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biteyoubiteme · 6 months ago

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redlightdesign

fem!reader x hyunjin

synopsis: you get tattooed by your favorite tattoo artist.

warnings: !!!🔞!!! tattooartist!hyunjin, tattooing, needles, pain, oral (f!rec), use of teeth, overstim, multiple orgasms (f!rec), squirting, fingering, pussydrunkvibes, subspace kinda, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 5.2k

an: I want a new tattoo </3 feedback appreciated! [m.list] not proof read sorry ;-;

You didn’t think you would ever get a consolation let alone an appointment with redlightdesign. For over three years you have been submitting a request anytime their books were open. You set timers for when the form dropped to make sure you were one of the first to be seen but everyone was doing the exact same thing.

redlightdesign would make an announcement that the submissions were closed an hour later saying they were booked solid for the next three months. The process repeats itself and every time you pray you get a response.

Thirteen forms later and you finally got an answer. Your dream tattoo will be underway in a matter of weeks. You made sure to keep the perfect space open for the piece. Not a single artist is the right fit to do your idea justice the way Redlightdesign could.

Before you read the email you didn’t even think you would ever be picked, your thigh would just always be bare for the possibility that never would come to fruition. But sitting in a coffee shop on a Sunday morning avoiding finishing your homework for Monday's class you jump on the opportunity to check your phone when it dings. Post notifications for redlightdesign on since you started following them. Every time they announced open books or a dropped appointment you jumped to put yourself up for the running. You remember the magazine article Redlightdsign had been featured in that started your obsession. The anonymous tattoo artist is based in Seattle and New York, traveling across the states to get a wider audience. Not that they needed the help, they were globally known, with people submitting forms all around the world, purchasing plane tickets after they confirmed an appointment.

It was stiff competition and the anonymity of the artist was sacred to each client. There was barely any information about Redlightdesign on the internet besides the finished product, and the address to their studios was only given out just before your appointment. Once the details of the New York studio had been doxxed online and redlightdesign had stopped working for a year, packing up and shutting down in well deserved retaliation. When they came back to their socials they made it clear the next time they wouldn't stop for a year but quit entirely. No one shared any information after, only stating that Redlightdesign was one of the nicest people they have ever been tattooed by and a photo of the beautiful work after.

But there sipping on an almost empty drink avoiding work that needed to be done you felt your pulse race just like every other time you've submitted a form. Only this time your stomach bottomed out seeing the email that popped up in your inbox a few minutes later.

h.rldesign/gmail.com Hi, I love your idea and sketches. I think this would transfer perfectly in my style. If we are to do the piece on the thigh at the size you want I think it's best we split the work into two appointments. My open slots for this would be January 9th and 10th. Let me know if these dates work for you and then I can get started on designing and cleaning up your idea. -redlightdesign

even just knowing their email address was shocking enough, seeing a response could have sent you into a coma. If Redlightdesign needed you on the 9th and 10th you would do everything in your power to be right at their door. You didn't care if you had to call in sick, you would put on the most convincing fake cough known to man; you would sell out stadiums with the performance if need be.

You couldn't type a response fast enough, needing to send in a confirmation just to know it was solidified. Within seconds you got a link for a deposit to hold the dates and a promise that Redlightdesign would be working on your piece asap. You were too excited to even think about your work anymore, sitting in the coffee shop staring down at your phone in disbelief.

It was only a few days later when the first drafts of the tattoo you would be getting were sent over for you to approve. You could tell the work had been drawn in a sketchbook and scanned to send in an email, the charcoal lines and highlights showing the detailed work. It was everything you could have hoped for, redlightdesign taking the amateur rendering of your idea and turning it into the masterpiece sitting in your inbox. They promised to have perfected versions ready when you arrived early on the ninth, reminding you that they would transfer it into the stencil and use a pen to finish drawing the finishing touches to make sure it flowed with your body just right. Make sure to eat before the appointment and don't wear any lotions on the tattoo area. Take care to remember we can take as many breaks as you want you have the day booked up with me so no need to rush through just to get it over with.

You made sure to dress appropriately. A pair of shorts you didn’t mind getting ink on in case any decided to ruin them. It was cold the morning of the ninth, a drizzle setting in as you made your way towards the address you had been sent before you had woken up. Even just seeing the street name and knowing this whole time you’ve been a fifteen-minute walk away from Redlights studio was bizarre. How many times have you driven by the building without ever knowing?

The email with the address had said the door would be open and to take the stairs up to the loft. The separate space on the ground level was a bakery, the sign flipped to closed. But as you felt the first droplets of rain you pulled on the handle for the door only for it to not budge. You check the address again to make sure it is right, you can see the windows to the studio above but the curtains are pulled shut. You were running over the email you could send to redlightdesign, reading it over once more when someone reached past you making you jump. “holy shit you almost gave me a heart attack,” you breathe your phone pressed to your chest.

The soft laugh of the person beside you is muffled behind the black medical mask they wear, long dark hair hanging on their brow leaving only smiling eyes glancing over you. “I'm sorry I was running late and didn't make it in time to beat you here,” they push their key into the lock twisting until it clicks, painted nails wrapping around the handle to hold the door open for you.

You give a weak thanks stepping into the little hallway leading to the stairs waiting for them to step in and follow.

You're trying hard not to make it seem like you're staring at them but it's almost impossible not to. Right in front of you is the person whose identity has been hidden from the public for years. You've tried to imagine what redlightdesign looked like since you read that magazine article. Now with the early morning mist still stuck to their hair you were seconds away from knowing exactly what they were like. Watching how their long fingers flipped over the keys looking for the one to unlock the loft door, how they used their shoulder to push open the door turning back to give you smiling eyes, waving you in.

They moved around to pull open the long cream-colored curtains, the gray light pouring in revealing the space. The walls have tacked up charcoal drawings, painted landscapes, and oil pastel flowers. A worn brown leather couch pushed to one side, heavy white blanket pushed back like someone had taken a nap there against the throw pillows. Tattoo bed next to rows of inks and past designs. On another wall a cluster of polaroids, stepping closer you can see its every tattoo that redlightdesign has done here. You're excited to see ones they haven't posted on their socials, so distracted you don't hear a closet door opening and the wheeling of a cart behind you. “I wanted to be set up so we could get started right away but,” when you turn you see them shrug. The view outside of the waterfront off in the distance matches some of the paintings done during different times of the day.

“It's okay I can wait, we're booked all day right?”

“yes that's right,” they go through their bag pulling out a large sketchbook, “here take a seat and we can go over some of these together,”

they sink into the couch pushing back the blanket to make room for you to follow. Your thighs touching before they hand over the sketchbook. You're amazed by the craftsmanship, and the detail put into each variety of the tattoo idea you have given them. No other artist has given you so many possibilities, maybe one of two but a whole spread dedicated to small details was never on the table. redlightdesign had taken time working through this with passion. “Wow,” you breathe not knowing where to look first.

“do you like it? It's a big thing, a tattoo of this size, and I wanted to make sure it really had all the elements you wanted in it while also not being too chaotic and messy. You see this one has less shading and seems more open but this one is heavy-handed if you're into that kinda style. I see you have other work done on your arms and if you want to go that way style-wise I think this one would be perfect,” they point at the one you've been focused on knowing that it was exactly what you wanted.

“It's amazing, they all are, I'm so impressed redli-“

“Hyunjin, you can call me Hyunjin,” they chuckle, “I should have introduced myself earlier but I was late and it slipped my mind I'm sorry,”

“no, it's okay thank you hyunjin,” you try the name in your mouth, “I think this is exactly what I want, better than what I could have imagined,”

“great I'm happy to impress let me get this printed in a stencil and we can add anything else after we find the right placement,” you watch as they stand moving to the corner with a desk, you can't see their face but know they've taken their mask off as they turn on the printer. “Do you live around here or was it a commute?”

“oh I live right up the street, I was surprised to see how close it was to my place actually,” you say over the sound of the scanner.

“that's good, sometimes I have people coming from all over it's fun to finally have a local visit,”

“I would have come out to New York if that's where you would have been,” you admit.

“I haven't been out there in a while, they are doing construction on the street the studio is on so I've been located here for a while now,” he states pulling out the stencil sheet. “I did a few different sizes to start with,”

he turns around and you're shocked at how beautiful Hyunjin is. In all the time you've thought about redlightdesign never did it cross your mind to account for prettiness but if you did your scale would be broken. You're still seated when he comes over and kneels in front of you.

“Can I?” he asks looking up at you, your hands in your lap covering your thighs.

“oh yeah sure,” you're flustered lifting your hands away.

“left or right?” he asks, holding two of the stencils over each leg.

“right,” your hands sinking into the couch as Hyunjin wipes his thumb over your bare thigh. He shows you the three different sizes and you decide on one before he asks you to stand in front of the mirror so he can place the stencil on.

“Here,” he mutters, being gentle to get the placement right in the first go. “We can always print more if you don't like it here,” he blows cool air over the purple lines traced on to make sure it's dry enough for you to move. He slides his hand behind the pit of your knee tugging your leg. You reach out to steady yourself with his shoulders, the backs of your hands feeling the tickle of his long hair hanging past his ears. He lifts your leg enough so that your foot is resting on his thigh, his hands slipping over your skin checking it looks good.

You love the way he's found the perfect spot on your thigh so that it flows with your body, “I think you got it first try,”

“Look in the mirror first just to make sure,” he lets you go, pulling himself to stand behind you so that you can see yourself.

“yes it's perfect,” and he nods, grabbing a purple pen.

“finishing touches then,” he gets back down in front of you lifting your foot back to his knee so that he can steady you. The marker is cold on your skin as he draws, adding lines and shading in spots to make the work blend better. When he blows on the wet lines of ink you shiver especially when he draws on your inner thigh, your skin so sensitive you swear you could imagine his fingers tracing shapes instead of the pen. “Perfect,” he states, giving your knee a tap letting you know he's done. “Let me set up and if you need the bathroom before we start I'd go now. I have water and a kettle for coffee over under the desk, and we can stop for lunch around let's say twelve or one-ish?”

You nod, taking your seat on the tattoo bed. He's set it up so that you're slightly leaned back but still sitting up. You watch him pull on black gloves and get all of the inks and needles ready, following a system you've seen done before. He clicks on a stereo the soft song playing in the background just loud enough for us to talk if we wanted to or just to listen. you adjust in your seat when you hear the sound of the tattoo gun whirring, hyunjins free hand stretching your skin in preparation, “The hard part will be around the knee so let's get that area out of the way,”

you nod watching as he starts, the familiar burn of the needle digging in but not too painfully. He was right that it was worse than some of your other tattoos but not unbearable. What distracts you is how concentrated he looks leaning over your leg, hair pushed back behind his ears but one strand hangs across his forehead, the corner of his lip between his teeth.

He starts to ask you small questions about yourself, the conversation leading to learning about him and how he got into tattooing. He talks about his art and the little things he likes. Both of you are so invested in one another that you don't even notice how far you've come in the day, lunch already rolling around before you know it. He's gotten through more than half the outline when he starts the loose wrap to keep it clean while you go out for lunch. The bakery is just downstairs offering lunch deals you can't refuse and when you get back upstairs both of you sit on the couch and continue your conversation. Giggling over nothing much but being comfortable in each other's company more than what you could have asked for.

redlightdesign could have been a total dick but you were blessed enough to get someone so genuinely kind and talented. And when you got back in the chair to finish the day's session you were sad to know that tomorrow would be the last time you saw Hyunjin unless you somehow got another appointment. The idea in it of itself was making you dread leaving.

“Could you tie my hair up?” he asks lifting his wrist up to you, a hair band waiting for you to take off. You lean over taking the tie from him and running your fingers through the dark strands. He hums as you brush the hair from his face gathering it all to tie into a ponytail. “thank you,” he nods letting the end bob up and down, a sweet smile teasing his lips before he goes back to the linework.

When he finally declares you done for the day you sigh, his thumb smoothing over the ends of the tape he's put to hold the wrap he put over your thigh. His finger slips across your inner thigh making you jolt harder than when the needle was to your skin. “sensitive?” he asks and you nod, not wanting to think too much into it. You were definitely sensitive but not from the pain, watching his long fingers work over your skin didn't put the cleanest image in your head.

He starts to break down his workstation, cleaning up and wiping everything to disinfect. While you put on your coat he asks, “Do you want to get dinner?” you turn to make sure he is not on the phone but he is in fact asking you, “I know this great spot a block over it's not that far a walk if you're up for it?”

“Sure,” you nod and he rubs the back of his neck.

“You know if you're not busy or anything I don't usually ask clients out for dinner but we were having a good chat and you know if you don't want to,” he drags on his ears pink, it was cute to watch him flustered.

“I'd love to go to dinner with you hyunjin,” you smile following him out.

You share an umbrella as you make your way to the small cafe-style restaurant, outdoor seating covered with a canopy so you won't get hit by any rain. Sitting across from one another, Hyunjin asks to see your other tattoos. You lay one arm down on the table, hyunjins fingertips ghosting over your skin as he traces the lines of all your other work. “I think I've seen this one before, did you get it from Felix? Or what's his username…”

“youg.ink?” you nod, “I actually got it because I saw you mentioned them before and it introduced me to their work. instantly fell in love with this when he offered it up,”

hyunjins not even paying attention to the tattoos anymore as he lets his fingers glide over your smooth skin. Most times after a client was done for the day in his chair he walked them to the door, waved goodbye, and worked in the studio on the next person's design. Most times he had people who he didn't mind not seeing again but you and your laugh, your gentle conversation, made him want to break his own rules for once. He walks you home after dinner and promises to see you tomorrow at the same time.

When you show up for your second session you're double fisting two iced coffees; the door is already unlocked as you make your way up the stairs. Hyunjin is sitting at the desk with headphones on sketching away before he sees the movement in the corner of his eye. He gives you a big smile, all teeth and is so cute. He tugs his headphones off letting them hang around his neck, “you got me a coffee?”

“Maybe or maybe I have a caffeine addiction,” you joke, handing over his cup. You look over to see what he's working on and he leans back to give you a better view.

“The next client wants their back done, it will be spaced out over the next four months. first sessions tomorrow,”

“I wouldn't even know where to start on something that big,”

“the same way I started yours,” he looks down at your legs, the wrap still in place only today you're wearing a skirt instead of shorts. The only other clothing item you felt would give him space to work today. Hyunjin looks back to his sketchbook, shutting it and standing. “let's get you up on the chair and get started,”

you follow his instructions, sinking back into the chair and letting your skirt bunch between your legs to expose your thigh. Hyunjin starts to set up his station, pulling on his gloves after flipping to the sketch of your design to have to glance at while he works. “might hurt today with all the shading if you need any breaks let me know we can go as slow as you need,” he peels away the tape before cleaning your leg with a towel and watered down soap. “It already looks good,” he nods, pressing around the tattoo.

“I think I can handle it,”

“Okay, we can work the bottom to the top again today, get the area closest to the knee and get the most painful bit first,”

and you think you can handle it and you can for the most part but the dragging of the needle over the still red outline from yesterday is painful today. Your hand bunching in your skirt as you remind yourself to breathe. You let your head roll back in the chair not able to watch anymore, focusing on the music playing, the dull hum of the tattoo gun usually comforting you but now a reminder that you're here for a while.

hyunjin is trying to concentrate, he's great at what he does, but what's testing him is how you're flashing your panties at him. he was going to say something, bring up a conversation about anything but when he looked up, a simple glance he was face to face with the dark grey fabric, the outline of you silencing him. You didn't even notice, your neck exposed as your free hand not holding your skirt gripped the armrest.

Tattooing people made nudity and almost nudity normal. It was why Hyunjin preferred his private studio so that he could make people feel comfortable, it was better than having someone who wanted a hip tattoo strip in a shop where anyone could watch. But with you sitting in front of him he forgot that he shouldn't look so close. Because instead of ignoring the view he was imagining ways that he could make your pain more bearable. Imagining how if he reached over and brushed where he knew your clit would be waiting you wouldn't be moaning in pain.

It's not until lunch that your skirt is let go but it's done the work of keeping Hyunjin hard for the entirety of the progress he's made toward the tattoo. When he sprays the tattoo down with the soapy water beads roll back up your leg because of the way the chairs are angled. The cold water feels great against your hot skin and Hyunjin apologizes for the mess passing you a paper towel to wipe any that got too far. You slightly lift your leg to wipe your inner thighs, the movement flashing Hyunjin again only this time the droplets of water had dampened your panties. The gray fabric was dark where he had been fantasizing they would be.

He doesn't even want to think about standing from his stool knowing that the second he does he will have to adjust himself only drawing attention to the fact he is very hard. He tries to make a list of things in his head as he wraps your thigh. To think about how it's almost over, that you will be gone in the next hour or two but that only makes it worse. You would be gone when he was this needy? He wanted to make an excuse to have you come back for another session. But it was quite obvious he would be dragging out the appointment when he only needed to do a small section when the two of you were done with lunch. He could have waited and finished, pushed your lunch back, and waved goodbye but no.

He swiveled his chair away from you, taking a sip from his almost empty cup of coffee as you slid down the bed to stand. Hyunjin takes a breath and prays you don't notice but it's the first thing you see when he turns, the strained outline not very well hidden. You pretend to look out the window, feeling your cheeks get hot. All you can think about is if it was your noises that did it, all the whimpering wasn't usually how you handled tattoos but this one was the biggest piece you've gotten, and didn't know two sessions would make your usually composed self break so easily. it would explain the silence compared to yesterday. So you toy with the idea, how far would he go if you made yourself available?

You grabbed lunch together, hyunjin putting a pillow over his lap to steady his plate of food but both of you knew that wasn't the real reason. And when you were back in the chair you intentionally let your skirt roll up this time. It doesn't help that he's now working on the part of the tattoo closest to your center, how he wraps his hand around your thigh, pushing your legs further apart to reach a spot on your inner thigh. Gloved fingers brushing over your panties for the smallest second, your hips sinking into the seat to keep yourself from moving. Hyunjin noticed but needed to get through the rest of the tattoo, if he stopped now he wouldn't know when he would start again. Your lip between your teeth he watched as you tried to close your legs again to block your exposed panties, now wet with your slick and nothing else. He could see the spot and almost ripped his gloves off as soon as he finished his work. But now he was teasing you. Cleaning the tattoo down and wiping it down. He doesn't even bother with the normal photos he would take right away instead putting on the second skin to protect the tattoo. As he smooths the thin film over your inner thigh he lets his fingers slip up brushing against your center to see your reaction.

Your head rolls to your shoulder watching him through your lashes as he takes off his gloves and tosses them on the cart. He lifts the armrest on the tattoo chair before reaching behind your knees to pull you to the edge of the seat so your legs are dangling off the side. “how is it someone can make the prettiest sounds and sit so still for me?” he leans down and plants a kiss on your tattooless thigh, “because all I could think about was how I wanted to see your legs shaking for me while you whined like that,”

you tried to draw your knees together but he was in the way, kissing up your inner thigh, nipping at your skin with his teeth. When he reached your skirt he flipped it up with a lazy hand giving you no time before his thumb was over your clit rubbing a harsh circle over the fabric. You felt the shock run up to your stomach, your voice breathy as you whimpered his name. He followed the wet line down the front of your panties before hooking his finger along the seam to pull them back. He wanted one taste, needed one taste but knew he wouldn't stop at just one, not when you looked this edible and ready for him.

He ravages your clit, your hands shooting to his head burying your fingers in his hair as he sucks. He's careful of your tattoo but your other thigh is fair game for him to wrap his arm around and push you open, fingers bruising with how he spreads you. His free hand prodded your entrance, circling in your wetness before slipping in knuckle deep. “Hyunjin,” you whine, your hips rocking against his lips, feeling the build up of your orgasm. He curls his fingers pressing up into you enough to make your legs jerk from the new angle.

You're seeing spot before too long, hips stuttering as he gives a final hard suck, fingers still as you clench around them. You're moaning so loud you're sure someone will hear but you don't even care. Hyunjin doesn't stop the flick of his tongue against your clit making you cry out, “I said I wanted to see them shake,” devilish smile covered in your slick before he latches on to your clit again. Fingers pumping in and out of you before he presses deeper into you. You can feel tears at the corners of your eyes, and when he pulls away slightly to let his teeth brush your clit you're done for, legs trembling as you cum. He is persistent and you have to tug his head away, a slight smile stuck on his wet lips as he watches your body shake from the overstimulation. “once more?”

“I can't- I can't do it,” you shake your head but he drags his fingers out slowly before inching them back in, your hips jumping.

“I know you can, you've been doing so good for me already, one more time won't hurt,” he hums, dipping his nose down to brush over your nub. Jolting at the feeling he turns his head to kiss your inner thigh, slowly building up speed with his fingers, “can't you do just one more?” it's the way he asks so softly, the heavy gaze under heavier eyelids that makes you nod.

You're so sensitive that one lick has you shaking, your orgasm feeling so far and yet so close all at once. His tongue laps through your folds circling your clit. Hyunjin is obsessed with the taste of you, completely under the spell of your pussy and how it responds to his touch. He could go all night eating you out, watching as you fell apart again and again before him. Your cries are getting louder and before you know it your back is arching into him almost coming off the seat, your orgasm so intense you don't expect the clear fluid to squirt out of you until it has.

You're breathing so labored you place a hand over your chest to try and calm yourself. hyunjins pleased grin is the only thing you see before he pulls his fingers out of you and sticks them in his mouth to clean them. Every once in a while your legs jerk from an aftershock, the delight in his eyes worth how tired you feel. Your thighs are sticking to the leather seat under you as Hyunjin pulls your underwear back into place leaning down to leave a ghost of a kiss over your clothed clit. “next time I want you to cry this pretty for my cock okay?”

#hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #seungmin #kpop smut #bang chan #lee felix #lee know #han jisung #i.n skz #changbin #stray kids smut #stray kids #stray kids hyunjin #skz #skz smut #hyunjin stray kids #hyunjin smut #Hyunjin smut #hyunjin skz

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hotvintagepoll · 8 months ago

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Propaganda

Jane Fonda (Barbarella, Sunday in New York, Barefoot in the Park)—Feminist icon, LGBTQ+ rights activist since the 70s, Civil Rights and Native American rights advocate, environmentalist… she really is THE woman ever

Rita Hayworth (Gilda, Cover Girl)—Absolutely, drop-dead gorgeous. She steals every movie she’s in; she was Fred Astaire’s favorite dance partner, as you can see in clips from their movies [link][link]. Born Margarita Carmen Cansino, Rita's story had its tragedies—her father was awful and had her performing in nightclubs way, way too young; the studio totally remade her look because they were afraid of her hispanic image, putting her through painful treatments and diets; she had a string of failed marriages. But beside all that, I think there's something about Rita that still glows through—an inner beauty that has nothing to do with the studio, or the men who pinned their dreams on her. Rita brings an incandescence to roles that's impossible to replicate, and was truly a great actress in that she could switch from herself—shy Margarita—into a bold and glamorous femme fatale so convincingly everyone fell in love with her as Gilda. She's my favorite movie star, and I think she was a beautiful human through and through—Rita, gorgeous and real and shining bright.

This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Jane Fonda:

" I assume she's already been submitted but I gotta make sure. I think there's an element to movies like Barbarella or her segment of Spirit of the Dead of those having been directed by her husband, who famously made movies about her being hot, and the incredible costume design also helped, but good lord. Look at her"

"She was so pretty, dear lord! She was and still us stunning. She’s great at comedy and drama."

"Shes so hot im so gay for me i will let her hit me with hers car"

"Gorgeous and also still getting arrested at climate protests, which is sexy behavior"

"Watching her in Barefoot in the Park seriously made me, a straight woman, question things"

"PLEASE I LOVE HER SO MUCH"

"Her vibes in these movies are so interesting because she, the daughter of an Old Hollywood star, went on to make both poignant dramatic movies and the some of the silliest things you've ever seen but even in the silly space adventures and sexploitations there's always this undeniable gravitas to her. It's like she's able not to take herself very seriously but at the same time never stops having this grace and elegance and makes it all work together. And she's always been very politically active which is also sexy. Her famous mugshot is from 1970 so right at the cutoff mark but come on"

Rita Hayworth:

Do you need any other propaganda? Here’s the video.

youtube

She was not called "the love goddess" for nothing: beautiful, glamorous, despite playing sexy and provocative roles her inherent shyness somehow also would shine through sometimes, creating this contradictory and incredibly attractive image

Often played "the bad girl" who tempted the male hero away from "the good girl"; but did have roles that broke her out of that mold. She was also the inspiration for Jessica Rabbit. THE pinup girlie.

HELP

youtube

She was soo beautiful when she was young and she MAINTAINED that beauty into her later years and I think that old lady glamour is hot. bombastic sex appeal

every line she delivers in gilda is so flirty and passionate or absolutely desolate and it's so good

I just have a lot of feelings about her

#rita hayworth #jane fonda #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 5 #Youtube

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doyoulikethissong-poll · 11 months ago

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Nirvana - The Man Who Sold the World 1993

"The Man Who Sold the World" is the title track of David Bowie's third studio album, which was released in 1970 in the US and in 1971 in the UK. Although no singles were issued from the album, the song appeared as the B-side on the 1973 reissue US single release of "Space Oddity" and UK single release of "Life on Mars?".

In his journals, Kurt Cobain of the American grunge band Nirvana ranked the album The Man Who Sold the World at number 45 in his top 50 favourite albums. Nirvana subsequently recorded a live rendition of the song during their MTV Unplugged appearance at Sony Music Studios in New York City on 18 November 1993 and it was included on their MTV Unplugged in New York album released on November 1, 1994, nearly seven months following the death of Cobain. The song was also released as a promotional single for the album in 1995.

Nirvana's cover received considerable airplay on alternative rock radio stations and was also placed into heavy rotation on MTV, peaking at number 3 on MTV's most played videos on 18 February 1995; it also peaked for two weeks at number 7 on Canada's MuchMusic Countdown in March 1995. Nirvana regularly covered the song during live sets after their MTV Unplugged performance up until Cobain's death. In 2002, the song was re-released on Nirvana's self-titled "best of" compilation.

Bowie said of Nirvana's cover: "I was simply blown away when I found that Kurt Cobain liked my work, and have always wanted to talk to him about his reasons for covering 'The Man Who Sold the World'" and that "it was a good straight forward rendition and sounded somehow very honest." Bowie called Nirvana's cover "heartfelt", noting that "until this [cover], it hadn't occurred to me that I was part of America's musical landscape. I always felt my weight in Europe, but not [in the US]." In the wake of its release, Bowie bemoaned the fact that when he performed the number himself, he would encounter "kids that come up afterwards and say, 'It's cool you're doing a Nirvana song.' And I think, 'Fuck you, you little tosser!'"

At a pre–Grammy Awards party on 14 February 2016, Nirvana band members Krist Novoselic, Dave Grohl, and Pat Smear teamed up with Beck to perform "The Man Who Sold the World" in tribute to Bowie – who had died the month before — with Beck performing vocals.

"The Man Who Sold the World" received a total of 77,6% yes votes! Dave Grohl has previously been featured in the polls with Foo Fighter's "The Pretender" at #111 and as a drummer on Queens of the Stone Age's "No One Knows" at #87, and David Bowie has been featured with "I'm Afraid of Americans" at #33.

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#finished #high votes #high yes #high reblog #90s #70s #nirvana #david bowie #dave grohl

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andrevasims · 4 months ago

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JCR's: CC-Free Community Lot

Jazz, Country, Rock, and other music for uplifting... epicureans.

Another 2x2 downtown-themed community lot from me, this time inspired by CBGB, the punk music venue that was in New York City.

Most of the exterior is just facades to emulate the interconnected buildings of New York, but in order to squeeze in a few more things without making it too small, I used the space that looks like it belongs to other buildings for the bathroom & a diner food stand.

Obviously the performing stage is very small, but I playtested it and sims are able to not only successfully use all the instruments, but the tip jar for every single instrument is also accessible to other sims. The guitar being at a 45 degree angle helps with the accessibility, because objects at that angle tend to become invisible to sim routing, so they just walk right through it.

1st/Ground Floor

Value: §146,720 | Size: 20x20 | Zone: Community

DOWNLOAD: SFS | MF

#sims 2 cc #ts2cc #s2cc #ts2 download #sims 2 download #my cc #download: lot #download: community lot #grunge sims #downtown sims

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cosmicanger · 12 days ago

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“Art Is. . ., 1983, a joyful performance in Harlem’s African-American Day Parade, September 1983, was, from the point of view of the work’s connection with its audience, O’Grady’s most immediately successful piece. It’s impetus had been to answer the challenge of a non-artist acquaintance that “avant-garde art doesn’t have anything to do with Black people.” O’Grady’s response was to put avant-garde art into the largest Black space she could think of, the million-plus viewers of the parade, to prove her friend wrong. It was a risk, since there was no guarantee the move would actually work. As a Black Boston Brahman cum Greenwich Village bohemian, with roots in West Indian carnival, for O’Grady the Harlem marching-band parade was alien territory. But the performance was undertaken in a spirit of elation which carried over on the day. Unlike the disappointment she’d felt with Mlle Bourgeoise Noire and The Black and White Show, this piece was to be about art, not about the art world. . . rather than an invasion, it was more a crashing of the party.

Although she had received a grant from the New York State Council on the Arts to do the piece, she decided not to broadcast it to the art world. She wanted to it to be a pure gesture, she told friends, in the style of Duchamps (whose work she had been teaching at SVA for several years). But this may also have been insulation against further frustration, a way to strengthen the sense of freedom.

The 9 x 15 ft. antique-styled gold frame mounted on the gold-skirted float moved slowly up Adam Clayton Powell Boulevard, framing everything it passed as art, and the 15 young actors and dancers dressed in white framed viewers with empty gold picture frames to shouts of “Frame me, make me art!” and “That’s right, that’s what art is, WE’re the art!” O’Grady’s decision was affirmed.“

Rest In Power, Lorraine O’Grady

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m0chisenpai · 4 months ago

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Hey 👋 Can you do a Louis fic where after he and Armand break up, he doesn’t get back with Lestat and moves on or tries for a better healthier relationship with her/reader?

seal the cracks

˚｡⋆ louis de pointe du lac x black!fem!reader

in which Louis begins to fill the neglected cracks of his relationships

As Louis stares into the crack of the wall, he find your eyes in the debri. he sees the same brokeness as the eyes that stared at him. Broken and beautiful.

Not even Armand's words could convince you to say after the carnage that Louis caused.

He needed to find you. He needed to apologize.

His eyes fall shut and his mind opens to the voices.

"This is the vampire Louis De Pointe Du Lac, searching for the vampire Y/N L/N."

Conversation contiues to overlap, until one voice alls to him. It is hoarse, "she is a ghost. By night she comes out, slaughtering dozens. Then she seals herself away till the hunger can not be bared ny longer."

"No!" a feminine voice hisses, "she fled to Russia! There is a coven there that speaks of her briefly."

More rumors fill him with dead end leads til he hisses, "enough." silencing the voics he sits on the couch. Elbows on his knees, hands in his face.

You could be anywhere. you could be dead. That thought makes ice fill his veins. But one of his workers tell him his ride is here. Ready to take him to the meeting place.

When Louis steps out of the car, he is met with the owner, happily telling him of all his establishment has to offer. But it’s like a fly in his ear as he enters the elevator. Twenty floors felt like a lifetime until he reaches the rooftop which would be filled any other night. But thanks to his financial pull, it is completely empty. Save for the one body sitting at a seatette overlooking the city.

Your body is still, and Louis takes his time to approach slowly, he sees the gleam off your bare shoulders. Admires how the olive little cocktail dress accentuates your body. What should he say? He can feel the rage, the grief. All of the dark murkyfeelings roll over him. As much as you hate him, he is your maker. And he feels you deeply and completely.

He dares to take the seat beside you, giving you the space you deserve. Your head moves just enough to look him in the eye. Your eyes are gray, nearly so light you looked like your eyes were blank white. But the faint streaks of blue make them pop.

“Hello.”

Louis echoes back, “hello.”

“I trust the flight here went well?”

“It did,” you experienced first class in all its beauty and comforts. Not the first time, but from the moment you left your home to landing in Dubai every little thing was covered for you. At first in your pettiness you intended to waste every bit of his money.

Buying obscene five star meals that you tossed. Glasses of champagne, an entire new wardrobe. You waited for him to chew you out as he did all those years ago. But not once did he respond.

“I want to talk about San Francisco.”

“Ah yes,” you pick up a golden case, pulling a cigarette out to settle between your lips. “Do you mind?” He shakes his head. Focusing on the cigarette and it flickers a little. You take a slow drag, tilting your head to blow it into the night air.

“Didn’t know you smoked.”

You look to him, “always have. You just never noticed.”

Louis can recall the first time he and Armand met you. You were a bartender in the city trying to make ends meet to make it to New York. You wanted to perform on the big stage. But until then you were stuck mopping puke, taking tips stuffed in your bra and ignoring the perverted glances of customers.

When the two men sat down, they ordered two shots on the rocks which they barely touched throughout the night. Sticking to their cigarettes instead.

“You work here long?” Louis asked as you wiped along the table top.

“Started three months ago.”

“Long term?”

“Hardly, Next year you’re gonna see my name up in big lights in the city,” your smile was giddy. It stirred something in him. Armand hatred how easily you could pull such a smile.

"Is that so?"

"Indeed sir, though I need to start workin' on my accent" Louis feigns surprise. But truth is he could hear the southern twang in your voice the moment he entered.

"What brings a southern girl like you up here?"

"Well, I would have to tell you another night." A drunk waves you down stealing you away from Louis.

A crisp twenty brightens your night beneath his cup. And he and Armand kill the man who took your attention.

Every evening he comes to sit in that same spot, some times with the brooding partner of his, others without him. Some nights he's philosophical, others he's cynical. There are nights where he never utters a word. Just his eyes following your every movement.

You would become his second and final fledgling that following year. Your final night of humanity was spent in New York Armand accepted it, but even though he was hundreds of years older, wiser. The boyish desires to have ones things all to themself remained.

That night Louis took you to a Broadway production, putting you in the best box seats. Though he promised you for the rest of your days you could sit here, you declared tonight to be the very best.

Following afterwards you ate your final meal. Soul food from an old mom and pop shop and half glass of champagne which led you to where you sat now. He held you in his arms one final time.

"Will this truly be the last time you hear my mind?" your voice is hoarse from the silence as you soaked in your final sunrise.

"It is," he sees every memory one last time. He relishes in those big brown eyes, that gap in your teeth, the freckles from being out in the sun all day. He remembers that day so well, and you replay in your mind, wondering if days like that will ever return.

When the sun has completely gone and all that is left is the inky blackness of the night, something in Louis eyes tells you, "it' time."

You wonder what his final thoughts are. aHe wishes he were stronger, because he would project them to you. so instead he bgins to tell you. "I'm thinkin' about you. How I'm gonna miss the way your hert skips a beat at your favorite song, how you ear them bright sweaters int hat grungy bar...."

He empties his entire mind, his entire heart to you. Not even Armand had this kind of access to Louis. At midnight, you give him one last kiss as a human, and make love with him for the final time as well. And by the next nightfall you wake up something new, something beautifully cursed to stalk the night by his side.

Nightmares and terrors filly our nights. All from Armand. Only he would have lived enough to see such grotesque horrors. You see boys packed together on a boat weeping covered in their filth and sitting in their own sick.

Another night you are doused in rats and sealed shut in a coffin unable to scream as the giant rodents work to eat you apart in this giant tin box.

But the worst ones are the ones of those who are set on fire. Lying across a pyre and burnt slowly to a chard crisp. At first Louis brushes your worries aside, holding you in his arms in his coffin. But then Louis starts entering your dreams, beaten and bruised fried from the sun in some theatre while an audences thundering laughs rattle you as they cackle at the bloody tears puring from your eyes.

That's when the fight happens.

as soona s you are awake you pounce on Armand and Louis has to pull you off from him, cursing and hissing.

"I know its you!! You monster!! Just cause he won't screw you anymore!!" You thrash at Armand who was tossing into a hole into the wall of the apartment you three reside in.

"What were you thinking?" Louis hisses at you holding you at arms length like some child.

"You're being reckless! Now we gota get the hell out fore' the neighbors start calling the cops!" He hisses rubbing his hand across his face.

"That's what your worried about? What about your boy keeping me up fpr nearly a fucking YEAR!" ypur screams rattle the walls and Louis is quick to clamp his hand over your mouth.

"You just haven't gptten used to the change yet," your eyes go wide. He was dfending him. The one who has been torturing you.

You nod stepping out his grasp.

"It's either me or him."

"Love..."

"Don't call me that," you stp up chest pressed aginst his and whisper once more, "it's either gon' be me, or him."

Silence fills the apartment. But te look in his eyess break your heart. You nod stoeming into your shared room. He and Armand handle the police that arrive, but when he goes back to your room it's emmpty and torn into pieces.

The memory ends there as you finish your cigarette which you stub out in front of you. You look into his eyes, see the pain, watch as a bloody tear slips down the curve of his nose.

"I should've picked you..." his voice is hoarse.

"I know."

"He...he just..."

"Was a rebound. For Lestat right? Out of spite. I figured, Daniel sent me an adanced reader," you read it ten times. It was lying on the night stand of your hotel room now. "Was I a rebound too?"

"No" Louis immediately shakes his hand. "I'm done makin' exscuses for myself. But I know for a fact I fell in love with you and all your singing and dancing till the sun rose and"

"You would tell me 'cher get in here before the sun burns you'" you finished wistfully.

"I came to every performance of yours. When you were in the background and then you got your first main role in rent and you glowed on stage." You remember that opening night, seeing him sitting in the front. His eyes never leaving you once, but not once did you return his gaze.

You hate how much you love him right now. How much you miss him, but he will always be your Louis. Your maker, your lover, your companion.

"If I return," hope for a moment glimmers in his eyes, "and he is there. I will set him and you on fire. And spread your ashes to the four corners of the earth."

"Anything for you my love" he goes to reach your hands which you quickly pull back pointing one finger up.

"And no more of that dull black and gray macarbe stuff. I need color in my life Louis. Stop living like the dead, for me. Please" You scoot closer, gazing up into his eyes.

His gaze warms your cold heaet, as he stares down at you like you've hung the very moon and stars.

"Of course, cher. For you."

#louis de pointe du lac x reader #iwtv #iwtv series #iwtv x reader #ask mochi #requests #louis x reader

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shuavez · 24 days ago

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MORE THAN ENOUGH — nicholas a. chavez

masterlist | awkward

summary — three years on from your fated summer reunion with nicholas in lake como, you’ve almost got it all—your man, a sweet condo in manhattan, probably a benz. but there is just one small thing missing. inspired by more than enough by alina baraz.

tags/warnings — wine consumption. nic is a simp.

a/n — this is sort of an epilogue to awkward, cause i really love these two. if you’re new here and discovered this through tags, it’s not necessary to read awkward first but it will help give this some context, and it’s a fun (long) read about nic as well. feel free to check it out, linked above!! kisses <3

THREE YEARS LATER

The evening began in a quiet, understated wine bar tucked away in Manhattan—one of those places Josh and Dae insisted on for their regular meetups with you and Nic. The atmosphere was cozy, intimate, with low lighting and the kind of jazz playing softly in the background that made the whole world feel miles away.

Three years had passed since that life-changing week in Lake Como, and so much had happened. You and Nic returned to New York feeling like the slate between you had finally been wiped clean. Nic worked tirelessly to rebuild your trust, showing you in countless small ways that he was fully committed—not just to you but to the life you could have together. After about a year, he’d surprised you by suggesting you look for a place together, a space that would be entirely yours.

Now, you were settled into a light-filled Manhattan apartment with just the right mix of modern elegance and comfort. Nic’s long hours as a prosecutor often meant late nights, but he was never too busy to ask about your day or bring you coffee just the way you liked it. You’d transitioned back into working part-time in the public sector, performing oral surgery for underserved communities. It was demanding work, but it made you feel grounded, like you were making a real difference.

The four of you had fallen into a natural rhythm—dinners like this one, easy group texts full of jokes and updates, and the kind of camaraderie that made New York feel a little smaller.

You sat across from Dae now, swirling the last of your wine in its glass as she and Josh shared a look—one of those silent exchanges that made you certain they were plotting something. Nic leaned back in his chair beside you, his hand resting casually on the table, his fingers brushing yours just enough to feel his presence.

Josh cleared his throat dramatically, earning a playful eye roll from Dae before he announced, “So… we’ve been talking.”

Your brow furrowed as you glanced between them, curiosity flickering. “About?”

Josh leaned forward, his grin widening. “About starting a family.”

The words landed with an almost tangible weight, followed by a beat of silence as the revelation sank in.

“Wait—seriously?” you asked, a smile breaking across your face.

Dae nodded, her confidence tempered by an endearing flicker of vulnerability. “It’s something we’ve been talking about for a while, and now… it just feels right.”

Nic straightened in his chair, his expression softening as he broke into a warm smile. “That’s incredible. You guys are going to be amazing parents.”

“Unbelievable parents,” you echoed, reaching across the table to clasp Dae’s hand. “I’m so happy for you.”

Josh, ever the joker, smirked. “You’re just excited to be the cool aunt and uncle, admit it.”

You laughed, already imagining it—Nic teaching their hypothetical kid about baseball while you supplied an endless stream of snacks. “Obviously. The coolest.”

Nic chuckled, the sound low and easy. “I call dibs on corrupting them with sweets.”

Josh groaned, though his grin betrayed his amusement. “We’re doomed already.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you leaned into the playful banter. “Great. Just don’t come crying to me when I have to be the one filling their cavities later.”

Dae straightened, clapping her hands in amusement. “Perfect. Built-in dental services. You’re definitely on babysitting duty.”

“Oh, no,” you teased, holding up your hands in mock surrender. “I’ll spoil them rotten, but I draw the line at pediatric extractions.”

The conversation shifted after that, full of laughter and teasing—Josh insisting he’d be the “fun dad” while Dae rolled her eyes and said they’d be lucky if the kid didn’t end up with his dramatics. It was light and easy, but beneath it was something deeper. A sense of growth, of possibility.

For a moment, as you watched the four of you talking, drinking, sharing pieces of your lives, it struck you: this wasn’t just nostalgia. This wasn’t trying to recreate the past. This was better. You’d all grown older, wiser, and in many ways closer.

By the time you made your way upstairs to the rooftop bar, the night was bathed in the warm, ambient glow of string lights, the kind that blurred softly against the glittering skyline. You leaned into the railing, watching the city stretch endlessly before you, alive with its steady pulse. It was the kind of view that usually made you feel small, the kind that reminded you of the relentless chaos waiting just beyond these walls.

But tonight? It felt different.

Dae stood beside you, her shoulder brushing yours in that casual, familiar way she always had. She was rambling about the kind of stroller she and Josh might need one day, though the idea of her being a mom still felt surreal. You glanced over at her and smiled—your chaotic, vibrant best friend who had somehow grown into someone ready to raise a whole human. The thought made your chest swell with a strange mix of awe and affection.

Behind you, Josh and Nic were still at the bar. You could hear Josh teasing Nic about something, his laugh loud and unrestrained in that way only Josh’s could be. Nic’s voice rumbled in response, low and steady, and though you couldn’t hear the words, you could picture the slight smirk that always came when he was holding his ground.

These were your people.

You let your gaze drift back to the skyline, a soft smile tugging at your lips. For so long, you’d felt like you were constantly chasing something—your career, your ambitions, the life you thought you were supposed to live. And it had been good. Fulfilling, even. But in this moment, it hit you just how much you’d been missing.

Here, surrounded by the people you loved most in the world, everything felt... right. The noise, the stress, the endless demands of life outside these moments didn’t matter. You weren’t worried about your next surgery or Nic’s next trial. You weren’t thinking about deadlines or schedules or the million other things that filled your days.

Right here, it was perfect.

It was like home.

The sound of footsteps behind you pulled you from your thoughts. You turned just as Nic reached your side, his expression softening when his eyes met yours. “Hey,” he said, his voice warm, his hand brushing yours like a quiet promise.

“Hey,” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Josh and Dae hovered a few steps away, exchanging a glance that looked suspiciously like they were in on something. You barely had time to register it before Nic stepped closer, his hand still lightly holding yours.

He cleared his throat, and suddenly, the air shifted. The easy banter faded, replaced by something deeper.

“I need to say something,” he began, his voice low but steady. You blinked up at him, caught off guard by the sudden change in tone.

His words came slowly, deliberately. “These past few years have been... everything I didn’t know I needed. Coming back here, building a life with you—it’s more than I ever thought I’d have. More than I deserve.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he squeezed your hand, silencing you gently.

“Let me finish,” he said, a slight smile playing on his lips. “Because as much as I love what we have now, I want more. I want it all.”

And then he was pulling something from his pocket, his movements careful, almost reverent. The sight of the small velvet box made your breath catch.

“Marry me,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Because this? Right here, with you, with them—it’s everything. It’s home. And I want to spend the rest of my life making sure you know how much you mean to me.”

The world blurred for a moment, your focus narrowing on him—his earnest expression, the way his hand trembled slightly as he held the ring, the hope in his eyes.

“Yes,” you said, your voice breaking on the word as tears spilled over your cheeks. “Yes, of course.”

The grin that spread across Nic’s face was breathtaking, like the sun breaking through a storm. He slid the ring onto your finger, and then he was pulling you into his arms, holding you as though he’d never let go.

You barely noticed Josh and Dae until they were barreling into you both, cheering loud enough to draw stares from the rest of the rooftop. Josh clapped Nic on the back while Dae hugged you tightly, her voice shaking with laughter and excitement as she whispered, “I told you this would happen someday.”

And as you stood there, surrounded by laughter and love and the sparkling city below, you felt it again—that quiet, undeniable certainty.

This was home.

#me n the word reverent #nicholas alexander chavez imagine #nicholas alexander chavez fic #nicholas alexander chavez x reader #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas alexander chavez x you #grotesquerie #monsters: the lyle and erik menendez story #elle’s worx #elle’s navi #i wrote this today and i’m recovering from gastro still so if it’s shit i apologise

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sweatervest-obsessed · 4 months ago

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Can You Come Around

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

pairing: modern!steve harrington x modern!fem!reader

wc: 2629

cw: mad flirting, swearing, alcohol, drinking, weed, smoking, mentions of cheating, men being weird, smut, 18+ mdni, fingering, teasing

a/n: set in modern times with the reader as the front woman of a new band in NYC. hope you guys like it!!

steve masterlist

“Goddamn” Eddie whispered as they all stared up at the stage.

It was Robin’s twenty-first birthday, causing everyone to meet up in New York City. Since Robin was the last of the eldest teens to turn of legal drinking age, the group decided to go on a small trip in honor of the momentous occasion.

A four day trip with four of Steve’s closest friends—what could possibly go wrong.

Originally? Nothing.

Wednesday and Thursday went off without a hitch. Seeing as her birthday was Wednesday, they spent the night bar hopping, snagging free drinks from those who were feeling generous enough to donate to their celebration, and snagging as many free desserts from as many restaurants as possible.

Then Friday night hit. Abandoning their original plan to try this bar near NYU that Nancy had been raving about, they found themselves in some other part of Greenwich, at this random bar that Eddie just had to go to.

You see, the group had run into one of Eddie’s old friends on Thursday, and he wouldn’t stop raving about this random band that only Eddie seemed to have heard about. And that’s when Eddie turned to look at the group.

“No.”

“Nancy—”

“I said no Eddie, this was the plan–”

At one point he even got on his knees and pleaded with Nancy.

She eventually caved when Eddie offered to sponsor her drinks for the rest of her trip.

Which is how they found themselves packed in the back corner of this surprising large space. It had to have spanned across two buildings since it was just this giant, underground hall that was covered in drawings, in stickers, in posters, in murals, in graffiti—dark, but not dingy, which Nancy and Robin greatly appreciated. Once the group had managed to snag a table in the back, and gotten their drinks, they all started talking to one another.

It was loud, but since there was no music playing, they could still hear one another pretty well.

That was until your band walked on stage the crowd of college kids roared.

To say that Steve was completely and utterly entranced by you was an understatement. The roaming lights around the audience would catch his eyes every now and again, but it didn’t matter if he was being blinded since he could only see you anyways.

As you greeted the audience, Eddie elbowed Steve slightly in an ‘I told you so’ manner. “You’re going to fucking love them man.”

Steve only nodded in response, watching your smile broaden with each roar of applause from the crowd.

The night went on like this, Steve being completely despondent from all conversations happening at the table, and the group making fun of his infatuation. He barely even finished the beer in his hand, only able to focus on the sound of your voice filling up every available inch of room. It was hard to not breathe you in with every single inhale he took.

As the night was winding down, the crowd only grew. But as all good things, your performance had to come to an end. Your voice rang out.

“New York!”

They roared in response to you.

“I just want to thank you all for coming out tonight to support me and my friends. At the end of the day we’re just a bunch of idiot twenty-two years old that fucking love music, and we’re so grateful you guys decided to come out and support us tonight.”

Steve heard Eddie scream over his shoulder with the rest of the crowd.

“Now, we only have one song left in our set–I know I know it’s devastating but some of us wanna get fucked up too.”

The opening chords of the song rang out and Steve swore he was going to go deaf. He had never actually felt sound before, but there was a first time for everything.

Nancy whacked Eddie’s shoulder. “I fucking love this song, why didn’t you lead with that?”

Eddie’s eyes grew wide as your voice floated over.

Can you come around? Fuck me nice.

“You know—you LIKE–this song?”

Pull my hair. Sing me lullabies.

“Eddie, we listened to it in the van on the way here..”

And we can pretend that we're in love.

Steve blocked out the rest of their conversations and zeroed in on the thrumming of his pulse as you continued to sing.

“When you come around, I’ll wear red. And I’ll forget all the awful things you’ve ever said. And we can pretend that we're in love.”

Singing has been a passion of yours from a very young age. You were in vocal lessons the second you turned four, and dance lessons by five. Your parents were certain you were going to be the next broadway triple threat. You had even picked up the guitar and piano by age seven. But by the time you hit middle school, you had become more interested in writing, in poetry. You dropped the dance lessons and picked up drum lessons instead, much to the chagrin of your father. Writing poetry turned into writing music, and suddenly you were sneaking off to go to concerts every night, finding ways to get into bars to see local singers and bands. It was exhilarating watching people pursue their passion.

You found your bandmates in your first semester at Columbia. You had been in the wrong place at the right time, finding out that one of your lab partners could also play the guitar and the bass. And then you found out she knew someone who played the drums who was looking for a few people to hangout with. Then you found out that the drummer's sister was a keyboardist who was over at NYU. And NYU’s roommate? Well she just so happened to be one of the greatest guitar players you had ever heard.

That’s when you guys started playing and writing music together.

“Until I throw a punch and you call me a cunt and that tips me over the edge. Ah, you throw my phone out the window. The next thing the neighbor says she’s calling’ the feds, and I wish you were dead. For a sec. I wish you dead. “

You couldn’t help but feel as though someone had shot electricity through your veins. Any time you stepped out on that stage, it was as if the world shifted under your feet and suddenly you could feel every single pulse of every single person in the audience.

Tonight was no exception. You had officially released two EPs with collections of songs on them over the past few years, but a few weeks ago, your band had signed with an agent, who was able to get you more gigs, better gigs. She was incredible.

Exactly a week ago, you had released your first ever single with a label. Your EPs were listened to, and you were an up-and-coming group to look out for, for sure, but you had never had a single before.

It blew up.

“But you come around. At ten pm. We watch tv. We break the bed.”

Tonight was the first time you were singing the single live, and hearing the entire audience screaming the words back to you took your breath away. You almost forgot the next words since you were so baffled at just how many people knew your songs, how many people knew the words.

And we can pretend that we're in love. We can pretend that we’re in love.”

You couldn’t help as your eyes roamed the entire audience the whole night, but during this final song, you locked eyes with someone in the back.

He had these gorgeous eyes that only showed for a brief second as the light that had roamed over him, before it moved on and he was gone again.

Your heart almost jumped into your throat and your stomach flipped. Who the fuck was this man, and how did you find him once you finished singing this song?

This song was written over the course of twenty-seven minutes.

About four months ago, your relationship of three years had decided that you weren’t enough. And instead of ending it all proper-like, he decided to go and fuck some random girl in his ethics class.

The irony was not lost on you.

For a sec. I wish you dead. I wish you were dead.

After you had finished performing, you went backstage, congratulating your bandmates, but your mind was somewhere else. It was in the back of the venue with one of the most gorgeous men you had ever seen in your life.

At the same time, Steve Harrington was running through all of the ways he would be able to find you in this crowd. He wasn’t about to tell his friends he was running off to find you, since it was Robin’s birthday night after all, but he wasn’t about to not take the chance.

“They’re fucking amazing…” Robin slurred out a little bit, having had six shots in the past ten minutes. Wearing a “It’s my birthday” sash in a bar is all fun and games until you receive your tenth tequila shot and eighth free margarita from kind strangers.

“Alright…maybe we should…”

Steve and Eddie chuckled at the sound that emanated from Robin’s mouth. He was sure if he put in the effort, he could translate it to a negative response to Nancy’s suggestion.

“I’ll be right back Eds, while Nance and Johnny take Robin back. I know you wanted to stay out a little longer.” He muttered to Eddie before heading off, towards the hallway near the side of the venue.

Steve found a bouncer near the end of the hallway who was smoking a cigarette and nodded outside. “Do you mind if I…?”

The guy shook his head. “Knock twice to be let back in, yeah?”

Steve nodded and headed outside, reaching into his pocket to pull out a joint from the small container in his pocket.

Just as he did so, he heard a cough from beside him. “You don’t happen to have a…”

As Steve looked up, your voice trailed off. The rest of your sentence didn’t matter since you were face to face with the mystery man from the back of the room.

“Hey you’re–” Steve pointed at you before realzing how fucking dumb he must sound. But you just shrugged and nodded.

“Yeah. How’d you like the show?”

Steve held the lighter up and lit the joint that was in your hand. “Loved it.”

“Yeah?”

All you could notice was how gorgeous his eyes were again, stunned into a moment of hesitation with words since you were absolutely too mesmerized by him.

“Great fucking show.”

That and his hands. You would let those fucking hands do anything to you.

“Think so?”

Steve nodded, and bit his lip as he looked you up and down shamelessly.

You come around. Fuck me nice. Pull my hair. Sing me lullabies.

You shoved Steve up against a wall, lips against his. He tasted like weed and whatever beer he had been drinking earlier.

His hands cupped your ass as the two of you began to make out in the dimly lit alley behind the venue.

No other words needed.

Your body rolled reflexively against his, causing him to moan softly into your mouth.

“Just gonna kiss me pretty boy or…” You muttered as you kissed across his jaw, sucking and leaving marks all across his neck.

Steve took the opportunity to roll the both of you against the wall so now his body pressed yours up against it.

His hands had moved from your back to your hips, squeezing them ever so slightly as to get more of a rise out of you.

It was working.

He slipped one of his hands down the curve of your hip and to the front of your jeans, unzipping them as you moaned into his mouth. The fingers that had previously been on his neck were now twisted in his hair.

Steve’s pointer finger slid up your panties, causing your whole body to jolt at the touch of him between your thighs.

“Please…fuck…P-Please.”

His lips trailed down your cheek and towards your neck.

The feeling of his hand so close to your pussy and the fanning of his breath over your neck was enough to almost send you over the edge right then and there.

Steve knew better than to keep you waiting. Brushing aside your underwear with his thumb, he pressed a finger up into your core.

Steve’s eye’s grew darker at the feeling of how completely soaked you were, just for him.

Your hips rocked back and forth slightly, trying to get him to move, trying to get the friction.

Steve took the hint and dug his finger in further, getting up to his knuckle in pussy.

Once Steve had thouroughly fucked you with just one finger, he decided to add another. And then another, causing you to tug even more on his hair.

Steve decided right then and there, he loved the feeling of your squirming on his hand while you yanked the shit out of his hair.

“F-fuck–shit I’m…I’m so..”

Steve started rapidly curling his fingers inside of you, over and over and over again, brushing against your g-spot over and over and over again.

His other hand came up to your mouth and he slowly pushed his two middle fingers inside, causing you to slightly choke on them, and then moan.

It was muffled by the digits in your mouth, but it was the final straw that caused your orgasm to snap your body in half. Choking slightly on one hand, and your pussy convulsing on his other, you had ascended to heaven.

A man had never made you cum just by fingering you before.

In the midst of your orgasm, body spasming at Steve’s fingers contined to fuck your insides, that Steve was probably just a god—a sex god really. No man could be this handsome and fuckable, while also being phenomenal at sex.

Eventually as your body calmed down, and Steve removed his hand from your mouth, you felt his lips on yours. Your hand instantly shoved him hard against your lips, feeling the need to feel something of his skin on yours.

He slowly circled his fingers causing your body to let out another moan, sending a shiver up your spine.

After a few moments Steve pulled away, and you opened your eyes to take another look at the man standing with you. As you did so, he very gently pulled his hand out, looking you in the eyes the whole time.

You might as well had cum a second time right then and there as he slowly slipped his fingers, covered in your orgasm, into his mouth. If you thought about it too much, you were sure you basically drooled right then and there for this man.

“You…”

Steve raised his eyebrows at the fact that the woman he had just heard singing her heart out was now speechless at him.

“Me?”

“You’re coming back to my apartment.”

“Oh?”

You nodded and slid one of your hands down to zip up your jeans and fix your shirt. Not that it mattered since you looked like you had just been fucked to heaven and back in an alley.

Not even a moment later, just as Eddie was leaving the club he received a text from Steve:

Dont wait up

228 notes · View notes

sabrinasopposite · 28 days ago

Text

don’t you want me like i want you?

clark kent x guitarist!reader

don’t you want me

like i want you baby?

sleep tonight but tonights going crazy

meet me at the…. APT.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

For some, music is a companion—a loyal shadow that lingers, a daily necessity. But for others, it’s more. It’s everything. They don’t just hear it; they see it in the shifting hues of the sky, feel it in the vibration of the earth, live it in every heartbeat. For them, music isn’t a sound; it’s a language, a lifeline, a mirror.

For y/n, it was all of that and more. It was a sanctuary, the only way to release the emotions she couldn’t quite speak aloud. Music was her escape—a getaway car racing through uncharted roads. Plug in the headphones, press play, and suddenly, the world became a little softer, a little brighter. It was like being handed a map to a place only she understood.

But sometimes, the search for new music felt like a hunt—a quest for the perfect sound that could stir her soul, rekindle a spark, or provide the soundtrack for a moment she hadn’t yet lived. For y/n, this hunt was eternal, an ache as familiar as the chords of her favorite songs.

She had arrived in Smallville just weeks ago, a town so quiet it seemed like it could have been plucked from the second verse of a Radiohead track—melancholic yet oddly serene, with beauty tucked between its stillness. It was a far cry from the electric heartbeat of New York City, where she’d spent most of her life.

Smallville felt like a genre she’d never chosen—like a punk rocker trying to write country ballads. You either adapted and found the rhythm, or you didn’t. Y/n wasn’t sure yet which way it would go.

New York had been loud, chaotic, a symphony of endless possibility. Smallville was... still. Too still. But in that stillness, y/n found space to think—a fact that scared her more than she cared to admit. Change was like hearing a song for the first time: jarring, unfamiliar. But sometimes, if you gave it a chance, the melody could surprise you.

Her first days in Smallville were spent wandering its streets, letting herself get lost, hoping to stumble upon something—a spark, a rhythm, a new favorite lyric in this quiet album of a town. High school loomed on the horizon, another challenge she wasn’t ready to face. Her only solace was her family: her parents and her older brother, Theodore.

Theodore was her opposite in some ways but her twin in one crucial aspect—music. While she craved the melancholic poetry of The Smiths and the atmospheric pull of Fleetwood Mac, Theodore was all raw energy. His heroes were The Clash and the Sex Pistols, their messy rebellion plastered all over his bedroom walls.

Their playlists were mismatched, but their shared passion for sound connected them like two strings on the same guitar.

“You listen to sad music,” Theodore teased one night as she scribbled lyrics in her worn notebook. 

“And you listen to angry music,” she shot back, smirking.

 “Anger gets things done. What does sadness do?” “It makes you feel,” she replied simply, her words trailing into the hum of a record spinning in the background.

It was during one of her aimless walks through Smallville that y/n saw it—a poster taped to a lamppost, its bold letters practically leaping off the page:

“LIVE MUSIC! TALON EVERY FRIDAY NIGHT!”

Her heart skipped, the words striking a chord in her chest. She’d passed the Talon a few times—a cozy coffee shop with an unassuming exterior—but now, it gleamed with possibility.

A smile crept across her face, bright and mischievous like the neon ink on the poster. Maybe this is it, she thought. A way to feel like herself again. To stop feeling like a background instrument in her own life.

She ran her fingers over the strap of her guitar case later that night, her mind racing. She hadn’t performed since New York—a string of open mics where she poured her heart out to strangers in dark rooms. But this felt different. This felt like the start of a new setlist.

Theodore didn’t take much convincing. Over dinner, she pitched the idea “Live music at this place called the Talon. Friday night. Let’s go.”

 “You mean you should go,” he replied with a smirk. “With your brooding Smiths covers.”

 “And you can bring your chaotic drum solos,” she countered, grinning. “Fine. But I get to pick one song,” theodore said, his grin mirroring hers.

🖤

As the days rolled by, the night of the Talon finally awrrived. y/n had been counting down to it, her excitement mingling with nervous energy.

The Talon wasn’t just any coffee shop—it was the place to be in Smallville. By day, it was a cozy corner where locals sipped lattes and caught up on homework. By night, it transformed into a buzzing hub for the town’s younger crowd, especially students from Smallville High.

Lana Lang, a fellow student, was the mastermind behind it all. Running the Talon was more than just a job for Lana—it was her dream, a vision she’d nurtured into reality. She’d given the shop a unique vibe, blending vintage cinema posters and retro lighting with warm, earthy tones that made it feel timeless. The Talon was Lana’s way of shaping the world around her, just like music shaped y/n’s.

For y/n, tonight was about sharing her heart through her guitar. But for Clark Kent, tonight was about surviving his friends’ enthusiasm.

Clark hadn’t planned on going. Events like this weren’t his thing—too loud, too crowded, and not exactly farm-boy friendly. But Chloe and Pete had been relentless.

“Come on, Clark!” Chloe said, practically dragging him along Main Street. “You can’t spend every Friday night doing farm stuff or staring at your ceiling. Live a little!” Yeah, man,” Pete added. “The Talon’s where it’s at. Music, coffee, and a crowd that’s actually, you know, alive. It’s way better than your barn.”

Clark sighed, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. “I don’t even like these kinds of events. You guys know that.”

“That’s because you’ve never given them a chance,” Chloe said with a knowing smile. “And besides, Lana’s worked really hard to put this together. The least you can do is show up and support her.”

Clark glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. “So this is about Lana.”

“No,” Chloe replied quickly—too quickly. “It’s about live music. Supporting local talent. Being a good friend. And, okay, maybe it wouldn’t kill you to, you know, talk to her while you’re there.”

Pete laughed. “Clark Kent, master of subtlety. I bet he stands in the corner all night, sipping coffee and avoiding eye contact.”

Clark shook his head but couldn’t suppress a small smile. “Fine. I’ll go. But only for a little while.” Chloe and Pete exchanged victorious looks as they stepped into the Talon.

The place was already packed, the buzz of conversation and laughter filling the air. Y/n and Theodore arrived early, her guitar slung over her shoulder and his drumsticks sticking out of his back pocket. Theodore had been grumbling about being dragged out of the house, but Y/n could see the glimmer of excitement in his eyes.

Clark, on the other hand, stuck close to Chloe and Pete, scanning the room. The warmth of the fairy lights and the smell of coffee filled the air, and despite himself, he felt a bit more at ease.

“See?” Chloe said, nudging him. “This isn’t so bad, is it?”

Clark shrugged but stayed quiet. His eyes wandered to the small stage at the far end of the shop, where musicians were setting up. He didn’t recognize anyone, but something about the electric energy in the air made him pause.

🖤

Meanwhile, Y/n was standing offstage, tuning her guitar and stealing glances at the growing crowd. Her nerves were starting to show, but Theodore gave her a reassuring nudge. “You’ve got this,” he said, tapping his drumsticks against his leg.

“Thanks,” she replied, trying to steady her breathing. This was it—the start of something new, in a place she was still trying to call home. And as the first chords echoed through the Talon, the crowd quieted, and all eyes turned to the stage.

y/n stood at the center of the small stage, her white guitar resting comfortably in her arms, as if it had always been there. Her outfit—a mix of rockstar glam and effortless charm—caught the light just enough to make her seem larger than life.

She looked like the kind of girl people might describe as a "rockstar’s girlfriend," but there was no mistaking her presence. She wasn’t anyone’s shadow; she was the main event. A free spirit with fire in her veins and a guitar that held all the words she couldn’t speak aloud.

Her style might have turned heads, but it was her eyes that truly shone under the purplish lights. They sparkled with the energy of someone who had something to say and wasn’t afraid to let the music do the talking.

The room buzzed softly with conversation as she stepped up to the mic. She leaned in, her lips curling into a playful grin. “Hi, everyone,” she began, her voice warm but laced with the sharpness of her New Yorker accent. “Hope you guys are ready for something a little... rocky tonight.” She chuckled, the sound carrying through the room like the first strum of a chord.

y/n scanned the small crowd of the Talon, her heart pounding. The faces staring back weren’t familiar, but that didn’t matter. She wasn’t performing for recognition. This was her way of speaking to the world, of sharing her stories—even if some of those stories were ones she’d only imagined.

Love, for instance. It wasn’t something she’d experienced firsthand, but it was a world she often visited in her mind. She’d written countless poems about it, pouring her thoughts into metaphors and melodies.

Tonight, she was ready to turn those words into something real, even if it was just for three minutes under the Talon’s lights. She glanced over her shoulder, locking eyes with Theodore. His drumsticks were poised in his hands, his posture relaxed but ready. She gave him a small nod, a signal to drop the bass and let the rhythm take over.

With that, Theodore struck the first note, a deep, vibrating pulse that seemed to ripple through the room. y/n felt the vibration in her chest, grounding her, reminding her why she loved this. The noise of the crowd softened as the music began to build, pulling everyone’s attention toward the siblings on stage.

y/n closed her eyes for a brief moment, feeling the weight of the guitar in her hands. Then she opened them, her fingers finding the strings instinctively. The first chord rang out clear and strong, cutting through the hum of the room like a declaration.

The song they were playing was called APT, a fun, energetic piece she had written inspired by a drinking game her friend from downtown, NYC had introduced her to.

It was a game called Apteu, and although it was just a silly tradition, it had given y/n the perfect material for a lighthearted, upbeat song. The track was full of energy and rhythm, designed to get people moving and feeling good—just the kind of vibe she wanted to set in this crowded room tonight.

She started to sing, her voice rising and falling with the melody, effortlessly weaving through the rhythm. Her eyes sparkled with passion, each word she sang carrying the weight of emotions she often kept hidden. When y/n sang, it was like she wasn’t just performing; she was living inside the song, letting every note and lyric become part of her. She embodied it, lost in the world of the music, letting it carry her to places she could only dream about.

Her voice was a perfect blend of sweetness and edge, like honey with a kick of spice.

“Don't you want me like I want you, baby?

Don’t you want me like I need you now?

Sleep tomorrow, but tonight, go crazy. All you gotta do is just meet me at the…”

Her voice echoed through the Talon, drawing the crowd into her spell.

Clark, who had been standing in the back, arms folded and quietly observing, found himself completely captivated. His eyes followed y/n as she moved, completely lost in the song, and suddenly, he realized he was too. It wasn’t just the music—it was the way she poured herself into every note, the way she made it feel like her voice was something raw and real, like it had never been rehearsed, only lived.

His friends, Chloe and Pete, were watching him, but Clark couldn’t tear his eyes away. The entire room seemed to pulse with the beat, and y/n was at the center of it, effortlessly drawing everyone into her orbit. He wasn’t sure if it was the way the song felt so alive, or the way y/n seemed so in tune with every word she sang, but there was something about it—something about her—that hit him harder than he expected.

“She’s good,” Chloe whispered, nudging him. ,,Better than good, actually.”

Pete grinned. “I told you. This is way better than farm chores.”

Clark barely heard them. His focus was entirely on y/n, who was lost in the music. Her eyes glinted with emotion, her whole body swaying in time with the rhythm, and Clark felt that strange spark again, like the first crack of lightning on a stormy night. He was drawn to her in a way he didn’t understand, but the more she sang, the more he couldn’t look away.

y/n smiled briefly as she sang, her gaze briefly meeting Clark’s across the room. It was a fleeting moment, just long enough for him to feel something—a connection he couldn’t name, but he couldn’t ignore.

As she finished the song with a flourish, the crowd cheered, and y/n’s face lit up, glowing with the warmth of the applause. But for a brief second, Clark was still caught in the aftershocks of that look, a smile that was just for him—or at least, that’s how it felt.

The crowd cheered, some shouting their praise while others lingered at the edge of the stage, chatting and laughing. y/n was swarmed by a few people who complimented her performance, but she stayed humble, thanking them with a bright smile and an easy laugh. Theodore hung back, his arms crossed over his chest, watching her with a quiet pride.

As the buzz of conversation filled the air, y/n and her brother moved off the stage, standing near the side of the room to catch their breath. Clark, still lost in the aftershock of her performance, was snapped back to reality when Chloe grabbed his arm, pulling him forward.

“Come on, Clark, let’s go say hi! You can't just stand there looking like you’re stuck in a trance,” she teased, her eyes glinting with mischief.

Pete followed, still grinning. “Yeah, man. She’s great, huh? Let’s go talk to her.”

🖤

They walked toward the area where Y/N and Theodore stood, and for a moment, Clark hesitated. His heart was still pounding, and his mind was a little lost in the world he’d just experienced. It was just a song, just a girl—yet, something about the way she’d sung had gotten under his skin. But as they got closer, he found himself caught in the whirl of people milling around, all eager to meet the new musician, all laughing and talking.

“Hey, I just wanted to say you did an amazing job,” Chloe said, reaching Y/N and flashing her a wide smile.

Y/N returned her smile, her eyes still alight from the performance. “Thanks! Glad you liked it. It’s always a little nerve-wracking to play for people you’ve never met.”

“Well, you nailed it,” Pete chimed in. “You’ve got a real gift. And that song—APT—man, that was infectious. You had everyone in here dancing with you.”

Y/N laughed, her voice warm and sincere. “I’m just glad it got people vibing. It’s one of those silly songs, you know? You gotta embrace the fun in it.”

Theodore stood silently beside her, occasionally nodding when someone complimented his drumming, but for the most part, he seemed content to watch his sister shine in the spotlight.

Clark hung back, not sure if he should join the conversation. His mind was still racing with thoughts of Y/N, of how she seemed so at ease on stage, and how her smile had made him feel like they were the only two people in the room. But he didn’t speak up. Instead, he found himself standing just out of reach, watching quietly, unsure of what to say.

After a few moments, the conversation began to drift away from the music, and people started to break off into smaller groups, chatting about other things. Clark felt the opportunity slipping away.

“I guess we should get going,” Chloe said after a while, her tone casual, but there was a hint of something in her voice, like she could tell Clark was still lost in the night’s events. “It’s getting late, and we don’t want to leave our fearless leader to fend for himself.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Pete agreed, giving Clark a playful nudge.

Y/N’s eyes caught Clark’s again as they turned to leave. Their gazes met, and for a heartbeat, it felt like the world paused. But before Clark could say anything—before he could find the courage to step forward and introduce himself—she turned back to talk to someone else, lost in the group.

Clark hesitated, and the moment passed.

“Well, that was… interesting,” Pete said with a grin as they headed toward the door. “You seemed like you were a million miles away, man. You’re telling me you didn’t feel that? She’s something else, huh?”

Chloe gave him a teasing look. “Clark’s not the type to swoon over a girl in a coffee shop, Pete. Let him off the hook.”

Clark didn’t answer. His thoughts were elsewhere, stuck on the look they’d shared. He thought, maybe, there could have been something. But as they walked out of the Talon and into the cool night air, the excitement of the night began to fade, and he couldn’t help but think—he’d probably never see her again.

Y/N looked behind, her gaze following Clark as he walked out of the shop. Her eyes lingered on his tall figure and dark hair—he looked like a soft song, something out of Fleetwood Mac's Dreams or maybe Tears for Fears' Head Over Heels.

Her heart was pounding, maybe from the adrenaline still coursing through her after the performance. Or maybe it was the memory of those ocean-blue eyes.

🖤

The weekend passed, and Monday arrived all too quickly. For some students, it was just another Monday. Clark hadn’t expected to see Y/N again. Hell, he didn’t even know her name or who she was, but a part of him felt like he’d known her forever. Maybe it was the music that surrounded her—the way it made her seem like someone whose story everyone somehow already knew.

He’d thought about her all weekend.

Her song was stuck in his head, just like the memory of those purple lights that seemed to reflect her presence.

But another thought kept creeping in—he’d probably never see her again. She sounded like she came from New York; maybe it had been just a visit. What kind of girl like that would live in Smallville? She seemed like she belonged in a vinyl shop, or in some city where she was constantly surrounded by music.

Yet, as he walked down the hallway of Smallville High, he saw her.

Y/N was leaning against a locker, laughing and talking with Theodore. Her bright smile seemed to light up the entire hallway, and for a moment, Clark felt the world slow down.

He didn’t know what was happening to him. Sure, he’d been shy around Lana earlier that school year, but this was different. He didn’t even know Y/N—he’d only met her eyes across a crowded room. And yet, here he was, feeling… weird.

When their eyes met again, Y/N smiled, a mix of recognition and curiosity. She nudged Theodore and pointed in Clark’s direction.

“That’s the guy from the other two people who congratulated us—Friday night!” she said.

Theodore glanced over his shoulder, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Sis, a lot of people talked to us that night. I barely even remember the girl who gave me her number.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and walked away from her brother, heading straight toward Clark. His steps slowed, but his heart raced faster with every second.

“Hey, aren’t you the guy from the Talon—Friday night?” she asked with a warm smile as she approached him.

Clark blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, yeah. Clark. Clark Kent.”

“Y/N,” she said, extending her hand. Her handshake was firm, confident. “So, do you go to every show, or was Friday just a lucky coincidence?”

“I don’t usually go to shows,” he admitted, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “But maybe… I’ll consider going to more.”

Y/N grinned, her expression easy and relaxed. Something about her grounded him, helping him find his footing. She was tilting her head slightly as if studying him. “You don’t seem like the ‘crowded coffee shop’ type. What pulled you in? Was it the music, or did someone drag you there?”

Clark chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Chloe and Pete—they kind of insisted. Said I needed to ‘get out more.’”

“Sounds like good friends,” she said with a laugh. “It were the two that I talked to— right?”

“Yeah—- they loved it seriously,” Clark admitted. “And I… well, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” His words came out more honest than he’d intended, and he quickly added, “The music, I mean. You were amazing up there.”

Her expression softened, a touch of surprise flickering in her eyes. “Thanks. That means a lot.” She paused, glancing at him curiously. “So, what do you do? Besides getting dragged to coffee shops by your friends, I mean.”

“Mostly farm stuff,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of shyness. “My family has a farm just outside of town.”

“That explains the whole ‘rugged, mysterious’ thing you’ve got going on,” Y/N teased, crossing her arms as she leaned against a nearby locker.

Clark laughed, a little flustered. “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me mysterious before.”

“Well, there’s a first for everything,” she said with a playful shrug. Then her tone shifted, becoming more sincere.

Clark smiled and looks at her. ,,And— the guy with the drums was your boyfriend or..?” he said curiously— of course he didn’t want to build up some hopes but, why not asking right?

Her smile widened, and she glanced back toward Theodore, who was still leaning against the lockers, pretending not to listen.

“Well— definitely not. His name is Theodore and he is my older brother. He shares the same passion like me— he is more into sex pistols and I am more into the smiths. But music’s always been my thing. It’s… kind of like home, no matter where I am.” she started to ramble— she was quite a talker.

Clark nodded and found that adorable of how she got into a conversation flow. “That makes sense. You looked like you belonged up there.”

Y/N looked at him for a moment, her gaze softening. “Thanks, Clark. Really.” Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she added, “So, are you going to stick with the ‘guy who never goes to shows’ routine, or are you thinking about breaking that streak?”

He smiled, shifting his weight slightly. “I guess that depends. Are you playing again soon?”

“Maybe,” she said, clearly enjoying the game. “Guess you’ll have to keep an eye out.”

Clark nodded, his shyness melting away as her energy pulled him in. “I’ll do that.”

“Good,” she said with a soft smile. “See you around, Clark Kent.”

And with that, she turned back to Theodore, leaving Clark standing in the middle of the hallway, feeling like the world had shifted just slightly under his feet.

As he watched her walk away, Pete and Chloe appeared at his side, both smirking.

“Smooth, Clark,” Pete teased. “Real smooth.”

Chloe grinned. “So, is this where we start dragging you to more coffee shop gigs?”

Clark didn’t answer. His gaze was still fixed on Y/N, a small, thoughtful smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “Maybe you should.”

🖤 i hope u guys enjoyed! and stream APT by my girl rosé

#clark kent smallville x reader #clark kent smallville #clark kent #tom welling #smallvilleclark #smallville x reader #tom welling x reader #clark kent ffs #clark kent fics #smallville #apt.#apt rosé #clark kent x guitarist!reader #clark kent x fem!reader #clark kent smallville fics

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the-garbanzo-annex-jr · 11 days ago

Text

by Shiryn Ghermezian

A live comedy event set to take place in New York City next week featuring comedians discussing the Israeli-Palestinian conflict has been canceled by organizers after the pro-Palestinian comics withdrew their participation.

“Comics for Conversation: Because It’s Not Always a Laughing Matter” was scheduled to be a show in which both pro-Israel and pro-Palestinian comics would perform stand-up comedy sets followed by a moderated discussion on stage about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. The event was meant to be the first initiative of a new movement called Don’t Hate Debate, a joint initiative between the marketing platform The Heart Monitors and Stand Up NY. Organizers hoped to promote interfaith dialogue between comics from both sides of the conflict while also hosting an evening where audiences can enjoy some laughs.

Two of the pro-Palestinian comics who originally joined the lineup dropped out of the show in late November after facing backlash from anti-Israel activists, who falsely claimed that the event would be a debate about “the genocide” taking place in the Gaza Strip. In response, organizers decided not to release the names of other participating comics and the location of the event in advance. The decision was made to ensure the safety and security of attendees and the remaining comics who would be featured in the show.

Dani Zoldan, the founder of Stand Up NY and the Chosen Comedy Festival, told The Algemeiner on Thursday that the event was ultimately nixed altogether when more pro-Palestinian comics dropped out of the event. The Heart Monitors and Stand Up NY released an open letter on Thursday addressed to the pro-Palestinian comics, urging them to reconsider their decision to pull out of Monday’s show.

“By participating, you are not endorsing any narrative or perspective other than your own. You are helping to create a space where others can see what it looks like to sit in the same room, listen, and engage without fear or anger dictating the conversation,” they wrote in the letter, which was shared with The Algemeiner.”We need your voices. We need your humor. And most importantly, we need your courage to engage.”

#comics for conversation #stupid idea #dani zoldan #the heart monitors #stand up ny #don't hate debate

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the-winter-spider · 21 days ago

Text

Invisible | Part 27

Bucky x reader AU

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Nothing

A/N: THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

Masterpost

----

The drive was quiet, filled with nervous energy and excitement as you and Bucky pulled up to your new home. The moving truck rumbled behind you as Bucky parked, killing the engine. For a moment, you both just sat there, staring at the house—the house that was finally yours.

Bucky turned to you, his blue eyes sparkling. “You ready, sweet girl?”

You nodded, a grin spreading across your face. “I’ve been ready for this forever.”

The two of you got out of the truck, and Bucky jogged around to your side, grabbing your hand. He didn’t just walk with you to the front door—he pulled you, practically running up the steps like a kid. The key turned in the lock with a satisfying click, and when the door swung open, you stepped inside, the space echoing with potential.

It was empty, save for the dreams you’d both already poured into it. You stood in the middle of the living room, taking it all in—the sunlight streaming through the windows, the faint creak of the wooden floorboards under your feet.

“Home,” you whispered, your voice filled with awe.

Bucky grinned behind you. “Home,” he repeated, his voice just as soft.

Before you could say another word, he grabbed your waist and spun you around, lifting you clean off the floor. You squealed, half laughing, half scolding him. “Bucky! Put me down!”

“Never,” he said, his laughter infectious as he twirled you in a circle. “I’m never letting you go.”

He finally set you down but kept you close, one hand resting on your waist, the other moving to clasp yours. “I can't wait to set up the record player and dance with you right here every day for the rest of our lives” You looked up at him, he offered you a smile and he started swaying gently, humming a familiar tune.

“Wise men say,” he crooned, his voice low and warm, “only fools rush in…”

Your heart melted as he started to sing. His voice was soft but rich, and he spun you gently, holding you as if the moment might shatter if he let go.

“Bucky Barnes,” you said through your laughter, “you’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously in love with you,” he corrected, a cocky grin on his face as he dipped you low, his lips brushing yours briefly before pulling you upright again. “Now, don’t ruin my performance.”

You rested your forehead against his chest, laughing so hard you could barely breathe. But as his voice wrapped around you and his arms held you close, “I can't help falling in love with you….” the laughter gave way to something softer, something deeper. The kind of happiness you could only dream of.

When he finished singing, he kissed the top of your head and whispered, “We’re gonna fill this house with so much love, sweet girl.”

You tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes misty. “We already are.”

The quiet moment stretched between you, until your excitement bubbled over. “Okay, okay,” you said, breaking away with a grin. “I’m too excited to wait, we need to get to work.”

Bucky laughed, shaking his head. “You’re already putting me to work, huh?”

Grabbing his hand, you tugged him toward the door. “Yes! Come on. We’ve got a U-Haul to unload.”

He followed you willingly, his laughter echoing through the empty house. As you pulled him outside toward the moving truck, you couldn’t help but feel like every dream you’d ever had was finally coming true.

---

The video chat opened with Natasha’s face filling the screen as she adjusted her phone. “Okay, okay, show me the house!” she demanded with excitement, her voice cutting through the background noise of your unpacked boxes.

You laughed, holding up your phone and starting your tour. “Alright, here we go. Three bedrooms, two baths, and way more space than our shoebox of an apartment in New York.”

Natasha’s jaw dropped as you panned over the open-concept kitchen and living room, the hardwood floors gleaming in the sunlight pouring through the windows. “Wait, you’re telling me you got all this for cheaper than your old place?”

“Yup!” you said, swinging the camera toward the sprawling backyard. “And we have this now! Can you believe it?”

“Are you serious?” Natasha said, practically screeching. “That backyard alone is bigger than half of my apartment! I hate you. No, I love you, but I hate you.”

You giggled. “I know, I know. It’s insane. Boston real estate for the win.”

Natasha leaned closer to her screen, squinting as if trying to soak in every detail. “Okay, but more importantly, how are you and Bucky?”

Your face lit up as you lowered the phone, sitting cross-legged on the living room floor. “Nat, it’s… perfect. I mean, really, truly perfect. This house, this city, everything. It feels like this was meant to be.”

Natasha smiled knowingly. “I’m so happy for you. You deserve this. And work?”

You sighed, leaning back against the couch. “Bucky’s thriving. He’s already killing it, say’s he gets more done here at home.Me, though?” You laughed nervously. “I’m still trying to figure out what my manuscript is going to be about. It’s… a process.”

“You’ll get there,” Natasha said firmly. “You’re an amazing writer. You’ve always talked about this, and now you’re actually doing it. I’m so proud of you for taking the leap.”

Her words warmed your chest, and you smiled. “Thanks, Nat. That means a lot.”

Natasha took a sip of her coffee, shifting in her seat. “So, speaking of updates… Wanda says hi, by the way. She’s still adjusting to the time difference, she's out cold right about now. It’s crazy how people are just dropping like flies out of New York, maybe I’m next..”

“You don't mean that you love New York” you exclaimed, you then cleared your throat “Sooooo…”

“So…?” Natasha started, dragging out the word dramatically.

You narrowed your eyes at the screen. “So…”

Natasha smirked, feigning innocence. “What?”

“Quit beating around the bush, Romanoff,” you teased. “What’s going on with you and Steve?”

You watched as Natasha’s cheeks flushed pink, a telltale sign that something big had happened. She avoided your gaze for a moment before finally meeting it. “Okay, fine. We kissed….andhemayhaheaskedmetobehisgirlfriendandisaidyes”

Your jaw dropped, and you let out a high-pitched squeal, covering your mouth with one hand as your phone wobbled in the other. “Oh my God! Are you serious? Tell me everything!”

Bucky came running into the room, his brows furrowed with concern. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

You shoved your phone toward him, still squealing. “Nat and Steve kissed! And they’re together!”

Bucky’s face broke into a grin as he leaned over your shoulder. “About damn time!” he said, his voice full of amusement. “So he asked? Or did you? Because I know Stevie and he can be a little….shy.”

Natasha giggled on the screen, clearly enjoying your reactions. “He asked me to be his girlfriend, and I said yes, obviously.”

You clutched at your chest dramatically. “I’m so happy! This is the best news ever!”

Before Natasha could respond, Steve’s voice came from off-screen. “Let me guess, you told them.”

The camera jostled as Steve appeared behind Natasha, a bemused smile on his face. “You couldn’t wait, could you?”

“Nope,” Natasha said smugly, leaning into him. “I had to share the joy.”

Bucky shook his head, laughing. “You guys are killing me. But seriously, congrats. That’s huge.”

“Thanks,” Steve said, his tone warm but slightly embarrassed. “It’s been… good. Really good.”

You grinned, your heart full. “Are you guys still coming down in a couple of weeks for the housewarming party?”

“Absolutely,” Natasha said without hesitation. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“What about Wanda?” Steve asked.

You nodded. “She’s going to video chat in, but Sam will be here. He’s staying in our guest room.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her smirk playful. “And Steve? What about him? Couch duty?”

You shrugged dramatically. “We were going to make him sleep on the couch, but I guess since you were supposed to stay in the other guest room, and you're together….now you can share.”

Natasha laughed, and Steve looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Generous of you,” he muttered.

The call ended with more laughter and promises to see each other soon, leaving you and Bucky basking in the glow of the love and friendship. As you leaned into Bucky’s side, he kissed the top of your head. “We’re lucky, you know,” he murmured.

You smiled, your heart full. “Yeah, we really are.”

---

The smell of roasted vegetables and freshly baked bread filled your house, mixing with the sound of laughter and the clink of glasses. Your friends were gathered around the living room, sprawled on couches and chairs, with Wanda’s face glowing on your laptop propped up on the kitchen counter.

Sam raised his beer. “Okay, so who’s ready to admit this is the best housewarming party we’ve ever thrown?”

Natasha smirked, swirling her wine. “The bar wasn’t that high, Sam. Remember when you burned the appetizers at your ‘moving in’ party?”

“Hey,” Sam said, mock offended. “That was one time, and I’ll have you know those burnt bruschettas were very well-received.”

“By the garbage,” Natasha quipped, earning laughter from everyone.

Steve sat next to Natasha, his arm casually draped over the back of the couch. He was quiet but smiling, his eyes darting between you and Bucky. You could see how much lighter he seemed now, and it warmed your heart.

Bucky leaned into your ear as he set down a platter of roasted chicken. “So… now or after dinner?”

You glanced at the table, your nerves bubbling. “I don’t know. What do you think?”

Bucky chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Now’s as good a time as any, sweet girl. But I’m following your lead.”

You exhaled, giving him a shaky smile. “Okay, okay, so I’m not quite ready yet, so let’s just get through dinner first.”

The two of you sat down, joining the group as everyone dug into the meal. Conversation flowed easily—Steve and Natasha bantered about his terrible cooking skills, Sam shared hilarious stories about his coworkers, and Wanda occasionally chimed in from her video feed, laughing along with the group.

As plates were passed around and the smell of roasted vegetables and garlic filled the room, Sam leaned forward, pointing his fork at you. “So, how’s the book coming along, Hemingway?”

You paused mid-bite, a grin spreading across your face. “It’s going great, actually. I’ve got some solid ideas now.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “Oh? Care to share what those ideas are?”

You hesitated, glancing around the table before taking a sip of your drink. “Well… I’m writing about us.”

“Us?” Natasha echoed, leaning back in her chair with a smirk. “Like us us?”

You nodded, setting your glass down. “Yeah, our friendship. Our stories, our lives, my life. Everything we’ve been through together. I mean, think about it—if someone else heard half of our crazy adventures, they’d think it’s fiction.”

Sam, sitting across from you, suddenly wiped at his eye dramatically. “Damn, you’re getting soft on me, Wilson,” you said, your voice thick with mock emotion.

Everyone laughed as he reached across the table to give you a playful shove. You shoved him back, shaking your head with a grin.

“I mean it, though,” you said, leaning forward. “You guys have been such a huge part of my life. It just feels… right to put it all on paper.”

Sam grinned, his tone shifting to one of teasing. “Hey, but you better not put that one time in when I climbed up that window and lost my pants.”

The entire table erupted in laughter, with Natasha nearly choking on her drink. Steve buried his face in his hands, shaking his head, while Bucky leaned back, laughing so hard his shoulders shook.

From her video feed, Wanda chimed in with perfect timing, “But you do have a nice ass, Sam.”

That set everyone off again, the room filling with unrestrained laughter. Sam pointed at the screen, trying to look offended but failing miserably. “You better watch yourself, Maximoff. Compliments like that might go to my head.”

“Oh, please,” Wanda shot back with a wink. “Your ego doesn’t need the boost.”

Bucky leaned closer to you, chuckling softly in your ear. “You sure this book isn’t going to be more comedy than drama?”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his presence and the easy camaraderie around you. “Maybe a little of both. I mean, how can it not be with this group?”

Natasha raised her glass, her eyes sparkling with humor and affection. “Well, here’s to Y/N’s book. May it embarrass Sam for generations to come.”

“Cheers to that,” Wanda said from the screen, holding up her coffee mug.

“Okay, that’s it. No one’s allowed to read the manuscript until I approve it,” Sam declared, his finger wagging at you.

You laughed, raising your glass along with everyone else. “Cheers to us, then. And to the stories we’ve yet to make.”

As everyone clinked glasses, the laughter and chatter continued to fill the space, a perfect reminder of the bond you all shared—a bond strong enough to survive anything.

You kept stealing glances at Bucky, who squeezed your hand under the table every time you faltered. His warmth grounded you, even as your nerves built.

As the plates emptied and the group moved to the living room with drinks, your heart started to pound. Wanda’s voice piped up from the screen. “Okay, guys, I love you all, but this time zone is kicking my ass. I’m about to pass out.”

“Wait!” you blurted, standing up suddenly. Everyone froze, their eyes on you. Bucky came up behind you, resting his hand on your back.

“We, uh—” you started, your voice trembling. Bucky’s hand slipped down to your waist, and he gave you a reassuring nod. “We have something we want to share.”

Natasha sat up straighter, her wine glass perched precariously on her knee. Sam tilted his head, and Steve leaned forward, his brows furrowed. Wanda’s image on the screen leaned closer, her curiosity palpable.

You nodded at Bucky, giving him the okay and his hand moved to your stomach, resting there gently. “We’re having a baby,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion.

The room erupted.

Sam jumped to his feet, his empty beer can clattering to the floor. “No. Fucking. Way!” he shouted, his grin wide as he looked between the two of you. “Are you serious?”

Natasha grabbed Steve’s knee, her knuckles white. “I need to hear you say it. I need to hear it.”

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper as tears spilled down your cheeks. “I’m pregnant.”

Natasha let out a loud laugh, immediately covering her mouth as tears glistened in her eyes. “Oh my God! OH. MY. GOD! I’m so happy for you!” she cried, leaping off the couch to hug you.

Wanda let out a shriek from the computer. “I KNEW IT! That’s why you weren’t drinking wine earlier—it was your favorite too! I knew something was up! God I wish I could hug you, this isn't fair!”

Bucky laughed, his eyes red as he looked around at the chaos. Steve stood slowly, a smile spreading across his face. “Congratulations,” he said quietly, clapping Bucky on the back.

Sam pulled you into a bear hug, lifting you slightly off the ground. “This is insane. I’m gonna be Uncle Sammy. This is the best news ever!”

Natasha was sobbing openly now, clinging to you as she whispered, “I’m going to spoil that kid rotten.”

Wanda, still jumping up and down on the screen, shouted, “You better believe I’m knitting tiny hats already!”

The room was a whirlwind of hugs, laughter, and happy tears. Bucky stayed by your side, his hand never leaving yours, his smile brighter than you’d ever seen, he pulled you into his arms. “I never thought I could have this,” he murmured, his voice steady but filled with awe. “You. Us. This baby. It feels too good to be real.”

You smiled, tilting your head to look up at him. “It’s real, Bucky I promise. It's us…”

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his hands cradling your face. The sound of your friends’ laughter echoed faintly, a testament to the love and bond that had carried you all through.

“It’s us,” Bucky whispered against your lips, his voice steady and sure. “It’ll always be us.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #james barnes x you #james barnes fanfiction

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meazalykov · 3 months ago

Text

getting what she wants

lena oberdorf x reader

part four of five

summary: you wonder if she will take this as seriously as you will, since the unfortunate event will turn her life around

warnings: angst, acl injury

the atmosphere in washington, d.c. was buzzing, the crowd already filling up the stadium for the final friendly before the olympics.

the last tune-up match. the send off. you should’ve been excited, but your mind wasn’t entirely focused on the game ahead.

your family was here, your non-soccer playing friends have called off from their jobs just to celebrate your achievements.

however, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, though you hadn’t put your finger on it yet.

emma had decided to rest you for the first half, opting to try out some new formations and lineups before the olympics.

you were okay with it, knowing that your performance in new york had already solidified your spot in the starting lineup for the tournament. still, sitting on the bench with your legs jittering from the adrenaline that always hit just before a match wasn’t easy.

you sat between tierna and hal, the latter relatively new to the national team setup. hal’s wide eyes scanned the field, soaking it all in as she sat nervously beside you.

"y/n," she said, her voice soft, like she wasn’t sure if she should even speak to you.

you turn your head to look at her, with a light smile letting her know that she can speak to you anytime.

"i know you’re going through a hard time, according to the team. and i feel like you should hear this since we haven’t talked much but i’ve just... i’ve always admired you. as a midfielder, i mean. your control, your playmaking, it’s... i don’t know, you’re so goated."

you turned to her, surprised by the compliment. you hadn’t interacted with hal much since this was only her third call-up to the senior team. she was still finding her spot, but her genuine words made you smile, if only a little.

"thank you, you don’t understand how much that means to me right now" you replied, offering her a nod of acknowledgment.

"you’ve been doing great too. i can’t wait to play with you more often."

hal gave a nervous smile, then added, "i know there’s been... a lot of drama lately. with carmine and everything. but i want you to know that i’d like to be your friend, no matter what. i don’t care about the rumors that might make you look bad or any of that stuff."

her words took you off guard, and you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you.

it wasn’t easy to open up to new people, especially after your ex ruined your trust for a temporary period, but hal’s sincerity was a breath of fresh air.

"i’d like that," you said, meaning it.

"friends sound good."

the game started, and for the first half, you sat watching intently, analyzing the way emma was testing out the new players.

mexico was tough, just as they had been in the gold cup back in february, but you knew that your team had enough firepower to break them down eventually.

at halftime, it was still 0-0, and you were itching to get on the field.

emma must’ve sensed it, because in the 63rd minute, she called your name.

"y/n, you’re going in. i want you to play in your normal position, just like last game, prioritize the opportunity. stay in the line– i trust you."

you nodded, already mentally preparing yourself as you stripped off your warm-up gear and jogged to the sideline.

when the whistle blew, you stepped onto the pitch replacing rose lavelle, ready to make an impact.

within minutes, you found your rhythm, linking up with mallory, lynn, and sophia effortlessly. you could feel the game starting to open up, and you knew it was only a matter of time before the breakthrough came.

and then, in the 78th minute, it did.

lynn made a run down the left wing, drawing two defenders toward her. you saw the space open up in the middle and called for the ball.

she cut it back to you, and without hesitation, you took a touch, then drilled it into the bottom corner of the net.

the goalkeeper dives too late to save it.

the crowd erupted as you run to the corner to celebrate. you see your family and personal friends and give them a heart with your hands, happy to see them here.

your teammates swarming you. it wasn’t a hat trick like the last game, but it was your fourth goal in two games, and it felt good—really good.

after the final whistle, with a 1-0 victory secured, you headed back to the locker room.

the energy was high, the team buzzing with excitement, but there was a heavy pit forming in your stomach.

something didn't feel right before the game, and you couldn’t shake it.

as you sat on the bench, wiping the sweat and grass dirt from your face, lindsey walked over, her expression serious. she motioned for you to follow her, pulling you into one of the private areas of the locker room.

"hi?" you asked, sensing something was wrong.

is she confronting you about the drama? you weren’t sure. lindsey reassured you many times that everyone still loves you, so you hope there were no new problems now.

lindsey hesitated for a moment, her eyes searching yours before she spoke.

"i didn’t want to tell you before the game, but... lena got injured in germany’s friendly against austria. it’s her knee. popp thinks it’s her acl."

your heart dropped into your stomach, the words hitting you like a freight train.

"what?" your voice cracked, panic already rising in your chest.

"she’s in the hospital back in germany right now," lindsey continued softly.

"i’m sorry, y/n."

you didn’t think twice. without another word, you grabbed your phone and hurried outside to find a quieter space.

it was 11:30 p.m. in dc, which meant it was 5:30 am in germany.

lena would still be awake, especially if she was in the hospital.

with shaky hands, you dialed her number. the phone rang twice before she picked up, her voice groggy but filled with pain.

"hey," lena murmured.

"i was hoping you’d call. nice goal by the way, i saw it on tv."

"lena, i just found out," you said, your voice tight as you tried to hold back the wave of emotions crashing over you.

"your acl? are you okay? i—i should’ve called sooner but i had that game—"

"i’m... i don’t know," lena admitted, her voice breaking slightly.

"it hurts like hell, and i couldn’t sleep. i was supposed to start my first game with you at bayern after the summer, but now... now i don’t even know when i’ll be back."

your heart ached hearing the defeat in her voice.

lena was one of the toughest people you knew, but this was breaking her.

"i’m so sorry," you whispered, your throat tight.

"i’ll be there for you, okay? after the olympics, i’ll help you with your recovery. i’ll make time, i promise."

"you don’t have to do that," lena said quietly, though you could hear the gratitude in her tone.

"i don’t want to be a burden on you. you have so much going on—" she switches to german.

"lena," you cut her off, your voice firm.

"you’re not a burden. you’re a priority. i want to help you. i’ll be there for you, whatever you need. i promise."

there was a long pause on the other end before lena spoke again.

"thank you," she whispered. "i... i don’t know what i’d do without you right now."

you sat there, the weight of her words sinking in. the truth was, you didn’t know what you’d do without her either.

shes been in contact with you everyday since that night. unless there were training or games, there wasn’t a single long-period where you weren’t texting about something– or anything.

despite everything—despite the complicated mess you’d been through with your ex, and the uncertainty that had surrounded your relationship with lena—you realized just how deep your feelings for her ran.

you weren’t official with lena. not yet. but the way your heart was breaking for her right now told you everything you needed to know.

after a long pause, lena spoke again, her voice softer now.

"i’ll still make time for you, even with everything going on."

"no," you said firmly. "i’m going to be there for you, okay? i’ll help you recover. you won’t have to go through this alone."

"thank you," lena whispered again, her voice filled with emotion.

you sat there, the phone still pressed to your ear, your mind racing. this wasn’t how you’d imagined things would go.

lena was supposed to start fresh at bayern after the summer, and now... now everything had changed.

when you returned to the locker room, the news had already spread. the atmosphere was a mix of excitement from the win and the heaviness of what had just happened to lena.

your teammates, especially the ones who knew her well like tierna, gave you sympathetic looks, but no one said much.

as the team prepared to leave for d.c., the weight of everything that had happened in the past few weeks hit you all at once.

from the messy breakup with sloan to lena’s injury, it felt like everything was spinning out of control.

and yet, despite it all, one thing became clear to you as you boarded the plane for the olympics:

you wanted to be with lena. not just as a friend, not just as someone helping her recover, but you wanted to be hers. and her to be yours.

the thing is– you weren’t sure how it would all work out with lena, but you knew one thing for sure: you were in too deep to turn back now.

when all of this was over, you and lena could figure it out together.

the olympics came and went in a blur, the pressure mounting as you advanced through the tournament.

the uswnt played like machines under emma hayes, and before you knew it, you found yourself in the final against brazil, the stakes higher than ever.

the atmosphere at the olympic final against brazil was electric. you were in the 2020 olympics with the team, but winning bronze doesn’t compare to this.

you stood shoulder to shoulder with lindsey and sam, eyes fixed on the opponents you’ve had faced so many times before.

brazil was known for their speed and creativeness, but you knew alyssa naeher was more than prepared to keep them at bay.

today wasn’t just another game — it was the olympic final. and you were more determined than ever to bring home gold. just to prove to yourself that nothing could stop your game, not your cheating ex— nobody.

but as the national anthem played, you couldn’t help but think of lena.

you hadn’t spoken to her much over the last few days, mostly because she was in the thick of her recovery then traveling to meet up with her national team.

though, lena was in the audience. you knew that. lena visited her german teammates as they won the bronze medal match against spain. to say that you were happy for them would've been an understatement.

now the germans were here before the ceremony, ready to watch you put on an outstanding performance for gold.

your heart ached when you thought of her, the injury that had thrown both of your worlds off course.

she was supposed to be thriving, ready to become a star at bayern, and now she was sidelined for months.

but right now, you had a job to do.

the whistle blew, and the final kicked off.

brazil came out swinging, full of energy, and the first twenty minutes were a back-and-forth battle in the midfield.

every time adriana or marta touched the ball, your heart skipped a beat, but you knew alyssa was solid in the back.

the triple espresso were pushing the attack, but brazil’s defense was holding strong.

at around the 30-minute mark, you found yourself in space, sam coffey threading a pass your way.

your first touch was sharp, pushing the ball ahead of you as you glanced up to see the keeper off her line. the triple espresso was blocked by defenders, so without a second thought, you wound up and took the shot from just outside the box, sending the ball curling toward the top corner.

the sound of the net rippling sent a surge of adrenaline through your veins, and the stadium exploded in celebration. 1-0.

you threw your arms up, letting the emotion wash over you as your teammates rushed to engulf you in a hug.

something inside of you wanted to cry in joy– but you held it in. there was still work to be done, and brazil wasn’t going to back down easily.

the rest of the first half was intense.

brazil pressed hard, but the u.s. defense, led by alyssa, naomi, emily, crystal, and tierna, stood strong.

when brazil did manage to get a shot off, alyssa was there, calm and collected, making crucial saves to maintain the lead.

at halftime, the locker room was a mixture of adrenaline and focus.

the 1-0 lead felt good, but you knew it wasn’t enough. brazil was dangerous, and if you let up for even a second, they’d capitalize.

emma gathered the team for a quick pep talk, her voice steady but full of fire. you listened, making sure that you put on the best performance of your career in this second half.

as the second half kicked off, you could feel the tension.

brazil came out with renewed energy, and for the first 15 minutes, they pinned you back, testing alyssa with shots from distance.

she held firm, pulling off save after save, keeping the clean sheet intact.

you cheered, externally or internally, everytime.

in the 65th minute, emma made a tactical switch, bringing in fresh legs to maintain the pace. fortunately, you weren’t subbed out.

the game shifted again, and you found yourself back in the attack. mallory broke down the wing, flying past her defender, and whipped in a cross toward the penalty spot.

you were already there, timing your run perfectly. the ball floated in, and without hesitating, you leapt into the air, connecting with the header.

it wasn’t the hardest shot you’d ever taken, but it was placed perfectly, tucking into the bottom corner past brazil’s keeper.

2-0.

the stadium erupted, louder this time, the roar deafening as you run around the pitch with your arms up high. your teammates chased then mobbed you once again. most teammates from the bench even jumping up to hug you in celebration.

a two-goal lead in the olympic final. you could taste the gold now.

with brazil rattled, the game started to open up. there were more chances on both sides, but your defense was unbreakable.

alyssa, naomi, and emily were locked in, keeping brazil at bay with every attack they mounted. it felt like nothing could get past them, and you could see the frustration building in the brazilian players.

as the clock ticked down, the final whistle was nearing, but you kept your foot on the gas.

brazil was desperate, throwing numbers forward, and that left them exposed at the back.

in the 88th minute, you found yourself in possession again, just outside the box.

sophia made a darting run to pull the defenders away, giving you just enough space to take a shot. you faked to your right, cutting back inside, and then unleashed a low, driven strike toward the far post.

the ball hit the bar, but trinity recovered it and tapped it behind the net.

3-0. the gold was yours.

the crowd exploded in celebration as you dropped to your knees, overwhelmed with emotion.

trinity laid on top of you, crying with you.

your teammates swarmed you, hugging you, lifting you up, the joy infectious. you had done it. olympic champions.

as the final whistle blew, the team celebrated like there was no tomorrow, hugging, crying, laughing.

you had your gold medal moment, standing on top of the world.

your hands were on your face as your sobs came out uncontrollably. if you told yourself a month ago that you’d be this happy and relieved, you wouldn’t believe it.

lindsey and tierna comforted you as you stood up to go to the locker room, getting ready to shower before the ceremony.

as you had a moment to settle down, your thoughts drifted back to lena.

you hadn’t realized how deep your feelings for her had grown.

the fact that she was there, the fact that she was hundreds of feet away in the stadium, recovering from an injury that could derail her season instead of celebrating bronze with her team, weighed heavily on your heart.

later that night, after all the celebrations, after the medals had been handed out and the photos had been taken, you found a quiet moment to yourself.

the weight of the gold medal around your neck was a reminder of everything you’d worked for, but the ache in your chest was for something, someone else.

you pulled out your phone, glancing at the time.

lena was probably asleep by now after partying with her national team, but you couldn’t help it. you needed to talk to her.

you dialed her number, your heart pounding as the phone rang. after a few rings, she picked up, her voice groggy.

"hey," she mumbled.

"you did it!" she cheered through her tired voice.

"yeah," you whispered, your throat tight.

"we won."

there was a long pause on the other end, and you could hear lena shift slightly, probably trying to get comfortable in her bed.

you know that she is someone who sleeps on her stomach, so the brace might make it hard for her.

"i’m so proud of you," she said softly.

"i wish you were here with me," you admitted, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

"this doesn’t feel right without you, even if you do have a different nationality than me." you giggled.

"i wish i was there too," she replied, her voice filled with longing.

"but... i’ll be here when you get back. we’ll figure everything out then. until then, please enjoy your win."

you smiled, tears stinging your eyes. "i’m coming home to you. as soon as all of this is done."

"i’ll be waiting," lena whispered.

as you hung up after the goodnights, the weight of everything hit you all at once.

the olympics, the gold, lena’s injury, your breakup with sloan, the confusion about what you and lena really were—it was all so much.

one thing was clear in your mind as you stared down at the gold medal around your neck: it didn’t matter what obstacles lay ahead now.

you moved on from whatever was in the past and you were in this with lena now, for the long run.

part five, the final part, here

#lena oberdorf #lena oberdorf x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #gerwnt #bayern frauen #bayern munich

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lil13 · 2 years ago

Text

REHEARSAL - j. champion

You're an actress on Scream VI and your scene partner is frequently Jack Champion. The two of you soon have to film a scene where your characters give into their tension and confess their feelings for the first time, ending in a kiss — and the directors want you to rehearse outside of set. You knew you'd have to kiss Jack eventually, but the thought of rehearsing the scene alone with him made you nervous.

•

It's nothing, right?

You had simply just invited your castmate over to your apartment to rehearse a scene that the directors asked you to rehearse. No big deal.

Jack Champion was one of your castmates and happened to be playing the best friend of your character. Except, both characters had secretly fallen for each other and confess their feelings, ending in a steamy kiss. Apparently, when you'd gone to film the scene the day before, the directors weren't convinced with your performance — they'd even called cut before you got to the kiss.

You had hyped yourself up all day for nothing.

A couple weeks ago you'd confided in Devyn, one of your other castmates — she played a character named Anika. You told the girl that you were pretty sure you'd fallen for your castmate and were freaked out about it. Devyn assured you that this feeling was okay, and if you had fallen for Jack, it wasn't the end of the world.

So, when you'd gotten nervous about your kiss scene, you confided in Devyn then again too. She assured you once again, that you'd be okay.

When you heard a knock on the wood of your apartment door, all air left your lungs.

You wiped the sweat on your palms off on your sweatpants before walking — nervously — over to the door. You'd tried on approximately 5 different outfits before settling on sweatpants and a tank top, even told Jack to dress down as well.

"Hi." Jack smiled once you opened the door.

Your heart skipped a beat and you immediately knew that running this scene would be difficult tonight. But alas, you pushed through.

"Hi." you echoed, stepping aside so Jack could step into the apartment.

Closing the door behind him, you told Jack where he could drop his things. When you saw him looking around, you remembered he'd only been here with the group, so he hadn't really had the chance to look around. You couldn't help yourself but walk right up next to him, nudging his body with your own. It was like you were drawn to him.

"Like it?" you questioned.

He nodded quickly, glancing down at you. "It's cute."

After a couple minutes of small talk, you agreed to get started. Your characters were standing during the scene, so you and Jack stood in the free floor space between the couch and the small kitchen table you had.

You flipped a switch inside of yourself and began to act as Piper, your character in the movie.

"Um, hello? Are you forgetting something?" This scene was supposed to take place right after a frat party.

You'd gone with Ethan and the group to this party. Whilst there, you and Ethan had flirted some, like the two of you had been doing for the past few months. Long story short, Piper and Ethan had been friends since high school, both moving to New York for college. Piper had always felt something toward Ethan, but being with him at college and seeing how girls looked at him really solidified her feelings.

Jack furrowed his eyebrows, "What do you mean?"

"For fucks sake! When you went to find Tara with Chad I went to get another drink and when I came back all 6 of you were gone. You left me at the party." Your character was supposed to be out done with his. "What happened to never leaving friends alone at parties? I could be upstairs fucking a rando right now for all you care."

His face contorted as he stepped closer. "Piper, i'm sorry! Chad just grabbed me and we left... I forgot."

"Wow."

You were supposed to be mad, but also hurt.

"Piper..."

You shook your head, "No, no, no. Don't Piper me. Ever since we became friends with those people you've put me on the back burner! Do you know how much that hurts?"

Jack reached out to put a hand on your arm, but you jerked back. His facial expression fell.

Even though you knew it was acting, it still made your heart hurt.

"I'm really sorry, I just. Things have changed since we moved here."

You cocked an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. "Like what?"

"Us." his voice was quiet.

Piper was supposed to stay quiet at this point, taking a step or two backwards. This was Ethan's turn to speak.

"Piper, we've known each other since freshman year and I just... the way I, see you now. It's different."

The kiss was coming up soon and your heart was going crazy. But what you didn't know, was so was Jack's.

"Different, huh?"

Jack's eyes went wide, mimicking Ethan's panic. "Good different! Piper, these past couple of months i've seen you differently than before and it scares the shit out of me. It's like every part of me is itching to be around you 24/7, and when you're finally close it feels like nothing bad will ever happen to me."

You cracked a smile, this was when Piper was supposed to realize that Ethan felt the same. Your heart skipped a beat, thinking about how amazing it would be if Jack felt the same way as you. But that would never happen in a million years.

"You like me." Jack swallowed harshly, Ethan now realized that was Piper was saying was right. He 'liked' his best friend. "You like me!" The second time was Piper convincing herself.

Jack nervously scratched the back of his neck, "Yeah, I guess I do."

This was when you kissed.

Piper was meant to initiate it. So, you took a deep breath and followed through. If you were meant to rehearse a scene, why not rehearse all of it?

You closed the space between you by walking those few steps, your hand grabbing the back of Jack's neck and pulling his face to yours. Your eyes fluttered closed right as your lips met in the middle.

Butterflies. Fireworks. All of the above.

The kiss only lasted a few seconds before Jack pulled away, a smirk on his lips. That's when the scene was supposed to end.

You wiped your mouth off with the back of your hand, taking a couple of steps backwards. "I think we did a pretty good job, think the directors will be satisfied." You were nodding as you stepped back some, creating space between you.

Jack stepped forward, "I, uh... I think we should practice again."

He did? But you'd done so well. "Which part?" You were genuinely curious.

The boy was quiet now. Something that was rare.

"J?" you called him by the nickname you'd bestowed upon him. Unoriginal, but you liked it.

His eyes wouldn't meet yours. "The kiss?"

He'd been so quiet you almost missed it. But you hadn't. He had asked to rehearse the kiss.

Suddenly bold, you decided to play dumb. "The kiss? I thought we did fine, why should we practice? We can if you want to, though."

Jack saw right through your ploy.

You mentally cursed yourself. But the blush on his cheeks clued you into the fact that maybe you weren't the only one with feelings at the moment.

With your boldness still out to play, you continued. "Or, you could just kiss me as Jack and not Ethan?" This made Jack's eyes go dark.

A smirk twitched on his lips as he crossed the floor, ducking down to crash his lips into yours. He immediately picked you up, your legs wrapping around his torso as he held you as close as possible.

You couldn’t really believe this was happening. Jack was actually kissing you. Devyn was gonna freak out.

Your fingers went into his hair, playing with and tugging on his curls. You’d dreamed about the day you’d get to play with his hair and that day was finally here.

Jack walked over to the couch, his lips never leaving yours, and sat down with you now in his lap. His kiss was rough and passionate, but everything else was so gentle. The way his hands ran of your body? It felt magical, but he was so careful, almost as if he didn’t want to do something wrong.

After a couple minutes, you pulled away. A frown flashed on Jack’s lips and you couldn’t help but smile. Your hands held his cheeks while his rested on your hips, his thumbs caressing your bare skin due to your tank top riding up.

“Did I ever tell you that I think you’re really cute?” you laughed.

Jack blushed, for the second time that night, and dropped his head against your chest to hide it. You laughed even harder picking his face up so he’d have to look you in the eye again.

He tried to fight against you, but you won. “And when you blush it’s even cuter.” This time you kissed him.

When you pulled away, his face followed yours, almost as if he wasn’t ready for the kiss to be over.

“In all honesty, i’m pretty sure that scene went badly yesterday because I was nervous.” he chuckled, lifting a hand from your hip to tuck a strand of fallen hair behind your ear. “And until you said I could kiss you as Jack I still was nervous. I like you so much, Y/N.”

“Would you say you’re itching to be around me 24/7 and when i’m around it feels like nothing bad will happen?”

Jack’s jaw dropped and he playfully squeezed your hips, “Are you quoting my character to me?”

“I might be.” You said with a smirk.

A squeal came from your lips when Jack pushed you down onto the couch beside him, his hands attacking your sides as he tickled you. Laughter poured from both of your mouths. All you wanted was to kiss him again, his brown eyes looked like coming home. He made you feel like nothing bad would ever happen.

Eventually, you managed to control the situation and pull Jack’s face down to yours. Your lips connected in a way that it felt like they were always meant to. This was something you could definitely get used to.

“Oh my god, what did I walk into?”

You and Jack both made noises of surprise, the boy falling down onto you, his head tucking in your neck. Your hands held his head, keeping his face out of sight of your guest.

“Devyn, hey.” you casually greeted the girl, “I forgot I gave you a key.”

Jack pinched your waist at your confession. You pulled his hair in retaliation.

The girl laughed, “I came over to get my phone charger I left here last night, didn’t think i’d walk in to you hooking up. I know you’re freaking out though.”

“We’re not—”

“Bye!” She grabbed the cord and walked back out the door.

You were embarrassed, taking your hands away from Jack’s head and covering your face with them. Your face was burning in embarrassment.

Jack propped himself up, looking down at you, “Freaking out, huh?”

“Ok, I might’ve ranted to Devyn about how much I liked you. Shut up.”

#ghostface #jack champion #scream #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #jack champion x reader #jack champion x y/n #avatar #avatar the way of water

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