slowly continue walking towards him on the porch, afraid that any sudden movements would scare him away. “I meant everything I said back there. I love you. I love you so much that it physically hurts to even look at you sometimes. Do you think that seeing you battered and bruised doesn’t make me angry? That it doesn’t make me want to storm over to your house and confront him myself? Everything I do for you is because I care.” You pause to take a breath. “As for thinking you bring me nothing but hurt? I would go through it all if it meant being with you at the end of the day.”

JJ doesn’t say anything. He just looks away from you to hide the tears that are now threatening to spill down his face.

“Because you don’t deserve to go through this alone. No one deserves to go through what you’re going through alone. I love you too much to put you through any of that by yourself. So please, JJ, just let me in.” You’re fully crying now. The apples of your cheeks are sticky and damp from all the tears.

“I need to go,” is all he says walking down your front porch steps.

“JJ!” you exclaim, grabbing his wrist to stop him from going any further.

He turns to face you. “Let me go, Y/N. Let me go and don’t even try coming after me. I don’t need this,” he says gesturing between the both of you, “right now. I don’t need any of it.”

You watch him go through tears and a tear in your heart.

_______

What am I now? What am I now?

What if I'm someone I don't want around?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm fallin'

What if I'm down? What if I'm out?

What if I'm someone you won't talk about?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm fallin'

JJ sits up, turning to his bedside table. 11:28, his clock reads. JJ groans, just wanting the night to be over. He meant none of the stuff he said to you that night. He was just so afraid of how fast he was falling for you that he did the only thing he knew to do, he pushed you away. JJ wanted nothing more than to go to your house right now and take you in his arms, apologizing over and over for what he said. To kiss you with all he’s got and tell you that he loves you too. But there’s a voice in the back of his head telling him that you hate him. That you hate the person he’s become. And he believes it.

_____

You said you care, and you missed me too

And I'm well aware I write too many songs about you

And the coffee's out at the Beachwood Cafe

And it kills me 'cause I know we've ran out of things we can say

The day after your fight with JJ, you were hesitant to join the others at the Chateau, knowing that he was going to be there as well. His words hurt, but nothing hurt more than knowing that things between you two would never be the same again. If only you weren't such an idiot and kept your feelings to yourself then you wouldn’t even be in this position in the first place. Dreading the idea of seeing JJ again you called Kie telling her that you couldn’t make it today.

“What? Why not?” she asked.

“I’m just not feeling it, s’all,” you say softly into the phone.

“Is this about JJ? Because if this is about JJ, Y/N, then I swear to god-”

You called Kiara last night and told her about what happened between you and JJ knowing she was the only one who you could talk to about it. “Yes, this is about JJ, Kie. I can’t see him right now. It just hurts too much. As much as I miss him, I can’t. I can’t put myself through that right now.”

“Ok,” Kiara says, hearing the pain in your voice. “But please call me if you need anything at all ok? I’ll drop anything the boys decide to do today if you need me.”

“Thanks Kie, love you,” you say with a sniff, wanting to cry.

“Love you. And take care of yourself, ok?”

“Ok.” You hang up the phone and bury yourself back into your covers, just wanting to disappear. You wipe your face with your shirt catching a quick whiff of its scent only to realize that it’s his. It was one of the shirts he left at your house after staying the night. The smell of weed, sunscreen, and his musky cologne fill your nose and you can’t help but cry even more.

***

At around four in the afternoon, you decide to go to Heyward’s to buy some ice cream after finding out that your mom ate it all. You change out of your sweat pants and into some jean shorts, unconsciously leaving JJ’s shirt on.

You enter Heyward’s with a small smile of content. Heyward’s always felt like a place you could take refuge in since you spent so much time there working with Pope. Heading toward the ice cream aisle, you accidentally bump into a body causing them to drop what they were holding.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you say, picking up the pack of beer cans that fell to the floor.

“Y/N?”

Oh, god. You knew that voice. You’d recognize that voice anywhere. You look up to see him staring down at you with wide blue eyes.

You thrust the cans of beer back into his hand before ushering past him wanting to get out of there as fast as possible.

“Y/N! Wait!” JJ exclaims. “Can we just talk, please?”

You stop in your tracks. “There’s nothing to talk about,” you say, coldly. Not even turning your back to look at him you walk away.

JJ stands there, alone, wanting nothing but for you to come back. But he knows you won’t. He knows how stubborn you can be. It’s then that his worst fear comes true for he just lost the one person he cared about the most.

_______

And I get the feelin' that you'll never need me again

What am I now?

What if you're someone I just want around?

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin'

He looks over to his bedside table to see that barely any time has passed since he last checked, the clock only reading 11:35. He can’t stop thinking about the way you didn’t even move a muscle when he last saw you at Heyward’s. That the second you knew it was him you bumped into, you acted as if you guys had never been friends at all. And he can’t blame you, if he were being honest. He’d hate him too if he were in your position. But he couldn’t take any of that back now. It’s been two weeks since the last time JJ has seen you. You didn’t want to see him, you made that much clear. You’ve been avoiding him like the plague. JJ’s talked to Kie every once in a while about how you were doing. She told him that you were slowly getting back to your regular self, eating, getting out of the house, helping Pope with the groceries and hanging out at the Chateau every once in a while. It hurt to know that you were still seeing everyone, but what did he expect? He had his chance and he ruined it. The pain was just getting too much for him to handle. He wanted you back. He wanted to be back in your presence that made him feel safe, loved and cared for. He wanted to be resting his head on your lap while you ran your hand through his hair. He just wanted you.

JJ bolts up from his bed, puts on his shoes, and is out the door in record time. He doesn’t even think twice about where his feet were taking him, knowing the route to your house like the back of his hand.

______

JJ stands at your window for a moment, unsure of whether he should even bother to knock knowing you’ve been avoiding him for two weeks straight. No, he thinks to himself, He needs you now more than ever. So he pushes all his doubts and fears aside and raps the familiar tune that you two use to let the other know that they’re there.

You sit up in your bed, immediately recognizing the knocks on your window. After two weeks of avoiding him, you couldn’t believe he was here. You hesitate for a moment, thinking if you should continue your act of ignorance or if you should let him in. You choose the latter. You’ve just missed your blonde haired boy too much.

You pull off your covers and slide open your window. You then step out of the way so JJ has room to climb in.

He just stands there staring at you from the shock that you opened the window for him, but also to take his time to admire you for he hasn’t seen you in so long. Your hair was slightly mussed and you had your arms crossed over your chest. He didn’t think anyone could look so beautiful wearing faded pajamas with a scowl on their face.

“So are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna come in?” You ask, finally breaking the silence.

JJ makes his way into the room as gracefully as he can, though he knocks his foot on the window sill and face plants right onto the floor.

It takes everything in you to not laugh or crack a smile at the sight of him face down on your floor. You quickly move to shut the window and walk back to your bed, sitting on the edge. “What are you doing here, JJ?”

“I needed to see you,” he says, getting up off the floor. “Y/N, I made the biggest mistake of my life telling you I didn’t want this.” He makes his way over to you and sits next to you on the bed. JJ’s so close that you’re sitting knee to knee and you can smell the weed on his clothes.

“JJ, I completely get if you don’t feel the same way,” you whisper. “You just really hurt me with what you said. I mean I thought I scared you off so bad that you didn’t even want to be friends anymore,” you say with a scoff.

“Y/N, that’s the thing. I do feel the same way. God, looking at you physically hurts sometimes too. Because I look at you, and it’s like time stops. Like nothing else in this world even matters. I see you and only you.”

“JJ-” you try to say, but he only shushes you and grabs your hand in his. He leans forward, placing his forehead against yours and closes his eyes.

“Please, let me finish,” he opens his eyes to look into yours as if waiting for your confirmation.

You bite your lip and slightly nod your head.

JJ takes a deep breath before closing his eyes once more. “You are the only thing that matters in this life, the only thing that keeps me from losing my shit 90% of the time,” he lets out a light laugh before continuing. “And I know I have the Pogues but it just isn’t the same when I’m with you. It’s better. With you, I feel like I could do anything, beat anything that stands in my way. You make me want to become a better person because the guy that I am right now is shit.”

You squeeze his hand, trying to silently tell him that’s not true. That he’s everything you could ever want.

He squeezes your hand back. Thank you, the action conveys. “I don’t deserve you, Y/N. You deserve someone better than me. Someone who could provide you with a life better than this one. That’s why I couldn’t believe it when you told me you loved me because how could someone like me ever be loved? My mom didn’t love me enough to stay and you already know about my dad, so why should you? So I pushed you away. I was afraid that if I let you love me I’d only lose you in the end, just like I lost everyone else.” JJ scoffs. “Some plan that was, huh? I ended up losing you anyway.” He opens his eyes to look at you and he’s a goner. The tears stream down his cheeks like a leaking faucet, no end in sight.

“Oh, JJ,” you whisper. Your heart breaks for the boy in front of you. You wanted nothing more than to love him more than anyone’s ever loved. To make him feel like he deserves to be loved, because in your eyes, how could anyone not love him? You pull him into your arms wrapping one arm around his back and using the other to press his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder. He continues to sob into your shoulder making your shirt a little damp, but you don’t care. “JJ, you never lost me,” you softly say, rubbing your hand up and down his back while running your other hand through his hair. “I will always be right here.”

JJ pulls himself from your shoulder and takes your face in his hands. He wipes away the tears streaming down your face as you’ve begun to cry as well. He lets out a small laugh at how disoriented yet beautiful you looked in that moment. The tip of your nose was red from crying and he couldn’t help himself but to lean in and press a quick kiss to it.

“You missed,” you whisper.

“What?” JJ asks, looking back into your eyes.

“I said, you missed.” This time, you look from his lips to his gorgeous blue eyes before licking your own.

JJ gets the message and he slowly leans in. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips softly meet yours. He barely applies any pressure to them just slightly pressing into you. You parted your lips and he tilted his head, slightly giving you more access. The feeling of his warm, chapped lips against yours was like a drug as he pulled you against him, deepening the kiss. You ran one of your hands through his hair and rested the other on his jawline. He kept one of his hands on your face while the other moved down to the bare skin of your waist where your shirt rode up a little. His skin on yours sent a shock through your body as he started caressing the skin of your waist with his thumb. As he applies a little more pressure, you gasp at the cold sensation of his rings on your skin. The kiss was slow, yet desperate. Needy, but passionate. Needing air, he finally pulls away, lips red and swollen.

You open your eyes to already see him staring back at you. You rest your forehead against his and lean forward brushing the tip of his nose with yours. “Stay with me tonight?”

JJ smiles for the first time in a while. “Anything for you, my love.”

The two of you climb into your bed. JJ has his back against your chest and you have your arms wrapped around his torso. He holds your hands in front of him and plays with your fingers. You press your face against the back of his head, basking in his familiar scent and presence. You lightly press your lips to the back of his neck and whisper a small, “good night” into his ear.

JJ brings one of your hands to his lips and presses a soft kiss to it before holding it against his lips and whispering an “I love you.”

You let out a contented sigh as you reply, “I love you too. More than you could ever know.”

What if I'm down?

What if I'm out?

What if I'm someone you won't talk about?

I'm fallin' again

I'm fallin'

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theprophetsaid · 4 years ago

Text

I’M SCARED - ANALYSIS

While Another World will live rent-free in my head forever, I’m Scared makes me want to scream. I don’t know if that’s good or bad, but I know that I had to do an analysis of this one as well.

Disclaimer: I’m not telling you what to think. I’m writing my analysis based on how the song is presented. You are free to make up your own mind about it.

Part I: This is personal

Since I can’t find an interview where Brian talks about I’m Scared, I’ll discuss how he sees himself as a songwriter and how that influences the song. In an interview about his album Back To The Light, Brian says:

"(...) I can only function if a song means something to me regarding human relationships. I like to write about things that are personal, rather than about politics and other wider issues.”

He labels himself as a personal writer who, above all else, writes about human relationships. That is important in the context of I’m Scared, as it allows me to assume that the voice in the song belongs to himself, not a made up character.

Brian worked on this album during a period of massive emotional turmoil for him, while he was struggling with his mental health and thought his life was in ruins. That, as you will see, also relates to this specific song.

Edit / addition:

Since writing this analysis I’ve come across an interview where Brian (very briefly) talks about the song: GW: "I'm Scared" is an interesting one.

MAY: Yeah, that goes back a long way. I kept doing different versions of that, as I kept finding out that I was scared of more and more things. And I figured that most of us are. We just keep it inside. I think it's good to let all that stuff out sometimes. Do a bit of screaming. — Guitar World Magazine, January 1993.

Here, Brian says that the song took a long time to write, but he also “confirms” that it’s about his own fears. In other words, this song is about himself.

Furthermore, Brian has revealed (on his live stream last week) that ‘I’m Scared’ is the first song he wrote for the album. Do what you will with that information.

With all of this in mind, I’ll break down the lyrics and the story that they tell.

—

Part II: The Story

You take me to the party You put me on the stand You're pumping up my heart To the beating of the band You toss it in the air And you don't care where it lands You take it, you break it You're hurting me There’s a clear dynamic set up here. There’s a ‘me’ (Brian, presumably) and a ‘you’ (someone else), but this dynamic is framed in a certain way right off the bat because the person he’s with is doing everything, and doing them to Brian (’You take me to the party’; ‘You put me on the stand).

The phrase, ‘Pumping up my heart’ seems to be a metaphor for attraction and the heart-racing sensation that it often causes. Then after ‘pumping up [Brian’s] heart’, this person carelessly plays with it and breaks it, hurting him. This person that he’s with is in control while Brian is presented as passive and, frankly, rather powerless in comparison.

Because I wasn't prepared I couldn't go where you dared You got my whole soul bared I never knew that you cared (No it just ain't fair) I’m scared (x13)

This chorus more or less explains the imbalance in control by implying that it relates to bravery. Brian doesn’t consider himself as daring as the other person, which would make him less able/likely to take control in the dynamic.

Also, ‘you got my whole soul bared’ is interesting because it implies that this person understands Brian on an intimate level in spite of him not opening up; Brian didn’t intentionally bare his soul to them but they can somehow see it regardless.

You take me out to dinner And you swallow me whole You're nothing but a sinner With a dark black soul I figured I could handle you But I'm just a toy You're getting bolder and bolder You're just a bad bad boy

This verse is the game-changer. It describes that Brian went out to dinner with whoever this person is. The difference in bravery/control between them is consistent, but the metaphors that describe the dynamic here are not emotional as they are in the first verse. They are sexual. ‘You swallow me whole’, ‘sinner’, and ‘toy’ have those clear connotations, which heavily implies that there is a sexual aspect to this dynamic.

(Moreover, being swallowed whole alludes to a... very specific sexual act and I frankly don’t know what to do with that information, but I’ll leave it here: It’s a blowjob, folks.)

Now, let’s address the elephant in the room, shall we? It’s that last line. It changes everything about this song.

Brian is singing about a man.

The ‘you’ is explicitly gendered as male. That is non-debatable. Moreover, gendering the ‘you’ in this verse, specifically, is a bold move because it includes so much sexual language. Brian describing himself as this man’s toy, singing about being ‘swallowed whole’ and being unable to handle him... It alludes to a sexual relationship, and I didn’t read into that. That’s just how it’s presented.

What you staring at You're such a scaredy cat When I know that I just can't fight it So what you staring at You're such a scaredy cat Because I'm only scared that maybe I might like it

Edit / Section changed due to new interpretation:

This bridge is interesting mostly because of the way Brian sings it. The bolded lines are sung in a tone that’s different from that of the unbolded ones. It creates the feeling of two people speaking to each other. This makes even more sense when you look at the lines themselves. “What you staring at, you’re such a scaredy-cat” seems like a taunt, whereas “When I know I just can’t fight it” and “Because I’m only scared that maybe I might like it” are framed like responses to this taunt. This paints a picture of the man taunting Brian for staring/being scared, and Brian “responding” to this with the bolded lines.

Now, as far as the meaning behind the bolded lines goes, the ‘it’ is unspecific. However, when you view them in the context of the previous verse, which has a very sexual tone, I think it’s safe to assume what it is that he can’t fight. What he’s scared of liking. It’s about attraction, and it’s about sex.

After this fear of ‘maybe liking it’ has been sung, the song breaks off into a section in which Brian sings about everything that frightens him. When you listen to the recording, the fears are thrown at you in a rapid pace and it’s difficult to hear them as they pan from ear to ear, but here are some of them:

I'm scared to change, I'm scared to stay the same I'm so scared I want to die I'm scared of dying I'm scared of my thoughts I'm scared of being found out

The bolded fear ‘I’m scared of being found out’ is the last thing you hear when you listen to the song because Brian screams it; it’s louder than anything else. But overall this whole section is a major red flag for his mental health deteriorating; it presents fear as a constant whirl in his mind. Each fear seems to produce yet another fear until it becomes a spiral of sorts.

(Interestingly, the spiral seems to grow out of his fear of ‘maybe liking it’.)

Following this section, the lyrics jump back to the story of Brian and the other man:

You take me to the limit You take me to the brink You left me with the blues When you found me in the pink You know just what you're saying But your metaphors stink I gotta lick it,or stick it Or this is the end

Edit / section changed due to new interpretation:

As we return to the verse structure, we also return to the dynamic, with the lines “You take me to the limit, you take me to the brink.” These illustrate that the man has taken Brian to “his limit”, probably emotionally, and “to the brink,” which, again… if you look at it in relation to the language and connotations of the previous verse… it can be seen as a, um, sexual brink, if you know what I mean.

“You left me with the blues when you found me in the pink”. As @iwilltrytobereasonable pointed out in the comments, in the pink is an old metaphor for being in your optimal state of health and wellbeing. The blues is a self-explanatory contrast to that. To me, this line is Brian saying, “You met me at a time where I was doing well but, because of what you did to me, I’m now depressed. So fuck you.”

Now, “I gotta lick it or stick it, or this is the end” is still mysterious to me, but as someone pointed out in the comments, it might be a form of ultimatum. Because this dynamic is written as sexual, I’m gonna assume that the ultimatum is, too. Since Brian “couldn’t go” where the other man dared, does this refer back to that? Was he given the option to either “lick it” or “stick it”, but couldn’t go there so it just ended? To me, that makes the most sense.

The Hidden Lyric:

Before I move onto the melody, there’s one last thing that I want to talk about, which is a hidden lyric toward the end of the track. By “hidden” I mean that it wasn’t included on the lyric sheet, but you can hear it, muffled in the background. As Brian sings, “I’m scared, I’m scared” repeatedly, there’s a single time where you can hear him quickly yell “Maybe I’m wrong!” afterward.

So the hidden lyric is:

I’m scared (Maybe I’m wrong!)

And… this line kills me because, keeping everything in mind about the narrative of this song and the emotions that it discusses… What might Brian be wrong about?? And why does that scare him so badly?? I think it’s pretty self-explanatory but it seems to be an acknowledgement that he might be wrong… about himself.

With all of That out of the way, I want to end by discussing the melody of the song quickly.

—

Section III: The Melody

If you read the lyrics to this song before listening to it, chances are that you’re gonna be thrown off as soon as you press ‘play’ because the melody and overall tempo of the song does not match the content of the lyrics at all. It’s a fast-paced, guitar-heavy beat that makes your head spin. The singing is aggressive and full of confidence, which immediately diminishes the heavy words that are coming out of Brian’s mouth.

Because the beat is so overwhelming, Brian can sing ‘I’m scared’ about 50 times (or more, I haven’t actually counted) in the song and it won’t really land because the rhythm is too distracting. The rhythm tells you something else, it says, ‘bang your head and forget about it’

I definitely find it alarming that he sings about such intense fear in a nonchalant way, in a way that almost forces the listener to look past it. Why would Brian choose to do this? I dare suggest that it is to present this song as the ultimate case of irony. It’s as if he’s saying, ‘I’m pouring my heart out to you and you don’t even notice because I’m singing like everything’s fine. I’m pretending that everything is fine.”

—

Final Thoughts:

So, why does this song make me want to scream?

Well, I think that should be obvious by now. I know this analysis could make some people uncomfortable but, frankly, I don’t care. I don’t think it’s appropriate to ignore the obvious implications of the song’s narrative simply because we don’t want to question what we think we know about Brian’s sexuality. The fact of the matter is that I’m Scared is about a man, and not only that, it is intentionally sexual in tone. That, I think, is non-debatable. What it means, well... As I said, you are free to ponder that on your own.

#let's be honest i could write a thesis on this song #not tagging this post because i don't think i should put it in the tags #but please feel free to reblog and like and comment if you want :)#or better yet: send me a message so i can ramble about it more #my analysis //#edited: 8/12/2021

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atsunflower · 4 years ago

Text

Rated: SFW

Author notes: *sigh* for the third time the damned app ate up the tags. This one took me too long and I'm excited for write about my man suna again. This is also pretty different from what I'm used to write, but why not? Please enjoy your reading.

Warnings: cursing, substance usage/mentions, break-ups and me trynna be funny.

I – Cancel me.

Previous || Next

He looked at them with expectation as the beats smoothly faded, indicating the song's ending.

If he were to be honest, the pair before him was a pain in the ass, but their opinion was that important because, when it came to music, they were the best at it. He felt no shame nor jealousy in admitting it.

"Dunno, the hook sounds like a Vice headline ta me." The bleach-haired male said, hearring the song's outro blaring through the studio speakers.

"Isn't it a Kid Milli reference, tho?" The other asked while munching a chip. He frowned at them, not understanding their point.

"Whatever. You two are no help anyways." Hearring their bullshit, the brunette already regretted this collab. He paused the queued song, turning to the other two with a blank stare.

The twins before him snickered, knowing they successfully hit a nerve. They couldn't help it, provoking Suna was one of their favorite hobbies.

"The song is good, but I gotta tell ya this butt hurt phase of yers is pretty lame." The faux-blond opened his mouth again, spinning around the studio with the desk chair.

"Fuck you, Atsumu" He snapped, almost giving in to the desire of decking them both on the face.

"Tsumu's right, ya Lil Peep wannabe. Can't believe this break up ended up that bad." Osamu said in mockery, throwing the empty Lay's wrapper at him. He scoffed, disposing the wrapper on the bin before getting back at the screen to look at the FL studio interface.

"It's not that I have a broken heart. I just wanna know what's wrong with my life" He shrugged, blindly tacting over the desk in search of his Juul.

"Yeah Samu, he's just grieving over those fancy ass Dior Jordans. Sunarin is incapable of mundane things like a broken heart." His blond friend was partially right.

Suna Rintaro was many things: alt model, music producer, cloud artist and a decent volleyball player that almost went pro. But if there was something he could never be, it was a lucky man on love matters.

With his fair share of failed relationships, the artist could never pinpoint when things went wrong. It would always be the same: he would meet a girl, they would have a good time and then, the chick would turn out demanding as fuck.

In the end, every single one of them would slap him across the face and leave his life banging the front door shut like crazy — last week, it was Mika who broke things off, but not before setting his limited edition pair of jordans on fire. He would never get over those sneakers.

"Good for him, those kicks were kinda ugly." Osamu said in a bored manner. Suna felt his soul leaving his body.

"The hell, Osamu?" He was ready to fight, deeply offended by the attack at his taste in fashion.

"Yo, you two." Atsumu butted in, checking something on his phone "Y'all are drifting away from our problem."

"That is?" The other brother asked.

"Cheer up Sunarin before he fucks up with the Album." If Suna had the energy, he would kick both Miyas out of his studio "And I gotta the perfect thing. Let's hang out at Akagi's tonight, he just invited us." The already distressed musician felt the soul leaving his body for the second time that afternoon. He was sure both twins wished his death.

"Not a fucking chance. Last time I went there I almost died because of that weird stuff we smoked."

"Aw, Sunarin, Kita'll be there too." The faux-blonde tried to persuade. The mention of their older, responsible and straight edge friend made Suna look at them with interest. But he needed more, though. Based on the last experience, he didn't have the will to risk his life going to Akagi's house once again. A shiver descended his spine as the male recalled how much he threw up that night.

"Suna, man, I gotta agree with Tsumu. Yer feelings are showing in your music." Osamu said as if he was some kind of genius.

"Isn't art about it, tho?" He deadpanned "Expressing feelings and shit?" He asked, staring them dead in the eye. The males before him shivered because of its intensity. Suna snickered.

"Man says art, but most of his songs are about the Nikes on his feet and the Tesla in his garage." Atsumu mocked "What the fuck?" The blonde barely dodged the moleskine thrown at him.

"Don't chew on me when you do the same, asshat. This is called character development." As unnerving the twins were, he felt a whole lot better in their company "Just lemme produce my sad stuff in peace."

"Cut us some slack, ya dumbfuck. We're just worried about ya." Osamu protested " 'Sides, no wonder no girl sticks by yer side. You know what the chicks find sexy? Seizing the means of production, not yer dumb car."

"You two are so la—" The musician was interrupted mid sentence, startled by the blond figure clutching his phone with enthusiasm.

"Oi Samu," Atsumu's loud voice startled the other two, as he excitedly fisted the air.

"What the fuck?" Suna asked, dropping the Juul on the floor.

"She'll be there tonight." The blond said, looking at his brother with a new wave of joy.

"The fuck? She who?" The brunette frowned.

"Ya gotta go and find out, man." The gray haired twin said with a knowing smile, matching his brother's excitement.

The night out felt somewhat draining. The booze, the music and the company were great, but his lack of energy was a mood killer.

Cheer me up my ass, Suna cursed internally as he observed everyone getting wasted all over the place. He grimaced at the sight, realizing the meeting with the twins was enough social interaction for the day.

He didn't know what's gotten into him. The male knew it wasn't necessarily caused by the break up, but he couldn't help the feeling down.

Right now, life just felt lowkey suffocating.

Being a public figure meant being under the spotlights the most of time.

People talked.

People assumed.

Media was all over him, ready to catch a scandall.

And of fucking course his name was on gossip headlines. It even occupied a spot on twitter trending topics for a day or so.

"Fuck me." He said before the lukewarm beer went down his throat.

"Sunarin!" He heard Atsumu shouting from his right "I want you to meet someone!" And only now he noticed the blond had his left arm over a girl's shoulders.

Oh, that's the one they were talking about, maybe? the brunette realized. What's the hype, tho? He asked himself, eyeing your figure.

"[Name], this is Suna. Sunarin, this is [Name], best girl ever and the mastermind behind the visuals of mine and Samu's last album" The bleach-haired male said with a proud smirk, ruffling your hair. You were obviously shy.

How cute, the brunette thought.

"Dumbass, don't embarrass me in front of others!" You nudged the Miya with your elbow "Nice to meet you, I saw your name on TMZ last week—" You said beaming and he grunted.

I take it back. Not cute at all, the man internally screamed, not ready to talk about the recent events. He didn't even want to listen to the rest of your speech, your cheery voice went through his ears in a white noise.

"And this makes me really excited for your album. The interview about the collab with dumb and dumber was lit." You continued, the words were genuine and you seemed really interested "And I also relate on a spiritual level because I know working with them is hell."

Oh, she's talking about the album. He realized in relief.

"Yo, I heard good things about you too. The design of their album was hella sick, even though they two suck ass." Suna snickered when he heard Atsumu protesting. You only left out a giggle, joining him on the teasing.

The blond kept ranting about how bad of friends the two of you were.

"I didn't introduce y'all ta gang up on me. Bye, I'm finding another company. Ya two suck." The blonde Miya said, leaving only you and Suna in the sofa area.

"Uh, so…" He drifted off, trying to start some small talk

"Yeah..." You both giggled at the awkwardness "Not enjoying the night?"

"Too much happening right now. Lots of people talking shit 'bout me." He sipped the beer, grimacing at the stale taste of the drink "Hope they cancel me already. So all this shit dies down." Suna looked away, suddenly shy for opening up to a stranger.

"You're a famous guy and the break-up wasn't that scandalous. It'll be over eventually, just beware the sneaker cult." Your amusement was comfort enough. You didn't make intrusive questions about the events and merely joked it off. He felt so worn out by the situation but, at least, your presence wasn't overbearring.

"How is it everyone knows about the jordans?" You shrugged it off, laughing at the distressed face he mocked. Sighing in relief, Suna couldn't deny how refreshing your presence was. Not to be a jerk, but usually, the girls either were all over him or judged every single move he made. You were just that easygoing.

"Well, I don't think you came here to sulk on the sofa all night long. Why don't we join them by the pool and down some shots?" You hopped off of your seat, pointing to the glass doors. All the boys were waving at you two and suddenly, Suna felt a wave of joy run down his body.

Atsumu was right. Best girl ever.

At some point of the night, everything became about you.

All he could hear was the sound of your voice and all the time, his eyes were drawn to your figure. He couldn't figure out a reason for it, but the rapper wasn't complaining either.

A sharp pang at the side of Suna's head broke the trance he was in. Osamu had a shit eating grin on his face, eyeing the ravenette with amusement.

"We told ya so." The younger twin mused whilst he handed a long neck of vodka to the other.

"Stop. This is dumb."

"Yer dumb. But you ain't that dumb ta dare ta mess with her." The gray-haired Miya squinted at him, menacingly pointing the bottle in his hand at the brunette. The latter shrugged it off, opening his drink.

"Nah, I'm good." And he meant it.

But how could he explain the situation he was in?

Lips and hands wandered over the expanse of his skin. Everything was too hot and too good at the same time. Overwhelming, even.

He wanted more, more and more. There wasn't enough of you.

And if it wasn't unfair enough, his body felt lethargic. He was desperate, but couldn't keep up with the rhythm you imposed. Be it the alcohol or the stress, his body gave up and blacked out, even before you could undress each other.

In the morning after, a pounding headache woke him up. Suna didn't dare to open his eyes, but the morning breath fanning over his face was unbearable.

"I can't believe a cutie like you have a stinky breath like this." The complaint came out in a raspy voice, accompanied by an annoyed grunt.

Someone snickered on the other side of the room.

"Man, I didn't know you had the hots fer Samu." Atsumu was somewhere across the room, laughing at him.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" Hearing the other, Suna's body jolted, dizziness made his head spin in the process. He felt sick in the stomach and the morning light made his eyes sting. "When did I get back here?" The male looked around, realizing he was sprawled over Akagi's floor, right beside Osamu, who didn't even squirm at the loud voices in the room.

"What do ya mean? We never left" Atsumu frowned, uncaping a water bottle he was holding "Ya puked on Kita and passed out. The boys were too wasted ta drag yer sorry ass back home so we all crashed here." The blonde was dumbfounded, trying to figure out how wasted Suna got last night.

Suna wanted to know too. After all, there was no way the events envolving you were a product of his drunk mind.

facts:

• Suna's artist name is yosemite.

• He has a Tesla Model S because of Frank Ocean.

• He takes his Nikes very seriously.

• No, not all of his songs are about the car and the kicks.

• He and the Miya twins got a sports scholarship because of volleyball, but they dropped out of school to make music.

• The three of them created Inarizaki, the label they're making music under. Kita and Aran manage it.

• Both Miya twins are beatmakers and music producers. They recently debuted as artists and now are making a collab EP with Suna, thus Atsumu's concern about the album.

#suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines

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neonun-au · 3 years ago

Note

more groups bc u asked lol

itzy

twice

aespa

the rose

txt

stray kids

svt

hoppipolla

lucy

nct (idk if u wanna do the units individually or all 23 of them its up to u)

writing this out made me realize i barely listen to kpop just day6 and like 3 other kbands lmfao

HAHAHAHA i listen to a lot of groups, but very sparsely lol

thank you lolol this is fun

itzy

[ if i’m familiar ]

favorite member if I have one: i think ryujin is super cool

favorite song: swipe i think is the only one i can stand lol

why I don’t stan (yet) / if I want to: i want to cause i like the girlies a lot and i think they're fantastic dancers but i just...hate their music LOL

question for veteran fans: do they have any good b-sides?

twice

[ if i stan ]

favorite member / bias line: bias line is the japanese girlies i love them all but jaehyo and chaeyoung are coming for my throat <3

which member I’d fight (& why): i will fight dahyun with my lips and her lips <3

favorite song: i can't stop me i think its the best fucking song and also i really love likey. what is love and tt are right behind

favorite thing about the group: i just think they're great idek. i just really like them hahaha they have that same sort of effortless existence that a lot of jyp groups seem to have for some reason? idk what it is

something i’d like to see from them: just keep doing what they're doing tbh lol or maybe take a break cause they must be tired af

aespa

[ if i stan ]

favorite member / bias line: ningning (giselle is...i love giselle too)

which member I’d fight (& why): none of them they're lovely

favorite song(s): SAVAGE, next level, i'll make you cry, lucid dream

favorite thing about the group: they're so well rounded??? ningning and winter are powerhouses and they're all so funny and entertaining. i love them. the styling also i love. i know that's directors and stuff but i love it.

something i’d like to see from them: lean more into a cyberpunk sort of vibe music wise. they are now moreso i think with savage and that whole album but they could keep going

the rose

[ if i’m familiar ]

favorite member if I have one: woosung is cool

favorite song(s): none of their songs really do it for me :')) beauty and the beast is pretty good tho

why I don’t stan (yet) / if I want to: they just don't do it for me music-wise so i have no desire to dive much deeper in

question for veteran fans: idk haha i don't know what to ask lol what made you stan?

txt

[ if i’m familiar ]

favorite member if I have one: sooobiiiiin

favorite song(s): 0x1=lovesong, frost, eternally, can't you see me

why I don’t stan (yet) / if I want to: i just...they're so little. they're so little and i have so many groups i pay attention to so it might take a while for me to get into them on anything deeper than surface level

question for veteran fans: if you could show someone one clip of txt to sum up them as a group what would it be?

stray kids (im like on the line with skz between casual and standom so)

[ if i stan ]

favorite member / bias line: idk anymore lol han is so funny but i really like lee know i think he's insane <3

which member I’d fight (& why): changbin always looks ready for a fight so maybe him lol

favorite song(s): thunderous, double knot, back door, ex, side effects

favorite thing about the group: they're fucking insane lmao always so fun to watch. they capture a similar sort of spirit to me that i got from got7 and i love that

something i’d like to see from them: idk honestly haha they're doing pretty good

svt is done here

hoppipolla

[ if i’m unfamiliar ]

I’ll listen to their top song on Spotify & tell you my thoughts: (i did youtube instead lol) it's called your ocean. it's a pretty song, reminds me of when i used to listen to davichi and more k-indie stuff

I’ll look up photos & tell you who stands out to me: google kept giving me the song from sigur ros lol i looked up their members profile and hyunsang stands out i think just because of his hair LOL

I’ll tell you if I’d look into them more: probably not, honestly, k-bands very rarely do anything for me haha

lucy

[ if i’m unfamiliar ]

I’ll listen to their top song on Spotify & tell you my thoughts: top song was 'flowering'. its nice but i don't really like violin band music tbh idk what it is about it that just doesn't resonate HAHA

I’ll look up photos & tell you who stands out to me: sanyeop has a cute face <3

I’ll tell you if I’d look into them more: similar to the rose and hoppipolla, they just don't do much for me haha

nct was also done in a previous one !!

:DDDDD fun !!! glad there were a few in here i was unfamiliar with i like that

#replies #ask game #winwinverse #hehe thanks emmy!!

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nicetomeetniall · 4 years ago

Text

Several times I missed you-HS

Masterlist

Summary:

Harry is not doing so well with the breakup.

Word Count: 1,941

Warnings: A little bit sad.

I missed you when we began to drift before it was over. You had always kept me up too late, rambling on about things I only cared about since they involved you. We always climed into bed and stayed up for maybe an hour longer, you talking and me listening. Our eyes would be closed and the lights off. Anyone would have thought we were fast asleep unless they heard you talking. Sometimes the stories were about coworkers or whatever book you were currently reading. You talked about the characters as if they were real and you knew them. I never realized how much I loved that. Other times it was less interesting topics like reality tv. I’d tune in out just enough to feel myself drift to sleep and then you’d pull me back in.

“Harry, are you listening to me?” You’d ask and turn around as best as you could given my arms around your stomach and your back to my chest.

“Yes, baby. You’re talking about Love Island.” I would usually respond and nestle my chin further into your shoulder after I placed a few kisses against it.

The night we stopped having these talks, I missed it. It was sudden. There was no gradual shortening of the conversations. One night we had them and the next we didn’t. Instead, you were silent after we exchanged our goodnights. We were so distant and I hadn’t even noticed until our bed conversations seemed more intimate than anything else we did.

I missed you again when I went home to my mothers after the breakup. You had urged me to be the one who stayed at our apartment until other living arrangements were made. You offered to be the one to leave and stay with a friend but I refused. It didn’t feel right. It seemed like it was now more your space than mine, anyway. I was away so much. You were the one who held it down and called when something broke. It was yours. Just hours after we had cried in eachothers arms, not wanting to seperate but knowing it was best I was on my mom’s porch. I had a backpack filled with just a few days worth of clothes because I hoped that was all I would need. There was hope that we’d figure out a way to make it work and we’d be back to normal. I cried most of the drive to my moms and I shouted just a little bit of it. I was so stupid. For the past few years it was you who stood next to my side as we waited for my mom to answer the door. It always took her forever and we’d laugh about it. She always hugged and kissed you first. I always pretended to be offended when she greeted you before me. I missed that more than ever when she opened the door and her face dropped. She only had me to greet this time. She didn’t have to ask questions to know that we had ended. I wished she would have. Maybe we wouldn’t seem so far away if she asked me about what you were doing at work or how your parents were.

And then the inevitable came too quickly. You called me just four days after everything went down. Unlike the last time we spoke, your words weren't in between sobs. I hoped that you were telling me to come back home. You weren’t.

“I’ve got most of my things out.” You said, not even saying ‘hello’ first. “The furniture is all still there.”

“No, it’s yours. It’s all yours. I’m not coming back there.” I said as I quickly sat down on the couch. My legs went weak and my heartbeat quickened.

“Some of your things are here, ba-Harry. You should come get them. Some of them are important.”

I wanted to fight it and tell you it didn’t matter. You could donate anything. Sell it. I didn’t care. None of it was important.

“I’ll come by tomorrow. Will you be there?” I asked.

“Yeah, I should be.”

The following morning I made the drive to where we based our lives. The front door was unlocked, letting me know you were right inside. I hated when you left the door unlocked. You had a habit of doing it. I was always getting out of bed to make sure it was locked and although it was sometimes annoying; it wasn’t as bad as turning over in bed and not seeing you there.

As soon as I opened the door I saw you. Your head turned so you could meet my eyes. I wasn’t looking at first. Instead I saw how you were sitting in the middle of the living room floor. Our photo albums were in front of you and there was a stack of photos at your side.

“Just pictures of my family and stuff.” You said and quickly stood up. “I’m not messing with...ours.”

You had changed so much already. It was your presence. You looked the same, talked the same, but you didn’t act the same. I wondered if I had already changed, too.

You were much more cautious as you walked over towards me. I expected you to walk past me and towards the hallway so you could give me space. I didn’t expect your arms around me and your face to my chest. I could barely hug you back before you pulled away, keeping your hands on my arms.

“Are you okay?” You asked, your eyebrows furrowed and your lips turned down.

i wasn’t sure of the right thing to say. Saying yes could make you think I was unbothered and saying no could make you feel bad. When my mouth opened but no words came out, you understood.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to say anything.” You gave me a faint smile before you let go of my arms, making them feel heavy.

We spent a few hours in the apartment moving past each other as we gathered our things. You had already gotten most of your things, but there were pictures on the walls, kitchen things, and bathroom supplies you had purchased that still needed rounded up. I barely got anything done at all.

In all those hours I had boxed only two boxes of clothes. I wasn’t sure where the time had gone. I was paying attention to the music playing from your phone and the sounds of you walking around the space. As I was folding up a shirt, you came into the room.

“Everything of mine is good to go.” You said, looking down as you leaned against the doorframe. “I left the rest of the photos. I wasn’t sure what we should do with them.”

“You don’t want any?” I asked, not meaning to sound as harsh as I did. “I mean, not even from our trips? Memories, you know?”

You pursed your lips to the side and I could tell you felt bad.

“Well, I have them all on my phone and backed up.” You said, finally looking up to meet my eyes. Things were silent for a few moments before I spoke again.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. I’ll do something with them.” I assured with a nod to try to convince myself that I was okay.

YOu stood in the doorway for too long. It was awkward and painful, but I didn’t mind too much. At least you were still around.

“It’s not our fault. You know that, right?” You asked, taking my attention from the t-shirt in my hands I had folded several times.

I thought it was our fault. How could we let something as special as this end?

“I don’t know.” I said, finally tossing the shirt into the box in front of my feet, not caring that it came unfolded. “It’s four years that have just been thrown away.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and opened your mouth as if to argue what I said, but then your face softened.

“I think you’re too important to just throw away, Harry. I won’t be throwing us away. Keep in touch, would you?”

I missed us.

People always talked about how it could be hard to get to sleep on your own after being with someone. I never believed it until a week after I last spoke to you. At first it was easy to sleep. I could nap for a few hours and forget about what you may be doing. It was an easy way to escape. After a while, I was up until the morning came. I tried keeping the TV and the fan on. None of it worked.

There was nothing that could replace the feeling the blankets being pulled from around me or your leg against mine. I tried to turn the TV on as high as I could without bothering my new roommate in an effort to replace what should be the sound of your breathing.

I didn’t get much sleep.

Once things had begun to really sink in, I tried to make you out to be a bad person. It would be easier if I could be angry. If I could pick out my least favorite things about us and magnify them, maybe I could find peace. I really tried.

I thought back to all the times I was picking your shoes up from in front of the doorway. You were always taking your shoes off as soon as you opened the front door. I remembered how frustrating it was when you forgot to turn the bathroom light off in the middle of the night.

Those things weren’t huge deals at all. Is stepping over a pair of shoes in the morning that big of a deal? No. I didn’t care most days.

Neither of us did any wrong.

After several of my friends suggested going out, I did. She was a former coworker and we went out for lunch. It felt wrong. The entire time she was talking I had to remind myself to think of her in ways other than strictly friendly. As sweet as she was, she wasn’t you. Lunch ended with me thanking her for her time. It was a terrible date.

Two months passed before we talked. I could have reached out first, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to disrespect you or your boundaries. Looking back, I’m sure you probably felt the same way. I still admire the courage you had to do what you felt was necessary.

We talked on the phone for a while. You were telling those stories you used to tell when we were in bed. I’m sure that if I had closed my eyes and cuddled up in bed, I would feel exactly like I had on one of those nights we had.

“I hope this doesn’t make you uncomfortable.” You started. I could feel your anxiety through the phone an quickly remembered that we were no longer the same as before.

“I just want you to know that I’m still the most comfortable with you. This phone call, us talking, hearing your breathing. Although we’re different, I care about you just as much as I did before.” You finished.

I didn’t have much to say. I agreed and told you that I was always available for you in whatever way you needed. You told me the same. As afraid as I was, as heartbroken, as sure I was that you were the only person for me, I found comfort knowing you would always be around. Soulmates aren’t always romantic.

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theheavenlymoon · 3 years ago

Text

A flower’s growth 🌸

I just realized that Hanako is technically a self-insert oc because I use her for more than just twst i-

Also, this is my number one resource https://camp-halfblood-fanon.fandom.com/wiki/Hestia_Cabin

Its mentions one important thing that is critical in Hanako's back story. I'll show you the important thing but I recommend reading it all because its really interesting!

"i.e. Hestia takes some essence of a mortal man she takes a liking to and create her child by fire from the hearth with her essence fused to that mortal's. Hestia then proceeds to notify the father as she cannot raise the child." (13 in 'powers and traits')

Also to give you some visuals (I’ll explain the two boys later on)

So with that being said..let's👏talk👏trauma! More specifically Hanako's trauma.

(The writing style might change so just ignore it-)

WARNING: Suicidal thoughts

Virginal Goddesses like Hestia don't really have kids. Athena children are born from their mother's head. So how would a Hestia child be born? Let me explain.

A man caught Hestia's attention. He was compassionate and energetic and always tried to help when he could. Even though he had very little money, even though he had some hard times, he was still compassionate and that intrigued Hestia.

When he was more financial stable, Hestia decided to gift him a child. A perfect gift for a family man like him. Hestia took some of his essence and mixed it with her’s and with the help of some fire from the hearth, Hanako was born.

A small knock could be heard through the small house. Fumihito goes to open the door only for a baby to staring up at him while making cooing noises. Rapped in a purple blanket with flowers on it, the baby had a small name tag that said ‘Hanako’

“Welcome home Hanako.” The man said with a small smile

When Hanako was about 4, Fumihito married his best friend and moved to America. A few months later triplets were born. All of them being male. First is Kaji, Hinote, and Yakeru. Most people would think Hana would hate to have siblings, but it’s quite the opposite. Hanako was ecstatic to have siblings she could play with.

When she was told she was going to be a big sister and had to take her role seriously, that’s exactly what she did. She read the boys to sleep and keeped them entertained as best as she could. When they were a little older Hana liked to make them wear dress and have tea parties. In return she took part in everything the boys did. Sports, video games, music, art you name it she would try it at least once.

Hana grew in grace and compassion. She truly was a great balance between her parents. It was funny hearing advice that sounds like something a sage would give only for it to be a child talking. She was a bright, energetic girl and never could stay in one place for very long. She was very social and was friends with almost everyone in her school.

But some stories can’t always be fairytales and rainbows...

Hanako’s step-mother fell ill and passed away when she was about 10. Everyone was devastated but life doesn’t stop when people fall. So they didn’t either. Obviously they still mourned but they tried to have a positive outlook even though a family member is gone.

(Fast forward to where Hana is 11)

In the dead of night, when everyone was in a deep slumber, there’s a small crash. At the sound, Hana jerks up in a sweat. Call it intuition, but she had a horrible feeling something was going to go wrong.

She snuck into her brother’s rooms and hid them in a small closet in one of their rooms. As Hana was about to go wake her father she heard a noise. Hana turned around only to see a woman holding what look to be like a sword.

Without warning the woman grabbed Hana’s hair and threw her into a bookshelf. Hana let out a small shriek. The bookshelf itself was unstable and the added force made it fall. Luckily Hana was fast enough to move most of her body. Let’s just say her left leg wasn’t as lucky as her other limbs.

The woman had a feeling the father could come out any minute so she ran around the corner and waited for the perfect opportunity to strike

At the sudden noises that we’re going outside his room, Hana’s father slams the door open only to see Hana stuck under the unstable bookshelf.

In at state of panics he rushed over to her. “Hana are you alright?!?!” But Hana didn’t answer. She was to focused on the woman who was still behind the corner.

“I’m calling the police! Just hang on!” Fumihito yelled. After Fumihito called 911 he tried to move the bookshelf. While he was doing so the woman kept stalking closer. “DADDY LOOK OUT-“ but it was to late. In one swipe Fumihito’s head was cut clean off, his body falling limp right beside Hanako. No one in that neighborhood could ever forget the Bloodcurdling scream that came from Hanako’s house. Eyes wide with horror and despair Hana couldn’t keep her tears in.

Before the woman could do any more damage they heard police sirens. “We will meet again someday demigod.” And with that the woman disappeared.

After a full check of the house they concluded that only the children were left. Once they found Hana, nothing was left of the lively girl. After helping her get out from under the bookshelf the police immediately sent her to the hospital. The police told the triplets to pack stuff that was most important to them and follow the police. (The triplets also packed stuff for Hana as well. One of the things being a photo album of the family.)

The police concluded that the children didn’t have any other adults to care for them so they would have to be put in an orphanage. However there wasn’t an orphanage where they lived so they would have to be put in a new town.

It was hard adjusting to this new life. There was barely enough food for everyone, you had to share rooms with other kids. Hanako had to use crutches for a while until her leg healed. Her new school wasn’t that great either. Hana, not being as social as she once was, was bullied for being too quiet. Not to mention, no one had ever seen a kid with natural yellow eyes and violet hair.

From beating her almost to death, to threatening to cut her hair and gouge her eyes out because she was ‘too pretty’

On terms of Hana in general, she wasn’t acting like her normal self. She had gotten more reserved and became a cry baby. You could easily tell she had eye bags and her anxiety was always threatening to go through the roof. You can only assume those eye bags were because of nightmares from that night. She talked much quieter and always wore a frown with her eye brows scrunched in a worried way.

The other three were to young to understand what happened. The police had to lie to them saying “your dad is on a special trip right now.”

About 6 months later the triplets were adopted by a man who looked like he was the head of some company. Hana tried her best to run after them but the staff had to hold her back. All the while the three were screaming for her to come and save them.

What no one knew is that the triplets would be forced to become assassins. It’s not like they wanted to! The man said if they didn’t he would kill their sister! The night after the adoption they all made a promise to keep Hana safe no matter what.

So there Hana sat all alone on the swings of a play ground, with no one around to comfort her. Surrounded by people who have families and are happy. It’s like the universe was taunting her.

The only thing that didn’t change is her older sibling nature. Giving her food to the little ones. Playing dress up or soccer. Her smiles were always fake. Maybe to the blind eye she seems happy but some could easily tell she was anything but happy.

6 months later Hana finally gets her cast takin off. At this time Hanako is 12 and is at her breaking point. After another day of school, and another day of almost getting beat to death, something snaps inside of her.

(TRIGGER WARNING⚠️)

You have to understand, Hanako didn’t have anybody to talk to. Everyone was either to busy or didn’t bother to care. Which left her all by herself. It felt like she was trapped almost. No one there to listen or laugh with.

The scissors on her dresser looked quite tempting. The relief of not having to go through any more of this pain and loneliness was very appealing, but before she could touch them a huge gust of wind blew into her room. Taking the scissors away from her while she was distracted.

If that couldn’t work then running away would be the next best option. That night Hana packed her things (including the photo album) and drew out her plan. It was quite simple really.

She would skip school and go behind it, where a cliff is, to get a good view of where she could go from there.

After running around the school and into a forest, Hana reached a stream. Cupping some water to drink, Hana got caught up in how refreshing the water was. A snap of a branch snapped her out of her state and made her look around. That’s when she saw the manticore out of the corner of her eye.

Hana quickly got up and started backing away only to forget that there’s a cliff and slips. Plummeting to her presumed death tears start to seep out once again. Out of no where a boy that looks to be about 15, swoops in to save her, but the weirdest thing is that his shoes have wings on them, But she was to tired to care. So acting like she didn’t have a care in the world, she rapped her arms around him and snuggled into his neck.

The last thing she could make out was something like “ Let’s get out of here before that manticore decides it wants a 3 course Demi-god meal!” Or something like that.

When Hana woke up, she looked around and realized she was in an infirmary room. The same boy she saw was sleeping on the bed next to her. A knock on the door was heard, and in came girl who looked about the same age as the boy. “You two have been out for a while.” She said “I would’ve never suspected that a tiny demigod like you could cause so much trouble.” Hana looked confused “Do I know you? And what do you mean by demigod?” She asked.

The older girl let out a small chuckle before walking up an sitting next to Hana. “I’m Jane, daughter of Aphrodite! The reason why I called you a demigod is because, well... you’re half god half mortal.” The younger girl couldn’t believe her ears. “B-but how do we know I’m a demigod?” “Have you seen your other parent before? Can you never be in one place for to long? Those are all signs my dear, of course if you don’t believe me we can wait till your godly parent claims you as their kid.”

After that small encounter Jane took Hanako on a tour of where she’d be staying the whole summer. “W-why are we at a camp? And who was that boy w-who saved me?” The younger girl asked in a quiet voice. “This camp houses demigods, there a two from what everyone knows. One for Greek gods and one for Roman gods. The boy who saved you is my best friend Chase, he’s a child of Hermes! Speaking of Hermes, you’ll be staying in that cabin until your godly parent claims you.” The elder girl pointed at the Hermes cabin. “The gods have specific cabins for them and their children, and depending on your mom or dad you could end up housing with me or Chase.”

After the tour, there was dinner, after dinner it was time for everyone to sit around the big campfire. Everyone was laughing, talking, and telling stories. One kid asked Hana if she knew her godly parent yet, but before she could answer something flashed above her head.

The warm glow of a fireplace hung over her head. Everyone stopped talking, looking shocked. Hana was the first ever child of Hestia! From the back of all the campers you can hear someone yell “All hail Hanako! Daughter of Hestia!” And just like that everyone bowed.

After all that craziness, Hanako was escorted to her own cabin. She let out a small thank you before going inside. To her surprise there was a woman waiting inside, but this woman felt oddly familiar. Almost as if Hana saw her before! The woman turned around and said “We have quite a lot to catch up on, Hanako.” With a welcoming smile. Just like that Hana dropped her bag and ran to the woman. It didn’t take long to figure out that she was her godly parent.

That night the two girls talked and talked till midnight. That’s when Hestia tucked Hana into bed. For the first time in a year she finally felt happy, and that night she went to sleep wearing a smile. The next day Hana sat by a tree relaxing when suddenly two boy came out of nowhere! One had black hair, blue eyes, and he had some freckles on his nose. The other had light brown hair and cyan blue eyes and wore a black baseball hat.

“We h-heard you were the daughter of Hestia and w-we were w-wondering i-if you would like to-“ “What he’s trying to say, is that we wondering if you to be friends!” The brunette interrupted. “A-are you sure you want a crybaby like me to be your friend??” The boys looked at each other and smiled (the brunette smiling more brighter and the blackette smile more small)

They nodded and reached out their hands to her’s. At first she hesitated but quickly grabbed their hands, afraid they might disappear. When she grabbed their hand it was like weights were lifted off her chest. She never realized until now, how important friends and family are until recently . “I’m Xavier and the dork with the freckles is Kai!” “I AM NOT A DORK!! I’m just not that great when it comes to ladies!” “Right, Right.” The brunette said sarcastically. “Anyway my godly parent is Hermes and Kai’s Mother is Athena!”

Maybe thing we’re starting to take a turn for the better.

Once she met those two Hanako started coming out of her shell more. She was still quiet and anxious but it isn’t as bad as before. Not to mention she gets more loud and energetic with Xavier and Kai around!

Hanako HATES libraries and bookshelf. She’ll go in a library if she has to, but she avoids them as best she can. If she’s ever in a vicinity of a bookshelf she’ll distance herself as much as possible. Let’s just say she gets very anxious and nervous when she around them.

If you ever asked about Hana’s past she would never be ashamed to tell you what happened. She isn’t happy about the events that took place but there’s nothing she can do about it know. So know matter what Hanako always tries to keep her head up high when it comes to her past.

(More visuals)

🌸Some side notes here🌸

(Don’t mind the last one’s eyes being blue. I was trying to decide if I wanted to stick with yellow or try something new-)

(I can go more into depth on Hanako’s two besties if anyone would be interested)

(I’m also thinking of reintroducing her because the first one is her in twst but she’s like that in every fandom basically. Obviously I won’t delete the first one I just wanna talk about everything she’s in and what her relations are to everyone!)

#ocs #twst oc #jjk oc #twisted wonderland #obey me oc #demon slayer oc #twst #genshin impact oc #twst x reader

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jimmys-zeppelin · 3 years ago

Text

ghostin'

chapter ten

(table of contents)

(chapter nine)

april 3, 1976

help me

Ellie tried keeping her mind off of her potential situation after she got back home. As soon as she landed, she was at the doctor's office getting her blood drawn. The doctor said she'd have her results on Monday.

She observed how Jimmy had been acting in the 12 hours they were together before she left after their night out. It wasn't that he was on-edge, but he was definitely a little less than comfortable. And that was an understandable reaction considering how unexpected all this was.

She was separating, folding, and putting clothes away from her suitcase when the doorbell rang an incessant amount of times. Ellie knew it could only be one person with the insistence in which the doorbell rang.

The bell only stopped when Ellie finally yanked the door open, "Andrew, what the hell!" she joked. The dark-haired man nearly screamed with delight and engulfed the blonde in a hug.

"God, that was the longest fucking three weeks of my life! How was it? How'd it go? Did you break some beds?"

Ellie held her mouth agape for a second before laughing and ushering the man inside. He followed her back upstairs as they spoke, "No beds were broken, contrary to popular belief. But it went great. Jimmy said Charlotte really liked me after we stopped by a second time. And his daughter is so sweet."

"So you're cool with the family! Awesome. Now you know you'll probably be seeing more of them. Try not to catch the baby fever, though."

Ellie chuckled dryly at the statement, "You might be a little late on that one, Andrew."

"Listen, kids are cute, but when you actually have to take care of them, it's a hassle. Wait till you're old and wrinkly and you've already lived."

Her heart sank in her chest, would her life really be slowed down that drastically by a baby?

"El, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Can we not talk about babies right now?" She asked, pinching the bridge of her nose and crumpling up a shirt she had been holding, tossing it into her dirty clothes pile quite aggressively.

"Uh, oh. Seems like I hit a nerve. Did Jimmy say anything to you about having kids?"

"No, not exactly. He wasn't opposed to it. I just—I don't want to think about kids right now. Can we talk about something else?"

"Okay, fine I won't budge," he said, throwing his hands up in surrender before stammering in an attempt to find a new topic to talk about, "what was the house like?"

"It was beautiful. Huge. Like imagine my house but like ten times bigger. I know he doesn't need all those bedrooms."

"You two should've had sex in all of the rooms. A new room every night." Andrew said, almost excited at the prospect.

"What is it with your obsession in my sex life? Aren't you getting some?"

"It's a little hard for my scene of people, Ellie. And plus, it's not my fault your boyfriend is a total looker. I don't know how you don't just stare at him all day."

Ellie chuckled at the comment, "Well we did have a morning that we spent in bed. It was nice."

"You're keeping something from me. Ellie, we don't keep secrets."

"What do you—" Ellie tried to play off, only to enter a stare-down with her best friend. She kept eye contact for as long as she could before the dryness made her scrunch her eyes shut. "Fine! I am keeping something from you."

"And it is....?"

"I can't tell you just yet. But I will say one thing, I'm extremely worried about Jimmy. I walked into his office the other day because I was looking for something and there were just bottles. And drugs. All over the desk."

"What kind of drugs?" Andrew asked, leaning in.

Ellie folded up a skirt, putting it away in her drawer before answering, "heroin and coke."

"Heroin? I hear that shit is wack if you take too much. Was he shooting it?"

"He'd done at least three. He was completely zooted. Out of his mind. His arm looked like an inexperienced nurse trying to find a vein. Andrew, it was horrible."

"Oh, God. I can only imagine. I'm sorry, babe. What did he say when you saw him?"

"He didn't say anything. I got kind of mad at him afterwards because he knows I get worried when he uses the stuff. He tried to butter me up and say sorry, but I just kinda brushed him off."

"Aw, Ellie. Do you wanna go out tonight; get your mind off it?"

"I don't know...I don't really wanna drink this weekend."

"We don't have to drink." He shrugged.

Ellie eyed him suspiciously, "since when does 'going out' not consist of drinking?"

"I heard Queen's still in town. We could try to look for 'em. Maybe I can get Freddie to sign my chest." Andrew said, stroking his chest sensually.

"You sound like a groupie." she chuckled.

"Listen, you're the famous one, not me. I can be as whorish as I want."

With a roll of her eyes, Ellie picked up her hamper, walking off to the laundry room with it to get started on her clothes.

��

Later that evening, after Andrew had gone home, Ellie picked up the phone. She held it in her hand for a second before hanging up the receiver. Looking at the clock, the blonde noticed it was only 6pm. A drive would be nice. She thought to herself.

Grabbing her sunglasses and a coat—it was unusually cold for April—and took her keys from the table by the front door as she made her way over to her car.

Deciding she'd go down to West Hollywood and stop at her manager's office, Ellie took the long way and chose to take her time while driving.

Turning on the radio, she just caught the beginning of "Help Me" by Joni Mitchell. She turned the volume a bit louder and relaxed against the driver's seat; letting the California sun hit her face and a slight breeze come in through the window. She forgot about everything that'd been on her mind as she drove down the highway, taking in the music and bobbing her head along to the beat.

Taking a turn onto Santa Monica Boulevard, Ellie observed the tons of stores and people that littered the sidewalk. As she slowed to a stop at a red light, she took a look across the street to find a particular head of bleach-blond hair. Rolling down the window some more and pulling her sunglasses down, Ellie's suspicions were confirmed.

"Roger!" She exclaimed without thinking. Her heart dropped to her ass at the realization that she'd just publicly yelled at someone she'd only met twice before. "Shit." she whispered under her breath.

"Ellie?" Roger asked in response. He was visibly leaning over and lowering his own sunglasses to be able see the singer inside her car.

"I thought you went back home!" Ellie said, nervously glancing between Roger and the stoplight.

"No! I hung around! The guys went back home," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets, "I've been calling you!"

"I've been away! I should've told you! I just got back!"

Another glance at the light.

"Can I call you later?"

"Sure!" Ellie exclaimed when the loud blaring of a car horn behind her caused her to jump in her seat. She waved a quick goodbye to Roger before going on her way. It wasn't until she caught her breath that she realized she'd been holding it. She shook her head and took another deep breath, continuing down the street.

☆

"Carolyn'll see you now." The receptionist said. Ellie stood up, now with her coat and sunglasses off, she felt a bit more at ease. She said a quick thank you to the receptionist before letting herself into the office.

"Ellie! Sit down, babe." Carolyn said cheerfully. "You said April 1st."

"I got a little caught up in some personal stuff."

"I hope nothing too bad. You didn't overdo it on the blow did you?"

"No, no. I promise, Care. That's one thing you'll never have to worry about with me."

"I better not. Don't need you dying on me or anything. How was your trip?"

"It was great! Jimmy and I got some alone time, it was nice. I met his daughter. Absolute sweetheart."

"You didn't get knocked up, did you?" Carolyn asked, furrowing her brows at her.

Ellie practically jumped in her seat, her eyes widened, "No! I don't—why would you—?"

"Oh my God, you got knocked up didn't you? You were there for barely three weeks, Ellie!"

"I have an appointment with my doctor tomorrow. I'll call you as soon as I can to let you know how it went. I just don't want to think about it right now." Ellie sighed, not wanting to think about her worst fears for another second.

"Fine. Let's see if the record company needs anything from you." Carolyn replied, flipping through a notebook that was sitting on her desk before looking back up at her, "I need you to get a song out, or even an album. Tell me you did something other than screw around with your boyfriend on your trip."

"I started a song, then I kind of abandoned it when I had an idea for a different one...it's a bit personal so it'll definitely be on the slower side, I think." Ellie explained.

"Got a name?"

"Uhh, it doesn't have one yet."

"Is it finished?"

"Nearly."

"Alright, well. Finish it by this week and we can get you in the studio in two weeks."

"I'll try." Ellie replied.

☆

Ellie sat hunched over her songbook scribbling a few words down and crossing out others. She chewed on her pencil, staring at her thoughts on the page. The blonde hadn't thought about the song she'd written while at Jimmy's house in a while.

Trying to hum out the tune she'd created, Ellie was about to run and grab her guitar upstairs when the phone rang; this stopping her in her tracks. Detouring to the phone, she quickly picked it up off the receiver, "Hello?"

"Ellie?" the man on the other line asked, his voice identifiable immediately as Roger's.

"Hi, Roger." she said, the smile on her face audible in her voice.

"Hey, how've you been?" he asked. "You went missing for a bit there."

"Yeah, I'm doing okay, I went to England with Jimmy for a few weeks. He played host for me for once." She joked, twirling the phone cord in her fingers.

"Oh wow, was it your first time?"

"No, not at all. I go back to visit him quite often, actually. When I'm not busy, of course."

"Right, right. Uhhh, listen, I was about to grab a bite to eat. Did you want to come with me by any chance? Unless you've eaten already, then it's a redundant question." Roger added quickly to the end of his invitation.

Ellie hesitated at her answer, although she didn't know why, "...Sure! Yeah, I was just gonna wind up making some macaroni and cheese anyway, so, I guess it's better to go get an...actual meal." She replied. Her answer was painfully awkward and she physically cringed at her response.

"Okay, great! So I'll come by in a few to pick you up. Say, 8:30 ish, if that's okay with you?"

She glanced at the clock, 7:55pm. "Yeah, that's fine. I'll see you then!"

The two said their goodbyes and hung up. Then, when Ellie started on her way upstairs—again—the phone rang again. It was Roger, realizing he'd never asked for her address. They had a laugh about it before Ellie told him the information and she went to get ready.

---

masterlist | playlist

Taglist: @diaryofafan17 @tophats-n-lespauls @witchesdust @jonesyjonesyjonesy @paginate54 @hejustsatisfiess @salixfragilis @princesspagey @reincarnated70sbaby @rebel-without-a-zeppelin @kyunisixx if you want to be added to the list lmk!

2-12-21

7-13-21

#ghostin'#jimmy page #led zeppelin #roger taylor #queen #roger taylor fanfiction #roger taylor fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #jimmy page fanfic

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