#to me this means the albums almost done | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

palskippah · 21 days ago

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Hi! Nimona told him to do a thumbs up (also I hope you get the reference image because I couldn't find it ajkdsad)

There's some mpreg headcanons and drawings under the cut! :D

By the way the limit of images is 30 so I had to make some longer images with comics to save space and put more drawings 😭

-Also, small continuation from the previous drawing:

(I wrote baby album but maybe it should be those albums that people keep of the pregnancy process ajskd)

-When Ballister first started showing, he was a bit insecure about it, but Ambrosius helped with that, in the romantic sense of worshipping and whatever, but also like this:

Translation (did my best to see how to translate it sorry sdjksd it works better in spanish)

1 Ballister: I think it's too soon to be getting fat- Ambrosius: You know what else is getting fat? 2 Ambrosius: Who said that

-Ballister goes through the denial of needing new clothes, so imagine him still wearing the stuff he usually wears and Nimona coming from behind and picking at the clothes by his shoulder and going in a high-pitched voice, as if the shirt was talking - I'm tired, boss while Ballister swats her away and say, leave me alone, it still fits me >:(

(it doesn't)

>Also Ballister absolutely refusing to wear maternity clothes, the only one he got he was like, wearing it and looking very unimpressed, and Ambrosius' like, you don't like it? :( and Ballister says, No. It's ugly as fuck >:(

>So, he just gets bigger shirts and stretch-ier pants and that's it. Also he gets an oversized hoodie and he says that's gonna be his best friend the rest of the pregnancy, and both Nimona and Ambrosius gasp offendedly at that.

So-

Ambrosius (turning to look at Nimona): What the- hey, I am his best friend. Nimona: Course not! You lost that privilege with what happened that one time (she means the movie events, more than five years ago) Ballister: Ambrosius' my best friend, Nimona. Ambrosius: HAH >:D Nimona: Aw :( Ballister: Because you're my sidekick :) Nimona: :D Ambrosius: Hey, what now- that sounds better than best friend :(

-Ballister during most of the pregnancy is like, woo baby :) but at the very last months he's at least half of the time pissed off, tired and done with being pregnant.

(my incredible math skills in the next point)

>70% of that time he's mad at Ambrosius (who made him pregnant), 20% mad at Nimona (who consciously (and sometimes unconsciously) gets on his nerves) and the remaining 10 he's pissed off at Baby (and he gets sad about that one, because he's just a baby, so he redirects it at Ambrosius instead 😔)

>Ambrosius does his best to be of help but usually there's nothing he can do aside from being there (and sometimes getting out of Ballister's sight, if he's really angry- in the sense of 'I don't even want to see you now')

>Most of the time Ballister just cools off.

-Also Ambrosius giving him massages, sometimes randomly on his shoulders or his feet, and sometimes something more elaborated, like Ballister laying down and him using body oil, setting the ambient and all to massage his back (and Ballister almost always falls asleep in those).

>Sometimes tho he just does a 'chop chop chop' at his shoulders (it doesn't do anything besides amusing Ballister and keeping him company)

>Also Nimona said that of course he'd just randomly start chopping Ballister while Ballister does nothing about it, so Ambrosius starts chopping her instead

(made these two drawings with like three weeks of difference ajdkad)

(N/SFW thingies on the next four points and the next four images)

-Also with that previous point imagine Ballister waking up all angry, and Ambrosius just not knowing what he can do for him to stop being mad, but it turns out that Ballister had just woken up horny and pent-up.

>And once he realizes, he's like Ambrosius... (with intentions of getting some), and Ambrosius is like 🧍? because a second ago Ballister wasn't even looking at him.

-Also with this, Ballister is just very much hornier now (after the first trimester which was the worst) and Ambrosius doesn't mind at all - except when his jaw gets sore or he's running late for work because they lost track of time and also other situations ajsdks but usually he's delighted.

>(In the drawing Ballister just crossed one leg over the other once he heard Ambrosius coming in, because he can't maintain the position too long without getting uncomfortable sdjksj)

-Whenever Ballister is like >:c and looking in Ambrosius' direction, he immediately assumes that his husband is angry at him.

>Y'know when you look intensely at someone so they feel your gaze and look at you back? Ballister here is trying to apply that, but it doesn't work bc of the previous point askdad

-I had written sometime (I think) about them blaming Baby on literally anything that has more or less to do with him. If Ballister's crying, if he forgets stuff, if Nimona coddles Ballister too much and pisses him off, if Ambrosius wastes all the cleaning product in two weeks because he had been cleaning too much (he's nesting and realizes that sometime later), if Nimona and Ballister eat the weirdest stuff that at least he wouldn't eat in normal circumstances- and a long etc.

-During Ballister's pregnancy, Nimona works the most she had ever worked in her existence (in the biscuit factory):

-Both Nimona and Ambrosius are the most supportive c: yippie. Supportive husband/best friend and supportive sidekick/friend/sibling/etc

>An example would be of Ballister being tired, and if the time allows, the other two will immediately suggest a nap.

>Their collective naps usually last hours and they wake up disoriented, sweaty, with drool and the sheets marked on their faces.

>Also they wake up almost always stacked, Nimona always under the other two.

Translation

Nimona and Ballister: (snoring) Ambrosius: Fuck- what year is it? (tries to lift himself up)

-Also Nimona is the self-assigned pregnancy pillow, and at first Ballister had refused to let her do that, but as a sidekick she took it upon herself to make sure that her boss was comfy and could sleep well - and Ballister reminded her that that's not what sidekicks are for. She said, fuck off I'll do it anyways >:c

>Anyways he sleeps great with her help and earns himself a huge told you so from Nimona.

>I had written a thingy where just when she woke up she was like good morning boss :D while Ballister also said good morning and she hugged him while pushing Ambrosius away, even out of bed. I can't remember where I left it but once I find it, I'll see if it's good for posting pipipi Also Ballister and Ambrosius are corny husbands

>Also here I drew my vague idea of a bear bc I was too lazy to look for Nimona bear references sowwy

-Nimona sometimes shapeshifts into Ballister to make fun of him.

(This one joke gets lost in translation which is a shame but I'm gonna share the comic anyways sdjs)

>(She's messing around about names, doing a play in words using Gloreth's name while Ballister is already warning her to stop)

>Nimona urges them to get a name soon because Baby is almost born, and they're like yeah chill we're on it - and they're both sitting on the sofa, with Ballister's legs over Ambrosius' lap, while Ballister goes through their list on his tablet and Ambrosius focuses on giving him a massage on his feet.

They're like-

Ballister: So, Cyril? Ambrosius: No, my horse at the Institute was called that. Ballister: Right, then not that one... What about Casper? Ambrosius: Hmm... no. Ballister: Why not? Ambrosius: I don't know, I just don't really like it. Do you? Ballister: Eh, it's alright, I guess. I don't think Baby looks like a Casper, though Nimona: You don't even know how he looks yet! Ballister: You shut up, kid >:v Ballister: So, what about…

And they're making nearly to none progress but yeah sjdsd

>Also imagine Nimona (as Ballister) imitating what he does now that he's pregnant but x10 times more.

Translations

1 AUGHH- MY BACK 2 FUCKING AMBROSIUS! 3 Ambrosito? Can you get me a sweet treat? 🥺 4 I'M HUGE WAAA

>And while Ballister is like wtf I don't act like that, he turns to Ambrosius like, do I act like that? 😥 And Ambrosius, who was laughing to himself, goes, well... not so intensely, which is good enough for Ballister.

>But Nimona points out to what Ballister is eating with a mocking smile (and it is weird to be mocked by a version of himself that has a pink strand on his hair, but whatever), and he's like ? what? and realizes that he did ask for a sweet treat almost like Nimona depicted he does, because he did pull the big sparkly eyes and he did call Ambrosius Ambrosito while at it.

>Then he's wondering if he really complains about his back like that (he does, but as Ambrosius said, he isn't so intense about it, usually just holding his lower back and throwing his head back as he winces. Normal)

>(the yelling insults at Ambrosius is definitely not true. But he does throw daggers at him with his eyes when he's angry, he has to admit to himself)

>Now, about crying because he feels huge- yes. Very much true, but he doesn't wail. Just sobs and cries a river like the sensible, serious adult he is.

-Also that thing of knights don't cry and whatever. This one knight does cry, and he cries a lot (at least while he's pregnant).

>He cried once because he dreamt that Nimona was a little spider and even though he warned Ambrosius to be careful, he accidentally crushed her and he woke up not only incredibly sad but also upset with Ambrosius, even though he was aware that it was silly to get mad with him over a dream.

>Nimona was like boss :( while hugging him, and Ambrosius had to scoot a bit away because Ballister didn't even want to look at him as he wept. Ambrosius said a lot of reassuring words of I'm sorry, I think I didn't see her :( while Ballister was like, but I warned you so many times :'[

>Then he was like, I promise you, I'd never hurt Nimona. And Nimona herself said, yeah boss, I'd crush him first, don't you worry about it :) and Ballister said, but I couldn't protect you :''[ while hugging her harder.

>And both Nimona and Ambrosius are (internally) like, ohh, so that's what it's about.

>Anyways, just a bunch of hugging and comforting gets him to feel a little less sad and also Nimona saying, but you're great at protecting me now :D so, there's all that sdjksd

-Sometimes Ballister just breaks down over seemingly the most trivial stuff too (which is usually just the last straw over a bunch of other stuff going on)

Translation

1 Ambrosius: Balli? What happened? D: Ballister (with one eyeline going up and the other going down): Ambrosito, my eyeline's crooked* *the straw that broke the camel's back (his hair isn't cooperating) (his back hurts) (done) (clothes feel uncomfortable) (the baby won't stay still) 2 Ambrosius (doing Ballister's eyeline): Stay very still, love (focused) 3 (they're in front of the mirror) Ballister (laughing his ass off): BUT HOW DID YOU MAKE IT EVEN MORE CROOKED?! Ambrosius (embarrassed): Aw Ballister (holding his belly): Ow, Baby, don't kick me, sorry, sorry! I'll stay still now-

>(Y'know when a pregnant person laughs the baby inside gets all shaken skdsd I find it funny, so imagine Baby being like ??!! because Ballister keeps laughing too hard and shaking him all around and his kicks are like him going, stay the fuck still D:<) (Ballister's still weepy but now he's crying with laughter, which is better than him crying from being overwhelmed)

-Also Ballister's very scared of giving birth but he's very good at pretending that Baby will simply materialize in his arms rather than him having to push him out.

(Drawings based over this)

Translation

1 Ballister happy because his baby is almost born 2 (Remembers that he has to give birth to him)

-The day that he was in labor and all, imagine the water just breaking and stuff and Nimona being like 'okay everyone DON'T PANIC' while panicking and also Ballister's panicking too (Ambrosius' at work and when he's told he also panics and arrives at the hospital in record time still wearing his armor. The power of first-time father panic)

(But someone gotta be not panicking in the situation, so Ambrosius calms the fuck down and becomes the calming presence that Ballister can rely on c: also Nimona calms down too and goes back to being herself and is very good at distracting Ballister while he goes through contractions and the hours before pushing.)

>Also y'know how in TV sometimes someone else imitates the pregnant person's breathing exercises by going huff huff huff quickly ajsdkjd

>Also Ballister going Nimona what about the bags and also don't carry me there?! and her going shit right and ignoring the second half, then returning for the bags and grabbing them, all while holding Ballister like a doll (a doll with a little doll inside SJDS pregnant barbie)

En español pensaba que fuera = AYÚDENLO, SE LE SALE LA WAWA - NIMONA DEJA DE HACER SHOW

-Wrote a lil something about Baby's birth and Ballister going through kinda a rollercoaster of emotions because at the very beginning of the pushing stage he almost had a panic attack, but then everyone in the room helped him calm down, and when he thought everything was going great, the doctor offered Ambrosius to receive their baby, and of course his husband was very excited about it and said yes, getting dressed up in the medical gown, the facemask, the gloves and all that.

(Initially everything after that was supposed to go swiftly, but I thought, no, what if Ambrosius faints like some dads do? and after watching a TikTok of a woman whose partner did faint and they had to pause her birth to hold him up because he was like over 6 feet tall, I was like hell yeah that's it)

>When Ambrosius finally got between Ballister's legs to look, his blood pressure went the fuck down. And since he's pretty tall and the nurse that tried to catch him was pretty short, the other one had to join in and then the doctor too to avoid him slamming on the ground. The thing was that Ambrosius was clearly fighting very hard against unconsciousness, giving the three people holding him false hope about him finally holding his own weight, making them almost drop him multiple times.

>Sensibly, the situation was kinda scary, because the three people assisting his baby's birth were busy trying to hold his husband from fainting. Said husband was clearly fighting with everything he got to keep himself conscious, and Ballister could very much feel his baby crowning.

>But seeing three short people trying to hold Ambrosius up and yelping when they almost dropped him several times, and remembering that Ambrosius had been so excited about it but hadn't been able to even stand the view, and feeling pretty nervous because his main emotional support couldn't even keep himself awake-, made him crack up.

>So, he's laughing out loud and going every once in a while, owfuck- because it still hurts like a bitch, while the other three keep going, YOU'LL DROP HIM. BE CAREFUL, SIR?? SIR, CAN YOU HEAR ME? and Ambrosius' like, yea- (faints again)

>(they're well aware that they gotta deliver the baby, so they're doing their best to hurry Ambrosius to get out of the way)

>The whole thing had made Ballister's body feel weak from the laughter, and he had to try and calm down to have strength again and push the baby out.

>As you'd guess, Ambrosius didn't receive their baby, and had to sit down and eat something sweet to not faint again, but he managed to stay on his feet well enough to cut the umbilical cord yippie.

>So anyways, Baby out, wrapped and all that, Ballister kept laughing more quietly about it and saying that they should mark the date in the calendar to celebrate Ambrosius fainting over almost delivering their baby. And Ambrosius' like hmm, I don't know Balli, maybe we could use this date for our son's birthday, don't you think? and Ballister's like OH RIGHT and now started laughing at himself.

I keep thinking of new stuff that contradicts what I already have posted, sowwy

>Imagine Ambrosius practically begging Ballister to not tell Nimona, while the other says she'd love to know but also is aware that she'd never let Ambrosius live it down, so he agrees on not telling her. Both eventually tell both Nimona and Baby when the latter is older and inquired about his birth, and indeed, Nimona loved the anecdote, and never let Ambrosius live it down, since then.

-Ideas about Nimona infiltrating the room in the form of a nurse after Baby is born and blowing up her cover when she commented on the baby's nose being just like Gol- Mr. Goldenheart's. And also, his hair being black like Bo- Mr. Goldenheart's.

>At the beginning when they had been admiring their baby, Ambrosius had said, he got your hair D': pipipi (he cried the second Baby got placed in his arms, got a drawing of that but I don't like how it came out wah, Ambrosius' wearing a facemask and being all tear-eyed pipipi) and Ballister had said, he got your nose :D but Ambrosius had said no? that's just a baby's nose, how can you even tell. But after Nimona commented on it, Ballister's saying told you so, it's your nose, while Ambrosius' like, Mr. Goldenheart could be either of us (both smiling amusedly because Nimona's too silly and they clearly know it's her, but she's all idk who's Nimona?)

-Also, I don't know how to make that work with the idea that when she got kicked out to the hall for the pushing bit, she went to steal some flowers and balloons with 'it's a boy!' on them for Ballister. But anyways, I'll write that bit too.

-Also this is Goldenheart with their baby, and I drew it a while back but realized that I don't like it anymore, so I'll do a redrawing someday sdjksd

>Imagine that Ambrosius was in the hospital bed with Baby while Ballister was getting ready so they could leave to their home, and Nimona said pictures timeee and then took that pic, with Ballister pointing at Baby and being all :D Also, Ambrosius looked pretty good and all, and Ballister was all unshaven face, kinda messy hair, the hospital band with his name still wrapped on his wrist as he pointed at Baby, and yet there were some people online that were like ??! Ambrosius Goldenloin Goldenheart was pregnant??

>And the people that knew even if a little bit about the Goldenheart's life, and also because they still went out and whatever, were like ? no? didn't you see Ballister like, a week ago? (Where he was very obviously pregnant and Ambrosius clearly wasn't sdjkdj)

>Every once in a while, Nimona would remember about this and repost it again, even after Baby is much older.

And that's it! If you read till here, bless you ajsdkadj

I've got more stuff about mpreg, both written and drawn, so I hope to make another post like this sometime, they're very fun to make :D

#nimona #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #goldenheart #my art #mpreg #i love them so much #giving Ballister the biggest honor I can as an artist -> making him pregnant #that's what he gets for being my favorite #se pone bien papi chulo #I reached the image limit again pipipi #they should let me put 238493 images not just 30 #also notice that bathroom I drew that barely looks like a bathroom jsdsd #apologies I was too lazy to look for references pipipi

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medicinemane · 2 years ago

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On the other hand there's one song where I can say exactly what they did wrong and what I'd have them do differently

It's very simply doing the metal growl when it's like... no no no, this is an epic ballad you have here, and your voice is perfect for it. No metal growl in this song and skip the uh... bridge or whatever it's called where you kind of do a guitar solo

You did that and the song is perfect. I respect you doing it the way you wanted, and you made a fantastic song, but... the metal growling voice just doesn't fit the texture of this song

#if I'm blunt while the metal growl is very impressive to be able to pull off #I actually think it's never the right call and almost always wish they'd just sing that line because their voice pulls it off better #there's more than one metal band where I'm like I like this album except the ones you metal growled which don't work for me #like it's a choice and I respect it and I respect being able to do it at all... but to me it's almost always the wrong call #but often it'll kind of be for a whole song #where as this one it's mostly this very melodic thing that... ah... if I could just get them to record a slightly different version #that would be just.. perfection; they'd have done the song exactly right #I mean look at their Rasputin cover; zero growling and it comes out perfect #it's probably more a matter of taste; but that's my stance on it; though I won't say the people who like it are less correct than I am

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lovers-rck · 10 months ago

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modern au where you accidentally send ellie, your bestfriend, a nude PT3

pt1 here , pt2 here pt4 here

n/a finally.

☆

ellie was lying on her bed. her eyes were closed, her mouth was mumbling the words of the song softly, not wanting to take the spotlight away from the voice that sounded through the record player.

outside, the sun was shining at its brightest, burning the people who dared to walk under its reign.

"uhg i love that song" ellie murmurs as the song ends.

"it's good" you agree. a bead of perspiration ran down the valley of your breasts "it's too hot in here. can you open the window?"

ellie nods and once it's done she throws herself back on the bed hard, bouncing you up and down. she giggles dumbly.

"you can put on your bikini if you want, you left it here the last time we went swimming"

"so that's why i couldn't find it" you can see how ellie smiles slightly "where is it?"

"second drawer on the right"

"got it."

you find your bikini folded neatly in the drawer next to her t-shirts. the bathroom feels a thousand times hotter than the whole house, so you hurry to put on your bikini top and go back out to ellie's room. she's still in the same position, singing songs from an album you don't know.

"we should go swimming again" you say as you walk in, your bare feet against the floor "it was fun"

ellie partially stands up with the help of her arms and watches you, walking around her room in your bikini top and shorts. the photo incident had already been forgotten in your mind, but ellie was still thinking about that moment.

even though she assured you that she had deleted the photo, the truth was that she still had it in her gallery, feeling guilty every time she looked at it.

"sure" ellie said, abandoning her gaze on your body "if you want to drown yourself again"

"i didn't drown" you protested "that wave came in unexpectedly"

you lie down next to her, staring at the ceiling just as she does, separated by inches. ellie's almost-kiss comes to mind, but you dismiss that memory as quickly as you can, trying not to fantasize about something that isn't going to happen.

she's your best friend. just that.

it isn't long before the album comes to an end, burying the room in a deep silence. The air is uncomfortable for ellie, who feels the need to speak up and confess her sin.

"i didn't delete the picture" she says after a few minutes.

you furrow your eyebrows and look at her "what? which picture?"

ellie abandons her gaze to the ceiling and looks at your breasts, and then at you "you know..."

the answer hits you "oh"

"i'm sorry" ellie says "i had to tell you, it doesn't feel right"

you look up at the ceiling again "why didn't you delete it?"

you hear ellie laugh lightly "isn't it obvious?"

you feel your heart in your throat, ready to come out the moment you utter a word.

"it's not obvious to me"

an immense heat takes hold of ellie's body, a heat that is not due to the temperature outside. she feels her cheeks redden and her lips feel extremely dry and suddenly the ceiling looks so interesting that she want to watch it forever.

"well..." in your eyes, ellie doesn't look as confident as usual, more vulnerable "i think i like you."

"you think?"

"okay, okay" ellie snorts "i like you"

"it's just weird" she continues "i mean, it feels weird that you like your best friend, you know? i don't know, i haven't stopped thinking about it since you sent me that picture"

you don't say anything, and ellie takes that as a bad sign.

"i'm sorry" she mumbles, looking at the ceiling and wanting to hit her head "i shouldn't have said that. i would leave if i could but it's my home so...."

"can you kiss me?" you speak and ellie looks at you

"what?"

ellie analyzes your gestures, looking for some indication that what you are telling her is a vile joke that you can both laugh at later, or pretend to laugh at.

"a real kiss this time" you say and ellie smile embarrassed as she remembers "kisses on the corner don't count"

"shut up. I didn't know how you were going to react."

"you didn't even see my reaction! you ran into the living room!"

they both laugh uproariously, although ellie laughs mostly out of embarrassment.

a few seconds pass. fifteen seconds if you ask ellie.

"well, are you going to do it?" you mutter.

ellie stands up and moves closer to you, leaning on one arm to support her weight so she doesn't fall on you. you can feel her confidence return as she provokes your lips by gently brushing hers across them but not making full contact.

"ellie" your voice comes out as a strangled moan.

and she finally kisses you.

the warmth of her lips impacting against yours and sending you into a dreamy spiral. her hands hold you as if you are going to disappear, encircling and touching your skin.

everything about her touch counterbalances her personality. her touch is kind, gentle, soft, and it's ellie's

#ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #tlou

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trashland-llamas · 3 months ago

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Ginger!?

[a/n; I wrote this sleep deprived, on the way to Ny (passenger prince, not the driver). Idk what ‘plum as peach’ means either]

[x gn reader]

‘When the fuck were you gonna tell me you used to be a ginger!?’ Reader slammed open the front door as they accuse the vigilante.

Looking up from his romance novel, Jason owlishly blinks at them, ‘Why hello to you too, sweet cheeks.’ Waiting for them to explain what the ruckus was about.

Having just arrived home from the Wayne manor for their weekly spot of tea with Alfred. ‘Guess what Alfred asked me today?’ Reader starts, shucking off their shoes with their bag dropped onto the floor.

They don’t give Jason any time to respond. They never do. The vigilante would just give some half assed bullshit, thinking he was some comedian.

’He asked me if I had ever seen the family photo albums and I told him no, Alfred, I haven’t.’ Digging a finger into their own chest at the word ‘me.’

‘Looked as plum as a peach, he did. So he brings out the photo albums and in it was little Jason. But not brunette.’ The finger now pointing accusatory at him. ‘No, but ginger!’

Jason’s looking at them with hearts in his eyes. If it weren’t for the leftover shock still in their system, they would’ve found it endearing. But alas, for right now, it added fuel to the fire. ‘Don’t look at me like that.’

‘Like what? Like I’m not in love with you? Can’t help it, babe.’ Jason holds up his hands. Almost as if praying for their forgiveness. Atoning for the personal slight he had committed.

‘Dyed it when I young. Then after the pit, it was permanent. Haven’t had to dye it since. It’s why you’ve never seen my roots growing out.’ Reader gave him the evil eye for a second, sussing out whether he was being truthful.

‘You vigilantes, I swear.’ They swore to themselves, going into the kitchen to make two cups of tea. Correctly assuming Jason once again forgot about taking care of his needs with how engrossed he was in his reading.

‘Still love you though, white hair and all,’ Reader whispers before placing a kiss on his temple. Handing him his cup of tea. Jason chuckles, noting that they had finally calmed down.

‘You done being feisty?’

#batman series #dcu #dc universe #jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #fluff

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bandgie · 29 days ago

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Cats Galore | Ep. 3

MASTERLIST | Kink: Anal

🗝 The Other Neighbors downstairs hardly raise concern other than their weird fascinations with cats. You don't mind them playing with yours, but you're learning that things aren't as they seem.

4.6k words

warnings: MDNI18+, fem!reader, f!masturbation (brief), pussy play, fingering, 3some, anal, butt-play, PIV, no protection, cumming inside, creampie, finger sucking (m!), reader called kitty/slut, reader wears cat ears, minho is a bit of a mean dom, reader says she's gonna pee (doesn't), squirting, edging (brief), double penetration, boob sucking

notes: fuck, that's a lot of warnings, sorry. I was supposed to post this days ago but I was partying :( sorry, forgive me. hopefully the length makes up for it

“I almost fell down a well earlier, guys.”

The consistent clicking of their keyboard tells you they’re not listening. You’re staring out the kitchen window, watching the rain pour and the droplets race.

“Uh-huh.”

“I would have died.” Maybe that will catch their attention. Chan and Changbin have been nothing but busy-busy the moment they came home. Late. You had to mop the floors when their muddied shoes walked through the front.

“That’s nice.”

You wrinkle your nose, unsure if you should act upset or cordial. They’ve been home for hours, sitting at the tiny table typing away.

Editing to be exact.

“So, how far are you in the album?”

“Very.” Chan takes off one side of his headphones. “I think we should be able to make the deadline if we stay up.”

You try not to groan. Music is their everything. You get that. You’ve known that, but there are so many times you feel like you don’t even come second. If you bat your eyes prettily enough and cutely pout, they’d put it on hold.

But then they wouldn’t get their work done. The stress they feel now would be nothing compared to scrambling last minute to put something together.

And it would all be your fault because you don’t know how to stop being so clingy.

“That’s good.” You turn from the window and walk over to them, standing behind Changbin and looking at the DAW. You pretend you know what the different colors and lines mean, nodding and pecking his cheek encouragingly. “Looks good too.”

Changin’s already turning his head, pursing his lips so you could plant a kiss there instead, but Chan reaches over and flicks his forehead. “No. Babe, listen, we love you, but you’re distracting.”

“Distracting?”

“I mean, we won’t be able to do our work.” Chan is careful with his words. “Like, I bet Bin has a fucking boner from just you standing next to him.”

Changbin’s lips turn into an upside-down, sheepish smile, “Shut up.”

“Exactly. I promise you, at the end of the week, we’re all yours.” Chan smiles suddenly. His teeth look wolfish in the cutest way possible. “Was the first night not enough lovin’ for you?”

It was more than enough. You can feel Changbin buzzing with arousal just from the memory. It’s not often that your boys like to play rough, but when they do, they make sure to make it unforgettable.

Your dreamy button-boy helped significantly to make sure your lovin’ was sublime.

“For now.” You shrug, but you grin knowingly. “I’ll leave you two alone then. Don’t stay up too late, okay?”

Changbin purses his lips again when you lean down. This time, Chan doesn’t stop you two from kissing. It’s brief, but Changbin still hums with content in your mouth. Your lips disconnect with a gentle smack and you walk to the other side, doing the same to Chan.

“I’m serious. Go to bed at a reasonable time.” You narrow your eyes. “I don’t wanna deal with a grumpy Bin telling me Chan made him stay up all night.”

Chan presses another chaste kiss. “No promises.”

It’s when you want to sleep that it seems impossible. You want to get enough rest. The garden needs to be at least cleaned if you want it to blossom. But the only thing you can do in bed is toss and turn, replaying the events of the day until your mind wanders to Hyunjin.

There’s a small part of you that wants to dream about him again. Even if you have to see his buttons, it would be nothing compared to his cock dragging in your walls.

He’s big. He has to be. You can remember how it felt against your cunt. The mere warmth from him had your clit throbbing, aching to feel his tip slide against you even if you had just finished in his mouth.

And the kisses, his kisses. They felt so tender. So warm. You don’t think you’ll be able to recreate the sensation with your fingers, but you slide your hand down your panties anyway. But just when you make it past the dip, finger threading through your coarse hair, you hear the familiar sound.

Squeak! Squeak!

Are you asleep already? Did so much time pass pretending that you actually did? You don’t know, and you don’t care to find out. The little mouse, just peeking through the crack of your door, is your only worry.

Seems like Hyunjin isn’t the one that didn’t get enough lovin’.

You fling the covers off and rush to the door. The mouse squeaks in panic, scurrying out and down the hallway to the stairs. You know it’s aiming for the little door. You don’t have to question the fact when it leaps over the steps and into the living room.

Unlike the quiet mouse, your steps are loud, thudding down the stairs and tripping over the carpet. You regain your balance quickly, bumping into a wall and pushing off it for an extra boost into the dimly lit living room.

You don’t even see the mouse anymore, too consumed with prying your fingers through the crevasse and throwing it open.

Like an old friend, the tunnel beams. It pulsates with life, with happiness, you think. The changing colors are like a beckoning finger that you listen to obediently. The passage feels exactly like it did the other night. Fuzzy, soft, warm, and everything right.

The lights in the Other living room are just slightly different than last time. A little yellow, a little too pale. It hides the shadow of the couches that seem to glow with life, but you don’t dig too much into the aesthetic. You know there’s a note in the kitchen waiting for you.

This time, it’s not just a note on the table when you walk in, but a kitten headband next to it.

We’re downstairs.

We? You narrow your eyes and cock your head to the side. Who’s we? This isn’t Hyunjin’s handwriting.

Another line of scribbles reads in a cuter, playful tone.

can’t wait to meet you! pleeasseee wear the kitty ears!!!!! (ㅅ •᷄ ₃•᷅ )

You’d laugh at the drawn emoticon if you weren’t confused. With one hand holding the letter and the other holding the headband, you think.

Why are you dreaming of this? Who’s waiting for you? Why do they want you to wear a costume?

It doesn’t matter how many times you ask yourself, those questions will never be answered. Not on this floor at least.

As beautiful as it is outside, you walk down the porch and turn right. There’s an opening with a small staircase leading down, the doorframe lit with pretty lights.

They flash inducingly; on and off in a way that makes it seem like the light is moving.

They help with your jitters. You know that it won't be Hyunjin behind the door and sure as hell won’t be your boys. Still, you feel some exhilaration when you stop just a foot shy of the door.

It opens before you can knock a third time, revealing two men standing side-by-side. One has brown buttons for eyes, a beautiful complement to his freckled face and blonde hair. He smiles like it’s the easiest thing to do now that you’re here. His lips curve perfectly against his teeth, white and smooth.

The other’s buttons are a deep burgundy, almost matching his chestnut hair. Only one side of his mouth quirks into a smile that’s closer to a grin.

The blonde one shrieks with excitement. “Ah! You’re here! Minho, she’s here! Like, here here.”

You laugh, “Yeah. Here here. In the flesh.”

He lights up even more. The flashing bulbs on the doorframe dance on his face. “Yes! Come in. Hyunjin raved about you all day yesterday.” The blonde man opens the door wide enough for you to see the living room blocked by a curtain that he pushes back. It’s massive, adorned with cat sculptures and paintings. Even the couch has a fuzz that seems to resemble fur.

Minho chuckles. “Gosh. He wouldn’t shut up. He falls in love way too easily.”

Their conversation doesn’t click until you’re inside the apartment. You’re too busy deciding to be weirded out or impressed by the amount of cats perched on the wall.

Wait. Did Hyunjin tell them…

“What did he say about me?” You try to sound nonchalant, fingers grazing the soft sofa.

Minho flops on the other side of the couch. “Oh, nothing. Just that he wants to ask for your hand in marriage.” He snickers at his own joke, ignoring the disapproving shake of his friend’s head.

“All good things, I promise.” The blonde man sits on the opposite side, patting the empty slot between them.

You sit gingerly, far enough that your thighs aren’t touching, but you can feel their bodies radiating warmth. You swear Minho eyes the way your thighs expand when you sit, tearing his buttons away to look at the kitten ears on your head.

“Very good things. He showed us some paintings he finished too, but he said it wasn’t enough to capture your beauty.” Minho smiles at your blush. “I should tell him to paint this too. The cat ears are a good touch.”

“Minho!”

“Felix!” Minho mimics his roommate's tone. “Am I doing something bad?” He looks at you, buttons gleaming with playfulness. “Am I?”

You shake your head. “N-no.”

The way his teeth are revealed is almost predatory. Almost as though he likes the hint of fear in your eyes. “Good. See? Hyunjin said you were a good girl too.” His hands reach behind your head, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The tips of his fingers barely graze you, but your skin feels on fire.

You know why you’re dreaming of them. Why you keep going through the tunnel. They must know too, but Minho plays with the ears on your head fondly.

“I can tell you are. Wearing exactly what we asked you to.” He tilts his head. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but Felix and I have quite the…liking towards cats.”

You turn to the side, facing the differently posed statutes along the wall. “You don’t say.”

Minho giggles. “With you wearing the ears, well, let’s just say we’re seeing if you’d be a good addition to our collection.”

Felix chuckles beside you, scooting just enough so his leg rubs against yours.

There’s so much you should be worried about. It’s all too familiar with how interesting Hyunjin was. To the underlying tones, the secretive glances they give each other, to the fact that they have you trapped between them.

But when one of Felix’s hands goes to your inner thigh and Minho’s goes to your other, your heart drums for a different reason.

“I think we should look at your kitty down here to make sure you’ll fit in perfectly.” Felix’s voice is unbelievably smooth in your ear. His tone sends shivers down your spine and you visibly shake.

He grins like he knows. “Would that be okay?”

You nod, but your ‘yes’ sounds more like a whimper than an actual voice. It’s easy for them to spread your legs, panties on display being that you don’t sleep with anything more than a shirt and underwear. They knead the softness of your inner thighs, cooing and laughing like they’ve got you right where they want you.

“This kitty listens so well.” Minho’s lips brush against your ear. He’s the first one to move towards your cunt, fingers sliding underneath your panties to pull it to the side.

“Ooo,” his breath gives you goosebumps. “And it’s a pretty one too.”

Your pussy feels cold now that it’s exposed. Felix pulls on your thigh so your pussy spread just slightly. He groans, deep and low. He’s quick to spread his fingers into a ‘v’ shape around your lips.

Minho’s thumb grazes your flesh. It’s such a light touch, barely there if you hadn’t been paying close attention. The sensation makes you jolt off the couch just slightly, choking on a gasp.

“Sensitive little thing, huh?” Miho smiles against your ear. “Barely even touching you.” His index finger trails along your slit, soon finding your clit.

“Bet if I touch you here, you’ll get wet real fast.”

Felix does well in keeping your cunt spread while Minho flicks the pad of his finger against you. It takes everything in you not to buck off the couch again. To stop your pussy from clenching every time Minho presses down on your nub.

But just like he said, you can feel your slick sliding down your ass. The wetness must soil the plush couch underneath, but the men don’t seem to mind in the slightest. Instead, you feel Felix’s fingers mingle in the mix.

His digits are so much different from Minho’s. They’re small and much rougher, but the different textures make you find purchase on their thighs and squeeze.

Felix giggles. “You were right, hyung. She did get wet.”

Even if it weren’t for the obvious sounds resonating in the room, it would be your moans and whines that gave away your arousal.

“Of course I was right. Hyunjin told me all about you.” The way he says it, like a threat, it should scare you. But his ominous tone makes your eyes roll and toes curl instead.

“Told me you tasted good. He almost came his pants when his tongue was on you.”

Minho stops flicking your clit to maneuver lower. His soft fingers slide until they catch your entrance, prodding and rubbing before dipping in.

You gasp when he enters you. You didn’t realize how desperate your cunt was to clench on something until it was pulsing around his digit. Your hips begin to rock immediately, trying to find a rhythm with his little finger wiggling inside you.

“F-fuck.” You lean on Felix’s shoulder. “Please.”

Even with your squelching and pleading, Minho slides out. His sadistic smile stays on his lips when you whine, tears in your eyes from an orgasm being pulled away.

He raises his hand high enough for you three to see it glisten in the light.

The slick is almost mesmerizing, their buttons locked on the sight. Minho brings the hand closer and you open with your mouth without being told to.

“I wanna know if he was telling the truth about this too.” But instead of putting his finger on your tongue, he reaches over to Felix.

His pink tongue is already waiting, a subtle blush on his face that makes his freckles stick out. You watch as Minho’s finger plays with his tongue, running over the smoothness of his teeth and the plushness of his lips.

Felix moans at your taste, hollowing his cheeks to suck diligently. His fingers on your cunt slow in concentration, but you’re too aroused to notice.

A string of spit and slick connects from Felix’s tongue to Minho’s finger when he pulls away. It stretches and breaks easily, causing Felix to lick his chin where it landed.

His buttons are full of hunger. “Yeah, Min. He was telling the truth.”

Minho laughs with delight. His wet finger goes back to your cunt, rubbing harshly and quickly.

The instant pleasure makes you mewl, drooly lips finding Felix’s is a spit-covered kiss. You can taste yourself on him. His soft mouth makes the tangy, metallic taste sweet, tongues diving into each other’s throats.

Felix pulls away enough to speak, but your kisses attack the corners of his lips and throat as he says, “Do you wanna taste, hyung?”

Minho hums in thought, the pads of his fingers swirling over your clit torturously. Your kisses on Felix’s skin slow. You can still taste your arousal on your tongue, Minho won’t have any problem getting a taste if he kisses you now. But when his fingers dip past your hole to your rim, you know what he wants instead.

“I think I wanna play with something else.” Minho uses his free hand to pull you by your hair gently, making you face him. “How many fingers can you fit in here, kitty?”

He presses, harder and harder until the tip of his finger makes its way inside your ass. Your mouth drops at the feeling, unsure if it feels good because it’s vulnerable or because he’s touching something you know is only used for special occasions.

Minho forces them deeper, making you squeal. “How many?”

“I-I don’t know! Three? F-four?” Changbin’s cock is roughly that wide. You recall having him and Chan trying to fit both their cock in the same hole, but there wasn’t enough lube to accommodate their size.

He moans, soft and pretty. His finger turns into two, and rather than just the tip, you feel him sink to the knuckle. All the while Felix makes sure to play with your pussy to keep your juices flowing to your ass.

“You dirty slut. You’re perfect.” Minho doesn’t hesitate in fucking his fingers into you. They curl and rub as if it was your pussy, but with how full you are, it feels like it is.

“Shit. Good fucking ass. You’ve taken a cock in there, haven't you?”

You nod, unable to speak. Your throat can’t do anything but moan. The sounds get even louder when Minho’s fingers slip out, opting to stand and untie his sweats. You only get a second to see his bulge before it springs out, flushed and leaking. He takes his place in front of you, holding you by the knees.

Minho has a full view of your gaping ass, of Felix’s relentless fingers playing with your clit. You’d be shy in any other scenario, but with the taste of you still lingering on your tongue and the need in your stomach, it’s nonexistent.

You drool when you see him stroke himself, the throbbing of his cock intensifying. You spread your legs more and let him guide his tip to your ass, holding your breath for the breach.

“You’ve never taken a dick like mine, baby. I’ll make you cum in seconds.”

Felix snorts beside you, but it sounds muffled with the blood rushing to your ears. His cock is warm entering you. Everything feels so much intensified when your ass is used. You can feel every curve and every vein inside.

His rounded head slips in with ease, especially when Felix smears your dripping arousal down to Minho’s remaining shaft and your rim.

You choke on a sob when his pelvis is flush against you.

“Fuck yes.” Minho bares throat. His head falls back, red neck on display. “Knew you’d take it all.” Even with no eyes, his buttons seem crazed. That burgundy color turning redder by the second.

His pace is slow, still adjusting to how your walls squeeze unbelievably tight and warm. It’s easy to confuse the slick from your pussy coming from your ass instead, but it's hard not to ooze arousal with Felix rubbing you.

Your clit feels on fire. Even with nothing in your cunt, it feels like you’re stuffed beyond full. It’s puffy, swollen, and wet. Felix doesn’t stop rubbing for a second even when you let out a pleasurable scream when Minho picks up his pace.

“Oh my god.” You’re staring at the mess between your legs. “Ohmygod, ohmygod. Fuck! I’m gonna pee. Waitwaitwait.”

You know it’s not piss, but it’s been so long since you squirted that you nearly forgot you could. The warmth in your stomach builds too fast, too overwhelming. Tipping over the edge never felt so close, yet so far. There’s nothing for your pussy to clench on. Felix’s fingers are moving too fast for your clit to throb and Minho’s cock is bruising into you at a pace that isn’t slow or quick enough.

You forgot how dreadfully good it feels to never come down from your high. To be stuck at the peak because they simply don’t care.

Chan and Changbin always made sure to have you cum over and over, but having your body spam from the lack thereof is a feeling you never want to forget again.

“Yeah?” Minho laughs. “Looks like kitty needs a little more training, huh, Felix?”

Felix yanks your shirt up, exposing your tits and making you bite the material. Saliva immediately begins to pool in the cotton, but then men are too distracted by your tits to care.

Felix leans into your chest. “Try holding it in, yeah? Minho can be stern when he wants to be.”

You feel his teeth clamp down on your nipple. How they think you can stop yourself from soiling the couch is laughable. Felix tugs on the peak of your breast and rubs your clit all while Minho pistons his cock in and out of your ass.

You squirt within seconds.

Since nothing is blocking your cunt, your arousal flows out freely. Felix’s digits only make your juices fly farther, splattering on Minho’s chest and your thighs.

There’s a moment where you’re gasping so hard your head spins. All you can hear are the moans tumbling from your stuffed mouth and Minho’s psychotic laughter. Felix tries to help the fountain between your legs by slowing down, but his hyung doesn’t slow his thrusts at all.

“Bad fucking kitty! Now I have to cum in your ass.” His buttons lock on Felix’s. “Did I tell you to stop?”

The tiny fingers resume their harsh pace, but Felix pouts. “You’re gonna tire her out. My cock hurts too, ya know?”

Sanity glints in Minho’s buttons. It’s as if your ass was too good, making him completely forget about his roommates' needs.

He pulls out without hesitation. You groan when it slips from you, feeling like you can finally breathe.

“Lixie. I’m such a bad hyung.” It’s the first time his voice is soft. Caring. “You want her ass?”

Felix’s fingers go to your hole, your cunt. You let out a drawled moan when his fingers wiggle their way inside. It feels so good to have your pussy filled right after squirting.

“I just want her pussy. You can still have her ass. I know that’s your favorite.”

The roommates share a laugh, talking about you like you’re nothing but a toy. All you can do is groan when they change your position. Your back aches from your legs being in the air for so long, but the pain subsides when they plant you on all fours on the couch, hovering over Felix with Minho behind you.

Felix’s cock is a little thing, so similar to Changbin’s. They don’t share the same thickness in the slightest, but you’re thankful for Felix’s size when they enter you at the same time.

Had he been any bigger, you don’t doubt that you would’ve split. The stretch is porno worthy. Your walls open easily for both of them, their cocks molding their shape inside you. Their pace is so different. Felix is getting used to the feel of your cunt for the first time whereas Minho is chasing his high.

The thrusts from behind make you bounce on Felix’s dick. Your breasts jiggle in his face so tempting that it doesn’t take long for him to pop a nipple in his mouth.

Like before, his bites and licks encourage you to rock between them.

Minho has a firm grip on your ass, spreading your cheeks to see his cock bury itself between them. “Your ass is so wet. Feels just like a pussy.” He stills, hips flush against you. He groans when you whimper. “Squeezes just like one too.”

This time, you know you’ll be able to cum properly. The orgasm builds in your stomach until it coils, clenching on the two cocks in warning.

“Sh-shit.” Felix curses with your breast in his mouth. “I’mma cum already.”

“Mhm.” He grunts, fucking you earnestly. “Good set of holes.”

You choose to take that as a compliment. Your walls are gripping them so tight that it feels as though they’re fucking you in the same place. But when your chest burns and the warmth in your belly finally uncoils, you know it’s Felix’s cock you cum on.

Even though your body freezes to ooze with cream, Minho doesn’t stop. Not even as Felix howls with pleasure or you plead with overstimulation, his cock bullies into your ass until you flood with their seed.

You can’t tell whose cum is filling from where. It feels everywhere, outside and inside. You collapse on Felix’s chest, panting with exhaustion. Minho thrusts a few more times for good measure before pulling out, moaning in the process.

Felix follows soon after, his softening cock between your and his pelvis’. The warm strings of cum pour from your holes and you feel Minho play with it. Whether or not he shoves it back into your gaping ass or cunt, you can’t tell.

It all feels the same.

Ding. Ding.

You three jump at the sound of the doorbell. Felix and Minho share a confused look, the older grabbing his sweats and putting his legs through the pant holes. It seems that their visitor requires both of them, being that Felix slips from under you and pecks your forehead.

You suppose this is your cue to wake up.

But as they tuck their cocks away and close the curtains to the living room, you don’t wake.

Weird.

You’re about to begin counting sheep when something black moves in the corner of your eye. It takes a few seconds for your hazy vision to focus on a cat, the only one moving sly and quickly.

Unlike the other sculpted cats with buttons for eyes on the walls, this one has blue, normal eyes. Just like the one from the woods.

“Hmm,” your voice is groggy. “Hannie’s got a cat like you back at home. You must be the Other cat.”

That cat narrows its eyes at you, nose up turning into a sneer. “No. I’m not the other anything. I’m me.”

You blink. Once. Twice. Your eyelids flutter in shock, but your mind is so fuzzy that you can’t be too surprised.

You’re still sleeping after all.

“I see you don’t have buttons for eyes, but if you’re the real cat, how can you speak?”

“Too many questions and not enough time,” his whiskers twitch. “They won’t be distracted for long. They don’t like me very much.”

You snort, “I find that hard to believe. They said they like cats.”

“They like things that listen. They want a pet. And I’m hardly one to behave.”

Talking takes a lot of effort. You can feel your eyelids drooping and your limbs relaxing on the couch, but you manage to peek at the kitty. “I don’t think I’d mind being their little pet every now and then.”

The cat does not laugh with you. Instead, he leaps from the shelves on the wall and quietly lands on the couch, mere inches from your tired face.

“You probably think this world is a dream come true. But you’re wrong. If you come back here again, we won’t let you leave.”

We. A spark of anxiety lights in your chest. His piercing eyes, the only ones here besides yours, are full of truth. Something about his gaze and mannerisms screams human. “Are you really a cat?”

“I am as much as a cat as this is a dream.” His tail tickles your nose just enough to keep you awake for a few seconds. “Listen to me and do not go through the door again. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave the Pink Palace and not look back.”

Like any normal cat, he glares at you one last time. “Or don’t. Afterall, I’m just a stupid cat. Aren’t I?”

#smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz #minho smut #Felix smut #minho skz smut #feliz skz smut #horror october!#lee know smut #lee know skz smut

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harryslittlefreakk · 7 months ago

Text

arrogant s.o.b

summary: based on this request - grumpy/mean Harry and readers first fight and he says something really harsh/yells and makes her cry? And then feels really bad after like grumpyxsunshine vibes?

warnings: angst

wordcount: 1.6k

a/n: thank you to the anon who sent in this request!! 🥰💖 sorry it took me a while to get around to it. please let me know if this isn’t quite what you wanted, i don’t know if I’m 100% happy with it so im more than willing to tweak and rewrite!!!

my masterlist!! please feel free to send me more requests 💓 happy reading

“I miss you, Harry.”

You knew you were pushing it, he was already working himself to breaking point. But you couldn’t help it, you missed your boyfriend. His break was meant to be about finding time for himself again, spending time with his loved ones. And you thought that meant being with you, not spending every day confined to the four walls of a recording studio.

“I can’t delay my entire album because you miss me.”

“I’m not asking you to delay the entire album. Just take a day off, just once.”

“Why?! For what?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Now you were both pissed off. You didn’t understand why Harry couldn’t just slow down. You’d only been able to see him in Italy for a few days, your work schedule unexpectedly busy. Part of you thought he was ‘punishing’ you for that, the sane part of you knew that his summer in Italy was his rest, and now he was back in London he needed to work. Harry’s work ethic was one of the things you admired most about him, and now you were arguing with him over it.

“Clearly it does matter.” He was stood by the door, keys in his hand, a dark scowl printed on his face.

“It’s fine, just go. Have a good day.” The hurt was evident in your voice, but you didn’t even want Harry to stay now with the atmosphere you’d created.

He hesitated for a moment, torn between wanting to stay and needing to leave. Finally, he sighed and turned to walk out the door without another word. The sound of the door swinging shut behind him echoed through the silent room, leaving you alone in your thoughts.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you sank into the sofa. You’d pushed him away when all you wanted was for him to stay. You knew you’d always come second to his career, he prioritised you over almost everything in his life but his music was so important to him. But once he finished recording, there would be interviews and appearances, then a tour, and then you’d be back here again. It was constant, unrelenting, and if he couldn’t even sacrifice one day for you, how could you expect him to slow down?

—

Harry stood frozen on the other side of the door, still stuck between needing to come back in and wanting to go. It never usually got to this point, one of you would back down before someone got hurt. It wasn’t exactly healthy, but it worked for you. He hated fighting, hated seeing you upset. But he was only now realising that it was usually you that compromised. He knew you well, and for you to actually speak up and ask him to stay despite knowing how important his work is to him? He’d fucked up.

He leaned against the door, his hand gripping the handle tightly as he closed his eyes, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him. Guilt washed over him as he replayed the conversation in his mind. He knew he needed to find a balance between his work and his relationship, but it was easier said than done.

His hand fell from the door handle as he turned on his heel, dragging his feet away from the house. If he was going to make it right, he needed to be armed with all of your favourite things.

—

Harry replayed the morning in his head the entire time he was out. You’d woken up to his alarm as always, rolling over in his arms to wake him up with soft kisses. “Why do you set alarms if you know you can’t wake up for them?” you laughed, tapping at his nose as his eyes fluttered open. “Because you wake up and I get morning kisses,” he smiled, pulling you tighter to his chest.

He remembered how the morning light hit you at just the right angle, illuminating your puffy eyes and blushed cheeks. He’d caught himself wishing he could have five more minutes in bed with you, time to savour waking up next to his love. But he’d rolled out of bed in the same way as always, slipping out from under you just as you tried to curl your body around his.

You’d followed him to the bathroom silently, lingering in the doorway as you rubbed your tired eyes. “Wish I got to see you more,” you’d mumbled, eyes following his through the mirror. “You see me every day, kitten,” he’d replied, poking his tongue out when he saw you watching. He’d noticed your face fall slightly, a misty kind of sadness replace the natural glint in your eye. He cringed as he thought back, but he’d purposely ignored it to save himself the trouble.

“I see you when I wake up and just before bed,” you’d pouted, eyes glued to your suddenly fidgety hands. “I cant help that right now, pet. You know I can’t,” he’d tried to reason with you, and looking back, Harry thought maybe he was trying to convince himself. “Just a morning or an afternoon at home would be nice. Not even a full day,” you’d told him, voice cracking as you looked back up at him.

“I can’t have this conversation right now,” he’d muttered, kicking at the door until it swung closed in front of you.

And there he was now, heart struck with guilt at the thought of how badly he had neglected you.

—

As he heard your keys jingle outside the door, Harry finished rearranging his purchases across the bed. He gave one final look to the flowers on your windowsill, the beautiful blush pink roses he knew you loved. It was perfect, he just hoped it would be enough.

“Hi darling,” he smiled sheepishly as he walked down the stairs.

“Hi, H,” you replied, brows knitted as you stared at him. “What are you doing?”

“Come,” Harry murmured, reaching out a hand for you to take. You dropped your bag by door and took it, fingers tangling with his as he lead you back to the bedroom.

He stopped outside the bedroom door, pulling you into his arms. “M’sorry,” he whispered into your hair. “Didn’t think about what it’s like for you. I need time with you just as much as you need it w’me.”

“No, I’m sorry,” you told him, cuddling into his chest. “Nothing to be sorry for, pet.”

“Shouldn’t have pushed you like that,” you murmured, eyes closed as you breathed in his musky aftershave.

“Gave me the push I needed. M’not good at taking time off.”

“Don’t have to tell me that,” you laughed, stepping away from him as he turned to open the bedroom door.

“Got you your perfect day,” he smiled, stepping out of the way so you could see his creation.

All your favourite snacks were laid out on the bed, your matching pyjamas folded on the corner. The most beautiful flowers you’d ever seen in your favourite vase on the windowsill, candles lit on your nightstand and a cheesy rom com loaded on the tv.

“You did all of this?” you cooed, a grin spreading across your face as your gaze turned to Harry. He nodded, pulling his t-shirt off.

“Nuh uh,” you swatted his hand away as he reached to pick up the pyjama top. “Only my perfect day if you’re topless,” you smirked, quickly peeling your clothes off to throw the pyjamas on.

You climbed into bed next to Harry, pulling the duvet up to your chin before wrapping your body around his, your head at home on his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, arms wrapped right around you.

“Made a few calls. Gonna start only doing three days at a time in the studio, then three days off,” he whispered, grinning when you immediately whipped round to look at him. “Don’t have to do that for me baby,” you gasped, brows furrowed.

“It’s the right call. Just gonna be longer days but worth it all if it means more time with you,” Harry winked, his hand caressing the curve of your waist.

You shifted upwards, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Thank you,” you smiled. “And congratulations.”

Harry returned your kiss, his lips lingering just a second longer than yours had. His touch and his kisses felt like home to you, his smile your lifeblood. “To me? For what?”

“To us. For our first fight,” you giggled, holding out a hand to high-five Harry. He grabbed a hold of your hand, using it to pull you even closer to him, until your faces were only centimetres apart.

“Here’s to our first and last fight,” he whispered, eyes locked on yours. His teeth latched onto your bottom lip as he went in for another kiss, the rocky waves in your stomach turning to butterflies as his tongue moved around yours.

You pulled away after a minute, settling back into his arms with a smile so bright it could have lit up the room.

“Can’t believe we started the day with you thinking your album is more important than me,” you mumbled, a mischievous sparkle in your eye as you tangled your fingers between Harry’s.

“Millions of adoring fans who’d do anything for me versus one woman? I know who I’m picking,” he teased, laughing as you smacked his thigh with your free hand.

“Maybe they were right,” you whispered, peering up at him.

“Hm?”

“About you being an arrogant son of a bitch.”

taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @vonnexann @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @harryshotpocket @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7 @harrystylesluverrrr @cohnfusedarling @ell0ra-br3kk3r @stylesfever

#harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry edward styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles masterlist #Harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harryslittlefreakk

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lovecla · 9 days ago

Text

TAKE IT EASY (OTHERWISE I’M LEAVING) | connor bedard.

ᡣ𐭩 — pair: connor bedard x fmc (olivia)

ᡣ𐭩 — synopsis: in which connor bedard’s girlfiend, olivia, is tired of seeing her boyfriend destroy himself every single day.

ᡣ𐭩 — word count: 3.1k

ᡣ𐭩 — chapter warnings: inspired by the song “you” by chase atlantic, angst, hurt with a dash of comfort.

ᡣ𐭩 — from me to you: the second chase atlantic released this album i knew i had to write something inspired by it. i missed writing for bedsy and since he’s our golden, hardworking boy, i thought this was very fitting. hope u like it 🤍

ᯓᡣ𐭩

but you've been diggin' up the truth

haven't slept in like four nights now

blame it on substance abuse

out in the deep end, i'm swimmin', i'm swimmin' again

YOU WOKE up startled with the loud bang coming from somewhere inside your apartment, your whole body jumping and your heart starting to race inside your chest.

Now, almost fully awake, you stare at the clock sitting on your bedside table, reading the time. 4:13 a.m., and when you pat the other side of the bed, where your boyfriend of two years should be laying, you frown as you find it empty and lukewarm to the touch.

“Connor?” You whisper, scared to wake him up unnecessarily, even if you knew he wasn’t lying with you in bed. Again.

You get up, the fabric of his old Blackhawks sweater heating up your skin, as you put on your slippers and leave the bedroom, noticing traces of Connor’s absence here and there— his slippers aren’t by his side of the bed, his duffel bag isn’t on the hallway like it usually is, his water bottle isn’t on the couch like he had left it last night, when you both went no sleep at one in the morning.

So that’s why you don’t understand what he’s doing by the front door, ready to leave, even if he had only slept for three hours.

“Connor?” You call again, watching as his blue eyes look at you, surprise and guilt decorating his expression like a famous painting hanging on the Louvre’s wall. “What are you doing?”

Your voice is still soft, and despite the scare, your eyes can barely stay open. You’re tired, tonight was the first night you had allowed yourself to sleep freely since now you were done with your exams. And you were happy because you managed to convince Connor to come home earlier, at eleven instead of midnight, just so you could spend some time together, like you used to do when you started dating.

“Liv, hey,” he whispers, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

That’s when you realize what he’s doing. The bag, the stick on his hand, the outfit. He’s—

“Are you serious right now?” You take a deep breath, trying to maintain your composure. “You’re going to the rink? At four in the morning?”

“Baby, you know I need to,” he tries to sound convincing and if it wasn’t for the fact that this is probably the hundredth time he’s done this, you would’ve actually believed him. “We have a game coming up and—”

“Yes, I am well aware of that, Connor. But you went to sleep at one. Two nights ago, you also went to sleep at one and woke up at five. And the night before, and the night before that too.”

You don’t try to hide your feelings anymore. You want him to know you’re upset, and you want him to know that this, whatever the hell he’s doing, isn’t okay.

“I know, baby, but you know I have to keep practicing so I can help the guys.” He’s now facing you, his body visibly tense.

“That doesn’t even make sense, Connor, what the hell. There are other twenty fucking people in your team, you’re not the only player there. It’s not your responsibility only!” You cover your face with your hands, truly upset.

“Liv,” he calls your name, and it hurts to even hear it, because his voice is so full of guilt and shame. It makes you feel sick. “You’re not being reasonable right now. This is the NHL. You know how hard I’ve worked for this. There are people counting on me.”

“And I’m not one of them?” You whisper, making eye contact again, only to realize you’re not strong enough to have this conversation at four in the morning.

“Liv—”

“It’s fine, Connor. Go to practice.” You sigh, making your way back to the bedroom, praying that he doesn’t notice the tears running down your cheeks.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

you said, "take it easy, otherwise i'm leaving

yeah, i don't wanna stay and watch you die",

ᯓᡣ𐭩

CONNOR HAD an injury.

His jaw had been fractured, and he had to go to surgery to fix it. You were in the arena watching the game with Connor’s sister when it happened, and you had never been so scared.

You know Hockey is about hitting people as much as it is about playing and winning, but you won’t lie and say your heart doesn’t hurt inside your chest whenever you see Connor getting hurt on the ice.

And you aren’t dumb. You know that some players will purposefully hurt him just because he’s good. And even if people aren’t one hundred percent sure that that is what happened that night, you still remember the terrible feeling of losing when you were in the ambulance with Connor to the hospital, trying your hardest not to cry in front of anyone because you know what they would say.

She’s not tough enough to date a NHL player.

But you believed yourself to be tough. The only problem with all of this is that you knew Bedard would never take great care of himself, meaning that you’d have to be with him twenty-four-seven, which wouldn’t be a problem, if only he accepted your help.

Now, four weeks after the surgery, you’re inside the United Center, the Blackhawks arena in Chicago, stomping your feet as you walk towards the rink, the sound of your steps being muffled by Connor’s constant skating.

“Connor.”

You have to call him a few times so that he can finally get out of his head and look at you; once again, those blameworthy eyes looking down at you, as he skates closer to the benches where you were standing.

“Liv.”

“What do you think you’re doing, Connor?” You snap. “You’re supposed to be resting. You’re definitely not supposed to be on the ice.”

“I know, but my jaw is just fine. It doesn’t even hurt anymore.” He removes his helmet, running his gloved hand through his hair.

“It didn’t seem like it was fine last night when you had to swallow a bunch of pain pills because it was hurting. Connor, don’t you see what you’re doing to yourself?” You can feel your face heating up, and you’re trying so hard to keep your shit together but— “You have to allow your body to rest. If you keep up with this, you won’t get better—”

“That’s not an option, Liv, and you know it,” he hissed back, now looking more distressed than guilty. “This is my life. And I did allow myself to rest, I spent four weeks doing absolutely nothing, just like the doctor asked me to.”

“He said six to eight weeks, Connor,” you sigh, tired, not actually believing you’re having this conversation with him. “Please. Just think about how I feel when I know you’re not well enough to be here yet you still are.”

He pressed his lips together, placing his stick on the floor next to him and moving his helmet around his hands.

“Liv, you know I love you but this— Hockey is what I am. It’s what I do. You have to understand—”

“And I have done nothing but understand you!” You shout, finally losing your cool and snapping at him, your loud voice echoing through the empty arena’s walls. Connor takes a step back, but now you’ve already started and you won’t can’t stop. “Ever since we met, I have been nothing but understanding. I stood by your side at all times, even when what you were doing wasn’t healthy for you!”

“Olivia—”

“I went to sleep alone and cried more nights than you could ever imagine,” your voice cracks, and your stubborn tears are already rolling down your face. “I still supported you no matter what. I cooked your meals, I packed your bags, I went to those ridiculous gala dinners and I did it all with pleasure because I love you and you’re supposed to do these types of things for the people you love!”

“Baby—”

“So you don’t get to stand in front of me and ask me to understand how badly you treat yourself and how you don’t care about anything else besides Hockey when I gave up everything to be with you!” You try to wipe your face, stepping back when Connor tries to reach you. He frowns when you flinch. “I gave up my freedom because I wanted to be with you and God knows I’d do it all over again because I fucking love you.”

“Baby, I know all of this and I’m grateful, I really am but—”

You let out a wet chuckle, shaking your head. “There’s always a but with you.”

“Hockey is important to me, baby.”

“And I am not.”

The silence after your words is cruel, and it tears you apart, scratching your skin and making your insides hurt. His blue eyes, your favorite color to ever exist, are also filled with tears and you hate to see it. You hate to feel bad about saying these things.

The thing about loving someone is that the thread between giving up yourself for them and giving yourself to them is really thin.

You love Connor Bedard. Have loved him for years now. He makes you happy, he listens to you, he’s your best friend.

“You know that’s not true, Liv,” he gets closer, the sound of his skates hitting the ice making you want to puke. “You know you’re more important to me than any of this. You know I love you.”

“No, Connor, I don’t,” you whisper, smiling even when all you feel is pain. “I can’t do this. I won’t watch you d-destroy yourself and not do anything.”

He removes his gloves quickly and grabs your wrist, cold fingers holding your arm down. “Olivia, wait.”

“No,” You shake your head. “I need time. Sorry.”

You don’t look at his face as you leave the arena, and you certainly don’t listen to his voice shouting your name, over and over again.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

i don't know what to do

i’m stuck in a loop, stuck in a loop

ᯓᡣ𐭩

HE WATCHES you talking to the children from afar.

You’re sitting on the floor, and it’s so obvious you’re better different from everyone else at the party. The children surround you like you’re their favorite princess or superhero, all of them wanting a little bit of your attention.

Connor feels like he should be offended, since those kids were there to see his team in the first place. It was some kind of reunion Foligno arranged with the media team, inviting some of his son’s friends and some other children with less opportunities.

But he isn’t. First of all, he’s thankful because if it weren’t for your charm, he would be the one having to deal with the children, something he wasn’t very fond of. Sure, he likes kids and he’s happy they like him, but if he could avoid social interactions, he would.

Besides that, watching you happy is something that he had missed, and he feels like shit for it. He knows he hasn’t been a good boyfriend, and he knows he should do better. Ever since that one night at the rink, you haven’t been the same.

But if he thinks about it too much, he realizes that you haven’t been yourself for a long time now.

And it hurts.

It hurts because he doesn’t know what to do. He loves you, the very first girl he fell in love with, but he also loves Hockey. As a young player in the NHL, he feels like he constantly needs to prove himself to others, and since people give him so much attention, he needs to keep on being a good player.

He doesn’t know how to balance things, how not to spend hours and hours without end on the ice, muting all of his doubts and worries while he keeps throwing the puck in the net.

You smile at a little boy who’s now handing you a flower, and Connor smiles as he watches you ask the little boy to put it on your hair, laughing when the other kids stop their babbling to clap at your newest look.

You make eye contact with him, and he feels himself getting devastated when he notices that the shine in your eyes lessened a little when you looked at him.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

(why do you hate me?)

i could never hate you, despite the words that you've been sayin'

i’ve been having breakthroughs

and hoping you were proud, just maybe

anxiety drives me insane, and my newest addiction is pain

i know i said it was a ‘phase’

five years later, still stuck in my brain

ᯓᡣ𐭩

CLOSING THE front door with a sigh, you let your first sob out. The tears won’t stop, and you don’t bother to wipe them, it would be pointless.

All you want to do is slide down to the floor and stay there, letting the hardwood hurt your back and get you dirty, but you can’t. Your car decided to break in the middle of the road on your way back from college, and you had to walk until you found the nearest telephone to call your insurance company, which would’ve been fine if it weren’t for the terrible storm going on, the water drops penetrating your thin shirt like you weren’t even wearing anything in the first place.

It’s just one of those days where everything that could possibly go wrong goes wrong, but you’re already so fed up with life lately that this all seems too much.

“Liv? What happened, baby?”

You lift your head up faster than you should've, because now you can see tiny, black dots floating around in your vision. You weren’t expecting to see Connor at your house, much less wearing the apron you gave him when he prepared his first dish by himself two years ago— a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

“Connor,” you whisper, not looking him in the eye. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I texted you,” he says, removing the apron that read “cook it yourself, cunt”. “What happened, baby? Are you hurt?”

You don’t say anything, mostly because you’re certain that if you let one little word slip past your lips you’ll start crying uncontrollably once again, so you just shake your head and leave your things on the floor beside you, walking past him so you could get to your room.

He’s quick to follow, though, watching as you remove your wet clothes and get in the shower, both of you silent and lost in your own thoughts.

Not talking to Connor about your feelings feels weird, but you can’t help but feel like you’re holding him back. It’s sickening, because all you want is to stay with him and be happy, but sometimes loving is also letting go.

You get out of the shower, feeling the tears coming back when you spot the change of clothes Connor left for you on top of the toilet lid— his shirt, his pants, your favorite panties.

He knows you too well. He knows who you are as a person and he knows who you want to become. He knows your fears and your ambitions, he knows your dreams and hopes. He knows what you stand for and what you absolutely despise.

He knows you.

You change, and leave the bathroom quickly, wanting nothing more than to lay down and sleep for days.

“Some lady from your insurance company just called, saying your car will be ready next week,” Connor says, and only then you noticed he’d been standing next to your wardrobe the entire time, crossed arms in front of his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me your car was broken?”

You shrug. “I knew you were at practice. Didn’t want to bother you.”

“So you walked home? In the rain?” You can tell by his tone that he’s upset, but there’s nothing much you can do.

“I mean, what did you want me to do?” You scoff. “My phone died and I had no cash on me. And honestly, we both know that you would never leave the ice for something like this.”

“Liv, you know that’s not true,” he whispers, getting closer to you. “You know that I’d leave at any moment if I even knew you needed me.”

“Whatever,” you mumble before reaching for your phone in your bag, the device thankfully still dry, and put it to charge, removing the hundreds of pillows you have on top of your bed and throwing them on the carpet floor, already visualizing the amazing sleep you’d have.

“What are you doing?” You feel his hands on your back, his body closer to yours than it’s been in a while. “You haven’t had dinner yet. I cooked…”

His sad tone makes you break again, and you hate yourself for it. But you still love him so much, and it hurts to see what you’ve become.

“Liv, please, tell me what’s wrong,” he pleads, turning you around and wiping your tears with his thumbs. “I’ll fix it, I promise. Just tell me what’s wrong, baby.”

“Can you fix us?” You whisper, resting your head against his chest, inhaling his comforting scent. He smells like home and the winter. “Can you fix what we’ve become?”

He’s quiet for a while, long fingers caressing your hair, like he used to do back when you had started dating.

“I’m trying, I swear I am,” he whispers back, and you can finally hear genuineness in his voice. “You’re everything to me, baby, and I won’t lose you.”

“I’m not asking you to give up on Hockey,” you explain, watching as your tears stain his shirt. “I’m just asking you to take care of yourself. Connor, I need you to take care of yourself.”

“I know, baby, and I’m sorry,” he kisses your cheek, the first time his lips touch you in more than two weeks. “I’m so sorry.”

You listen to his heartbeat and sigh, choosing not to say anything. You know the only way you can find out if he’s being genuine or not is with time, because only it will tell if you’re fixable or not.

But as you let yourself sleep close to his body that night, losing yourself between the sheets and his arms, you can finally breathe again.

Because he said he’ll try, and Connor Bedard always tries his hardest with everything.

#cb98 #connor bedard x oc #connor bedard x you #connor bedard fic #connor bedard angst #connor bedard #connor bedard imagine #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl players #nhl hockey #hockey #chicago blackhawks

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prongsiepotter · 7 months ago

Text

down bad | j. potter

summary: you're so in love with james potter but he's a little too good at giving you mixed signals that it might actually ruin you

pairing: james potter x reader

warnings: angst, a little fluff if u squint, and so much longing & yearning. omg so much of it

a/n: i am unfortunately completely obsessed with taylor swift's new album, so everything i'll write in the near future will be based on one of the ttpd songs (yey!) & this one's based on 'down bad.' feel free to send requests if u want pick the next song for me x

──────── 𑁍︎ ‧₊°

"So he just said no?" Mary all but hisses. Marlene shushes her, glancing around the classroom before leaning down from where she's sitting on your desk.

"Are you sure it didn't mean something else?" She rests her hand on yours. "Maybe it was just a misunderstanding. He wouldn't…he just wouldn't, right?" You smile weakly at her, then shake your head. She squeezes your hand.

"The note was pretty clear," you say with a soft sigh. The sentence rolls off your tongue with unhidden bitterness. "Sorry, can't. Need to catch up on some assignments."

You would show it to them, so they could see for themselves and maybe divert their sympathetic gazes from you. But you had set it on fire right after reading it, just like the other two notes friendly rejecting you. You still aren't sure why you did it. After all, you did just tell Mary and Marlene that you're fine. At least you will be. You should not be this devastated over some guy.

Even if that guy is James Potter.

James who is now strolling into the room with his mates, looking as invincible and full of life as he always has and always will.

Quickly, you force a smile at the girls and pull out the chair next to you. Marlene, bless her, gets the hint and lightly shoves Mary's shoulder to have her take the seat. You're going through your book bag, pulling out your inkwell when four bodies make their way past your desk.

"Ladies," comes Sirius cheerfully loud voice as he bows at the waist because, of course, he does. Peter and Remus aren't as dramatic with their greetings. The latter, however, does take the time to slow down in front of you until you look up and return his kind smile. Belatedly, you realise perhaps you shouldn't have done that. You lock eyes with James, who's right behind him.

He sends you an easy smile and a wink. Like he's letting you in on another one of his rare secrets. You're not sure if you're smiling back, but it's almost a given that you are.

He takes his seat behind you, laughing blithely at a joke Pete just told, and it's all so painfully charming that you want to die. You fear he will always make you feel like this. Like you're somehow the chosen one. It's such a sickening feeling, you can't help but whip around and look at Mary, pleadingly. Though, you're not sure what you're pleading for anymore.

She shoots you another unbearably sympathetic smile, looking like she's close to cooing at you. You sigh, hiding your face in the crook of your arms.

You can't help but think how easy it would be to just cry right here. It's embarrassing to admit, but you've done it plenty of times over the weekend after you had seen James out at Hogsmeade with the others. Miserably, you had realised that he was, in fact, not too busy working on his assignments. He just didn't want to spend time with you.

You almost let out a sob.

A hand rubs your back and you know it can only be Mary, but you let yourself believe that it's the universe consoling you, as if to say there, there because there's nothing fair about this and she knows it, but there's nothing she can do it about now, can she?

History of Magic passes in a blur. Before you know it, you're in the library, pouring all of yourself into an essay that you normally couldn't have cared less for. But you're willing to do whatever it takes to keep yourself busy. You know your thoughts will stray the moment you're lying quietly in bed anyway, awaiting another sleepless night.

You finish the sentence and look up, satisfied with your work. Apparently it's been a while since you've torn your gaze away from the parchment before you, seeing how stiff your neck is. You knead at the uncomfortable knot in your shoulder while looking around the library. It's relatively full today with every other seat being taken.

Which makes it all the more irritating when your gaze snatches on a figure sat at the other table right across from you. He's not even looking up, head bent over a book, but you would recognise that mop of unruly dark curls anywhere. James must've seen you when he came in, but that might have just been your hopeful self speaking.

Begrudgingly, you resume your writing and it takes everything in you not to look up every few minutes. To glimpse the slight furrow in his brows and the small pout of his lips as he's carefully reading every paragraph. You know he's likely looking for something to prepare for a prank. Normally, you would simply go over and ask him what he's up to. You know he'd happily tell you. But you're glad to have at least a little bit of pride and dignity left that keeps you rooted in your spot.

Seemingly not enough though since all you can think about is that there's no way he doesn't know that you're right there. It really does make you want to bang your head against the table. Maybe that would finally catch James' attention.

Pathetically, you glance at him only to notice that he's packing his things to leave. The tip of your feather goes back to the parchment so fast, it almost pierces it. You haven't got a clue what you're writing, too busy tracking James' movements from the corner of your eyes.

You watch him stand up, walking down the length of his table towards the door down the hall on his right. Then he stops. You hold your breath. James seemingly hesitates before fixing the strap of his bag on his shoulder. He turns left and walks towards you. You're staring at your hand as it writes illegible words, completely out of your control, when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

"Hey," James whispers when you look up, giving you a familiar grin and small wave. It's an innocent gesture, sweet, but there's almost something hostile about this encounter. Like you have no choice but to let him occupy every single one of your senses. You stare up at him, a matching smile sweeping over your lips before you can think better of it.

That's when you notice the scarf he's wearing and its frizzled ends. It's yours. You know it is.

Did he not give it back to you after one of your nights out together on the stands? After you had flown on your brooms, so close to the sea of stars that you could've dipped your fingertips in them? You could almost hear the echoes of your windblown laughters as the memory pushes itself into the foreground of your mind.

James is sitting still, rosy-cheeked, watching you with curious eyes while you babble on about the Leo constellation. He had just told you that you could do whatever you want to him—another quite maddening thing to casually say to someone—and now he's apparently keen on staying true to his word by letting you wrap your scarf around his neck.

It took some convincing before he'd finally accepted it from you. You promised that you wouldn't be cold with your high collared sweater, but James only gave in when you had accepted his wool hat in exchange.

He had carefully put it on you, smoothing down your hair and pulling out some loose strands to frame your face, mumbling something about how much lovelier his hat looked on you than on him. You told yourself that he surely must've known what it did to you when his knuckles brushed your cheeks. Right? Surely.

James pokes your side, chuckling, as if he sensed that your mind was drifting elsewhere. He cracks another joke, saying that if you were the one to teach him Astronomy, he might actually pay attention in class. He says it like it's a deal and you feel inclined to do whatever it takes to hold up your side of the bargain.

You laugh helplessly, feeling drunk on a little bit of everything; the stars above, James' gentle laughter, the familiar smell of broom wax and crisp winter air. This must be cosmic love, you think to yourself. Your breath clouds in front of you, becoming one with his. All the while, you're too aware of James' shoulder bumping into you, his leg pressed against yours. There's no one out here but you two.

You have all the room in the world, but James chose to sit this close to you. Probably close enough for him to hear your heart pounding. Did he do it for a reason? You'd love to know.

"You don't need me to pay attention in Astronomy," you find yourself saying in response, something daring laced in the drawl of your voice. His eyes flash, bright and a bit wild. It's the same look he gets after you challenge him to a race on your brooms. His grin grows wide, carefree, and oh so lovely.

"Please." His face comes impossibly closer and you lean in without another thought, eager to take whatever it is James will give you. You feel his breath on your lips.

"I will always need you, Y/N."

Somehow he makes it sound genuine.

Then he winks and leaves you a horrid, forsaken mess. Somehow he makes that feel like a nice gesture too.

Incredulously, you stare at him as he leans back, elbows resting on the seats behind him. James Potter, you think weakly, what are you doing to me? Not for the first time you ponder what you would do if you can't have him. You almost double over from the striking pain in your chest.

Then he points out another constellation and you nearly forget all about yourself. He's good at that. Never ceasing to show you that the world is bigger than the two of you. Making you forget and remember that you might be in love. Because what if you were in love?

James cups the back of his neck, then points towards the door of the library, almost shyly letting you know that he's leaving. You nod slowly, still dazed. A small smile crosses his lips before you watch him round the corner, his back disappearing from your sight.

You blink, letting out a ragged breath. You feel like you got the wind knocked out of you. Like you just lost your twin. Someone who knows you like no one else ever will. Someone who might just be your better half. Someone who sometimes makes you feel like they want nothing to do with you.

It's ridiculous, you think bleakly to yourself, you're so down bad.

And James Potter makes it feel like a curse and a blessing.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter fanfiction #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #marauders fanfiction #marauders #taylor swift #ttpd #the tortured poets department

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folkloresthings · 3 months ago

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❛ HEAVEN KNOWS ❜ ❨ lando norris x singer!reader ❩

📻 track three: you’re just a boy (and i’m kinda the man)

in which the they were the perfect couple, until they weren’t. or in which we take a look back into what made heaven itself fall apart.

… OCTOBER 2023

INSTAGRAM. october second.

liked by irisapatow, rachelzegler and 810,673 more

yourusername time for another track! 🤡 i first started writing you're just a boy (and i'm kinda the man) after listening non-stop to taylor swift and shania twain and i decided what i really needed was to take those feelings and make a female power song of my own. so i wrote one! it helped me to remember that losing the love of a man does not make you any less of a person, and i hope it can do the same for others. oh, and it's also a bop.

view all 499,020 comments

user QUEEN

taylorswift you're kinda making me feel like... i'm the man 💪👸

user i fear this will tear lando's ego to shreds

⤷ user it doesn't feel fair on him, like he doesn't get to tell his side of the story

⤷ user girl there's definitely a reason he's kept quiet 😭

lissiemackintosh soooo excited for this one!!!! my new karaoke song?

⤷ yourusername come at do it at the concerts

⤷ lissiemackintosh i like your fans too much to do that to them

user CLOWN LANDO ERA

REWIND... OCTOBER 2022

"guess what, guess what!"

lando was mid-game when you rushed into the living room, glancing up from the television when you bound into view. he slips back one side of his headphones, eyes following suit a few moments later once the screen is paused.

“what?”

“guess!”

lando sighs, but a smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. “lewis finally retired?”

“no, silly.” scoffing, you slap at his arm and plonk down next to him on the couch. “management just called — i’ve been asked if i want to do a world stadium tour. the bowl, wembley, madison square garden!”

lando’s mouth fell open in slight shock, your excitement obviously contagious as his eyes light up. in a split second he wraps his arms around you and hugs you tightly.

“holy shit, babe,” he murmurs, squeezing your waist.

“i know,” you squeal quietly, muffled against his shoulder. “they just need to set up the next album release and then announce the dates.”

behind your embrace, the cogs of lando’s head start to turn and calculate the information. sitting back, he looks at you with confusion set in his brow.

“when would that be?” he asks, head tilted.

you shrug, not noticing his growing resentment of the news. “depends. they want the album done for late summer, so that means an autumn release. so probably in the new year.”

“the second half of the season?”

lando’s cold tone makes you smile, almost uncomfortably, waiting for his former excitement to return. uneasily, you nod.

“well, yeah, but—”

“i thought you said you were going to come to all the races, since you’ve only been to monaco and silverstone this season?” he cuts you off. you catch the frustration in his eyes like a hawk, shifting off of his lap before it bubbles over. “you’re not going to be able to do that if you’re on tour.”

“that’s not true,” you try and reason, hopeful that your calm tone might balance his. “there’s texas and vegas. besides, i don’t even know what dates i’ll have shows yet, i could fly in for race days.”

lando shakes his head, pushing himself from the couch cushions and onto his feet. “that’s not the point. you promised you’d be there for me this season. i actually have a chance for once, and you don’t even care.”

the dismissive tone that spits off his tongue makes you flinch, a heavy frown falling around your cheeks. “what am i supposed to do? turn down my biggest tour yet to come watch you race every single week?”

“yes!” lando exclaims, turning sharply. “that’s what good girlfriends do — look at kika and lily!”

anger pricks at your eyes and throat, swallowing hard to keep it at bay. “you haven’t been to one of my shows in months. you don’t even have time to listen to demos when i ask you to. there are two of us in this relationship, lando. it isn’t always about you.”

you see his defence ready behind his lips but you’re quicker, ready before he can speak.

“i went to every single race last season,” you tell him. your tone is calm, steady — making the words even more intense. “every one. i have been your biggest fan since day one. so don’t ever, ever, say i’m being selfish.”

lost for words, lando stares at you. only because he knows it’s true does he halt his argument there, turning and storming into the bedroom to preserve some dignity. you stare at the slamming door and wonder how he can watch on so easily as you slip through his fingers, and not want to do anything at all?

INSTAGRAM. november twenty—fourth.

liked by danielricciardo, maxfewtrell and 928,244 others

yourusername always your #1 fan (even when you dnf) 🫶

view all 630,737 comments

carlossainz55 did he get a lollipop for being a good patient?

⤷ yourusername and a sticker 😄😄

user poor lando

landonorris my favourite nurse ❤️

user they’re sooooo cute

user that crash looked bad

yourusername dw guys i’m giving him lots of kisses and rubs better !!!!!

⤷ landonorris not as many as i’d like 😏

⤷ yourusername you’ve got a hello kitty plaster on your head you cannot be seductive right now

"oh, shit."

the fight that dreaded evening had hung over both you and lando for weeks, both of you much too stubborn to admit to any wrongdoing or, god forbid, apologise. but you carried on. if anything it was worse than not speaking. it was like nothing had happened, as if the conversation never even happened, as long as neither one of you mentioned it. still, there was a tension holding you at arms length from each other.

so to not bring up the same argument again, you followed lando to the next few races. come vegas, you had given yourself so much time to think about things and the way lando had handled it all that your mind was screaming at you to leave. to book a flight home, pack up your stuff and go. because how much more of this could you take? you weren't the trophy girlfriend, the wag whose only job was to look pretty beside her accomplished boyfriend.

you would do it after vegas, you decided. there was a few days off; time for you to talk to lando and explain your feelings, before walking out with your head held high just in time for the next race. then, the worst happened.

chatting idly to lily, the race only just beginning, you almost missed it. for a moment, you thought it was oscar spinning out. the bright orange sparks masked which number was painted onto the car, spinning drastically until the nose of the vehicle slammed into the barriers. lily grasped your arm, her sympathetic eyes making you look twice. number four, lando.

in a daze, you followed the one of the marshalls through the busy paddock until you reached the ambulance area. he had already been loaded in, paramedics and mclaren employees surrounding him. there wasn't enough room, they needed to go now.

"hop in, i'll drive you," charlotte's gentle voice appeared beside you, guiding you into the car as the ambulance hurried off. "they said he's probably fine, they just want to do the usual checks."

you nod, trusting her. you could always trust charlotte, right?

after what felt like hours, you arrived to the hospital and didn't think twice about elbowing every single person out of your way until you reached lando's room. he was laid still on the bed, eyes watching the small television in the corner. his leg was strapped up, an iv stuck into his arm, various bruises littering his skin and face. he looked up when he heard you, a crooked smile playing on his lips.

"it looks worse than it is," he assured you, noticing the panic in your eyes straight away. you breathe out some of the relief, the rest coming in a sudden pool of tears. "hey - hey, c'mere."

lando outstretches the arm that doesn't hurt like a bitch, ushering you to his side. you don't hesitate, lip wobbling as you hurry over and perch yourself on the side of the bed. tucked into his shoulder, you nuzzle as closely as you can without hurting him.

"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry," you mumble, and you both know just what you're apologising for. what was a stupid fight worth when chalked up to all of this?

"me too," lando replies quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head.

sitting back, you look over his face. a small scratch from the helmet, just above his cheekbone. his eyes are drooping, tired from the impact and the drugs. you sniffle and smile sadly, thumb brushing over the wound.

"i'm going to move the tour," you tell him, and note that he doesn't protest. "if i'm on the other side of the world and something happens, i—”

lando shakes his head, cutting you off with a kiss. "nothing's going to happen. i'm still in one piece, aren't i?"

you hesitate, then nod, letting him shift over so you can lay next to him. resting your head on his chest, both of you quietly watching the rest of the race, you feel your head spin. maybe he had been losing you, but could you survive losing him?

writers note: we're back baby. lando count yr days my man

taglist: @openthenyoor01 @racingheartsworld @celestialend @cha-hot @gr1mes-cc @bingussthirdtoe @destinyg237 @theonottsbxtch @allywthsr @imsorare @youdontknowmeshh @bellewintersroe @orangetreekid

#💋 HEAVEN KNOWS.#lando norris fic #lando norris instagram edit #lando norris smau #lando norris drabble #lando norris blurb #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic

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buckevantommy · 6 days ago

Text

What about all of this is real? We are.

This is not how they end.

It hasn’t even been a week but it feels like a fucking eternity. It’s not the first time Buck’s been dumped, not the first time someone has walked out on him when he wanted more, but it’s the worst heartache he’s ever felt and he knows– he knows it’s because this isn’t how things are supposed to go for them.

He’s done feeling sorry for himself. He’s not giving up on Tommy, on what they have together.

And he doesn’t think Tommy is done with them, either.

The drive to Tommy’s house isn’t fast but it passes in a blur; between the peak hour traffic and usual gridlock he has plenty of time to ruminate on everything he wants to say, and all the arguments Tommy can throw at him and all the ways Buck can rebut them.

Pulling into the drive, he doesn’t notice the unfamiliar car parked next to Tommy’s truck. He’s walking up the front path and knocking with insistent force before he even registers leaving the jeep. He’s on a mission.

Soon as the door opens Buck is barging his way inside. “You don’t get to decide what’s best for me or how I feel!”

With a resigned, if somewhat bitchy sigh, Tommy mutters, “Come on in,” and closes the door behind him.

“I know how I feel about you and it isn’t some passing infatuation, Tommy– I love you!” He goes harder than he means to, and heavier on the blame, but he thinks he gets the main points across.

Tommy stares at him for a moment, not saying anything. Buck starts getting restless again. If Tommy has nothing to say to that then Buck has plenty more. He gears up to lay the rest of his cards on the table–

When someone clears their throat behind him.

Buck whips around to find a strange man standing in Tommy’s living room, beer bottle in hand.

“Oh.” A pang of something ugly lances through Buck’s heart. “Guess you moved on faster than I did,” he mutters darkly.

The mystery man cracks a humorless laugh. “Not fucking likely.”

Buck doesn’t know what to do with that.

“Sal Deluca,” the man says, stepping forward and extending his hand. Buck takes it, incandescent jealousy and the throbbing heartache that’s made breathing difficult all week making way for a numb sort of recognition. He’s heard mentions of Sal, and the face clicks with some old photos he’s seen in Tommy’s photo albums; because Tommy’s old school like that and has printed photos in physical albums people can flip through. Sal is an old friend of his who moved away years ago. “Worked with this lug back at the 118,” he says. “And we are not boning or romancin’ each other.”

Buck catches Tommy rolling his eyes.

“In fact, I’m in town for the first time in almost a year and what do I find? This idiot throwing away the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”

“Sal.”

Sal ignores Tommy’s warning tone, trains his eyes on Buck, his voice pitched low and sincere. “I don’t even know you, but I know that much.”

He leaves with a clap to Tommy’s shoulder and something muttered that sounds like, “Don’t screw this up again,” and then he’s out the door.

“You should go,” Tommy says quietly, when it’s just the two of them standing there, too far apart.

Now that Buck gets a better look at him, Tommy looks tired. Ragged. Like he hasn’t slept in a week. Buck can relate. “No.”

“Buck–”

“Don’t you dare.” He tries sounding fierce but it just comes out broken. He’s never been ‘Buck’ to Tommy and he sure as hell doesn’t wanna start now. That name means they’re over, and he’s not letting that happen without a fight. “I said, I love you.”

“I heard you.”

“And, what? You don’t believe me? Or you think I’m too dumb to know when I’m in love with someone?”

“I never said that–”

“I’ve been in love before, Tommy– more than once. And just because they were women and you’re the first guy I fell for doesn’t make what I feel any less real!”

“But it doesn’t mean it’s going to last.”

He sounds tired, too. Like maybe he’s been up all night every night thinking about them. Maybe he leaned on Sal like Buck’s been leaning on Eddie; a good friend who lets you pour your heart out until there’s nothing left but a hollow ache in your chest, drained eyes and confusion.

But the worst part is how resigned he seems, like it’s over and there’s nothing to be done about it. There’s a lot Tommy hasn’t thought through properly.

“I may be new to being bisexual, but that doesn’t mean my heart is new. And frankly, it’s pretty insulting of you to assume I don’t know what I’m feeling, or how I’ll feel months or years from now.”

That seems to land like a blow, Tommy’s already creased brow pinching as he looks away. “You don’t have experience with men–”

And that fucking does it. “I’m not a kid, Tommy! I don’t need you to tell me what I need! And I’m not any of those guys who hurt you– doesn’t matter if they were gay, or bi, or whatever!” Buck wants to yell at him some more: call him a coward, an asshole for predicting the worst in people.

Tommy shakes his head. He still doesn’t look at Buck.

“You don’t get to just end this because you’re scared. That’s not how this works– we’re supposed to talk about it.” It’s been a constant in their relationship: talking things through. It’s the first relationship Buck’s had with such an open and honest line of communication, and there’s no way he could go back to anything else.

Tommy looks up, then, and meets Buck’s gaze. His eyes are watery and his words come out choked. “I don’t want to end this.”

“Then don’t,” Buck pleads, daring to close a bit of the distance between them.

Tommy pulls back. Not far, and not much with his feet, more with his shoulders, but it’s enough to make Buck’s heart sink.

Because Tommy is denying himself – like that night before he first kissed Buck and changed his life for the better; he was so hesitant to believe that he was part of their team, too – he’s not letting himself have something good because he doesn’t think he deserves it, doesn’t think it’s real. “We’re not too good to be true.”

“What?”

“You said that, about the parking space,” Buck recalls. He’s run the conversation over in his head a thousand times since that night.

“That’s.. not what I meant.” Tommy seems less convinced by his own words, now.

“Every other relationship I’ve had has fallen apart because I didn’t see the end coming,” Buck admits. “Because we weren’t compatible. And part of me was worried with you, at first, because I’d always been the one who ends up alone.” It’s painful to think about, to think Tommy could be just another in a long line of people Buck wore his heart on his sleeve for but who didn’t want him as much in return. “But you kept proving to me over, and over that you were there for me, and you wanted me around, and you didn’t think I was too much.” Buck has to swallow around the desperate rasp coming through in his voice now. He blinks to keep his vision clear.

There’s something there, then: a look on Tommy’s face telling him plainly that he could never be too much for him, that that’s not what this about. And there’s something else familiar, too: fear. The same glimpse of fear Buck saw that night before Tommy walked out on him. The same kind of fear Buck’s seen in the mirror his whole life.

Tommy’s afraid they won’t last.

Tommy’s afraid he’s not enough.

“Please don’t think like that,” Buck pleads again. “Like there’s an expiration date for us.”

“I can’t help it.”

“Yes, you can!” Buck erupts again, frustrated with how willing Tommy is to just roll over and let their relationship die. “Just believe in us! Tell me what I have to do to get you to believe how serious I am about you– how much I care about you, and see you for who you are, and want all of you for as long as possible.”

Tommy shakes his head, eyes downcast, and Buck can’t take it anymore– he closes the remaining distance between them. Stands toe to toe with Tommy, proximity alone silently demanding he listen to what he has to say.

“Hey,” he says softly, but with that same dogged determination that’s been distilled over the years into something less reckless and more mindful. He curls a finger under Tommy’s chin, gently nudging it up until he looks at him.

There’s armor in place, but Tommy’s peeking through. And he hasn’t moved away. He hasn’t given up, not completely. He needs Buck to fight for them, to know they’re worth fighting for. Maybe then he’ll finally believe they can make it.

“I love you. I’ve been searching my whole life for a love like this, so don’t tell me this isn’t real– I know how I feel,” Buck insists, then calms. “And I think you feel the same.”

“Evan–”

“I’m not giving up on us. So you can fight me, or you can fight for us.”

Tommy exhales a shaky breath, averting his eyes again. Buck can see the tears making them wet, tracking down his cheeks as he ducks his head. He can hear them in the way Tommy’s voice wavers. “You think too highly of me, kid.” It’s not a jab, the name. Tommy’s protecting his vulnerable underbelly.

“Do you trust me?”

Tommy takes a beat. “I want to,” he confesses, quiet in the small space where their bodies don’t touch, could touch but not yet; he’s holding his breath.

Buck braces himself. “Do you love me?” It’s a simple question, one he’s pretty sure he knows the answer to. But those few seconds before Tommy speaks are nerve wracking as hell and long enough for a thread of doubt to try to weave its way back into his mind – the same doubt he’d finally quashed before he jumped in his jeep and drove across town: what if he read this all wrong? What if Tommy doesn’t actually love him? His own breath catches painfully in his lungs; he’s on a precipice, heart balanced for a freefall that could see him plummet to the ground, or.. or spread wings, and.. fly.

Tommy lifts his head, his beautiful eyes rimmed red and making his irises that much bluer by contrast. “Evan, I’m so in love with you,” he breathes out; a sigh of anguish, like truth and painful honesty, airing grievance out into the world so that it might ease the weight sitting on his chest, the kind that makes it hard to breath, hard to exist. “You’ll be the death of me, kid.”

It’s not the first time he’s said that, although the other times were under very different circumstances. But it was always playful, and Buck can see the words for what they are now: a defense mechanism. Buck’s heart aches for him, but Tommy’s admission also sets something aglow in his own chest, something warm and pure and precious. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he promises.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know it. We’ve both been hurt before– but we don’t need to hurt each other. And, I get it– you were trying to protect yourself when you walked out on me that night.”

Tommy moves to turn away, ends up just shuffling in place. He still wants to be close to Buck.

“Why can’t we just try? ‘Cause if you think you’re the only one who’d be heartbroken if this doesn’t work out, you’re wrong.” He’s realized some things this past week: he doesn’t adhere to whatever bullshit stereotype there is about men who are bi or people who come to terms with their queerness later in life – he doesn’t need to play the field or experiment or whatever crap Tommy tried to pass off as reason enough to justify his fears. He also realized that he loves Tommy – more than he’s ever loved anyone, more than he thought was possible to love someone but maybe always secretly hoped was in his future, even when that dark voice in his head tried to convince him no one would ever love him as much.

But Tommy does. Tommy loves him so much the thought of Buck breaking up with him scared him into ending things before he could get his own heart broken. But what he feels for Tommy isn’t some kind of puppy love or something he’ll grow out of or get bored of; it’s real, and Tommy thinking he’s not enough, that he’s not forever-kind-of-love material doesn’t dissuade Buck any; he’s intimately familiar with issues of self worth.

Whatever insecurities Tommy has about being someone’s last love doesn’t apply to Buck. “You’re enough, for me. You’re everything, actually. Everything I ever wanted and more I didn’t know I could want.”

A heavy moment passes between them where Buck sees his words sink in. They seem to weigh Tommy down, even more.

He wants so badly to reach out, to speak the words into his mouth, press them into his skin until Tommy can’t deny how real they are because he’ll feel them with every breath, every movement.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Tommy admits, voice soft and more vulnerable than Buck’s ever heard it. “I can’t lose you, Evan. If you ask me to try, and then–” he cuts himself off, shakes the thought away, tries to barricade himself back behind his armor.

Maybe Buck can’t fully understand Tommy’s fear because he hasn’t experienced what he has, but he knows what it’s like to try and fail, to love and be left. But the two of them are on the same page this time – for everything that matters – not reading from separate books like Buck and all of his exes. “Did I ever tell you about Thomas and Mitchell?”

“Um, no. I don’t think so. Friends of yours?” Buck can see Tommy’s still raw, still hiding, but he goes along with it, gives him the opening, like he’s always done.

“No, they uh.” Buck swallows, the memory still affects him even all these years later. “They were an elderly gay couple I met on a call a few years back. Well, I met Thomas. Sat with him after he watched his husband die.”

Tommy tries to look unimpressed with having to listen to a sad story – he’s more of a romcom guy; lighthearted storylines and happy endings, Buck knows – but his face crumples a bit in sympathy.

“He said, Mitchell was his heart, and that they wanted to go together. I could see how heartbroken he was, and the thought of loving someone like that and then losing them? I couldn’t imagine what that must be like.”

Tommy doesn’t say it but Buck can almost hear his gently snarky tone: we’re not dead, Evan. He can see the words held back behind the purse of Tommy’s lips.

“I told him I hoped to find a love like that some day. And he told me something I’ve carried with me ever since.” Tommy searches his face, and Buck feels the truth of Old Thomas’ words in this moment. “He said: you don’t find it, you make it.”

Tommy blinks. “Are you saying you want to grow old with me?”

Buck can’t help his smile; it’s the first real one he’s had because of Tommy all week– one not tinged in pain and regret. There’s the Tommy he knows and loves. “I’m saying, I want to make it with you. Because these past six months have been the best of my life, Tommy. And I realized it’s because I found you– my person– and I want to make a future with you.”

And there’s that tentative smile – the same one Tommy wore on their makeup coffee date all those months ago when he gave Buck a second chance.

They deserve a second chance, now. They deserve to try.

“I can’t move in with you,” Tommy settles on, and it sounds like a but, like: I can’t move in with you, but I want to be with you.

Buck shakes his head before Tommy even finishes. “That’s okay, we don’t have to live together.” He knows the unspoken yet doesn’t go unnoticed for the way Tommy’s narrowed eyes assess him. There’s no use hiding it. “I do want to live with you, some day. I want to build a life with you. But, we can take it slow.”

“I don’t think ‘slow’ is in your repertoire.” It’s a joke. Tommy’s smile is less fragile, his armor lowered.

Buck smiles again, hopeful; Tommy’s coming out of hiding.

He reaches out, fingertips grazing Tommy’s, his movements unhurried. Tommy lets him tangle their fingers together.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Tommy says, “Okay.”

Buck’s falling, diving, soaring. And he’s not alone. “Would a kiss be out of the question right now?”

That crinkly smile that Buck loves so much finally makes its return, creasing around Tommy’s eyes like rays of sunshine. He didn’t realize just how much he missed the sight of Tommy’s joy until he’s faced with it head on, bright and gorgeous. He feels nourished in its presence, especially knowing he’s the cause of it. He thinks it’s okay to be a little proud of that.

Tommy kisses him. Oh– this.. he’s missed this: the press of Tommy’s lips on his, his stubble scraping against Buck’s skin– catching on Buck’s own scruff. He slides a hand up Tommy’s chest, feeling the warm, toned bulk of him. Hooks his fingers around Tommy’s neck to pull him in more, bring their bodies flush, slip his tongue into Tommy’s mouth and get a proper taste of him.

One of Tommy’s large hands fits tentatively to Buck’s hip, one last show of hesitance. Buck disentangles their fingers and covers both of Tommy’s hands, moving them to rest heavier, grip him firmly, with no room for uncertainty.

“No more running away,” Buck murmurs, nose brushing alongside Tommy’s. He feels more than sees Tommy shake his head.

“No more running,” he agrees, following with another lingering kiss that’s begging to be deepened.

Buck breaks it to add: “We’re in this together.”

Tommy nods. “I’m with you.”

It’s not how he thought their first love confessions would go, but they’ll be stronger for it, he knows that much. And he knows Tommy loves him. And Tommy knows Buck loves him in return. And that’s a pretty good starting place for a second chance.

#bucktommy #fixit #fanfiction #tevan kinkley firepilot #evantommy #the episode that shall not be named #.txt #quick note: while the breakup is recognised in this (bc i fix it) the abby bs is not. we don't recognise that shit in this house #also: yes the title is from that destiel scene :3 #i apologise for the excessive use of the em dash and italics. i was vibin.

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gguk-n · 10 days ago

Text

Tracks & Beats (Max Verstappen x Rapper!Reader)

Face claim- Lee Sung Kyung. Reader is best friend's with Suga of BTS. Google translated Korean. All the pictures are from Pinterest.

Max winning after 4 months!!

y/ngotswings is Max's fan account

2016

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by 3,890 others Tagged bts.bighitoffiicial

y/n.y/l/n 최고의 프로듀서이자 래퍼 중 한 명과 함께 일할 기회가 있었다 Had the chance to work with one of the best producers and rapper

user15 언니 그 노래는 정말 좋았어 😭😭unnie the song was so good user16 collab of the century!!😍😍 user17 사랑해 ❤️❤️i love you y/ngotswings Best song yet!!😭❤️

2019

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by 7,264 others Tagged bts.bighitofficial

y/n.y/l/n 나와 함께 노래를 작업해준 윤기 오빠 고마워 Thank you Yoongi oppa for working on this song with me!!

user18 OMG!!! The way his voices meshes with hers😍😍 user19 Their collab's keep getting better and better😭😭 user20 언니 잘했어 👍👍unnie, good job!! user21 넌 정말 예쁘다 누나 😍you're so pretty, noona y/ngotswings I cried😭😭

2023

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by 10,500 others

y/n.y/l/n comeback season!!!

user22 this comeback was sooooo goooddd!! user23 i loved the album user24 i can't wait to watch you live user25 화이팅 👍👍Fighting!! user26 당신의 미소가 정말 좋아요 ❤️❤️I love your smile user27 나는 너에게 키스하고 싶어 😘😘I want to kiss you y/ngotswings Best album ever!! Can't wait for more!!❤️❤️

2024

Max is twitter user- Redbull gives y/n wings

{Max's POV}

I'm not someone who engages in arguments on twitter but when people kept shipping Y/N with that guy, I don't know why but it was pissing me off!!

So, I might've done something a few months ago in the heat of the moment which was embarrassing when I thought about it too much but now I feel like not so much. I mean, I'm kind of famous, maybe I can use that to my advantage. So, I did something. I asked RedBull to invite her to the Japanese Grand Prix. It's close enough and honestly, I wasn't sure she would agree but she did, so I guess a win is a win.

{Max's POV}

I've met so many celebrities before but non of them have left me feeling this giddy and excited but I've never been a fan of half the celebrities that would come to the races.

Y/N was different, she was so sweet and asked questions which made it seem like she was interested in the sport so I couldn't help but answer those. I mean, we were the hosts.

"Hi, I'm Y/N" she introduced herself. I know I thought. "I'm Max" I replied. "I hear that you're the best right now" she smiled. I felt a blush creep in. "Ah...It's nothing. I just do my best" I mumbled. "No need to be humble if you're talented" she said smiling. I felt my heart race.

She was here for the weekend which meant I got to spend a lot of time with her. She was so much more fun and exciting to be around compared to what I saw on the internet. She was funny and had the cutest little laugh.

As I spent more time with her, I fell in love as if I wasn't already. I mean, I did orchestrate our meeting. "Dude, you have to ask her out" Lando whispered. "What?" I said looking at him. "You've had a crush on her for years now. I remember you rapping her songs even though they aren't in a language you speak since I joined" Lando pointed out. "But wouldn't it be weird" I asked. "What is weird is you inviting her and then staring at her from a far with heart eyes" Lando laughed. "Hey" I grimaced. "Sorry Max, but we all think it's cute. This little crush of yours" Charles interrupted. "Not you too" I whined. "Actually, all of us have a betting pool going" Pierre said. "He wasn't supposed to know" Daniel laughed, shaking his head. "You guys bet on me" I almost screamed. "In our defence, we've never seen you like a love sick puppy. Let us have this" Daniel defended. I shook my head and walked away.

"You look annoyed, everything okay?" Y/N asked. "Yeah" I smiled. "Must be fun, travelling with all these people and getting to do what you love" she asked. "It is. I even get to meet celebrities like this" I said. "I feel like you're more famous than I am. Maybe I should be the one star struck" she laughed. "You know, if you're free" I said twiddling my thumbs. It was now or never, what's the worst that could happen, she would say no and then I would spend the rest of eternity pining for her. "maybe we could go on a date?" I said scratching the back of my head. "I am" she replied. "After I win the race, maybe we could go celebrate?" I suggested. "I would love to celebrate with you" she smiled. Maybe if I died now, I would die happy.

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by 45,890 others Tagged maxverstappen1, schecoperez, redbullracing

y/n.y/l/n Thank you for having me!! Lot of fun watching Max win!!

redbullracing we loved having you!! maxverstappen1 you are always invited back!! Liked by Author y/ngotswings I think I can die happy now user28 OMG!!😱😱😱 user29 ❤️❤️😍😍 user30 Okay...to that one twitter user👀 user31 the second picture is so cute😫😘 user32 예쁜 😍😍pretty user33 사랑해 ❤️❤️love you

Max and Y/N started dating a few weeks after that meeting at the grand prix. Due to their hectic schedules, they weren't able to spend as much time together. Hence, during the summer break, Max was in South Korea, trying to make the most of their time together.

Max was lounging in Y/N's room, when she plopped down next to him. "You know my friend" she began. "Yoongi, the one you're close to" Max finished. "Yeah, he'll be off tomorrow from his duty and he wanted to meet you" she muttered. "Oh" was all that left Max's lips. "I haven't dated anyone in a while because of many reasons" she said looking down, "and oppa, just wants to make sure....you know how older brothers are" she said. "I get it." Max nodded along. "Where are we meeting?" Max asked. "At home, he can't really be out in public without being swarmed" Y/N laughed. "I saw with how many of his pictures are plastered all over the place" Max laughed.

The next day, the table was set. The two of them waited for Yoongi to show up while cuddling on the couch. "Do you think he'll like me?" Max asked, breaking the silence. "He'll love you" Y/N replied while kissing Max's lips. Then the door bell rang, "Must be him" Y/N announced and went to see. She came back with Yoongi in tow. "Hello" Yoongi greeted with his hand out. "Hi" Max replied, shaking his hand. He towered over Yoongi a bit. "How old is he again?" Yoongi asked Y/N in Korean. "The same age as Jungkook, the same month too. Jungkook's in the beginning of the month and he's in the end" she replied. Max was confused as to what they were talking about. "Korea is big on age hierarchy, so I was telling him when you're birthday is" Y/N explained looking at Max's confused face which morphed into one of understanding soon.

They proceeded to dinner, while making small talk. Y/N was happy watching Yoongi getting along with Max, a dream for her honestly. After dinner, while Y/N cleaned up; the two men sat together watching her move fluidly. "I said I could help" Yoongi called out who was now watching her. "You know I'm a control freak. You two should get to know each other" she called out. Yoongi slowly sat down, Max joining soon after.

"You both have busy schedules" Yoongi began, "That's why I try to make as much time as I can. We have a schedule in place, since I'm travelling so much. It's working out" Max quickly replied. "Even then, can you keep her happy?" Yoongi asked. "I'll try my best. I can't imagine her sad or crying and worst because of me" Max shuddered. "Good" Yoongi nodded. "Listen Max, nothing against you but she's like a sister and I don't want anyone to hurt her" Yoongi reiterated. "I promise I won't ever hurt her and if I ever do, which I won't, you know where to find me. Finish me" Max stated. Yoongi smiled patting his back. "I like this one" Yoongi called out to Y/N. Y/N popped her head up, "He said he approves" she called out to Max. "I never said that" Yoongi chided. "Same same" she laughed.

Yoongi soon got ready to leave, "I had a good time. Thank you for the food" he said hugging her. "Thank you for coming. Drive safe" Y/N called out as he was leaving. "Take care of her" Yoongi told Max as he closed the door. Max looked at Y/N; "Great first impression" Y/N stated with her hands around his neck. "I think so too" Max replied kissing her. "I love you" Max stated looking into her eyes. Y/N's eyes widened before she smiled, "I love you too" she said kissing him

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