#man i said in another post no regrets abt staying up even if i have a bit of a headache but NOOOO IT HASN'T GONE AWAY YET | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

babydarkstar · 3 years

Text

cacoethes

part two: bring your sweet loving

rating: E (18+ ONLY) || pairing: ezra x f!reader || word count: 10.5k

chapter summary: as the night winds down and tensions simmer, we learn more about you, pieces of your past, and your relationship with ezra.

warnings: ezra’s gigantic mouth that won’t shut up (suggestive language) and two criminals not knowing how to act; caretaking, i guess? reader cleans ezra but it’s nothing erotic; SMUT; handjob and graphic depictions of a glorious dick; dirty talk; dubcon maybe bc painkillers but he’s enthusiastic abt it; praise kink; switches having a great time; ezra’s subby in this but i promise he’s a dom too just not tonight; mentions of death, killing, tattoos, scars; mention of past drug use, bad coping mechanisms; mm i hc that ezra is a tiny tattoo guy so there’s that; fluff bc im sweet; author is a southern peach, forgive her if it gets a little slow and twangy up in here

a/n: un-beta’d bc mistakes are sexy. i’ll go back later and fix whatever i find but for now. enjoy. i’m literally just making shit up about this universe as we go but it’s working out for the best so bear with me. lmk if u want me to add u to be tagged here. tagging: @pedros-mustache @jk7789

crossposted to ao3 :) || playlist || one || two || three

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“Here, Cee,” you said, adjusting the threadbare blanket over your cot and splaying a hand over it while she eyed you from across the tent, still standing amongst the carnage of a violent field surgery, “I’ll sleep on the floor tonight.”

The poor girl was scared. Well—not scared, not anymore.

Vengeful, for certain, though it seemed to dwindle with every minute she watched you interact.

Definitely wary of the two of you.

Which was appropriate, given that Ezra had killed her father and left her alone on an uninhabitable moon, only to be scooped up by his partner and deceived into thinking she was safe, and then forced to perform impromptu surgery to hack off an arm. But she appeared more wary to accept help from you than wary of you.

And honestly, if Ezra hadn’t just lost a limb and you didn’t want to hover beside him after not seeing him for a month to make sure he didn’t slip the veil in his sleep or disappear beneath your fingertips—and if you weren’t trying to earn her trust, you’d have made her take the floor.

But things were different now, they might always be. She had saved his life. You owed her your cot to sleep on.

“Wait,” Ezra said, swallowing thickly as he blinked, seeming to just process the words you had spoken, “You think so little of me that I’d let you sleep on the dirt after the day you’ve had? Now, I agree that our guest should find comfort in a cot of her own, but I will not deny you the simple respite of sleep. That would prove me an unworthy companion.”

“Ezra,” you said, giving him a look of incredulity that seeped into your tone, “You can’t be serious.”

He eyed you and clenched his jaw, still stomaching the fact that he had one less limb to worry about, and a bunch more problems to deal with. It was a look that told you he was not arguing with you, you were going to sleep on the cot. He would not be coddled like a child just because he lost an arm.

Which was, in itself, ridiculous. You didn’t plan to coddle him—you weren’t the type, not really. But. He’d lost a fucking arm. But he was also still delirious from the anesthetic, so that didn’t help his desire to prove something to the universe.

“You’re taking the cot, I’m not having this conversation,” you said, wiping his sweaty brow with your sleeve, “Tap into the ruthless outlaw inside of you and take it without regret. You know I hardly sleep anyways, I’ll live without a bed for the night.”

“Then I must insist you share it with me, precious angel,” he sighed, and you could almost see the cogs in his head turning as his distant gaze darkened into something hungry, “I’ve longed to feel your body pressed against mine since I left with Number Two. The divinity of your skin.” He hummed, eyes fluttering shut, “More…more precious than the ore we risk our lives for. Sweeter than fruit. Fresher than a rainstorm.”

“Ez,” you warned, snapping a glare at him.

“Your body…so tender, warm,” he continued, entranced in his own fantasy, not even hearing you when you warned him yet again, “All soft and pliant beneath my touch. It has been far too long since we partook in a pleasure as indulgent as one another—before our partnership with Two, if I can recall. Grant me heaven tonight. I deserve the satisfaction of watching you drip honey for me—”

“Hey! None of that,” you snapped, cocking an eyebrow—and fighting the flutter in your chest and the heat tingling down your core, “There are young ears present, Shakespeare Erotica. Not to mention young eyes.”

You would do no such thing with him as long as this teenager remained in close quarters and under your care. He turned to look at Cee, as if he’d forgotten all about her for a moment. Or maybe it was that he didn’t care. Bastard.

“I’m okay as long as you guys don’t fuck in front of me,” Cee sighed, resigned to have dealt with too much in her past to be worried about flirting—no, verbal-fucking.

“We won’t be doing any of that,” you assured her, giving Ezra another pointed look before slinging his arm around your shoulders and helping him to the cot. He grumbled incoherently, moaning and groaning the few steps it took to ease him down into the squeaky frame.

When you finally got him down—forced him to lay down—he let out another soft whimper of pain, followed by your name. “Don’t go.”

Brushing the hair off his sweaty forehead, you bent down to press a kiss there, “M’right here, Ez. Rest. I’m gonna clean you up, okay?”

It was the least you could do—and that way you could take inventory of every inch of him to ensure he didn’t have any other wounds hiding and festering and threatening his life. Just as this wouldn’t be your first time tending to him while he laid incapacitated, he’d done the same for you plenty of times. There was very little, if anything at all, the two of you hadn’t seen of each other. Vulnerability had another name here: normalcy.

“After—” he rasped up at you, coughing and then righting himself, “After we find our way off this Kevva-damned moon—which we will—I understand if you no longer deem me…worthy of your affections. It’s the only explanation I can find for your denial of my offer to dote on you. I only pray you make good on your long-standing promise to drop me where I stand should I ever disappoint you, dear heart of mine.”

Okay, you didn’t know where all the insecurity and sentiment was coming from, especially hearing it from the mouth of your dear old confident mean-streak Ezra, but he couldn’t possibly be serious. It made you ache to think that he didn’t trust you to stay with him, that he viewed himself as lesser because he lost his arm. Well, he was lesser, but only by mass.

Also, really? The only explanation he could find for you not wanting to sleep with him was that you hated him and didn’t want him because of his injury? He couldn’t think of any more glaringly obvious reasons, those of which had just been pointed out to him?

With a sigh, you brushed your thumb across the silvery scar on his cheek, “Rest now, chatterbox. I’ll be here when you wake up—and every morning after, for as long as I can. Only death could pry you from me, and me from you. You’ve got me, forever….I still see you as you are—a hundred percent you, a hundred percent mine.”

The words felt foreign on your lips, but he was bound to forget them the moment he fell asleep, so you didn’t feel as weird waxing poetic right back at him. The man had rubbed off on you in more ways than one. You normally didn’t speak to one another so frankly—at least, you didn’t, given the nature of what it meant to care out here and how you’d already unofficially established that you two were something more—but tonight you couldn’t fucking help it.

Ezra leaned into your touch, pawing at it with his hand, grabbing onto your fingers and kissing into your palm. A dull smile poked at his mouth and he let it engulf him. “Quite the charmer you are, siren.”

You didn’t respond, only half-smiled and wriggled—reluctantly—from his grasp to grab a few clean cloths and fill a bucket with water. After squirting the sanitizing solution in the water, you simmered the lights down to the lowest setting, to where your eyes had to adjust for a moment before you could make your way across the tent. His gaze bore into you—no, both Ezra and Cee watched every move you made; one in lazy admiration and the other in curiosity.

“Do you need me to put a drape over the post? I’m strippin’ him,” you asked Cee as you slung Ezra’s clean shirt from off the drying line onto your shoulder—you smiled at the floor, thanking yourself from hours ago for deciding not to burn it. You grabbed the bucket and tottered over to him, nodding at him to scoot. He obliged, giving you room to sit by his hip so you could ease his clothes off.

Cee shook her head when you looked to her for a response, opting to sit on your cot facing away from you with her nose in her book, so you shrugged and tugged the fabric off of Ezra in slow, deliberate motions, wincing every time he grunted.

As you took the time to clean off the grime and dirt and sweat of the Green, he told you about running into Cee and her father Damon; how he tried to take his entire harvest from the few cycles he’d spent with Two; about Two’s untimely, irrational outburst that cost them their life. About the Queen’s Lair and the mercs, and the plan to ravage and plunder and take it all for themselves. You thought the Queen’s Lair was a rumor. Not even a rumor—a myth, a legend, something fabricated by desperate fools with hazy minds of dust and their eyes set on fortune. But Ezra told you he’d seen part of it marked on Cee’s map, that her father was contracted to help extract the deposit. Cee even pulled her map out to point to the marked areas, albeit with clinical movements and short words.

So you made a plan to head out at first light, with the trip taking most of the daylight, and they’d be cutting it close but there was no way you’d let Ezra hike so many klicks in his state—not without a few hours’ rest first.

After you’d managed to clean his legs, his hips, his feet and get him into something more comfortable than compression pants, you moved to his torso and traced over each scar marring his skin, each jagged edge where something hadn’t healed right or wasn’t stitched properly. He’d lost some weight under the harsh conditions of the Green—you both had. But he still held onto muscle from the toil that came with survival on such harsh terrain; and he was naturally broad, he always would be, which made him sturdy.

Your fingers ghosted over a few microtattoos he’d gotten; one beneath his ribcage, one on his hipbone, and the one you’d given him yourself on his lower sternum. That one, as you brushed over it with a wet cloth, never failed to make you smile. A sad smile, but a smile nonetheless.

A tiny, unfilled heart, a mere outline, barely a centimeter in size. It was messy, simple, done in minutes. But it meant something, meant exactly what you’d never quite been able to voice.

My heart is yours. Take it.

You’d done it one night when the two of you had gone on a two spin bender, which happened more towards the end of your glory days, when the drugs came easy and heavy and the illusion of time slipped by like sand on the wind.

Any time someone hired your services as cleaners, it took a toll. They didn’t do it often because of that, but the payout was worth the work. No matter how many times you swore you would never do it again, you went back. Because it was hard to ignore the way it felt to flood a deserving someone’s mouth with the taste of their own blood, or to slip a knife in between their ribs and let it slide like butter and watch the light die. It was hard to ignore that you liked it, especially when it was so violent—one of the worst sins to commit, and you enjoyed it.

The act of killing had become cathartic for you. It made you feel more alive, reminded you that you had a beating, bloody heart, and a brain, and veins that pumped blood, and muscles that tore apart and rebuilt themselves stronger. Killing came easy when you didn’t know the target. It felt like a game.

Ezra didn’t enjoy it as much as you did—not to say he didn’t enjoy it at all, for he most certainly did. But he didn’t process it the same way you did. He saw killing as a means to survive and a means to get where he needed to go. He enjoyed turning it into a game, making fun out of whatever circumstance presented itself.

But that one—the last one—it had gone wrong. Messy, slow, noisy, choppy. There was only supposed to be one person in the house: typical target, a man who owed the wrong people a whole lot of money and refused to pay up.

One man.

One man was all you’d expected.

One man was all you’d been instructed would be in the condo.

He went down easy enough, quiet enough—Ezra snuffed him and stuffed him and you’d made to transfer his points into the right pockets.

And that was that.

They had tossed the bodybag over the high-rise balcony and into the pits of the bottomless highway next to the building, with a blinker-bomb inside just in case.

That was that.

Except it wasn’t, it was so fucking far from it.

Ezra, being himself, had wanted so bad to sneak in a quickie before heading back—an unholy, immoral ritual you two had initiated, to fuck where you killed—and who were you to protest? Who were you to say no to pretty words and soft eyes glittering with an untamed wild? To say no to the hands that already ripped at gear and pushed beneath underwear just to get a taste—you couldn’t, it was impossible.

Fresh off a high of adrenaline, pulsing with nervous energy—he was always so good, he always got you right where you needed and then that much further.

And Ezra—being himself—could not keep his fucking mouth shut. The stereotype about men holding in their moans, about them never whimpering or whining or groaning or grunting—yeah, that was a load of Bearkie-shit.

Maybe it held true for some men, but.

Not your Ezra. Not even a little bit.

He talked like heaven’s mouthpiece—or maybe the devil, given all the sinful things he’d whisper to you in the crux of any given night. He let loose whatever noise he deemed necessary to make.

They’d only just made it to the dried, bloody stain on the carpet (a bed on which to copulate), knocking over a floating hilolamp and pulling a chuckle from your paramour, when a shout rang through the apartment and shattered your moment into a thousand pieces.

It was only supposed to be one. One man.

Instead, you were met with another man who you’d later learn to be his brother, the target’s mother, and his pregnant wife.

The man held onto some type of curved sports bat, keeping it up threateningly as if warning you of something imposing. Ezra didn’t hesitate to shoot him in the head, not even bothering to get up from where he’d pressed his hips between your legs. But then you’d had to go and check the other rooms, effectively killing any mood the two of you had shared.

Because fuck, where the men had no fight in them, the women wouldn’t go down without a struggle. Or maybe it was that you pitied them, and it distracted you. They’d already peeked their heads out from behind the door of the master bedroom, worried and doe-eyed and determined.

Maybe if they hadn’t seen your faces—if they’d still been asleep while you swept for warm bodies after the first assailant—maybe they’d have gotten out with their lives. But who were you kidding? You killed without thought. You’d likely have put a pillow over their heads before aiming your thrower and firing twice for good measure, had you been sharp and not distracted by a tongue in your mouth.

Instead, Ezra had the audacity to try to bargain with them. Something about having a soft spot for mothers—his own having been a beacon in his life until she left him orphaned as a young boy. He made it a point not to kill women and children. It was one thing in which he remained unwavering. (He’d kill a grown woman if she gave him reason to, like he had on Exon-5, but that was another story for another time, and a different circumstance which called for such measures, namely that of protecting you.) But he should have known better, he should have known not to try something like that. He should’ve known that he’d have to let go of the final shred of morality he held onto.

So Ezra took down the old woman in a way you still have yet to ask about and don’t care to know; and you’d ended with the pregnant woman choking on her own blood when you twisted your knife into the dip of her throat—and you felt awful about it after watching her crumble beneath you, but she’d hit you upside the head with a thick textbook of outdated skimmer-craft modules and it made you see red among pinpricks of stars.

And that night, after all was said and done they’d spent a fortune on getting high—just to forget, just to be okay.

That night they’d locked themselves in a self-imposed prison of satin sheets and destructive tendencies. Two days buzzing with no food, little water, just him and you and needles and spoons and eyedroppers and blades and pills. Like you couldn’t breathe if he didn’t fill you with all of him, you wouldn’t be able to stand upright if he took his hands off you and stopped letting you flood your veins with a chemical glow. Heavy eyelids, messy sex, raw arms and red eyes.

It felt fucking awful, coping that way, but it felt too fucking good and it made you forget about the lives you’d taken in (somewhat) cold blood.

So after sprawling beside him on the gigantic plush bed with his hand ghosting over your spine, you’d found a part of yourself snagged at the corner of this wild-eyed man’s tar-black soul, and you had thought about what could have happened in an alternate universe.

A moment when he was the target, you were (somehow) the pregnant wife, and you watched him die before succumbing to the dark of your own soul escaping you. And it made you desperate to cling to him as he was in the moment, desperate to know that he was yours and you were his. It was then that you’d asked him if you could mark him. Claim him, to know that he wouldn’t leave you like that, and if he did, he’d have a piece of you everywhere. He’d go down with a piece of you.

Ezra had been delighted, of course, as he was always one for symbolism and deeper meaning even if he didn’t quite understand the rhetoric. And it wasn’t the first time you’d marked each other, just a different time with a different meaning. So he let you dip a sterile needle in ink and plunge it into the tender skin of his chest.

You had one too, a heart on your sternum. Nestled between your breasts, just close enough to your heart to feel like it mattered, like it meant that he felt the same. But you didn’t even let yourself go that far—you two were doped up and delirious and he enjoyed marking you in any way he could, so an opportunity to stick and poke his way further into your skin than he already had was an opportunity he could not pass up. At least, that was how you saw it. Nevertheless, it made you happy to see it there on his chest, and to have one that matched.

Ezra’s soft voice snapped you from the memory.

“What’s crossed your mind to make you so delicate in your touch, so solemn in your stare?”

You realized you had stopped your ministrations and had planted your palm on his chest, staring just over his shoulder and onto the canvas beside him. With a careful hand, you resumed gentle motion over his pecs, up his clavicle, his throat.

“Thinking about Beta-Mobilia,” you whispered, unable to meet his eye, “And after.”

“Mm,” he grunted in recognition, the vibration tickling your fingertips, “Regrettable night. Unavoidable, necessary. But I dwell in shame identical to yours.”

“I don’t deserve to be here after that. I didn’t deserve to live after the Exons, The Grime. Why am I still alive?”

“We’ve discussed this in great length by now, siren. Don’t doubt your existence. It’s beyond sense, beyond comprehension.”

You nodded, still unable to look at him. But then he latched onto your wrist, brushing his calloused thumb over the delicate skin there, and this time you couldn’t keep your gaze away from the soft smile that begged to form on his lips.

“And I appreciate your tender care, wildfire,” he hummed, eyes glittering up at you like two dark pools of amber, “Where would I be without it? Mmm…mhm. Dead, likely. Or bitter. Wicked with taciturn rage. No meaning could come from that.”

“You, bitter and unspeaking? Unthinkable, I’d sooner pronounce you dead,” you drawled, thankful for his kindness to grant distraction, and he granted you an eye-roll. But his expression softened when you sat him upright and maneuvered behind him, wiping down his back in gentle strokes. You folded the cloth over once the side turned brown with grime, and moved up to his neck, scrubbing over his shoulders and giving short strokes down his nape and behind his ears.

“So you planned to go ravage the Queen without me, huh?” you asked quietly, irked that he hadn’t even come to find you before setting out on that venture, “Planned to leave me to rot on the Green, take the money for yourself and steal away with the girl.”

Ezra sighed, and you could see from behind his shoulder how he worked his jaw, formulating what to say.

“Understand that I do nothing without you willingly. Birdie over there’s about as fleeting as a real one. But trust that I planned to come get you—I’d never leave you stranded. I just couldn’t introduce another person into the threadbare alliance I had forged until the time was right.”

“She likes me,” you countered, smiling over at Cee, who now laid with her back facing you as her ribs contracted with the first breaths of sleep. A sign of trust. You didn’t know when exactly you’d earned it, but you’d accept it nonetheless. She had also taken both of your throwers (something you protested and Ezra waved off), so maybe that helped.

“No doubt—there’s plenty to like about you.”

Ever the flatterer, even when delirious with pain.

With a coy smile, you scrubbed over his head and then his face, careful to avoid his snapping mouth that reached out ever so often to nip at your hand—there was that playfulness, the natural effervescence of his presence. When you decided your work was done, you eased him back down on the cot and he allowed it with no protest.

You fluffed his pillow and moved the book you’d stashed beside it. He turned his head and pressed his nose to the pillow, grunting in mild appreciation.

“Smells like you down here,” he remarked with a half-smile, eyes drooping, “You sleep on my cot while I was away?”

“I missed you,” you whispered, nodding, just now aware of how much his presence affected you. To think that you had resolved to try to move on without him—it seemed ridiculous now.

“I missed you,” he returned, “You haven’t the slightest idea how much I wanted you beside me. Number Two was a fond ally but not a companion. Nothing like the banter we exchange, nor the secrets we share.”

“They never talked. I imagine your time away was just as lonely as mine.”

“Absolutely. I regret agreeing to leave with Two. But you know we couldn’t have trusted them to stay at camp while we went off—not absolutely. Not when they’d never spoken a word,” he chuckled and then coughed, a quiet rumble you felt against your leg as it zigzagged through his chest.

Thank Kevva you had a plan to leave now. The spent filter had taken a toll on Ezra—and it wasn’t even his to begin with. He insisted on giving you his when the one your new suit came with was almost completely used up.

Fuck the man for caring about you; he’d gone soft during your time on the Green, and you hated how much you loved it. Hated it because he needed to focus on himself, needed to stop putting you before him. Hated it because every day it made you feel like somehow, he loved you back. That somehow, he thought of you as more than just a constant in his life, more than a body to fuck and a brain to pick.

You’d grown used to each other. But his unpredictability oozed into every aspect of himself, every nook and cranny of his life, and you were too worried about fucking up a good thing over a simple conversation. All it took was one sensitive topic breached and you’d surely find yourself shit out of luck. He was all you had left of the scraps of a fucked up life. Without him, you’d make do but not without a struggle and not without reluctance. Some part of you knew he’d be the same even if he initiated a split.

The thought had you hurrying to tug his shirt on before gathering the cloths and scurrying to place the bucket near the front of the tent.

And you shouldn’t have been so scared to be honest with him—the two of you rarely kept things to yourselves. But to love someone so fully within your heart, to never want to be away from them, to never grow tired of their presence no matter how tedious they may be or frustrating they could get, it scared you.

“A kiss for the wounded?” Ezra asked, brown eyes wide and mouth pouty enough to break you from your racing mind. You softened then, padding back over to him on tiptoe and settling back at his side for a brief moment.

With a gentle smile, you leaned down to grant him a kiss to his lips—the first one you’d shared with him in fuck knows how long. Too long, that was for sure, because when your lips notched with his chapped ones you melted, every worry and every qualm simply washed away in a swirl of pink pleasure.

You couldn’t help yourself—an indulgent, quiet moan pooled in your chest and slipped from your throat before you could stop it, and he hummed right back when his tongue pushed between your lips and you let him devour you. Always the ravager, ever a greedy bastard when it came to his pleasure, he licked up into your mouth and tangled his tongue with yours. It took very little for you to melt right into his chest, pressing your own against him and whimpering when he sneaked his hand up the hem of your shirt to rub circles over the skin of your back. You remained sloppy and almost lazy but intentional as you held either side of his nape and toyed with the strands of his still-damp hair, pouring yourself into this kiss like you’d never kiss him again.

Fuck. Fuck, you wanted him so bad. You missed this man with every vibrating inch of you. You missed his body, you missed his voice calling to you from the very depths of himself, you missed everything about him, and you needed him as close as possible. Closer than close, you needed him.

But fuck. You couldn’t. When you pulled back for air, it didn’t surprise you when he pressed his palm flat on your back to keep you from moving too far.

“Mm, baby—you’re divine. I ache for you,” he all but whimpered into your mouth, breath brutally hot and heavy as he fed you his soul, “Come sit down on me—come take what’s yours. I want to feel you strangle me, show me just how much you—”

“No, Ez,” you cut him off in a biting whisper, lips kiss-swollen, hating how, if there had been literally any other person in the tent beside you, you might’ve taken him up on the offer, “I want to, I promise you that. But she’s a kid and I have limits—one of those limits is fucking in the same room as one.” You glared at him with half a heart, then leaned down to run the tip of your nose along the curve of his ear, smiling when he shivered, “I swear, once we get out of here I’ll make it up to you so many times you’ll forget your own name. You get first choice—however you want me, I’m yours to take.”

“Fuck—alright, I apologize for my eagerness,” he smiled, tilting his head to kiss your forehead.

“But,” you whispered, your heart racing as you glanced over to be sure Cee had fallen asleep before inching up to look back into his eyes. Fuck it, he deserved it. “If you stay quiet, I’ll take care of you right now.”

His eyebrows raised in deft interest at your offer.

“Will you let me take care of you, Sailor?”

Ezra would never admit it, and you’d never tease him about it because it made you feel some kind of way—but he fucking adored when you used his callsign. You were his siren, after all. Only made sense for him to draw to you like a dying man at sea when you called for him. You used it rarely aside from in the field, opting for your preferred chatterbox—because he was more that than anything else—so it came as a treat when you decided to pull it from your bag of tricks.

“I can hardly refuse such a tempting offer.”

“Quiet, though,” you reminded him, tiptoeing your fingers across his chest and tugging the waistband of his pants and his underwear down. Just enough to spring his cock free, which was already hard and leaking for you.

Fuck, he was such a gorgeous sight, and you couldn’t help the urge to cup his balls and nudge them free too, to admire every glorious inch of him.

Spreading your fingers out over his groin through the coarse curls gone wild with mistreatment, you paid extra attention to the white patch of hair ghosting over the base of his cock and spreading out near his abdomen before stopping abruptly on the left and diverging back down into dark brown. You remember when you’d first noticed it and had all but squealed in delight.

Every bit of him was a pleasant surprise, just as you’d found yourself more than eager to let him ruin you for anybody else with the sheer size of him.

Nobody fucked you like they were dying and you were salvation; nobody but him. And shit, did he tear you open. As if he’d carved a space inside of you just for him, each time he’d leave you with a hollow ache that only he could sate.

“Baby,” you purred in a whisper, kissing his hipbone and then leaning up to wrap your hand around the girth of him, rubbing your thumb over the weeping red of the head, “You’re so pretty for me like this.” Forever a glutton for compliments, he whimpered his soft appreciation and you hushed him accordingly. He was so thick, so big that you struggled to touch the tip of your middle finger to your thumb, so long that if you had planned to swallow him down tonight, you would’ve been needing your hand to help. But tonight you could not risk the absolutely filthy noise of you gagging on him; he’d likely cum faster and in less time to worry about waking up a certain tentmate, but you wanted to watch every muscle in his face twitch, wanted to see him take his pleasure unobstructed by your tears. This way was quieter.

So with that thought in mind, you shifted to straddle one of his thighs so you could watch him without tiring your hand in an awkward position. Then you let a string of spit drool down and over him and you gave him a twist and then more, sharp and sudden and fast in your movements as opposed to the slow, appreciative way you’d unsheathed him.

Ezra hissed out a curse, bucking up into your hand, “Shit, darlin’—“

Arching an eyebrow, you halted your work on him immediately. His pulse beat through the throbbing vein jutting out

“What did I tell you?” you snapped. With your free hand you reached up and wrapped your fingers around his neck, feeling the column of his throat contracting as he swallowed. Wide brown eyes looked up at you, a tinge of amusement in their stare.

“Are you gonna be good for me?” you asked in a low rasp, tightening your grip on his neck and giving him a little shake before going slack again, “I don’t wanna hear a single word come outta that pretty-boy mouth. If I do, I’m blue-balling you. Fair?”

Ezra nodded, his gorgeous fat mouth blessedly shut for once.

“Good boy,” you cooed, kissing him before forcing his jaw open and spitting in his mouth. It would’ve been cruel but you meant it so affectionately, and his gentle moan told you he was more than willing to accept it.

You felt his cock twitch beneath your fingers and you simpered, giving a little shimmy of your shoulders in appreciation.

Controlling this stubborn man, resorting him to silence made you feel powerful. It made you feel respected, worshipped; if the man who never shut up and always called the shots would gladly take the backseat and grant you the power to take charge, that meant more than you could wish for.

So you resumed pumping his cock, working him with both hands and then switching to hold onto his throat again before going back to two hands. The act still made quite some noise—filthy and wet and sloppy—but at this point you were less concerned about it than you had been prior. When you decided, despite his tip dripping precum, to spit down onto him again for the fun of it and twist him with a gentle tug, he couldn’t stop the whine that left him even with his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. It had you darting to clamp over his mouth, shooting daggers down at him as he stared up with a silent apology in his eyes, one you might have taken as genuine if not for the way the brown of his irises had disappeared into black, blown out with lust and glassy with pleasure.

“If you’re gonna cum, let me know so you can do it in my mouth. I just cleaned you up and I’m not doing it again.”

The last bit came out harsher than you meant but he took it all the same, biting back a grunt in the form of a sharp exhale as he twitched violently in your hand. Yeah, he didn’t really need to let you know when he was about to blow; you knew him too well. At that, you took it upon yourself to remove your hand from his mouth in favor of scooting to lean down and put your mouth over his angry, swollen tip, flinching at the way the frame creaked but ignoring it and opting to swirl your tongue over him instead.

“There it is,” you whispered with an arguably evil smile—quickly, before pulling him back into the heat of your mouth, resuming your work and grunting when he bucked up into your mouth, chasing the high you were drawing out of him.

Ezra came with a muffled, broken sob, his face buried in his arm as he bit down on his bicep, flexing and squeezing his fingers. A thick stream of his cum hit the roof of your mouth and you indulged him, taking him in further so you could swallow everything he gave you. Ropes and ropes and ropes of cum, like he hadn’t let himself get off in so long, like he’d been saving all of it for you. The thought made you whine around him, and you pulled off when he finished, flashing him your dripping tongue with his spend still on it and drawing it back in before any of it could spill.

“Holy fuck, baby,” he sighed, letting out a quiet, breathy laugh as he tugged on the front of your shirt to kiss you, tasting himself on your tongue.

This time when you pulled back and smiled, you granted him a toothy grin, goofy and knowing. It took you a minute not to giggle like a little kid as you carded your fingers through his hair. He grinned right back, still catching his breath. To you, he was gorgeous, inside and out, flaws and all. You wanted to fuck him right then. You wanted to make love to him, to let him fill you entirely and to sob into his mouth, showing him everything you couldn’t tell him.

“Get some sleep,” you settled on instead, slipping off the cot with little grace after replacing the waistband of his pants, “We head out early tomorrow.”

“Hey now, what about you?” Ezra asked, brows drawn together in concern that you wouldn’t find the same enjoyment he did.

“You’ll just owe me.” You winked then, and gave him one last kiss, which he hummed into with a great appreciative rumble.

Then you pressed your forehead into his, “Mine—you’re mine. Never leave me again or I’ll hunt you down and kill you myself. You’re everything.”

Because he was.

“Nothing without you.”

That was his response, always always always. To hear it again pricked tears in your eyes, so much so you squeezed them shut.

And once again, you caught yourself wanting to say it. This time it had ghosted in your throat, almost making it into the curve of your mouth for you to hold its shape and give voice to a thought. But you stopped it before it could get far. Those three words, the same ones that now haunted you since you’d decided to indulge in every reminiscence involving them. Somehow he had come back to you, a feat which could not be commended enough, but now you ached for him—yearned for him even stronger than if he had well and truly died.

As you settled down onto the floor beside him, those three torturous words surfaced into a memory. The one that, among other fears, made you ever so hesitant to admit just how much you loved him.

————————————

“—In that vein, I don’t find myself in particular need of a great, star-shattering love story. If love is all-encompassing, I can do without the obstacle. Romanticizing my life and its quarrels is satisfaction enough.”

You didn’t know why you were still listening. You just knew that if Ezra kept it up, you’d find a way out of this cell just to break into his and strangle him. Anything to get him to shut the hell up. Banging your head methodically against the wall that separated the two of you, you didn’t even try to hold back your groan of displeasure as he rambled on.

“Now, don’t doubt my skill in worship. I have plenty of practice in the art of copulation”—you could hear the shit-eating grin on his face—“To say I haven’t affixed my interests on one soul or another at some point in time would ordain me a liar. I simply prefer to remain lovers in action…and not in name nor feeling. Companionship…yes, it’s something we all yearn for. It can’t be helped. A warm body, a brain to pick. All wonderful facets to enjoy for the sake of one’s own baser desiderata. But—“

“Shut up,” you bit out through gritted teeth, tugging at the roots of your hair when he kept going and you had to repeat yourself, “Shut up, you goddamned chatterbox. I don’t give a fuck about your love life. Why are you even talking about this?”

A brief silence occupied the space, as if he was thoroughly perplexed by your outburst. Then he let out a huffed laugh, amused.

“You inquired about the specifics of my occupation, little thorn.”

Every time he used that nickname for you—the thorn in my side—it made you bristle. Especially when he used it almost affectionately, soothingly, full of calm and charm that had you balling your fists and pricking the skin of your palms with your fingernails. You despised him, and he treated your existence as a joke, or as a little pet he would grab from its cage and admire before tossing it back and neglecting it until he deemed its presence acceptable again. Everything was funny. Everything could be laughed at. Sometimes you didn’t mind when the guards came to beat him bloody; it made him shut up, whether from pain or because he had passed out.

“Prospecting has nothing to do with love,” you snapped, shoulders tense despite the ache in your body. If these fuckers holding you captive didn’t kill you, the stress of surviving next to this fucker surely would.

“No, it doesn’t,” he agreed, suddenly serious, “Love for others, at least. Love for the dig, love for the hunt and the adventure—that’s a different narrative altogether. Which is why I deemed it appropriate to explain such measures. The lifestyle I settled for is no small undertaking. It comes with sacrifice.”

His condescension was unintentional but still stabbed and poked at you like keepers at a circus.

————————————

It comes with sacrifice. That it did.

That long-ago night haunted you to this day.

But Ezra had his mind focused on softer dreams as he broke you from your self-destruction once more.

“Nights like these make me keen to hear you sing for me again,” he lilted out through the dark, a reminiscent simper pulling at his mouth and crinkling his eyes as he shifted to look down at you, “The melody of your voice haunts the halls of my midnight reveries. But it is such a sweet possession—as though I willed a ghost to enchant me with her gift. A siren indeed. Lure me into the sea of your deception, try to pull me under like the rest of them. But not me. No…not me—I float like driftwood in the breeze…follow the tides of your affection. Somehow I remain unscathed, and you lap at me in gentle waves.”

“Such powerful words from a man who should be asleep,” you chuckled quietly, pressing your lips to the back of his hand where you held onto it now, fingers laced.

“I am but a vendor of poetry. And you, a weaver of melody. Sing for me, siren,” he murmured, his voice thick with the drowsy pull of lassitude. He hadn’t asked that of you in so long you had almost forgotten what it felt like to hear it. Almost. And you would have agreed to it, but—

“No, the girl, she—“

“I don’t mind,” Cee interrupted, quiet and soft. It surprised you; you thought she had fallen asleep—you didn’t want to wake her with your singing. And then you were—

Shit. You sincerely hoped she had just woken up due to Ezra’s long-winded soliloquy about your singing, and hadn’t heard anything else beyond that. Mm, no. You think she would’ve said something about how fucking gross it was. Or pulled a thrower on you.

“As well you shouldn’t,” Ezra chuckled, turning his head to grin at the girl where she had turned to face him on the opposite cot, “She sings like Kevva strung her throat with gold. Or the very strings of a harp.”

You blushed and ducked your head into your shoulder, embarrassed by his flattery. Looked to him and found his honey-dark eyes drinking you in from above, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he flattened his palm over your chest and rubbed it affectionately. “What would you like to hear?” you asked, running a hand over your hair and shifting on the floor to calm your nerves.

It was just Ez.

…and a girl who harbored a teen angst bigger than ten moons; fuck if you wanted her to judge you.

“Whatever tickles your fancy,” he replied, his grin wider now that you’d agreed, “You know I’m not particular to any one hymn—I find myself enraptured by it all.”

“Okay.” You pondered for a moment before settling on one of your favorites.

Then you sang.

Quietly, nervously at first in an unpracticed rasp, then growing more steady and mellow and soft.

Some swirling folk melody from your childhood in your native tongue, one you’d never forget even if someday you lost your memory. A lullaby for village children; a lilting work song for the women to hum when laundering clothes at the stream, soothing the babies strapped to their backs or their chests or both.

It told the story of a curious young girl who loved the stillness of the ocean, found peace in its silky depths. She liked the silence so much that she would spend hours beneath the water, training to hold her breath and exploring the creatures of the reef and listening to the wavering silence.

Until one humming summer night she swam so deep the water turned black. She was scared she wouldn’t be able find her way back home but she reveled in the quiet—the quiet that not even the nighttime forest could provide, nor the village when the hunters and scavengers left for work. It was then that she saw a light shining from the deep, and decided to chase it.

Down, down, down.

And down. Until the light became so bright it surrounded her, seeped into her until she did not know where she began and it ended. No pain, no fear surrounded her. Just a sense of calm, and peace.

And she became the moon, the biggest one in the sky. The silence up there was incomparable.

The song was meant as a warning to the village children not to wander too far from the town and somehow find themselves in the cove breaching the outer mountain range. A warning to stay away, else you’d become one of the many moons in the sky, never to return to your family and the life you loved.

But you’d always found it more compelling than that, more meaningful, because the story originated from a similar legend of the moon goddess your village worshipped, the deity of the biggest satellite in your skies. The minor difference came in the detail that she chose to become the Great Moon after divine conversation instead of chasing a light down into the deep on a whim. And there was a ceremony held to initiate her transition into a celestial body.

When you’d wrapped up the lullaby you found yourself more at peace than you’d felt in a long time. You didn’t like to think about your planet, nor your village, nor the tragedies that occurred there. But this memory was a happy one, filled with sleepy eyes and chubby fingers grabbing onto mothers’ cloaks, and getting tucked into warm soft blankets by a fireplace.

“Sweet siren,” Ezra whispered in a drowsy slur, giving your hand a gentle squeeze as he turned to rest on his back, “Never fail to soothe me even when ’m in utmost anguish.”

And with that, he left you in silence, and you knew he wasn’t far from sleep.

By the time his breath evened out, you felt your eyes drooping.

Fuck, you were exhausted.

This spin had been arguably more eventful than any you’d had in a long while, and it didn’t occur to you that you could be tired when you’d hardly done much until the action rolled in.

The floor was actually not half bad, given that you laid on the tarp that absorbed heat but quickly cooled when you moved. The nights here got cold, surprisingly. But Ezra’s hand hanging down and resting across your chest felt so good. The weight of him, the heat of him, it grounded you. You circled patterns into his upturned palm until you became too sleepy for that, settling on threading your fingers with his and feeling his pulse beneath your fingertips.

How dare he think you’d care for him less with only one arm? If anything, it showed his perseverance, his will to move forward and make hard decisions. Only something a man with determination could do.

He felt so warm and sure—steady. He was safe now that he had come back. You felt the inky black of sleep begin to wash over you as organized thought became jumbled feeling.

You didn’t have to worry anymore, not about his whereabouts. Everything was alright. It was as good as it had been in quite a while.

Everything would be alright, you could just…

Just…

“I wish my parents had loved each other like that,” Cee murmured in the quiet dark of the tent, rendering you wide awake with a jolt, as if someone had plunged a shot of adrenaline into your chest.

“They separate?” you managed, knowing it came out strange but not wanting to confirm or deny anything about you and Ezra. The silence that greeted you implied that she had had no intention of you hearing it. But she spoke regardless.

“No,” she scoffed, then went quiet for a moment, “My mom died when I was little. And I can’t remember what they were like together. We were always working so there wasn’t a lot of time for love between them.”

Oh. An orphan. It softened you a little more for her, made you more sympathetic to the fact that Ezra had killed her last living parent. You were an orphan too. So was he.

“We’re all missing parts of our family in some way or another. People with worldly attachments don’t usually sign up for this level of intensity. Not the strays, anyhow.”

“But you have each other,” she insisted.

“By chance alone. We didn’t start off liking each other. And we’re not…married, or anything.”

The last bit came out strangled—you’d never…said something like that aloud.

You and Ezra, married? It was odd, to say the least. You never thought of yourself as one to desire marriage in any respect—ceremonial, legal, the like. It just didn’t sit well with you. Too many complications, a lot of governing body involvement that you didn’t care for.

And Ezra…he wasn’t too fond of it either. But not because he didn’t want it, that much he’d admitted to you one night after admitting the complications of his feelings on his love life, ones that somewhat contradicted the first time he told you about it all; he couldn’t have it, he’d never let himself believe even a fraction of him deserved it. The life of a floater—and sure, just as Cee’s parents had prospected and been married (you assumed) and had a kid, many others did the same. But then you supposed it ended with kids like Cee, and she was lucky to not lay dead next to her idiot father, or trapped and sold as a body in the Dark-Spawn Trades. Lucky Ezra wasn’t filthy and depraved, lucky you were once young and scared like her and so took it upon yourself to keep her in your sights for now.

“How’d you meet?”

A chuckle bubbled out of you as you sat up and ran your fingers through Ezra’s hair, watching his chest rise and fall in even strokes, thinking back on that night so long ago.

“Stealing supplies from the same drop company. Two feral dogs fighting over who deserved it more. We bickered and threatened so much we lost track of time and made a mess and a ruckus and got caught.” A smile threatened to break your features and you let it, for just a moment. It faded as you recalled your awful encounter, “Captured, tortured for information because they thought we worked for a rival mining company. They wanted the locations of dig-sites we didn’t have, mining techniques we didn’t know. When he brought up the Wastes earlier…that’s what he meant. Surprised we didn’t die, but they really thought we were valuable or something.”

You gave yourself a minute before continuing. In a panic, you rubbed circles over the tattoo on the web of Ezra’s hand between his thumb and forefinger, trying to ground yourself as wicked, blood-specked memories flooded your head.

Deep breath. You’re safe, he’s here. This will be good to get off your chest. You’ve never spelled it out to anyone before. Nobody’s ever asked. Maybe this girl is a gift from the universe, maybe she was sent here to give you space to heal. Deep breath. You’re safe. He’s here.

You eventually pressed the back of his limp hand to your cheek, and found your voice once more. You didn’t need to worry about waking him; once he conked out into REM sleep it took a freight train to wake him up. At least, when he was with you he always slept deeper. He’d told you one night; how it helped to have you there, like you dragged all the bad memories and nightmares away, pulling them so far out of reach he only found thoughtless, worry-free sleep.

“Hearing someone’s screams from the other side of a cell wall makes you more susceptible to care about them. A bonding experience, so to speak. He’d talk to me for hours on the nights they made us sit and anticipate another session. Recited poetry, recalled stories from his time as a prospector as an escape from our reality. I would sing for him, when we knew the guards had left. It was how we got to know each other. It’s—that’s why he calls me his siren. The reason I call him a chatterbox, among other obvious explanation.”

“How’d you get out?” Cee asked, resting her cheek on her hands as she laid on her side, watching you with keen interest.

“Killed them,” you rasped, not wanting to go into the gory details, “Every single one.”

For nights you had laid awake, haunted by memories of blood staining your only pair of clothes, blood splattering into your mouth, chunks of brain matter on Ezra’s gloves as he dragged you through a maze of tents and established buildings, viscera on your recovered suit, the way you’d had to swallow bile back down your esophagus at the sight of all the lives you’d taken. But you had to do it; it’s what you told yourself when the images would replay every time you closed your eyes.

Vengeance, necessity, paired with Ezra’s seemingly insatiable bloodlust—and your own. Your own shameful desire to incite violence, one you bred in the early years of your youth and had stuffed away until needed.

But you hadn’t been able to deny that, when Ezra shot a man who’d pinned you to the ground and then finished him off with a knife spurting blood out his neck, it stirred your blood something wild. Hearing him panting through the transmitter, grunts and curses as he tore through humans and humanoids and alien creatures alike right beside you. Hearing him call out targets, watching your six, taking single-word direction from you when you did the same.

They worked like a well-oiled machine, like you two had never not known the other. And he was sloppy in his technique, grounded more in brute force than strategy—but you made up for that in quick, evasive maneuvers and stealth. Both of you had near-perfect aim and could work around the clunky gear of your suits.

Messy—pools of blood, the sickening crunch of bone and cartilage crushed beneath your hands and your feet and your knife and whatever other weapon you scavenged along the way.

It felt like a ritual. A baptism of carnage that ensured neither one of you could live without the other.

So of course, when it all was over and the last vertebra snapped—

—there had been filthy, unhinged, surely unsanitary, bio-hazardous fucking in a tent surrounded by carnage.

Fucking in way you could only describe as feral.

Unrestrained.

Hot, Kevva’s saints was it brutally hot and so needy—but also so, so tender.

Full of soft emotion. Unspoken, even for Ezra’s standards. Almost loving.

Your aching bodies, exhausted and weak and battered, dragged lazily against one another once both of you had ceased the initial writhing pace of passion and the adrenaline ebbed. It tasted tinny like blood and musky like spit and salty with sweat and tears, and if nothing more, it was real. Whispering about how fuck, they’d made it and god, they were on the same level, we made it, baby—can’t live without you, I need you I need you I need you—

That day was quite possibly your favorite memory as well as one of your darkest. The day that you knew, in the charred, most twisted part of you, that you’d follow this man to the ends of every planet, to the far reaches of the universe—and he’d very well do the same.

Of course, you shared none of that with Cee.

“We took down the main base of the entire company. They were small but well-endowed. Got to transfer points into our accounts and sort through the mining equipment and the food,” you offered instead after a long bout of silence, “And the spoils of their labor. We were rich, could have retired early.”

“Why didn’t you?”

You debated whether to lie or tell her the truth, deciding on the latter. This girl wasn’t a threat, she genuinely wanted to know. “Ezra and I have—had a certain…interest in finding thrill wherever we can.”

Cee quirked an eyebrow, and you elaborated, “It’s not something to romanticize, we certainly weren’t smart about our spending. Gambling, drugs, slingshot scooter racing, smuggled creature ring-fights. The risk makes winning worth it. It was addicting. We earned a lot. Uncountable amounts of money. But we spent it all and then spent more. Pulled stunts that not even the most daring would try. Heists, intel-theft for enemies of certain people. We got caught up in it. Eventually drowned in a swamp of debt and unrequited favors. Got put on watchlists by the head crime syndicate and peace officers alike in the Core Worlds because we got cocky. Sloppy. So many people want our heads on a stake that we’d be better off dying out here. It’d be ironic, given the executions we deserve.”

You shuddered at the thought of Karolclan and their unusual procedures for punishment. They wanted you the most—you owed them the most. Them and Omni-Five. But Karolclan was decidedly worse.

“Why are you still mining? Wouldn’t it be easier to hide somewhere less dangerous?”

“We have debts to pay, bird,” you sighed, fond of the nickname Ezra gave her as it fit her well, “It’s the only honest work we can get without a biotracker recognizing our scans or someone realizing that the burner names and scouting codes we give them are bullshit. We work alone—no drop company, no mining corps. Until we can get our names cleared and our bio-scans off the watchlist, we can’t do shit else.”

If nothing more, Karolclan did allow debt payoff. But only if you could evade their capture, and only if you had the means to satisfy compounded interest. They were brutal, ruthless.

“He said you had a crew…and a ship…before you ended up stranded.”

“We did. A group of people like us. But you can imagine that a group of outlaws don’t always see eye to eye—buncha hotheaded criminals. Fought over aurelac, argued over fair shares, resources, everything.”

That wasn’t the whole story.

It started as a dispute over aurelac, but had quickly turned into a spat against Ezra, why he had so many successful harvests and surely he was stealing or cheating, how it wasn’t fair that you two were attached at the hip and didn’t section off when you split into groups to cover more land. In the heat of argument and the desperation of man, that had morphed into threats against you—Why don’t you fucking share her, Ezra? We all have needs and she’s barely good at the dig-sites. Put her to use somewhere else or we’ll find a use for her, and that devolved into Might take her right from under you if you don’t watch yourself, don’t be surprised if you hear her struggle tonight.

You had gotten used to the crude commentary, the snickers and wolf-whistles when you bent over, and if they had tried to somehow steal you away in the night, they’d have been reminded that you slept fully armed and showed no mercy to anyone who touched you unless they knew just where to start—and only one person did.

But that…that had not gone over well with him. It ended before you even knew what he did, and pretty soon you had a dead crewmate spilling blood over your boots while the familiar sound of throwers charging up rang in your ears, all of them pointed at the man panting beside you. The only one from the group to live and remain on the Green had been Two, and honestly you were never fond of them but weren’t surprised when they helped you and Ezra take the heat off your backs—they always teamed up with you two and they were good at what they did. It was a shame they were gone—despite their silence and threatening demeanor and sometimes uncalculated moves in a plan, they never made a move to harm either of you; they just wanted to harvest and get out like you did. Better them than Ezra, though. You’d have genuinely lost your mind if they had shown up in his stead.

“Did you kill the crew too?”

“Only a few,” you said honestly, “The others left us stranded when they realized we’d kill them next. Number Two was our only ally. Now they’re dead.”

You laid back down and put Ezra’s hand across your chest again, “Get some rest now. We’ve got a long day ahead of us. And if you choose to kill him while we sleep—kill both of us.”

You didn’t know why you’d felt compelled to say that, but revealing such a dark part of yourself to her convinced you that she’d plant a bolt in you or Ezra’s head and run. Ezra was the more likely target, given his history with the girl. It was irrational, for the most part; if she truly wanted him dead she would have let his wound kill him. Or she would have shot him sooner. But you couldn’t be too sure.

And you’d sooner die than wake up to him cold next to you.

#ezra (prospect)#ezra x reader #ezra x f!reader #ezra (prospect) x reader #anya writes #ohhhh boy! a second installment #pedrostories #ezra smut #cacoethes

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moriarty-bibliotheca · 3 years

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—❦ ❝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞❞ ✉

— 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 ✉

𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏 𝒔𝒂𝒚𝒔: good morning, sweetheart. i really love your writings, it's rare to found a writer who writes for moriarty the patriot x reader and i'm glad i found your blog. also, can i request a william scenarios? s/o try to convinces him to not forcing himself for stays awake on sleepless night thinking abt the plans, and they ended up deeptalking in each other's arm, in bed? soft william please! thankyou so much before ^^

❝ 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 ❞

— 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗻𝗲𝘂𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗹! 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

— 𝗺𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗿𝘀!

— 𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗮𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱!

☎ 𝒃𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒚'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: why hello, darling! i’m randomly wriitng this at midnight so i’m sorry if it seems off <3 but, good morning! why thank you, that was so nice of you, i hope you’ll enjoy this! go ahead and check the story out <3 thank you for your visit, come back again!

‘What is that noise?’ You thought as you awoke from your slumber and sat up from your bed, it was around midnight and you wondered who would be awake at such an hour. Your eyes landed on a tall figure seated by the window, scribbling away about who-knows-what, you let out a sigh as you softly spoke his name, “Liam?”

His scribbling stopped and he turned to face you, he smiled gently as he stood up from his seat and walked towards you. “I’m sorry, dear, did I wake you?” asked the male as he brushed his hand against your cheek. “Yes, but that doesn’t matter,” you held his hand as you looked at him.

“Why are you still awake?” Your question seemed to make the man freeze for a bit because looking back at his desk, before he could start explaining, you immediately spoke, “are you busy planning your next move?”

“You know I have to do this, dear,” spoke William softly as he sat beside you, you let out a sigh before laying down and pulling him under the sheets. You gave him a tight embrace before letting out another soft sigh.

“You have to rest,” you spoke as you hugged him closer. His scent held a familiar feeling of home, being in his arms brought a sense of comfort and with him rarely sleeping nowadays meant it has been a while since you cuddled with him.

“I am not finished yet-,” said William because you placed a finger by his lips to silence him, he let out a sigh before wrapping his arms around you. “Look, I know you’re an intelligent, young man with a vision to change this country for good. You have people around you with the same views and they are willing to work for you even if it would cost them their lives,” you voiced out your inner thoughts as you sat up and held his hand, you looked at his ruby eyes and continued.

“But, that doesn’t mean you have to spend restless nights thinking and plotting for your next move. Isn’t it better to work when you get better rest? Please, don’t neglect your health like that.” He stayed silent for a bit before looking back at the desk - a bunch of papers were scattered across the flat surface; a few books were left wide open, the pages had a few scribbles of lines and circles; and a large copy of the country’s map was placed under all those stationery.

“I know that, but we can’t just relax and do nothing for a while. What if we let our guard down one day and somebody were to find out about this? Everything that my brothers and I have been planning, then it wouldn’t go according to plan and it would put all of your safety at risk,” replied the male.

“Including you,” whispered William as he looked at you, his eyes held worry and the tone of his voice sounded heartbreaking, “I can’t let you be in danger because of me, because of this. I want you to be in the new world with Louis once I’m gone.”

“Once I’m gone...” His words pierced your heart harshly, like it was stabbed by a dagger again and again. You were not involved in their plans as a skilled assassin like Sebastian or a martial artist like Fred, nor were you taking up another identity like James. You had no contribution to them, even Louis felt the same thing as you, but even he went on a mission with William while you haven’t.

You did not know what to reply, you tried not to let the tears well up in your eyes as you thought about your potential future - old and unmarried. You would be lying if you said it did not affect you as much, it hurt and you felt like there was nothing you could do to change his mind.

William seemed to notice your silence, your glistening tears threatening to fall down your cheeks weren’t unnoticed either. He knew what he said bothered you and immediately regretted saying it, he cupped your cheeks as he hugged you close. “I’m sorry,” whispered the male, “I did not mean to make you cry.”

“I’m not crying,” you denied as you sniffled and moved away from his embrace, you quickly wiped your tears and let out a sigh, “please just rest, I would rather see you energized and healthy while you do your thing than seeing you all frail and tired.”

You laid back on the soft mattress and looked up at the apex of your shared canopy bed, the shifting of the blanket can be heard as William laid beside you and wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m sorry,” whispered the male once more as he caressed your hair. “Silence,” you ordered softly as you scooted closer to him and hugged him closely, “just hug me and take a rest.”

“Let’s at least enjoy this moment of us together,” you softly told him, “there surely wouldn’t be more of this in the future...” Silence took over your bedroom as he protectively embraced you. Soon enough, drowsiness took over both of your states and immediately fell asleep in each other’s arms - you will always remember and miss his touch in the near future.

☎ 𝒃𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒚'𝒔 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆: wait no i teared up a bit while writing the ending- anyway, hope you enjoyed, darling! stay safe! requests are currently closed for now, i’m sorry for not posting as much! i’ve been struggling with my motivation to continue writing, but i’m back now <3 come back soon, love!

#william james moriarty #william james moriarty x reader #william moriarty #Moriarty #moriarty x reader #moriarty the patriot #憂国のモリアーティ #moriarty the patriot x reader #MTP #mtp x reader #ynm #ynm x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #moriarty bibliotheca

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ladyeliot · 3 years

Photo

Dance with me

Request: Anonymous: Hi saw your post for the Valentine’s Day request and that’s really cause that’s my birthday too so yay 😀 anyway how abt a tony x reader exes angstfluff thanks

Pairing: Tony Stark x Fem!Reader

Summary: As is customary on Valentine's Day, a charity gala is held by your company to raise funds, but this year you'll have to face it alone - your ex-boyfriend won't be with you, or maybe he will?

Warnings: Angst and a bit fluff.

Word count: 2712

A/N: Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Valentine’s Day (Prompts)

Your company's annual fundraising party couldn't be more ill-timed. You still didn't understand why it had to be held on 14 February, well you had a pretty good idea. Year after year the upper echelons of New York City and its environs gathered together, more than for a charitable cause, to find the next gossip that would be the most talked about for months to come.

In years past, the only thing that had saved you from the suffering and discomfort you felt every time you walked through the door was your companion, your partner, but that year you had to face all those vipers on your own. The relationship with Tony Stark had come to an end after four years, more than mutually, you took a big part in that decision. Things were becoming difficult for you, it was hard to overcome all the events he was involved in day by day, as well as his constant attempts to save himself from death. You couldn't cope.

It was arguably the most complicated decision you had ever made in your life, there was a long and complex history, your relationship was by no means simple, nor was it easy to begin with, so obviously it wasn't easy to end. You had to endure news that reported Iron Man's disappearance, that he was badly injured and some had even given him up for dead, then everything was solved, but you didn't want to see the day when he really was, you couldn't bear it. It wasn't easy for him either, he was afraid that his actions would put you in danger, so he understood what you were telling him, he accepted your decision and accepted it in the end. You also accepted his decision to go on with his life as a superhero, you could never ask him to do otherwise.

The Frick Collection art museum on Manhattan's Upper East Side was the selected venue for the charity event. It had been ranked for two consecutive years as "one of the most memorable parties of the year" by the New York Times, but your viewpoint was far from those words. Unlike the vast majority of those present you made a rather discreet entrance, you had made the decision to stay calm and leave as soon as possible, so you would have a few drinks, chat with the guests and put the day behind you as soon as possible. After all, it was your duty to get your company's guests to donate as much money as possible to charity.

You could not deny that the atmosphere was not pleasant, visually you found yourself enveloped by numerous pieces of art accompanied by the sweet melody of an orchestra that filled the atmosphere. The architectural elements of the place also generated an escape from the outside world. Generally the conversations were banal, related to work, art, politics or social life, nothing you couldn't cope with, plus the glass of champagne you were holding in your right hand helped with that.

The problem came when they began to notice that you were not accompanied by Mr. Stark on this occasion. Time after time it was your turn to report that the two of you had decided to go your separate ways, and time after time you had to listen to the lamentations, looks of pity, and on several occasions critical remarks about him. What you didn't know was that in the crowd there was a pair of curious eyes watching you.

Your limit was coming to an end, so you decided to escape the atmosphere for a few minutes to get some fresh air, you needed a breather if you were to last a couple of hours in this place. The gardens were just as engrossing as the interior. There was not a single leaf protruding from the vegetation, and the singing of the fountain water professed a relationship in your body, no one could tell you were in the middle of the island of Manhattan.

"Have you given up already?" you closed your eyes as you heard that tone of voice behind you. "I was surprised to see you talking so long with Mrs. Fox, at one point I even thought you were going to spill the champagne on her dress."

Without turning around you smiled at his words, for more than once you had thought of throwing your glass of champagne at them and leaving the place.

"You look beautiful tonight," you felt her voice grow closer. "You've always known I love that dress."

Her body was so close to you that you felt her jacket brush lightly against her bare back. At no time had it crossed your mind that Tony would show up there that night, on the contrary, you thought he would be anywhere else but New York. Taking a breath of air into your lungs, giving yourself strength, you decided to turn around and face him face to face. You hadn't seen each other for months and the last time you did, things didn't go so well, so you hadn't spoken to each other again.

"What are you doing here, Tony?" you asked in a serious tone, which didn't surprise him.

"Assuming this is a benefit party," he began holding out his hands, "I'm guessing drinking several dry martinis, Scotch, champagne, putting up with comments I don't care about and letting them praise me to get my money's worth."

"I thought you hated these kinds of parties," you expounded somewhat uncomfortably at the situation.

"And I do," he stated bluntly, taking a sip of his martini. "But you have to think about charity too, don't you?"

You knew him well enough to differentiate his tones in conversations, you knew when he was using his ironic tone, when he was lying, when he was insecure or when he was speaking from within. On this occasion his words contained extra information that he wasn't telling you, so you opted to give up on him, you had to deal with the people inside that building, you couldn't start a war with Tony right now.

"In that case," you started to walk away towards the inside of the museum, "I hope you enjoy your evening, Tony".

You had left Tony and his dry martini behind, now all you had to do was get through a couple more hours without incident and the day could be over. You picked up another glass of champagne from the tray of one of the waiters and before you could look for a target you were already inside a group of investors of your company showing the best of your smiles.

You kept the thought of him being there from your mind, but it was practically unavoidable for you. You didn't want to destabilise yourself, but it was more than evident that you still felt something towards Tony, feelings don't go away overnight and even more so towards a person you had loved with all your being. He knew it, he had an advantage in that sense, you weren't as good as him at hiding feelings, that's why you chose to stay as far away as possible from your ex-partner. But it wasn't possible.

"Mr. Herbert, Mr. Johnson," as if out of nowhere he joined the group you were conversing with. "Oh, Mrs. Johnson, you look splendid tonight."

Tony's compliments fell on Mrs. Johnson, who blushed when she heard them. Who didn't blush when someone like him told you how beautiful you were? He had a superhuman power over people, and he played it really well.

"Would you allow me to steal Miss Y/L/N from you?" he asked flashing a smile on his face.

"Please," they offered.

"Excuse me," you said with little escape. "I won't be long."

As if you didn't have a word in the matter Tony tackled you, walking a couple of feet away from the group with whom you were getting to close a big deal for the future of the company.

"Tony was about to-"

"Dance with me," he said curtly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"What?" you asked a little puzzled.

His brown eyes stared into yours. You began to get a little nervous at the intensity of his gaze, so you looked around.

"Dance with me."

"I... I don't have time to dance with you," you explained, gesturing with your hands. "I'm here working, you know that better than anyone."

"I know," he nodded his head without taking his eyes off you. "That's why I'm asking you to dance with me. You know I'm the biggest benefactor of the night. So... dance with me." Tony lowered the tone of his voice, more seductive, one you knew perfectly well.

"Are you... blackmailing me? Or, worse, are you buying me with money?" you asked with a somewhat surly frown.

"I wasn't the one who said you were working," he defended himself. "But looking at it that way... there's no one else here who would get the money out of me."

"I thought you were doing this for charity," you attacked him.

"And I am," he said with all the confidence in the world. "But I need you to give your hand out to please me, too."

Tony offered you his hand along with a slight smile slanted across his face. You were playing with fire, you really would be if you decided to take his hand and surrender at his feet. The night would turn around completely, but what you feared most was how it would end. Inside you two opposing parts were fighting to select the best decision, on the one hand your brain was literally telling you to reject him and get out of there as soon as possible, on the other hand your emotions were screaming at you to take his hand and let yourself go. Whatever you did, you were likely to regret it later, so you chose to regret doing it.

You took a breath and released him by placing your hand on his, which amplified his smile even more. Without a second thought, he led you to the dance floor, where the melody coming from a group of musicians could be heard with more effusiveness. It was relaxed, soothing, inviting you to dance in pairs. Tony gently pulled you to his body and placed the palm of his hand on your bare back, too far south for your liking, on the contrary, you placed it on his shoulder.

"Relax," he whispered inches from your face. "We've done this many times."

"I'm relaxed," you lied in a way he couldn't quite believe, so you tried to justify yourself. "I'm just thinking that I should go with Mr. Johnson to-"

"Oh, you're thinking about another man while you're dancing with me?" he asked cutting you off with mock indignation. "Very nice."

You ducked your face with a small smile, which he himself returned along with an intense stare.

"Did I tell you that you look amazing tonight?" he asked, searching your gaze.

"I think you commented on it when we met in the garden," you said, trying not to fall for his charms.

"Then I'll reaffirm it again," his martini breath reached you. "You look beautiful. Plus you're wearing the perfume I gave you."

Discomfort at his words came back to you, and though you avoided showing it your unconscious inspections of your surroundings, avoiding eye contact gave you away.

"Look at me," he demanded.

As you complied with his request, you realised that you didn't know if you would be able to go through with it. The proximity you were having created an intimate situation that was causing numerous memories and feelings to come to your mind and body. For Tony it might have been easy, but for you it wasn't, mostly because you knew that when it was over you were going to go home, to face the reality that he was no longer present. You were not as strong as he was. You hadn't seen him for months, since you broke up, and you knew that it was going to end up hurting you, so you decided to put an end to that dream.

"I think..." you dropped your hand from his shoulder. "I can't go on."

With a calm step you walked away from him, leaving him alone among the other dancing couples, forced a small smile to dedicate it to those people who waved at you as you passed them and headed back outside, finding a place under the night to regain lost strength, praying that Tony wouldn't show up there again. But he wasn't giving up so easily.

"Are you okay?" his figure appeared behind you.

A lump took over your throat as you heard his voice again. You took a deep breath and told yourself to be as nonchalant as possible about the situation.

"Yeah, I just needed to get some air," you commented impassively.

"Okay, I thought you looked a little uncomfortable," he commented, moving to your left side. "You know, it was just a dance."

"Are you kidding me, just a dance?" you said somewhat offended that he barely noticed. "Okay, fine, maybe it's just a dance for you, but it wasn't for me." You had already started to blurt out everything you were thinking, so now you decided not to stop. "These last few months have been horrible, but I was finally starting to take charge of my life completely, and this is a step backwards, I don't want to fall."

"Fall?" Tony cocked his head to one side, clicking his tongue a little. "Do you...do you think these past few months have been easy for me? Because I reckon you think it has been, that I've been 'enjoying the freedom', as you called it."

Tony reminded you of some of the words that came out of your mouth the last time you met at his house, when you went to pick up your things, a fact that embarrassed you greatly.

"I don't think that," you defended yourself by turning away.

"It seems so," his words were firm, as was the step he took towards you. "Listen, I think you know me better than anyone, and just because I don't have the facility you do to show how I feel doesn't mean I'm not affected by things. In case you're interested to know, I haven't left the lab in five months."

The expression on Tony's face had hardened, as had his words.

"I came here with the sole intention of seeing you, of feeling something again," he clenched his jaw.

"And what position does that put me in?" you asked raising your tone as he did and boring your eyes into his. "You come here, you see me, you feel something and you disappear..."

"Who said anything about disappearing?" he frowned lifting his chin.

"Tony, I don't know with what intention you came here tonight or what you expected to happen," you said, feeling more vulnerable, with a tone of sadness, "but what is clear is that we made a decision and no matter how hard it is, we must accept it. It is clear that there are still feelings, at least on my part, but let's put the past behind us," you paused under his watchful gaze. "I'd better get going."

Saying those words and checking the stiffness in Tony's countenance you opted to continue on your way.

"Wait," Tony stopped your steps by grabbing your arm. "You think I can let you go after what you just said?"

"Enjoy your night, Tony."

That's how for the first time you were brave enough to take back the reins of your life, closing the door to the past and opening a window to the future.

Taglist Open (DM)

MAIN MASTERLIST

#tony stark x reader #tony stark #tony stark x you #y/n #prompts #drabbles #valentine's prompts #valentine's day #tony stark imagine #imagines #iron man #iron man x reader #marvel fan fiction #fan fiction #fanfic #ff #angst #fluff

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dantelionwishes · 3 years

Note

I WANNA HEAR D'S THOUGHTS ON JEN'S QUESTION Spill the beans! You've even got me curious now!

“Do you think Rose is a good person?”

I’ll answer not just Jen’s question, but generally thoughts surrounding D and Rose’s relationship!! It’s gonna be long because I think about this a WHOOOOOOLE lot, and I seriously mean a whole lot,,, so read ahead!

btw, if you think Rose is a bad person and D hates him, that’s where you’re mistaken! IT’S MY STORY MY HEADCANONS SO IF U DONT WANNA READ THIS THEN DONT BRO HJASGJHASHJ

PRE-ETERNATUS, CHALLENGER ARC

Ive mentioned before, but D and the chairman had a fairly good relationship!!

In-game, rose is very interested in the player and talks to you a lot, so honestly not much changes here

D, in his challenger phase, is forcibly very loud and flamboyant. being overly animated and confident, he’s able to keep up with rose who likes to chat and banter with him

When d talks to people, he KNOWS he’s being over-the-top, which is why he feels very awkward doing it (when people point it out, it makes it painfully awkward and embarrassing for them. Point in case: bede and Marnie!)

Rose finds him a very interesting trainer and observes D a lot. Its not hard to notice how hard he’s trying, but rose doesn’t point this out and genuinely moves along with what D’s vibes are as to not make him feel any more humiliated

D is aware that Rose is playing along with his act, and thanks to this it really builds up trust like!! Oh the chairman isn’t making fun of me and genuinely finds me interesting and strong!!!! the chairman!! What a morale boost!!!!!!

Again, its genuinely (funny and) awkward when D is being his over-the-top animated self, and its easy to point this out (which most people do, from his rivals to other trainers, to even gym leaders) but the only people who dont actively point it out AND act along would be his mom, hop, Leon, and rose!

in addition, D has a pretty high-pitched voice so its easy to tell he’s trans?? He was worried he was going to be misgendered by such an all-important person like the chairman, but was surprised when rose immediately was just comfortable with calling him a “young man”

Another cute trivia thing during this stage was that they both are wearing shades for their “incognito mode” and D even gives the chairman some fashion tips for the next time he goes out!

It actually pisses off bede with how much rose and d talk;;;;;; def one of the reasons why d and bede fight hhhh

The part of the plot where they head to rose tower, D was actually very against it in the beginning, saying that he could actually just try and call up the chairman if he wanted to! He tries and tries, but then starts to panic once he does in fact realise that something isnt right

Even after storming thru rose tower and defeating oleana, d eVEN TRIES TO INVITE ROSE TO THEIR DINNER (MY BOY IS THINKIN: A DINNER WITH HIS FAV PPL!! HOP, LEON, AND ROSE!! the only one missing would be his mom) ……….but r-rose dismisses it with a smile, saying maybe next time…………..

D is a meek, insecure person who is easily broken down, so he really needs a lot of support to keep moving sO JUST IMAGINE this baby boy who puts trust in someone suddenly goes batshit and you have to defeat them with ur own hands????? Wowza.

POST-ETERNATUS, NEWLY APPOINTED CHAMPION

OH BOY EVERYONE KNOWS HOW THIS FUCKIN GOES IF THEY REMEMBER MY FIRST POSTS JHASGJHHJAS

Ive already shown this via an illustration + a short Drabble, but its only after the eternatus battle that their father-son relationship is revealed

The game really doesnt show how serious the eternatus battle was, but for me: Leon was hospitalised for quite some time and wasn’t allowed to battle D until he healed up. At the same time, this gave D a lot of time to think about wHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED

I dont mention it, but this is where his gym leader au starts off from the canon timeline!! At this point, D is calling his mom or talking to hop or just locking himself up and is just generally in a panicked state where he feels like dropping out of the challenge, feeling overwhelmed with what just happened

ANYWAY IM HERE TO TALK ABT ROSE AND D but lets just say his Pokemon convince him to continue!!

at the same time of his win, gossip went around quick and not only is D now very popular for suddenly defeating the unbeatable champion Leon, but is actually the “villainous” chairman rose’s son!??!?!?!??!!

POOR SON BOY IS OVERWHELMED ONCE MORE, HELP HIM.

He actually escapes to the isle of armour + crown tundra as a way to give him time to think about this more (isle of armour: personal time for himself to think alone, crown tundra: chance to spend time with relatives he didn’t know he had)

OK GENUINE RELATIONSHIP ANALYZATION TIME:

After becoming champion, he really didnt go see rose at all, feeling a plenty mix of frustration, sadness, anger, betrayal, but!! his feelings dont simply surround the “oh the adult I trusted was actually bad and lied to me“ or “wtf hes the dad who wasn’t there for me and is the reason why mom is alone how dare he” IT REALLY WAS A MIX OF BOTH HGHHGHH

But its BECAUSE he was close to him in the first place that he knows rose wasn’t just….straight up a bad person or a villain

The important part here was that rose and D were close during the challenger part, and our lad had a lot of time to think about how he was simply a good, misguided man

rose is very passionate about the things he cares about, to the point of doing anything and everything for them (ex. Awakening eternatus for Galar’s sake to the point of accidentally getting darkest day, or even working hard for Miriam’s sake to the point of accidentally never being there for her anymore)

Yeah, d talked to a whole lot of people to think this over. He learned what happened between rose and his mom while talking to her, and D also learned what happened between peony and rose to further understand what’s up!!

In the process, I like to think both Miriam and peony dont hate rose! D was also an important factor in helping the both of them realise and clear up a few things, and at least, in their minds, stay on good terms with rose

During both DLC arcs, D is silent at first but slowly n surely starts sending small letters to Rose :’))

YAY ACTUAL INTERACTION????

After a lot of thought on his self-journey, its safe to say that D had felt a lot more comfortable, finally talking to rose after the galarian star tournament arc !!

Ive mentioned before, but its not like D has to start from scratch since they had a good relationship as challenger and chairman beforehand anyway

D wants a dad! He does want to meet his dad, and at the same time rose regrets not making time for his lover and future family, so I’d say after pushing away the initial negative awkwardness they do both have the same, genuine goal in mind to talk to each other and build a good relationship with each other!!!!!!

Ive also said before but like ONE OF D’S FEARS IS…..”WHAT IF I MEET MY DAD AND HES TRANSPHOBIC” YKNO???? So knowing that rose already thinks hes already perfect in his eyes, IT REALLY DOES WONDERS TO A YOUNG BOY YKN O ?? ? ? ? ??

Uhhhhh honestly I really dont know how jail works and shit sO LETS JUST SAY D VISITS REGULARLY IF HES NOT BUSY WITH CHAMPION DUTIES!!!

Also I have nO idea what oleana means by “WHERE IS CHAIRMAN ROSE” cos like….iSNT HE JUST VIBIN IN JAIL??????? Lets just say he is sdghjjhsdhj

TL;DR

D had a lot, and I mean A LOT, of time to think about Rose. He does not have any ill intentions or feelings towards him, and the two have a hopeful, slowly budding father-and-son relationship.

#kamiart #i ansr #how dare you enable me #7.5k words..........THIS IS INSANE.#trainersona #chairman rose #Miriam (mum)#peony #there are so many words here I just hjjahsghjhjHJAJGSHHJSA #IS IT TOO MUCH #HAHAHAHAHAHA #I HOPE ITS GOOD LIKE #UH #CHARACTER STUDY KINDA #LMAO

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nanasarea · 4 years

Text

Jung Jaehyun as your idol bf

Genre: fluff

Pairing: jaehyun x idol!reader

Request: Heyy!! It's been a minute! Could I request Jaehyun as your idol!bf ? ♡JJ

Word count: 1358

a/n: yall, i don’t proof read, this shouldn’t even come as a surprise.

Haechan / Yuta / Mark / Jeno / Jaemin / Chenle / Renjun / Jisung

When you heard you were asked to be in an sm station with jaehyun

you freaked

and so did he (see gif for reference)

and so did all of your and his members

mainly because they could tease you afterwards

bc they’re little shits

i mean what

ANYWAY

you go in and are immediately a bit intimidated

he’s like 180 cm (5’11″) tall

what do you expect

he’s barefaced

and he’s wearing this really cute hoodie

and a baseball cap

which for some reason makes him look even more attractive than usual

and he’s like “sorry I’m late, I overslept and rushed over”

and you’re asking yourself

what kind of bullshit

he looked this good mere minutes after waking up??

this is witchcraft

you were sure of it

and yes, you were intimidated

but not for long

he turned into the nicest friendliest human you’d ever meet in your entire life

not only 5 minutes after meeting

and you’re convinced sm actually made him in their basement

like what how is he such an angel

but like the next day,

and you realize he is actually a mad man

have you seen how he opens albums???

you try and stay calm and professional

but mr. troy bolton just had to drive you insane

he asks if you can look at each other while singing

to make him less nervous

and you’re like

aww that’s sweet but I will faint

Breaking Free 2.0 up in here

like your manager feels like a third wheel there

and everyone else in the studio

his manager even asks your manager how long they think you two will need to start dating

and so the bet began

you two knew of it

they were bad at hiding it

and knowing his competitive ass, he probably placed a bet too

not like in a bad way

just how long he needed to ask you out

“I really want to get to know you better, would getting iced coffee at the cafe down the street be of any interest to you?”

and of course you agreed

you’re not stupid

his manager ended up winning

which made jaehyun all sulky

we all know he is one of the most competitive human beings

but he chickened out one time

because he was nervous

johnny doesn’t let him live

like ever again

you end up going to the cafe

and he shows up in all black

and a baseball cap

basically his outfit from when he went to the coffee shop with johnny from the relay cam

and he looks so boyfriend

and you almost melt

anyway

you talk a lot about music

obviously

mainly his LPs

his music taste is so attractive honestly ugh

time skip to when he asks you to be his girlfriend

which is before your station was released

because he was just so excited

about being with you so he didn’t bother waiting

so when your station was released,

your members knew and hinted of it

so did his

it’s not like they made it that obvious

but like if you read between the lines

it was there

the teasing tho omg

he would be so cocky don’t even

like I’m not saying he would just smile to himself abt it

but he would

“yeah, I got myself some, get on my level”

I know everyone is like

omg prince charming in the flesh

he is

but he’s also SO CHAOTIC

he obviously buys all your albums

and lightstick

all the merch

ends up breaking half of it

it’s okay, he has a black card, he can just buy more

almost exposed you two when you won your first win

he was the mc and when he gave you the award,

he tried so hard not just lift you up in his arms and spin you around

don’t worry, he did that afterwards

behind the scenes

he ends up being no where to be seen in those backstage videos

because he’s always with you

but he’s so cautious about it

he doesn’t want you to get in trouble

so it takes so long for you two to make your relationship public

but when you do,

everyone feels like booboo the fool

like how did no one notice?

most of your dates are in his room

listening to music

and drinking wine

he classy like that

but like 3 minutes later,

you’re watching high school music

he perfect cute like that

ends up serenading you with the songs

and haechan walks into his room

“can you two stfu, you’re too loud, and that’s coming from me”

you don’t shut up tho

you just sing louder to spite him

speaking of that,

jaehyun is a brat

you can’t convince me otherwise

not like all the time

but let’s say you tell him not to do something

or that he can’t

he will make sure that he does it

no matter what

ngl you find it attractive

his competitiveness is so hot istg

you know how he’s like

really into his IG?

you’re the only one he follows

he risked his perfect ratio of like a million to 0

for you and you only

and that’s when you knew he was the one

also you can’t tell me like half of his posts are now photos of you

or you and him

candid couple photos

and whenever you post something

he hypes you up in the comments

like he knows how to flirt

we been knew

and just because ya’ll are official now

doesn’t stop him from flirting with you 24/7

does he care that you’re at an award show with a ton of fans looks at you all the time?

does he care that you’re trying to practice?

does he care that johnny and mark are dragging him away from you because they need to leave for another schedule?

hah no

and they’re sometimes really random

he loves you get all flustered

so you start doing the same

and you always tease him for how red his ears are

but don’t tease him too much

because he will make you regret it

if you know what I’m saying

sneaks into your dorms after his schedule ends

and just lays with you

while you talk about anything

and everything

also have i mentioned he catches you listening to one of his songs

and he goes all uwu

he’s so flustered

he ends up writing some lyrics for the new album

and when you listen to them

he just randomly says

“oh, by the way, that’s about you”

and so you do the same

he has the song on repeat forever

his fave song now

he can’t keep a straight face when listening to it

his go to answer for whenever anyone asks for song recs

also he keeps talking about you

like everywhere

he doesn’t even feel bad

one night, you tell him you can’t fall asleep

so he sings you to sleep on the phone

but he doesn’t have the heart to hang up

even if he needs to

gets johnny to do it

johnny teases him for it

I’m not implying that you get into petty bets

abt everything and anything

I’m saying it, not implying

i know i keep bringing it up, but he’s so competitive what do you expect

also you’re the only one he’s okay with winning at isac

like when you score highest at a certain sport

he just walks around like

“you see that? that’s mine!”

all proud and shit

“yeah, that’s cool but did your s/o score 10 points 4 consecutive times during the archery tournament? didn’t think so”

don’t even get me started on how he’d be at your concert

waving 2 light sticks, has a banner, all y/n merch

johnny, mark and jungwoo swear they don’t know him after that

but it’s okay

you find it cute

which is all that matters to him

almost cries when you dedicate a song to him

and by almost i mean he did

and said that if anyone says anything,

he will deny it

in conclusion: jaehyun best boy(friend)

and now I’m even more whipped for this man than I was before

Tag list (which i forgot, i apologize): @soleilchannie

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xthelastknownsurvivorx · 3 years

Text

Hamilton!firstprince au

(cross posted from twitter with a couple of edits b/c i couldn’t make them there)

in which i loosely follow the plot of hamilton except its firstprince and alex and henry get a happy ending. inspired by the striking similarities i noted between our favorite first son and his namesake hamilton in the broadway musical

the similarities:

both have/will have a political career

both often talk too much/don't mind their words

both began as lawyers

both extremely motivated but overwork themselves (“nonstop” + “you have a fire under ur ass for no good goddamn reason)

both had some sort of sex scandal that impacted their career plans

hamilton speculated to be bi

the story

the setup of the colonized country alex lives in is similar to the usa vs england but fictional bc alexs race would have limited his opportunities in america's early years

idk names for either of these countries so its now the colony and the motherland

alex + his mom live alone in the poorer southern part of the colony

but his dad + june live elsewhere + they dont rly contact e/o (tho they do know of e/o’s existence)

june becomes a journalist who writes important pieces abt independence

when alex comes of age his mom reveals she used to be part of the rebellion

thats actually why his dad left to raise june bc it was too dangerous

his parents met in the rebellion but oscar left first for june while ellen stayed until she realized she was pregnant w alex

ellen still has some rebel contacts but she mostly sheltered alex to keep him safe

now tho alex decides to join too + the rebellion sends him up north to the capital for an education bc he's smart + they need people like that

he attends uni + meets like-minded people there

tension grows btwn the colony in the motherland, and alex + his friends write/speak out often and this goes on throughout their schooling

they’re also troublemakers in general too, much to the annoyance of the motherland soldiers stationed in the capital to prevent rebellion

henry is one of those soldiers

he's from a noble family in the motherland but was sent overseas as the sort of black sheep of the family due to his sexuality

the idea was to let him be in charge in the colony + reestablish a reputation there w/o embarrassing the main family back home

henry hates his job + feels bad for the colonists but still does what he's told anyway

alex + fhis riends like to bug motherland soldiers for fun

nothing enough to put their lives in danger too much (although yes that too esp when drunk)

henry becomes a favorite target of alex's bc he's awfully stoic + statue like + on the way to uni - overall fun to antagonize

there's also the fact that alex is angry at all the soldiers for oppressing the colony + holding up the motherland monarchs tyranny (but also alex just is the type to fight literally everything and anything)

it becomes almost a daily ritual for them to argue

henry wonders why this colonist keeps on picking a fight w him but soon almost looks forward to it

many of the other soldiers know or speculate why henry is in the colony but none make the effort to get to know him; some even call him arrogant or undeserving of his position

alex doesn't

of course alex also doesn't know him

and alex hates him

but he doesn't whisper behind henry's back

henry comes to read some of the essays alex publishes speaking out against the monarchy + also hears alex speak to crowd in the square

alex is a talented + charismatic public speaker

henry finds himself growing increasingly sympathetic to the colonists cause

at the same time he and the other soldiers are order to be stricter and dole out more punishments

the others gleefully do so which makes henry concerned about alex's safety bc alex often seems to have no self-preservation skills

henry asks alex for a word when he's alone

“am I in trouble?” “no but you bloody will be if u keep going on like this”

“this is serious” “so am I” “you can't go around saying things so openly you'll get yourself killed”

alex tries to leave at this point “I think I'll be ok” but henry shoves him against the nearest wall

“listen to me! stop acting like this is a game! ur putting ur sodding life in danger! I dont bloody care what ur opinions r but why must u declare them around enemy soldiers? how is this helpful 2 ur cause? u cant fight if ur dead”

“you'd b surprised how effective martyrs are”

cue enraged henry noises

alexs gaze turns hard “listen i appreciate/the advice” he says sarcastically “but I dont need an enemy telling me what to do. I can take care of myself”

there's a stirring in alexs chest after he removes henry's hand and stalks off that he's pretty sure is anger

like it can't be anything else

while alex is trying to convince himself of that, the tensions boil over + soon the two sides are on the brink of war then the fighting starts

henry + alex don't talk much for a while bc they're both busy on their sides preparing

school is on hold during the war so alex + his friends are looking to serve + bring glory to their names

alex esp is recognized for his intelligence + becomes the recognized general rafael lunas secretary

luna is the george washington figure in this case who is impressed by alex wants him as his right-hand man

alex is disappointed his role is not on the battlefield bc he knows he has a good tactical mind + he could change the tide of a losing war + gain honor and status thru it, which would put him in a good position to be elected in the future

as secretary, alex is in charge of a lot of important correspondence eg for more supplies + men, so the motherland soldiers figure ambushing him off the battlefield would make things hard for the colonists

henry overhears this plan + immediately worries for alex's safety but he's cornered by another soldier to talk strategy + misses the chance to take out the men then

henry manages to catch that they're going to attack alex at night when he leaves + henry arrives just in time to kill them in a panic

alex hears the gunshot + yells “drop ur weapon”, drawing his own gun

henry obviously does + alex inspects the scene he keeps a gun fixed on henry

“what's going on?” he asks, eyeing henry w/ suspicion

henry explains everything + looks positively terrified bc he just betrayed his side even tho the motherland and his family has treated him like shit since he came out but still.

becoming an outright traitor is not something henry ever planned + leaving behind everything he's ever known w no hope of ever going back is terrifying

but he also doesn't regret protecting alex

alex questions henry but can quickly tell henry is sincere + is telling the truth

henry explains his change of heart + they have a heartfelt moment in/just outside luna's office.

alex almost died + henry just switched sides, emotions are running high and they escalate into a kiss. the moon is out + it's all very romantic but they don't admit their feelings yet

soon after they go to luna, explain the situation + talk w the other generals/people in charge

henry is sent away on an assignment + is watched closely at first but he proves his loyalty quickly

henry and alex write letters back + forth that turn into love letters

besides managing correspondence for luna, some of alexs ideas of sneak attacks/stealing supplies help turn the tide of the war andhe also writes to other countries for foreign aid

eventually the colonists win in this huge up start that no one anticipated bc the motherland is known as the most powerful country in the world

he + henry reunite in the capital of once the war is over

alex finishes up his studies + practices law + soon is chosen to be part of the new lawmaking body

things are going pretty well for alex w his legal + political success and his relationship with henry

they dont live together but theyre dating tho no one else knows

alex pretends to be single instead + says he doesn't want to be tied down

it works while he's still in his early 20s but as he gets closer to 30, people start to find it strange + tell him he needs to settle

being married to his work is also not a valid excuse anymore

it turns out alex made quite a few political enemies due to his strong opinions that he always vocalises + can be unwilling to compromise on

they don't like his ideas or more often hate him and hence his ideas too

they look for some dirt on him bc atm he has lunas support which has a lot of sway + decide they need to find out why he hasn't married

they manage to find out about henry + threaten to tell the public

alex is obviously distraught re the consequences personally + politically

so alex and henry discuss what to do

henry is willing to put alexs political career 1st but firmly explains their relationship can't continue if that's the case

henry gave up his whole life + any possibility of going back to his family so he's not willing to be someone's dirty little secret

alex doesn't know what to do so he goes to consult luna who he's become very close with over the years

luna is not quite old enough to be his father but he's like an uncle + he always calls alex “kid”, much to alex's annoyance

but alex knows he'll have some good advice

alex + luna end up having a long conversation

like washington luna has always been very vocal abt his regrets re his naivety + desire for glory back in his youth

hes always said that this was his greatest regret in life. but then he tells alex like he had another great regret in life- letting go of the love of his life

alex is surprised bc luna's never mentioned anyone special

“who is she?”

“he” luna corrects “he was my best friend. we had something a relationship but it was short-lived bc I decided I wanted to join the military + attain glory. i thought thats what i wanted in life. turns out that stuff is meaningless w/o anyone to share it w. nor did I even achieve it. perhaps i did accomplish some things but now in my retirement I have no one by my side. i have found that life is meaningless without love and family.

“i tried to find my friend to reconnect after all these years even as simply friends but he died in the war. alex, I see many similarities between us. don't make the same mistake that I did, alexander. glory + lasting legacy mean nothing if you're alone in the end

“if you make choices that are motivated by love and family you will be a lot happier”

alex takes his advice even though he kind of hates sort of giving up to his enemies

he decides to choose henry and his own happiness over politics bc in the end he's done a lot of good work and that much is enough

also his enemies probably would try to blackmail him throughout his career if he was doing something against their interests

so he + henry leave the capital and move uptown and the two of them have a quiet retirement + engage in philanthropy for the rest of their lives

separately they've amassed a decent amount of money - henry kept a portion of his inheritance despite being unofficially disowned and alex made a lot of money as a lawyer and then politician

as it turns out alex still has a tangential role in politics when some of his former allies go to him for advice

all in all, alex happy with his final decision to be with henry and step away from politics

the two of them live happy and full lives together

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #firstprince #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz #alexander claremont diaz #rwrb fic

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heyyylittlemo · 4 years

Text

Ask game

1. Where did you hide the body??

Me: *pause* No, where did you hide the body—

*police stare at me with disbelief*

Me: there’s no—there’s not a single body here—well stop looking at me like that, you’re the cop! You should know! Why are you asking me for! Body? Whaaaaaat. Ahaha.

*cops shake head*

*whispers to my friend* Guys I think I pulled that one off

Police: you know we can hear everything you’re saying

me: 👁👄👁

2. Favorite rock? The 1975. Dominic Fike. Arctic Monkeys. Bad Suns. The killers. Pale Waves. Etc. That good good shit 👌

3. Most aesthetic season? Fall. Love them orange colors. The leaves falling. Though spring is also neat if you have a bunch of flowers bloomin in shit and winter is only aesthetic when it’s snowing. Boring ass summer tho just be heating me up.

4. When texting do u shorten words or spell out? I used to write stuff out all the time mostly but now it’s like half and half bcuz its just faster and nobody got time for it 🤣🤣

5. Vintage stuff? Hell yeah, but maybe not anything too expensive since some old stuff IS hyper expensive.

6. Colors that pop or blend? Not sure I understand what u mean abt them blending ahaha u mean like when they’re so similar to another?? Well I think it’s nice but honestly I prefer a pop and a bang, y’Know?

- At this moment I realized I was answering the last few questions from a completely different ask and felt like a dumbass 😂 anyways the actual number we’re on is three so imma just kickback

3. Worst dream u have ever had? I had sleep paralysis but was imbetween that and a lucid dream. At first I was paralyzed and could see my bed but my eyes felt closed and open at the same time?? A giant dark demon looking dog had towered over me and began to tear at my neck. It looked and felt very real I started to try to scream and it felt like a scream was coming out but no sound exited. Then I went into a lucid dream where I was being chased by this dog and running for my life I was running by and nobody could save me nobody in the dream when it caught up to me I was back in my bed and it was trying to eat me again. I was so terrified I couldn’t sleep for a whole week.

4. Lyric that comes to your mind? “And I don’t think I can be there. I’m paralyzed,I’m terrified of being alone. When you said I deserved what had happened.”

5. Blood make u uncomfortable? Yes, I passed out once when getting my finger pricked and a VERY small blood sample and another when dissecting a fish.

6. Even or odd numbers? Well I like the number 5,7,9, 3 so odd. (Like me 🤣🤣)

7. Something I hate that I love? Anything I’ve ever loved becuz love can be frustrating. Bruh.

8. 1st initial of someone I hate? Hmm...do I hate someone tho? Not that I can think of...

9. *Skipping down the lane* NOPE

10. Corn dogs? It’s funny cuz when I think of corn dogs my mind will always go to when we first moved to our current house because at our initial town we never had Sonic and while we were getting the house fixed up and moving stuff we use to always get Sonic since it was the closest to us most times to eat and that was a bunch of corn dogs and hotdog days 🤣 so thnk u corn dogs for ur service

11. I’m not a huge movie person so...I looked up movies from 2005 and movies Inlike from this time are Brokeback mountain bcuz it’s gay af, Shark Boy and Lava Girl damn I rewatched the shot out of it when I was younger, Narnia and the Chocolate Factory(although it low key creeped me out as a kid, and idk why).

12. Least fav music genre? Most country, most EDM, dubstep, screaming/really hard rock, some pop music, mumble raping.

13. As someone who waits on tables, my job is my least favorite restaurant experience 🤣🤣 just dealing with ppl...like ok, I’m half Hispanic right?? But I look white. Well, I work at a Mexican restaurant and so sometimes racist costumers will say shady shit just bcuz I guess they think it’s appropriate to say it to me just bcuz I’m not Hispanic in their eyes?? But it pisses me off and I feel like I can’t say anything without causing a drama which I hate and when the “costumers always right” it can be hard to budge and stand up and say “bitch wtf did u just say??” And there’s just folks who take things the wrong ways or ask too much at once or give u a hard time or just say something that sticks onto you for the whole day. One bad move can turn my whole day upside down.

14. 3 things never come near me? Cockroaches, Needles, and close mind ppl

15. Worst way to die? With regrets. Something really brutual, random, or where something just happened to go wrong (accident). Being killed by someone u love.

16. Unusual habits? Doing a Michael Jackson esque “hee-hee” after every sneeze I make, being extremely clumsy and making every task 100% more difficult, having the ability to talk as if I have an accent that comes from nowhere in particular just stupidity also I can’t speak my own language half the time 🙃getting words confused or misusing them in a sentence so I sound dumb having a very weird imagination and thoughts, I swear it like I never went to school and don’t know how the world works, plus many many more

17. Clothing style u want? I want to dress in a way that screams who I am and is a blend of both femininity and masculinity. A little vintage. Grunge. Urban maybe?? What do I know abt fashion 🤣🤣

18. Song or artist that deserves more? Dijon, hands down. I love his stuff. He’s like Frank Ocean meets light-singing beautiful lyricist with a more rock vibe?? Hidden gem. I also think Durand Jones & the Indications needs more love along with BadBadNotGood they sound like old-times but are new!! Oh, and Pale Waves is like a female The 1975 and kicks it. Bad Suns is a good alt rock band that no one seems to recognize :,D Toro y Moi too! His song with Flume “The difference “ is a banger!! Kid Cudi is my man when I want a blend of rock and rap. Also Dominic Fike,King Krule, and Roy Blair, who are all amazing!! Ok I need to stop 🛑

Duck I answered the past questions from a different post I’m sorry 😐

17. Emoji never used? There’s a bunch since I reuse the same over and over again. Lmao

18. 3 sentence Gatorade horror story? A faint quiver overtook the small freezer the Gatorade lay in; no one had come by in days, hours, weeks; when was the last time he met the lips of a thirsty body? They’d forgotten about him, as his last sips remained glued to his hollowing entrance. ‘Help, ‘it wanted to say, but it’s frozen lips could not be moved; It’d stay here, die here...just like the rest.” What am I doing with my life 🤣🙏

19. Do u know what an old bay is? A bay that is old? And old ocean? Idk!!!

20. Can u dance? Sometimes I dance when I’m alone but nothing spectral lol

21. What first comes to ur mind when u see ropes? 2 extremes. Sex and death. Hm. Ok. Moving on.

22. Make an obscure reference. “Even a bra couldn’t hold these nipples” *Holds a water gun to chest*

23. Fav balloon color? Pink or yellow.

24. If u were in court would u be innocent or guilty? Depends, what am I in court for 🤣 lmao jk honestly idk bcuz I don’t think I’d wind up in there

25. Are u hungry ? Nope

26. Unlucky number? Hm I don’t think so but I have a lucky number “123”

27. What’s “JMD”stand for? I’m guessing...Jamming my d—- 💀lol jk ahaha why am so dirt

28. Random inside joke? *chirpy squeak* I’m making a double batch of cookies

29. What sends chills up ur spine? Seeing disgust food or smell disgust or talking abt disgust things like gore

30. How many questions are in ur inbox? A pathetic zero ahaha no one want to ask me anything 😂

31. Someone real who scares u. 2 of my ex friends. One when I was 10 said disturbing things and I was kinda forced onto the friendship and everything they said make me fear for others lives...and then a different ex friend who seemed normal at 1st but became both low key psychopath cult leader type stuff and I booed out of there—-.

32. Run or hide? Uhh probably hide because I’d say even if ppl say “u can run but u can’t hide” u CAN just hide! that’s the point of hiding they not find u xD also why not combine them? Hide then run somewhere far away once I got them off the trial.

33. Last person who made u angry? A frickin beetle that flew at me and pinched me in the middle of singing in the shed xD also my autocorrect

34. What’s going on in ur head? I should probably pee soon—

35. Little thing that makes u Smile? A lot of little things bruh.

36. Are u a descisive person?

Not sure.

*pAuse *

Ok, I guess I’m not then 🤣

37. Would ppl say I’m paranoid? Hm maybe about certain things social situations, singing in front of others what ppl think abt me etc etc

38. Store least likely in? Any southern clothes shop, Abercrombie & Finch types shit, lol

39. Do I like hats fave type? Hm not wear many hats but I think they’re cool any type is cool for different ppl and their aesthetici just can’t rock a hat.

40. Bow ties or ties? Don’t really care but now want to see more bow ties

41. Who? You.

42. What? Reading this shit

43. Where? In ur ass

44. When? Now.

45. Why? Not even u know why.

46. How? We all want to know

47. Do u collect anything? Vinyl records.

48. What tome is it? Time to get a watch

49. Fav transportation? My car or walk is possible

50. Would u ever kill someone to save someone? Don’t want to think about that

51. Make a joke. Yo, it’s time to make a joke—so the other day I was working. And I was practicing my Spanish, yes? Anyone whose trying to learn anew language k n o w s that sometimes words can be so close to another u just confuse then! So apparently churros in Spanish is a desert but if u say it more harshly (it literally sounds almost the same) it makes a whole different meaning—diharrea, but like I didn’t know that so I legit just walked up to this person and asked if they would like some shit to eat. So yeah, that was great. Let’s not forget that I mixed up blood, watermelon, and sangria which is a wine. I legit once said I had mixed wine in my vines and another time watermelon 🤣

52. I’m really confused so I skip

53. Would ur dash be confiscated SFW? By dash do u mean this account? Um not 😬

54. Do I like to cuddle? Hell yeah and manhandle ppl all the time it’s my affection

55. What makes u angry? Close minded ppl or ppl who jump too fast to conclusions, strict schedules just dumb stuff that people try to force when I just want to be carefree 😭✌️

56. How many voices are in ur head? 😐

57. Do U consider urself mentally stable? 😐

58. Are u easily offended? Well U just called me mentally unstable and asked it there was voices in my head!!

59. What’s wrong with taking the backstreets? Uhm...

60. Any questions u want ppl to ask u? Nothing in particular but it’s be nice if someone care to ask me something abt me from personal question to my opinions on shit to 19 days fandom related junk 😌

Woooo I’ve finished this game! Thanks to @seiji-amasawa for introducing me to this ^^

#tag game #game #ask #19 days #19days

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dottie-wan-kenobi · 4 years

Note

I loveeee all the songs u chose for Tim!!! Can u maybe do a post or smth explaining why cus it’s so interesting seeing the choice behind these songs

Hi yes I can!! I’m not gonna do all of them here (I can def do the rest if you’d like!!) bc that’s just a Lot all at once lol. Also I might have typos and I apologize but dkjsfhakh I have bandaids on my fingers and it’s hard to type :^/

Disclaimer: some of these songs fit a lot better than other ones

Hard Times by Paramore

I chose this song bc it’s abbout being sad, but the tone is upbeat and happy. Something I’ve noticed abt Tim is that he is (usually) functionally depressed. Like, I read an article about high functioning depression, and it said that a lot of people who have it have a hole in their life – that they can have a job (and Tim does, being either CEO or Red Robin or both), a partner (who I like to think of as Kon), and be part of a family, maintaining this happy/upeat facade, but if you ask them what they do for fun…they usually can’t answer that. And I don’t think Tim can. When he was younger, he could, but what now?

Fave Lyric: “Walking around / With my little rain cloud / Hanging over my head/ And it ain’t coming down / Where do I go? / Gimme some sort of sign / You hit me with lightning! / Maybe I’ll come alive”

Little Lion Man by Mumford & Sons

I chose this bc I can picture Tim, during a low moment like when Kon or Bruce died, just falling apart and thinking he’s not going to survive it, isn’t strong enough, had something to do with their deaths happening,,, etc. Also there’s a line that references anxiety and like lmao that’s Tim!

Fave Lyric: “Tremble for yourself, my man, / You know that you have seen this all before / Tremble, little lion man, / You’ll never settle any of your scores / Your grace is wasted in your face, / Your boldness stands alone among the wreck / Now learn from your mother or else spend your days biting your own neck”

Heroes (we could be) by Alesso feat. Tove Lo

I chose this bc Tim needed a happy song and also because this has such Young Justice vibes !!!! This is Tim and his friends having fun, roaming around, kicking bad guy ass together!! Actually upon looking at the lyrics again, it’s both YJ and Batman & Robin. It just encompasses Tim’s early days of being a hero I think, the happy carefree nature and the bravery and the hope

Fave Lyric: “Everyday people do everyday things but I / Can’t be one of them / I know you hear me now, we are a different kind / We can do anything”

Burn The House Down by AJR

Tbh I mostly chose this bc its a bop and I think he would sing along to it. BUT I also think this kind of represents his life as a public figure/celeb??? And if I wanna go even further, I think it could represent him when he’s older and more confident, with a better self esteem and maybe a lil less depressed (which I hope is in the cards for his future). Also it talks about lying a lot???? I’m sorry, I don’t have a good analysis for this one lmao

Fave Lyric: “Way up way up we go / Been up and down that road / Way up way up, oh no / We gon’ burn the whole house down / Watch me stand in the line / You’re only serving lies / You’ve got something to hide / We gon’ burn the whole house down”

Don’t Let Me Down by The Chainsmokers feat. Daya

I chose this bc it reminded me of Tim and Dick. I’m of the opinion that Tim getting fired from Robin was the right choice and that Dick wasn’t being cruel or anything like that at all, but I also think that Tim probably saw it that way which is valid. So it’s like, to him, Dick was his big brother who was basically always there for him, and then suddenly… he’s not. And everything else going on in his life starts to suck dramatically, and not having his big brother makes it worse, and he feels betrayed. Meanwhile Dick really is on his side, life is just also terrible for him too so they can’t be as close as they were when Tim was Robin. It can also be about Bruce or Kon tbh – just, wanting one of them to be there and they’re not.

Fave Lyric: “Crashing, hit a wall / Right now I need a miracle / Hurry up now, I need a miracle / Stranded, reaching out / I call your name but you’re not around”

More under the cut!!

Don’t Play by Halsey

This…. I chose this bc I really love the celebrity versions of the Bats, and also how competent Tim can be, and this song brings both of those together. Lol this could also be like…what other people think the Bats/Tim think like?? “Don’t play with me, I’m rich and will fuck you up” kinda thing. This is one of the ones that fits less well than the others but I still get Tim vibes from it so I’m keeping it

Fave Lyric: “Tryna take back what you say to me / I don’t give a damn what you say to me / There ain’t no time for games with me”

Over My Head (Cable Car) by The Fray

I get the feeling that after bad shit happens to Tim, he feels the way this song shows. I haven’t read much YJ so I can’t be sure, but I get the feeling that Tim, no matter what the truth is, feels like he’s alone and there’s no one who will help him. Obviously that can be tied back to his childhood and how he had to take care of himself, and so when there are people who actually do wanna help him he doesn’t see it?? And he’s down on himself so he’s probably thinking “they don’t want to help me, and I can’t blame them”

Fave Lyric: “But that’s how it’s got to be / It’s coming down to nothing more than apathy / I’d rather run the other way than stay and see / The smoke and who’s still standing when it clears”

Icarus by Bastille

Okay not so much the drinking aspect of this song but EVERYTHING ELSE. I even used one of the lyrics for a fic title. Basically my thoughts here are: 1) everyone looks to the Robins and sees how much they do and it’s just A Lot, 2) Tim knows Jason died and so he probably thinks that’s in his future too even if Dick survived, and 3) Tim is doing a lot and feeling a lot and trying to protect himself and his feelings, which is hard work especially for someone so young

Fave Lyric: “Living beyond your years / Acting out all their fears / You feel it in your chest”

Needed Me by Rihanna

Again,,,, the Competence. I love that shit. I love BAMF!Bats, and tbh I think this could apply to more than just Tim, but I picked it for him bc of the first lyric!! This is also one of those ones that doesn’t fit super well but djkhfjkdshah I think this could really fit an AU Tim where he’s like. More morally gray. Not necessarily a bad guy but just more confident, more arrogant maybe, and more jaded from the hero-ing life

Fave Lyric: “I was good on my own, that’s the way it was, that’s the way it was / You was good on the low for a faded fuck, on some faded love / Shit, what the fuck you complaining for? / Feeling jaded, huh?”

What I’ve Done by Linkin Park

Okay I think this fits a lot of different things: his actions after Kon’s death, his and Damian’s relationship, the lies he’s told (to ppl like Steph, his dad, Tam?), his relationship with Bruce maybe?? I can also see it as him thinking on who he was as a kid – a stalker basically lmao, but ultimately harmless – versus who he is now – a skilled vigilante who’s definitely not harmless. Stark difference there. Also he’s forgiving himself, which is something I think is important for somebody with a low self view

Fave Lyric: “In this farewell / There’s no blood / There’s no alibi / ‘Cause I’ve drawn regret / From the truth / Of a thousand lies”

Tell Me You Love Me by Demi Lovato

I chose this because I think Tim is fucked up by the neglect he suffered in his childhood. I think parts of this song can be directed at his parents, the Batfam, his partner(s). He’s afraid that they’ll leave him and he needs the reassurance. Whether or not he gets it is another matter but kdsjfjkdsah. Really, I think this is all just what he’s thinking, and NOT what he’s saying. He needs the reassurance, yes, but he’s not actually asking for it because he doesn’t know how

Fave Lyric: “Bad at love, no, I’m not good at this”

bellyache by Billie Eilish

When I first added this to his playlist I somehow didn’t realize it was about a murderer but dkjfhkjshjkah whatever I’m keeping it. Let’s just go with this is a song about being fucked up (in whatever sense u wanna take that as) and it’s not happy? But like the first one, it’s upbeat and positive. I think the happy sound hiding the less pretty truth is something that explains Tim a lot. Also its a bop and he might sing along to it

Fave Lyric: “Everything I do / The way I wear my noose / Like a necklace / I wanna make ‘em scared / Like I could be anywhere / Like I’m reckless”

Migraine by Twenty One Pilots

Just Another Song About Tim’s Abysmal Mental Health

Fave Lyric: “Behind my eyelids are islands of violence / My mind ship-wrecked / This is the only land my mind could find / I did not know it was such a violent island / Full of tidal waves, suicidal crazed lions / They’re trying to eat me, blood running down their chin / And I know that I can fight or I can let the lion win / I begin to assemble what weapons I can find / 'Cause sometimes to stay alive you gotta kill your mind”

Fake Love by Drake

I hate Drake but kjdsfkjdsfhajh this goes back to a few things. His celebrity and how he’s seen/treated differently by others because of it, his low self view and the paranoia that people aren’t really there for him no matter what the truth might be, how he sees things others wouldn’t, his relationships with people like Damian and Bruce. I think he’s more forgiving than this song would imply, so maybe this is also for that AU Tim I mentioned above???

Fave Lyric: “I’ve been down so long it look like up to me / They look up to me / I got fake people showin’ fake love to me / Straight up to my face, straight up to my face”

Six Feet Under by Billie Eilish

TIMKON TIMKON TIMKON. Post Kon’s death TimKon and Tim is grieving and trying to forget bc it’s so painful!!!!!!

Fave Lyric: “Our love is six feet under / I can’t help but wonder / If our grave was watered by the rain / Would roses bloom? / Could roses bloom / Again?”

Flaws by Bastille

Idek, I feel like this could be how he could view his relationship with Steph, Cass, Damian, Bart, Dick??? Anyone? Just feeling like he hides his flaws and how he feels, and they don’t really (or at least, he thinks they don’t), and he likes that.

Fave Lyric: “There’s a hole in my soul / I can’t fill it, I can’t fill it / There’s a hole in my soul / Can you fill it? Can you fill it?”

do re mi by blackbear

I’m mostly joking when I say this but this is how he feels about Ra’s al Ghul. It doesn’t fit exactly, bc Tim and Ra’s were NOT together ever at any point, but this song is about being annoyed by someone you have a history with and wishing you’d never known them. Which is how I feel Tim should feel about Ra’s. lol

Fave Lyric: “If I could go back to that day we met / I probably would’ve stayed in bed / You wake up everyday and make me feel like I’m incompetent”

Bored by Billie Eilish

I really think this is Tim talking to his parents. Like, when he’s a kid, or when he’s older and looking back, he’s thinking “I did everything I could, it wasn’t enough, and I know it’s not fair but I can’t do anything about it.” I think this song is supposed to be romantic but I’ve never heard it that way skdjfkjsdhakjh I just always think about Tim, home alone and thinking about his parents.

Fave Lyric: “I’m not afraid anymore / What makes you sure you’re all I need? / Forget about it / When you walk out the door and leave me torn / You’re teaching me to live without it / Bored, I’m so bored, I’m so bored, so bored”

Rose-Colored Boy by Paramore

This one is like… everyone else seems to have an easier time being optimistic and positive than Tim does, in his mind. Idk I don’t have much to say kdsjfhsdjkah

Fave Lyric: “Hearts are breaking, wars are raging on / And I have taken my glasses off / You got me nervous / I’m right at the end of my rope / A half-empty girl / Don’t make me laugh, I’ll choke”

King of the Clouds by Panic! At The Disco

This is mostly because it’s a bop and Tim would like it. But also…this is a song about dimensional travel (apparently) and having ambitions that seem lofty, both of which I think Tim can definitely understand!!

Fave Lyric: “And when I fall to rise with stardust in my eyes / In the backbone of night, I’m combustible / Dust in the fire when I can’t sleep a wink, I’m too tired / This old world, this old world”

#tim drake #song analysis #asks #idk what to tag this as #meta #???#this is 20 of them!! if u want more lmk (there are still like 40 more songs I think)#but im done for the day ksdjfkdash #its so hard to type like this #Anonymous

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