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jinnie-ret · 8 months

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destined at the VMAs

stray kids x musician!reader (platonic)

genre: fluff

content warnings: none.

word count: 1.7k

summary: a musician under the name CLOVER is starstruck when she meets her favourite group Stray Kids at the VMAs, only to find that they're big fans of her too

This imagine is written in first person under the name of an artist called CLOVER.

As voted for by you! Make sure follow to have a say in regular polls for what I'll post next!

Or if you have any ideas you want to see them you can send in asks!

Hope you enjoy!

MAIN MASTERLIST

"Okay guys, I'm really excited right now because we have the one and only CLOVER, all the way from the UK and making her debut American television appearance here at the VMAs!" an interviewer for Entertainment Tonight introduced me to the camera whilst other celebrities arrived and walked the pink carpet.

"Hi!" I greeted her politely and waved at the camera. I felt so excited to be here at the VMAs, my first time in America and it was on such a well known awards show, I couldn't believe it. I hoped my fans liked my bold type of outfit too, a beautiful black gown with a daring slit up the side where it rested against my thigh.

"Welcome to the US, CLOVER! We're so happy to have you here, how are you finding it?" the interviewer asked me, holding the mic out.

"It's big. America is so much bigger than I expected it to be, especially compared to back home," I said with wide eyes, wearing a shocked expression on face which made the woman opposite me laugh.

"That's right, you've come all the way over here from England, right? How excited are you to perform here?" she asked me.

"I'm incredibly nervous, if I'm honest haha. There's so much talent here so I just hope that people will enjoy what I bring too," I smile, wiping my hands down on my dress awkwardly. I really hoped the camera didn't somehow pick up the sight of my sweaty palms.

"Well I've seen some of your performances before and let me just say, I'm a big fan myself!" she confessed, which made me heart feel warm.

"Wow thank you so much!" I blushed, hands clasped together now. I really couldn't stop fidgeting with them.

"I mean, you've been nominated for best new artist! That must feel amazing right?" she smiled at me.

"It really does, to be nominated for an award, let alone perform here is just beyond my imagination. Like Ice Spice, Peso Pluma, Pink Pantheress my UK sister is nominated too! It's crazy!" I exclaim, hoping I'd meet my fellow UK artist too, not realising that later on I'd meet a different honorary British artist.

"Speaking of, is there anyone else you're excited to see here today?" the interviewer leaned towards me, like she was ready for any gossip.

"Wow, pretty much everyone!" I laughed, "but I'd have to say Demi for sure! I'm excited to see them perform I've loved their music for years! Also Maneskin and there's Stray Kids and TXT too! I'm so excited for Stray Kids oh my god..." I ramble, waving my hands in the air as I talk excitedly, unable to hide my big smile.

"Stray Kids certainly seem to be stealing everyone's hearts this year, I spoke to them earlier, and... wow," the interviewer laughed with me, and it felt like having a conversation with a friend at that point.

"I don't blame you haha," I giggled.

"Well, thank you so much for chatting with us, CLOVER, we'll see you out there later tonight, best of luck!" she smiled at me before turning to the camera and ending the interview. I waved bye to her and the camera and walked round the corner, heading backstage with my manager and taking a deep breath in.

It all felt so surreal, I was sure I caught a glance of Taylor Swift and waved and smiled at her, shocked to have gotten the same actions returned and squealed, unable to help myself as I jumped around and bumped into someone behind me.

"I'm so sorry!"

"Oh my god sorry!"

We both apologised at the same time. And when I turned around to see who it was I thought I was going to spontaneously combust right there and then.

It was Felix of Stray Kids.

"Felix?!"

"CLOVER?!"

What. The. He knew who I was?

"Oh, you know Stray Kids?" he asked me shocked, an adorable expression on his face as he helped me rebalance myself, I was wearing heels after all.

"I should be asking you the same question, I've been listening to you guys for years!" I gushed, probably embarrassing myself a bit but Felix didn't seem to react to that, seeming to get excited himself.

"You have? Wow... Stray Kids are such huge fans of your music, we really love your songs," Felix happily explained to me, still holding onto my hands as he waved them excitedly.

"No way... that's insane!" I couldn't put everything I was thinking into words.

"Tell me about it," he laughed, pulling his hands away to scratch the back of his neck.

"Felix!" the other members walked over, not noticing me at first, which was lucky otherwise they would have seen me looking at them like they were ghosts.

"We've been looking everywhere for you!" Bang Chan patted his shoulders, speaking in Korean and then turned to see me, a shocked expression painting his face.

"Sorry I didn't mean to be keeping Felix," I then spoke back in Korean, some of the members seeming to jump back in shock at hearing their native language.

"Woah, CLOVER?! Wait, you speak Korean?!" Han bounced on his feet, beaming at me.

"Yeah my best friend is Korean so I ended up learning it, definitely helped when watching you guys. This is just like a dream, I can't tell you how amazing it is to meet you guys!" I felt myself getting almost hyper by seeing them in front of me.

"We could say the same to you! We're all big fans of you!" Changbin stepped up, whilst some of the other members stood back nervously.

"If I'm being honest I didn't believe Felix when he told me that," I shook my head in disbelief.

"Well believe it now," Seungmin laughed, seeming to feel more comfortable now.

"I'm so hyped to see you guys perform tonight! How are you feeling?" I asked them, feeling more confident now as the ice had been broken.

"I think we're nervous but we're going to do our best out there," Lee Know shyly admitted.

"We could do with some words of encouragement, could you say Stray Kids hwaiting?" Han asked cheekily.

"Han we've just met her, don't scare her away," Hyunjin did his iconic laugh.

"It's fine, it's fine haha. Stray Kids hwaiting!!!" I cheered for them and they all clapped for me after, making me blush and hide my face.

"Your Korean is really good," Jeongin commented.

"Thank you, well, like I said, it's all thanks to my friend. She's so cute, she'd cheer me on before every gig I used to do like, CLOVER hwaiting!!" I share, hoping they wouldn't find it weird how I'm rambling on.

"Hahaha, that's cute, is she a stay too?" Bang Chan asked hopefully.

"Oh, big time! She's the reason I got to know your music and watch your variety stuff too," I nod back at him. They all let out sounds of amazement.

"You watch our other stuff?" Changbin asked shocked.

"Yeah! I'm a big fan of SKZ Code!" I admit sheepishly.

"Wow that's a good friend you got there," Seungmin nods, smirking.

"She's the best, she's supported me through my music the whole time," I grin, thinking about my best friend. I wish she could have come to America with me but she was too busy.

"Are you planning on releasing any new music soon?" Felix asks me.

"Well, I'll let you in on a secret, I'm working on some right now!" I fake whisper to them, but it didn't really matter. I was speaking to them in Korean at this point so it wasn't very likely anyone backstage would expose the fact.

"You are? Wow I'm looking forward to it already, you have such a unique sound," Han praises my music, making me a hold a hand over my heart.

"Wow that honestly means a lot coming from you guys. You have such a unique sound too and it inspired me to go with the direction I really wanted to in my music," I compliment them, seeing their eyes light up.

"Thank you! Have you ever thought of collabing with another artist?" Changbin asks, seeming to be hinting at something as Minho pats his shoulder warningly.

"Well, now that you've brought it up, I've always wanted to make some songs with you guys," I confess shyly, blushing even more when they all ask 'really'?!

"That would be amazing, I think we could create something great together," Bang Chan nods, a more professional tone as he thinks about their music.

"Perfect! Well I have to go now, but I could get our managers to exchange numbers?" I say, realising I should be getting ready to find my seat.

"We'd love that!" Felix claps his hands together happily.

"Great! Well it was lovely to meet you guys!" I wave as I start to walk away, before I turn snack around quickly and call over to them, "oh, by the way Han, thanks for representing us British Stays, your accent is the best," I daringly tease, giggling to myself as I walk away.

I felt like I was on cloud nine. I met my favourite people in the world... and we were going to try and collab together. It really doesn't get better than this.

Except it does.

For my performance I had changed into a beautiful green dress to match the nature filled scene behind me, performing one of my songs called 'Salvia'. It was a reassuring song to comfort a partner, before the scene behind me started showing dying flowers as I transitioned into a song called 'Rotten to the Core', the pure opposite of the first song. As I ended the performance I saw Stray Kids up and applauding for me, and I smiled and nodded in their direction.

Then I saw them perform too. And the remix they did blew my mind. I was so happy they were getting recognition from other artists too, who may not have seen them before. And I returned my admiration for their performance as I gave a standing ovation of my own, seeing them look my way too.

It all felt like a dream. The future was really looking up, especially with a collaboration with my favourite people in the midst of it all.

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whaledenwtf · 5 months

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I'm such a sucker for Gale, and I want some fluff about him, maybe like what happened after or during the wedding, what would it look like? Like what would our man do

I'm such a sucker for Gale too, he's just baby. I'm not too familiar with Act 3 and the new epilogues they added but I'll do my baby justice. I'll be writing this with a female reader, so if you'd like GN! Reader I can try rewriting it.

As always, I try to keep Gale in character as much as possible. If you enjoy this fic, consider sharing it! I have requests open, which you can send here: Link I have a Masterlist for Baldur's Gate 3 works I've written, which also has a list of what I will and won't write here: Link

Gale x AFAB!Reader - Wedding Bells

Warnings: AFAB!Reader, Fluff, Mentions of Anxiety, Self-Deprecation (Poor Gale), Mentions of Mystra (Mystra when I catch you Mystra), Minor Angst if you squint.

WORD COUNT: 869

Gods he was so nervous. He kept pacing back and forth, subconsciously playing with his hands.

"Are you having regrets Mr. Dekarios?" He is snapped out of his reverie by Tara, who's watching him from a distance.

"Regrets? I could never regret my relationship with (Y/N), Tara. I am just... nervous. I don't want her to change her mind, is all." He tells her honestly. Tara struts closer to him, tail swaying behind her.

"I believe you are overthinking, Mr. Dekarios. After all, don't you think she would have changed her mind before the wedding day?" He ponders that for a moment.

"I suppose you may be right, Tara. However, I've come to realize there is no such luck for a fool like me. She may have changed her mind and is running out now-" To emphasize his point, he looks out the window to see if there is a runaway bride. He exhales in relief when he doesn't see you running off. Tara scoffs.

"Are you sure you won't be the one who runs out? Show some self-respect Mr. Dekarios. You are incredibly talented and a good friend. She loves you, in case you had forgotten." Tara sits, her wings twitching.

He looks away from the window, only seeing the wedding party seated in the rows and rows of seats, alongside your companions who were interacting with one another. The door opens, and Gale's mother walks in.

"Oh thank Mystra! My little boy is getting married- I was starting to get worried." Morena wails out, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. Gale rolls his eyes.

"Have you so little faith in me, mother?" She huffs, squinting at him.

"You were a recluse, Gale. A mother tends to worry when her son is aging without another by their side. I just want you happy." She tells him. He looks down, feeling guilty for worrying his mother.

"I am sorry-" Morena shakes her head.

"All is in the past now-" She claps her hands. She walks closer, giving him a once over, brushing non-existent dust off his shoulders. "I am very proud of you." She tells him quietly. He grips her in a tight hug, like a child would when they were scared. She caresses his back comfortingly, and he is filled with a sense of calmness. All his previous fears and anxieties dissipate. The door opens again. Morena lets go of Gale, giving him some space.

"Just coming in to check in. Am I disturbing something?" Gale hears your voice. Before he can take a glimpse at you, he turns around, eyes screwed shut.

"It is bad luck to see the bride before the aisle!" He shouts out. All the women giggle at him. You begin walking forward, smiling at Morena and Tara.

"We will leave you two alone. Come, Tara." They leave, closing the door behind them.

"Turn around, sweetheart. Who needs luck or gods, when we have each other?" You tell him, standing behind him. He sighs, turning around, eyes still screwed shut. You chuckle, taking his face in your hand.

"Open your eyes, Gale." He opens one eye, and his jaw drops. You were stunning; probably the most beautiful thing he has ever laid his eyes upon.

"Oh-" He opens both eyes, to look you up and down, multiple times.

"You're beautiful." He whispers, eyes watering. It never felt so real until this moment, seeing you devote yourself to him. You wipe the single tear that leaves his misty eyes. He blinks multiple times, willing himself not to cry.

"You don't look too bad yourself." You tease him, grinning.

"I wanted to check on you, see if you had changed your mind?" He looks into your eyes, seeing your honesty.

"Why would I change my mind?" You shrug.

"We don't need fancy ceremonies or gold rings to show our love to one another. All I need is you by my side." He takes your hand, kissing it.

"I can never regret anything I do if it involves you, my love." You giggle at his words.

"How are you feeling?" You ask him sweetly. He bites his lip.

"I am- was very nervous. For a moment I thought you would want to cancel the wedding." You shake your head.

"I love you, Gale. I'm not going anywhere. The tadpole couldn't keep us apart; nor the Netherese Orb; and definitely not some goddess." You end the sentence bitterly. He chuckles, putting his arms around you, kissing your forehead.

"We can do this, together." He says out loud.

"Together." You whisper, leaning into his neck and kissing him there.

BONUS: You close the door behind you, leaving Gale to his thoughts. You turn to see Astarion and Wyll waiting for you. You jump, holding a hand to your heart as they scared you.

"Gods! Don't sneak up on me like that." They both chuckle.

"Did he cry?" Astarion asks excitedly. You chuckle, nodding.

"HA! Pay up Ravengard." Wyll sighs, handing over a pouch of gold to Astarion.

"I knew that sap would cry. Shouldn't have bet against me." Wyll rolls his eye.

"Alright Astarion." Wyll tells him. You smile at the two, before pulling them away from the door.

#fanfic #fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #gale x reader #baldurs gate gale #gale bg3 #fluff #request

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racinggirl · 10 months

Text

unspoken words || max verstappen 1

type: one shot pairing: max verstappen x reader word count: 3.5k summary: admitting your feelings isn't that easy, especially when the man you're having feelings for is your brother's best friend... requested: yes! I've combined multiple requests for this fic, simply because I feel like they all fit well together! ''PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE write something for max thank you I love you & hey! can i request something with max that's angst to fluff or possibly hurt/comfort? feel like that trope really suits max for whatever reason?? anyways thank you! + i love your writing <;3 & driverXbestfriends!sister with max and daniel’s sister plsss & max verstappen, enemies to lovers, drivers x driver or driver x driver/bestfriend!sister & Could you do one where the reader is drunk out of her mind coming back from a party/club then maybe she throws up and max just comforts her and helps her shower to get clean?'' requests are CLOSED!!! warnings: angst, alcohol, reader being drunk, anxiety (a little?), protective!max. notes: HOOOLY FCK this took long. I think I've been working on it for literal MONTHS. However, it's finished, and I really hope you like it. Please leave a comment or even a reblog, because it's really something that keeps me motivated other than a like. Don't read me wrong, I love to get likes, it's just that a comment feels a lot more personal! Also, it's been so long, I've had to look up one of my older fics to see how I used to make this set up thingy. It's been way too long and I've missed you all <3 P.S. Did you guess correctly who the brother was?

My masterlist

Formula 1, something you had grown up with ever since your brother decided it was his passion, his world. And it slowly became yours too. Accompanying him at races became a monthly habit, and even though you were still in college, you always found a way to support your brother from the garages in the pitlane. Starting in the Toro Rosso garage, making your way to the Redbull garage. Renault was the next place you’d find yourself, and it all ended last year, in the McLaren garages.

It was a time of uncertainty for both Daniel and your family, as you knew how much love your brother had for the motorsports. He always mentioned that he’d rather live racing, than race living, because that’s what, according to him, wasn’t the goal in life. You had to enjoy every moment of your life, something he would often refer to as ‘enjoy the butterflies’.

The uncertainty soon ended when Daniel told you he was going back to Redbull. ‘’But you must keep it quiet, little one.’’ He told you with a smirk plastered on his face. ‘’Oh my god, are you for real? That’s incredible, Dandan! I’m so proud of you!’’ That was your first reaction, because you were beyond excited for your brother. Even if it was as a reserve driver, you couldn’t obtain your excitement.

It wasn’t just because of Daniel you were a Redbull fan, but ever since 2016, you had secretly started to admire the team more and more. Sure, your brother had always been your idol, and you couldn’t help but feel an intense rush of pride every time he got behind the wheel. But your attention wasn’t solely focussed on him.

Max Verstappen, currently one of the best drivers on the grid, and one of your brothers’ best friends, was the reason you could feel your heart pounding against your chest once you stepped foot back into the navy-blue garages. You and Max had known each other for quite a few years now, ever since he joined the Redbull team back in 2016. He was a few years older than you, and your admiration for him slowly grew into something more.

His talent, charm, and his fierce determination were something you found yourself captivated by, and it only grew more every time you saw him. But you were just Daniel’s little sister, at least you thought.

Monaco 2023, the Grand Prix of Europe, where the high class, fancy people wandering the paddock made you feel like a teenage schoolgirl on your first day of university. Even though you were twenty-three years old, and couldn’t complain about the money you had, you were never one to dress like you were attending a royal wedding.

You were watching the cars, and then looked at your brother, who was dressed in his Redbull polo, seated on the pitwall whilst you were standing in the back of the garage, him watching the screens. As soon as the camera turned to capture the Australian man on the pitwall, you could hear the crowd go absolutely wild. They loved him, and so did you.

After the race, you made your way over towards your brother’s apartment, changing your outfit for something more afterparty worthy. That’s where you were going, and you knew it was one of the few chances you had of being close to Max.

Realising the feelings you had for Max were more than just friendly, brought a bittersweet taste to those afterparty’s, because you knew Max probably didn’t feel the same about you. You always did your best to hide your emotions, burying them deep inside so that nobody, not even Max, could catch a glimpse of your true feelings. It was a delicate balancing act, pretending to be just friends while your heart yearned for something more.

‘’Hey, congrats on your win.’’ You embraced the Dutch driver as he was quick in placing his arms around your body, pulling you in for a friendly hug.

‘’Thanks, y/n, I’m glad you’re here.’’ He partially shouted over the music, your cheeks heating up at the thought of what he meant, or what you thought he meant.

You quickly shook that thought away and nodded at him, shooting your shiny smile, the one you and your brother had in common, and you pulled yourself away from his hug.

As the night went on, both you and Max were sharing stories and naked truths, finding yourself on a conversation that went beyond your usual banter. The alcohol loosened your inhibitions, blurring the lines between friendship and something more. It was dangerous territory, and you both knew it.

‘’Naked truth coming.’’ He said, leaning against the wall in front of you as you stood facing him, the blue coloured cocktail in your hand. Your eyes went over his features as he licked his lips, ready to tell you one of his naked truths.

‘’I’m not going to sign a new contract after this one.’’ He smirked, watching you, looking for your response. You weren’t surprised, to be fair. You kind of did see it coming, because there have been quite some rumours going around lately. But you did feel privileged as he trusted you enough to say this. It might be due to the alcohol he had burning in his system, but you liked it, you liked this intoxicated version of Max, because this way you could be close to him, without anyone thinking anything.

‘’Your turn.’’ He smirked, stepping a little closer and you could swear you felt his body heat warming you up, even though you were still a meter apart from each other. Your mind was trying to come up with something, because you had to be careful of what to say. You wanted to tell him about your feelings, you wanted to speak the words that had been dancing on the tip of your tongue for so long now, but you couldn’t, and you hated it.

‘’I think I’m in love with one of Daniel’s friends’’ you managed to spill, avoiding his eyes as you immediately tried to wash your mouth with the alcohol in the cup you were holding. You searched for the straw with your tongue, sucking the burning liquid through the straw, all the way to your throat, as if it made your words less harsh.

‘’Really?’’ Max answered, clearly not expecting this kind of naked truth coming out of your mouth. ‘’Who?’’ He immediately shot this question after the other, wanting to know which guy stole your heart, but little did he know.

‘’Do I know him?’’ You could almost facepalm yourself at the awkwardness, because now you knew you had to lie to the world champion. ‘’No, I mean, I don’t think so…’’ you simply replied.

As you continued to avoid Max’ gaze, you felt a mixture of relief and regret for not being completely honest with him. Regret, because you wanted to tell him the truth, you didn’t want to hide your true feelings any longer, but relief, because you knew that if you would have spoken the truth, things would have become more than awkward between the two of you. Besides, what were the chances that he would feel the same way about you?

However, Max’ eyes did not leave your face, trying to study your expression for a moment, he was seemingly lost in thought. The weight of his silence was hanging in the air, and you could almost hear a pin drop. Your heart was racing with anticipation, but then he finally let out a deep breath, breaking the heavy silence.

‘’Well, whoever it is, they are a lucky person,’’ he said softly, a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place crossing his eyes. Happiness? Sadness? Jealousy? Relief? You couldn’t place it. However, you started to remind yourself that he probably wasn’t talking about you, but that it must have been a general statement, a well-intentioned compliment.

As the night wore on, the music became a distant hum, the conversations of the people around you started to fade as you let the alcohol numb your feelings. It was one way of forgetting them, or at least, not having to think of them. The tension between you and Max was heavier than before, and it was as if the universe wanted to test you, pushing you closer to the edge of admitting your true feelings.

With each sip, each passing moment, your longing for Max intensified, but the fear of rejection held you back from speaking the unspoken words. You knew that crossing that thin line of friendship with Max could change everything, although you weren’t sure if you wanted to take that risk.

As the afterparty came to an end, you stumbled out into the cool night air, the city lights blurred before your eyes as you faced reality. Max didn’t love you, and the love you had for him would forever be unspoken.

‘’There you are!’’ You heard a faint voice, a pair of arms holding you by your elbows as you saw the man in front of you. ‘’Jesus, how much alcohol have you had?’’ Daniel had a concerned yet relieved expression on his face as he embraced you in a hug.

When you entered what you thought was Daniel’s apartment, alone, you immediately located yourself on the nearest couch, laying down as your stomach started to twist and turn because of the litres of alcoholic beverages you had been consuming this night. Your hand was fumbling around in your bag the moment you felt something buzz, and without blinking, you answered the phone call you were receiving.

‘’Hello… y/n?... where are you?... hello?’’

‘’Hello,’’ you managed to croak into the phone, your voice barely audible as you fought off the dizziness and nausea that threatened to consume you. ‘’I’m… I’m at Daniel’s… apartment.’’

The voice on the other end of the line sounded frantic. It was Max. ‘’Y/n, stay there. Don’t move, I’m coming to get you.’’ His tone was laced with worry, and you could hear the urgency in his voice.

As you waited, your mind started to spin, mainly because of the alcohol, but also because of the confusion. Was Max coming over because he was genuinely concerned about your wellbeing, or was he just being a good friend to both you and Daniel?

Minutes felt like hours as you lay on the couch, your mind racing with a thousand different thoughts. Finally, you heard the sound of hurried footsteps approaching the apartment. The door swung open, and there stood Max, breathless and confused at the same time. His eyes widened as he took in your state, and he rushed to your side, concern etched deep into him.

‘’What happened, y/n? Are you okay?’’ Max’ voice was filled with genuine worry, his hands gently cradling your face as he tried to assess your condition.

You forced a weak smile, trying to make Max feel a little more at ease about the situation. ‘’I… I had a bit too much to drink. I’m sorry, Max. I didn’t mean to worry you.’’

His eyes saw straight through you, his gaze piercing into yours, his worry transitioning into a mix of frustration and tenderness. ‘’You should have known better, y/n. Drinking yourself into this state… it’s not like you.’’ His words were filled with disappointment, and you felt a stab of guilt pierce through your already shattered heart.

He helped you sit up and handed you a glass of water, his touch gentle, but you felt every nerve on your skin tingling with his touch. You couldn’t help but feel the weight of his disappointment, causing you to feel even more ashamed of what you had managed to get yourself into. It was as if your actions, your decisions to drink more alcohol than you could consume to keep a somewhat sober state, caused your friendship with Max to become even more tensed.

‘’I know,’’ you whispered, avoiding his gaze as you took a sip of water, hoping it would wash away not only the physical effects of the alcohol, but also the mistakes you had made. ‘’I’m sorry, Max. I didn’t mean to disappoint you.’’

His expression softened a little, but the tension remained. ‘’You didn’t disappoint me,’’ he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of genuine concern, but also a slight frustration. Was he frustrated with himself for making you feel as if he was disappointed, or was he frustrated with you, for putting yourself in this kind of state?

‘’I’m just worried about you, y/n. You mean a lot to me, and seeing you like this… it hurts.’’

The honesty in his words made you tear up, tears welling up in your eyes. You had been longing for a moment like this, a chance to be vulnerable with Max, but not like this. ‘’Why did you let yourself get this drunk, y/n, you’re never drunk, you hate being drunk.’’

You knew he was right, and that made you feel even worse, because he knew you so well, your friendship had grown into such a big thing, that you feared breaking it. You were scared of crossing that thin line, and losing Max, both as a friend, and possibly something more than that.

But you knew you had to spill the words, because the pain of keeping your feelings bottled up was becoming unbearable, even if the fear of rejection still lingered.

‘’I…’’ You started, trying to one by one collect the words, the words that would cause either a lot of damage, or a lot of relief. ‘’I’m sorry for everything. I just can’t hide it anymore. I’m sorry for hiding my feelings, for not being honest with you. I… I love you, Max. I’ve loved you for so long, and it’s tearing me apart. I thought maybe if I’d get wasted, I’d stop the pain in my chest, at least for this evening. Because I couldn’t bear it anymore, it hurts.’’

The room fell silent as your confession hung in the air, the weight of your emotions suffocating you. Max’ eyes widened, his gaze searching yours as if trying to decipher the truth behind your words.

‘’Y/n,’’ he whispered, his voice barely audible. ‘’I… I had no idea.’’

This could go two ways, and that mixture of hope and fear filled you up, danced within you as you waited for Max to speak again, you had to know if he felt the same way. But before he could respond, a voice broke through the tension that had been built up, slicing through the moment of vulnerability you were in right now.

‘’What’s going on here?’’ Daniel’s voice boomed from the doorway, his eyes filled with concern and confusion as he took in the scene before him.

You quickly managed to stand up, your hand rising to wipe the tears that were on your skin, the rawness of your emotions leaving you in a horrible situation right now. Max stood up as well, his gaze shifting between you and Daniel. He was lost for words, and it was evident on his face.

‘’Daniel, I…’’ you began, struggling to find the right words, how were you going to explain to him that you just confessed your feelings to one of his best mates? You didn’t have to, because your brother held his hand up, cutting you off.

‘’Not now,’’ he said firmly, his voice filled with a mix of protectiveness and disappointment. ‘’Y/n, let’s get you to bed. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.’’

And so, days went on, you explained Daniel you just drank a little too much, and that Max was there to bring you home, and waited till he would arrive home so Max could go to his own apartment. You hated lying to your brother, because you two were so close, and you felt as if the tension with Max now also elongated to you and your brother.

It was race weekend, yet again, and you and Max had avoided each other the entire week already. You never received an answer from him, after you poured your heart out, explaining to him you had been in love with him for a while now.

Every time you saw Verstappen in the paddock, you felt a pang of regret, wishing you had never revealed your true feelings. Those once unspoken words were better than the distance the two of you had now, the pain of those unspoken feelings was better than the pain you felt every time you saw the Dutch man.

It became harder to pretend everything was normal when the truth hung in the air, casting a shadow over your interactions. The once vibrant friendship between you and Max seemed to fade, replaced by awkward glances and strained conversations. The pitlane, once a place of excitement and joy, now felt suffocating, reminding you of what you could never have. Max.

As the season progressed, you found your strength in supporting your brother at Alpha Tauri and throwing yourself into your studies. You buried your emotions deep within, trying to move on from the pain of rejection. But no matter how hard you tried, thoughts of Max lingered the corners of your mind, constantly reminding you of those words that were no longer unspoken.

Months passed, and the distance between you and Max only grew wider. The dynamics within the team had shifted, mostly because Daniel was no longer in the same garages as Max was. This made you feel like an outsider, looking in. The once close group Daniel would bring you along in, was now separated, fragmented, and you longed for days when everything was simpler, when your love for Formula 1 brought you together rather than tearing you apart.

One evening, as you sat alone in Daniel’s apartment, as he was in Italy for some meetings for Alpha Tauri, you received a text message from a not unknown number. Curiosity and a glimmer of hope filled your heart as you read the words on the screen.

‘It’s Max. Can we meet and talk? I need to apologize.’

Your heart raced with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. You agreed to meet him the next day at Daniel’s apartment, knowing your brother wouldn’t be home this week anyways. He gave you full responsibility for the apartment.

When you opened the door and saw Max standing there, you couldn’t help but notice the weariness in his eyes. He looked nervous, his usually confidence replaced by vulnerability. As he walked inside the apartment, he sat down after you gestured for him to take a seat on the sofa.

‘’I’m sorry, y/n,’’ he began, his voiced laced with regret. ‘’I didn’t handle things well after you confessed your feelings. I was caught off guard, and I didn’t know how to respond. I let our friendship suffer because of it, and I’m sorry.’’

You sat up straight, taking a deep breath to maintain your somewhat calm heart. You had missed the connection you once shared with him, and hearing him acknowledge his mistakes brought a sense of relief. Even though your feelings for him were still very much apparent, you’d rather deal with that pain, than the pain of never seeing him again.

‘’I understand,’’ you whispered, your voice filled with a mixture of pain and forgiveness. ‘’It’s not easy for either of us. I never wanted to jeopardize our friendship, but the feelings became too much to bear.’’

Max reached across the couch and gently took your hand in his, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes. ‘’I’ve been doing some soul-searching, y/n. I realised that I’ve been pushing my own feelings aside because I was afraid of losing what we had. I guess you just had more balls to admit it, which made me think.’’

Your heart skipped a beat, hoping flickering within you. ‘’What are you saying, Max?’’

He took a deep breath, his grip on your hand tightening. ‘’I’m saying that I’ve come to realise how much you mean to me. I’ve been blind to the love that’s been right in front of me all this time. I don’t want to let fear hold me back anymore. I want to give us a chance.’’

The emotions you were feeling at this moment were all over the place – joy, relief, and a renewed sense of hope. The pain and regret that had haunted you for so long began to dissipate, replaced by the possibility of something beautiful.

‘’I want that too, Max. I’ve been forcing myself to get a grip and end my feelings, but I couldn’t. I’ve never stopped loving you.’’

In that moment, the weight of unspoken words lifted, and the hand Max was holding a few seconds ago found itself at his cheek. His hands slowly moved from your arms to your cheeks, pulling your face closer to his.

‘’May I?’’ He whispered, his voice so delicate, gentle, barely above a whisper. You always imagined your kiss with Max to be out of this world, but the tender feeling of his lips, the smell of his minty breath and his hands caressing your cheeks as if you were a porcelain doll were more than you could ever imagine.

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got-ticket-to-ride · 6 months

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hi sorry but do you have any soft mclennon moments to share too :') the post you made about 22 seconds of longing hurt oh my god

Sorry for the delay in reply anon. I'm actually just a corporate collar acting my way as a temporary secretary every hard day's night, jobbing like a dog, 8 days a week in an English garden to afford a tan in the rain.

Hope this finds you well! Here are 22 McLennon moments as compensation for Johnny's 22 agonizing seconds in the pining video.

1.) "I'm Happy Just to Dance with You" scene when they both looked at each other at the same time. And the director had to pan out the scene because it would've been too straight. I know dilated pupils when I see it.

2.) Inviting your favorite boy to a solo trip to Spain but you stayed in Paris because it was so romantic, sharing a bed, picking out clothes for each other, slurping all the banana shakes, you know normal roommate things according to historians.

3.) Getting a solo invitation from a hot photographer and bringing along your best boy because you are attached to the hip and can't be separated.

4.) Their need to constantly touch each other

5.) Scene in Help (1965), where John is using all his strength to carry George and Ringo's weight and not crush Paul (because boyfriend things)

6.) Holding hands for mental support during a recording. (John is needy, please forgive him)

7.) Walking Martha like a couple in 1967 - outfits coordinated and all

8.) Impressions by people who met them:

"[John and Paul] sort of had their own way of communicating. Hardly anything was spoken, they just knew what the other wanted or was getting at and they had the most amazing talent."

"He was like a different animal with Lennon. When they were together they became something else, more than just the two of them together. That communication was incredible. It was like two high-speed computers just fizzing between each other."

9.) John is hiding his cigarette behind him, because he doesn't want to bother Paul with the smoke. (You know, boyfriend things).

10.) A portrait, king and princess up front. John's thigh just casually resting on Paul's (yet again).

11.) The spider fingers during a press conference, because they are actually both 12

12.) That very flirty jam session in Austria in 1965 that was cut short, but they probably continued after anyway

13.) The way they talk about the day they met sounds like "how I met the love of my life" Happy Honeymoon <3

14.) Quote from Emerick

The lights in the studio were turned off to set the mood; the sole source of illumination was a table lamp next to the wall. The two beatles, lifelong friends and collaborators, sat on high stools, facing each other, studying each other’s lips intently for phrasing.

15.) When they answer each other's songs

Paul in Can't Buy Me Love: "If it makes you feel alright?"

John: "I Feel Fine"

17.) “I could even hear what they were saying off-mike; ‘Oh Paul, you’re so cute tonight’ was met with the reply, ‘Sod off, Lennon.’” — Joan Baez on accompanying the Beatles to their concert in Red Rocks Amphitheatre, Denver. 26 August 1964

18.) Paul looking at John like he wants to eat him later after finishing with "I'm a Loser"

19.) Giving instructions on how John's hair needs to "look"

20.) Paul acting as John's walking stick

21.) Paul's heart eyes during this 1966 conference (also that lip bite... eat you later?):

22.) John the worried boyfriend who checks on Paul in the middle of an interview and doesn't believe him when he just says : "oh, yeah..."

John internally: "come on now, why aren't you laughing at my joke babe? You're unwell!!!"

The Bottles over and out.

Thank you for this ask. This was quite fun! Would love to hear your thoughts too <3

#Asks #Mclennon #John and Paul #John Lennon #Paul Mccartney #funny #The Beatles #gttr-beatles

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zepskies · 8 months

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How would Beau comfort reader who’s gotten home from work and is feeling overwhelmed and sooky? I’m in need of comfort my the cutie patootie pls and thank you beloved 🫶🥺

Hello, my love!

I know it's been a while since you requested this @chernayawidow, but I’m so sorry you’re feeling down. It’s my pleasure to fulfill this prompt for you! 😘💞

AN: This is sort of a sequel to “Didn’t Mean to Stay,” but can be read as a stand-alone.

Word Count: 3,000 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, lots of hurt/comfort, fluff, and feels.

Imagine: Beau gives you the support you need.

You heaved a sigh while climbing up the short flight of stairs to your apartment. Why the hell you decided to live on the second floor, you had no idea…

Okay, mainly for the safety aspect of being a single woman living alone, but at least for the past year, you hadn’t been all that single (or alone, for that matter).

Seeing Beau’s truck in the parking lot reminded you that your boyfriend was already home from work. It was rare that you got here after him, but you perked up a little.

I hope he got something for dinner. Your stomach began to rumble at even the first stray thought of food. After the ridiculous day you’d had, you’d happily eat your weight in just about anything.

A hearty sandwich, Chinese lo mien, a whopping burger with fries…hell, you’d eat a whole damn bag of pizza rolls. As long as it was hot and you didn’t have to cook it.

Once you managed to insert your key and unlock the apartment, immediately there was too much sound coming from the living room. Guns and blasting and whoops and hollers. It all grated on your ears and your frayed psyche.

You grimaced as you locked the door behind you.

“Are we being invaded?!” you called.

Mercifully, the cacophony ceased as you walked into the living room and found your boyfriend with a sheepish smile. On the TV was an old western classic, The Magnificent Seven.

Typical, you thought. Your Texan cowboy loved his westerns.

“Sorry. Too loud?” he asked.

“Just a touch,” you replied.

“Well, I’m glad you're home.” Beau nodded at the TV. “Was gonna ask you what your Netflix password is.”

“What, don’t tell me you settled for 1960s cowboys?” you quipped.

You dumped your purse on the coffee table and sunk onto the couch next to him. Beau slid an arm around your waist and pulled you in closer. You obliged by shucking off your shoes and resting against him, with your head on his shoulder. You let out a long sigh.

“Well, that was my fallback plan. See, damn Netflix booted me out and I’m really gearing up for that new season of Cake or Cake,” Beau said, with a somewhat childish smile that almost succeeded in tugging your lips upwards as well. Your brows drew together.

“Cake or…oh my God. You mean Is It Cake?” you asked. You nearly slapped yourself with your own hand as it came up to cover your eyes. Your shoulders shook with silent laughter.

“Ah, yeah. That one.” Beau grinned.

“I just can’t figure out how I keep guessing so wrong," he continued. "It looks like a hat. It should be a hat. How the hell is it actually cake? These guys are just so damn talented, I’ll tell ya. I mean, I’ve eaten my fair share of quality cake, but I ain’t never eaten a hat cake…though that does sound good to me, now that I think about it. Heh, I could finally say, ‘if that ain’t real, I’ll eat my own hat.’ And I’d actually be able to take a bite.”

Now, normally you found boyfriend’s diatribes incredibly endearing. Beau was a talker, and you appreciated having him with you at social gatherings. Not only was he great at connecting with people (something you very much admired), but the man was damn good at filling a silence.

Today, however, he was feeding the headache pulsing behind your eyes. You loved him dearly. Yet you were tempted to dig your nails into your own arm just to stop yourself from snapping at him to please, stop talking.

“Speakin’ of food, that reminds me. My stomach’s damn near ready to eat itself.” He eyed you. “What’s for dinner, baby?”

Your hand slid from your face and slapped onto your leg. Your head slowly turned to him.

“I don’t know, Beau. What’d you cook?” you said tartly.

It was an effort, considering how comfortable you were while tucked against him, but you moved his arm off your hip and lifted your heavy-feeling body off the couch. Shaking your head, you trudged a path over to your room.

You didn’t see it, but Beau frowned. Though you heard him follow after you. You did your best to go about your business, unbuttoning your pants and starting on your blouse. You were just so damn tired, and probably still anxious. Even your hands were trembling and fumbling with the buttons.

Still, you sensed him coming closer, saw his sock-covered feet out of the corner of your eye. The rest of him was comfortably dressed in sweatpants and a wool sweater you bought for him last month; he was getting better, but still acclimating to Montana winters.

“You’ve been here all this time,” you grumbled. “You see how late I’m coming in, and you don’t think, hey, my girl’s gonna be tired. Why don’t I figure out how to work the stove so she doesn’t have to worry about feeding my six-foot-ass, bottomless pit—”

Beau’s hands stilled yours, and he took over unbuttoning your blouse to help you. He bent his head enough to catch your eyes, smiling a little at your grumpy face.

“All right, all right. I see your point,” he said. “You had a bitch of day, huh?”

“The longest of my damn life,” you said. The stress of each moment played behind your eyes. So much that they stung with unshed tears when you raised your gaze to meet his.

Beau’s brows furrowed in sympathy. He paused in what he was doing to stroke your cheek and press a tender kiss to your forehead.

“And I wanna hear about it, but first, you go take a nice long shower,” he said. “What do you feel like eating?”

“Food,” you said petulantly. But he was being too sweet for you to be all that annoyed with him. A reluctant smile was growing across your lips. Beau smirked.

“You in the mood for Italian? Chinese? Maybe feeling a little adventurous and wanna try that Greek place down the street?” he suggested. “I think they deliver.”

By now he’d worked your blouse open. His hands were finding their way along the curve of your waist, smoothly across your skin, then meeting at the small of your back. He pressed the heel of one hand there, where he knew your shitty desk chair often made you ache.

You gripped his strong arms for support and leaned into him. You let out a sigh and rested your cheek against his chest, where he dropped another kiss on the top of your head.

“Greek sounds good, actually,” you confessed.

“Mmm, hell yeah. You want chicken, steak, or lamb on your gyro?” he asked. You felt the reverberation of his hum, and it was weirdly soothing. Though his question reminded you of one of your favorite movies that you too often quoted to him: My Big Fat Greek Wedding.

“What you mean he don’t eat no meat?” you said with a giggle. Beau’s lips moved to your forehead, and you felt the shape of his smile.

“It’s okay, I make lamb,” you both said together.

He chuckled and held you a bit tighter, secure and comforting. “All right. Lamb it is…you think they got cake on the menu?”

When you laughed, it was muffled by his sweater.

After a hot shower, good food, and three episodes of Is It Cake later, you were falling asleep on your corner of the couch.

All through dinner, Beau had listened to you vent about your day. About the problems your coworkers had hoisted on you to solve in the midst of a massive project you were already tackling. How your boss then blamed you for not coming to her first before you overloaded yourself, and how you’d very seriously contemplated going to HR before you figured just dealing with it would cause you less grief in the end.

Your boyfriend listened and gave his two cents, both supportive and fair. That was another thing you liked about him; he was always fair.

Now, he roused you out of your drowsy state when his arms wrapped around your frame and lifted you up.

You whined in protest. “Whaaat? Don’t move me.”

“Nope, you’re goin’ to bed,” he said, in his sheriff’s voice that boded no argument. You grumbled, but you still snuggled closer to his chest and pressed your sleepy face into his neck.

Smirking, he walked you into the bedroom and laid you down on your side of the bed. He came to your place often enough that he now had his own side, complete with his own nightstand and a couple of drawers of your dresser, even a bit of closet space.

You really should’ve just told him to move the hell in already, but you weren’t like Beau. He was a man of action. He processed things quickly and made decisions just as fast. His job demanded him to be that way.

You tended to drag your feet. You also tended to worry, and weigh pros and cons, and you were cautious by nature. Even dating this man had been a slow process, for which he’d been very patient with you. (And you with him, especially in the beginning as he learned to open up to you.)

The evidence was plain to see, as he raised the blankets and helped you roll underneath them. You just took him by surprise when you grabbed the front of his sweater and pulled him down with you.

“Hey!” he laughed. He had to brace himself against the mattress before he crushed you. His knees fell on either side of your hips while your arms twined around his neck.

“You’re a wily one, even half-asleep,” he remarked. You smiled and threaded your fingers through his soft brown hair.

“Like a rattlesnake in the tall grass,” you teased. In fairness, the two of you had gotten into watching David Attenborough's nature documentaries.

Beau’s brows raised, his smile deepening.

“Oh yeah? Better not mess around then,” he chuckled. “I might just get bit.”

You snorted. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You leaned up until your lips were nearly brushing his. Beau’s eyes lowered to your face, taking in all the things that felt more like home than his little trailer near the woods.

Just before you would’ve closed the small breadth of distance, you veered away from his mouth and went for his neck instead. He even flinched at the tease of your teeth playfully biting him.

"You little vixen!" He laughed deeply as he unwound your arms from his neck. He pinned you down to the bed and pressed his hips down into yours over the sheets. But it was his claiming lips that stopped you from fighting back.

Your shoulders trembled with giggles that he swallowed up, kiss after kiss. Your eyes closed as he dragged the sheets down away from your body. His hands caressed you through your thin tank top, brushing over a hardened nipple with the back of his hand, then squeezing your breast through the fabric.

You sighed into his mouth. “I know I kind of started this, but I’m really tired, baby…”

“Who says you gotta do anything?” rumbled his rich voice.

A tremor of heat ran through you. Even with your eyes closed, your exhausted body responded to his touch. His lips drew a hot, wet path down your neck, all while his hands did sinfully good things, sliding under your tank top and gliding against your skin. You let him take it all the way off, followed by your pajama pants and cotton panties, though he paused to squeeze your ass in appreciation.

“Someone’s been doing squats,” he noted, grinning down at you.

“Nah, just an extra slice of that honey cake,” you retorted. Apparently, the Greeks liked honey on everything.

Beau’s head tilted. “Huh. Well, I do like me some cake.”

You laughed, then jolted with a yelp when he slapped a bare cheek.

But you couldn’t just lay idle when he started on his own clothes. You sat up and helped him raise the sweater up and over his shoulders, but he stopped you.

“I mean it. You just lie back and relax,” he said, giving you a charming grin. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes; he was just too damn good to you.

While he finished taking off the sweater, your hands drifted down to the waistband of his pants. You caressed the hardening length of him, earning a hiss and a groan from him.

“Can’t I just…” you tried.

With difficulty, Beau grabbed your wrist. He raised a brow at you and guided you back down.

“For once, I’m ‘a need you to listen to me,” he said, kissing your cheek and then the other side of your neck.

You breathed a laugh, but it caught on a moan as his fingers brushed through your wet folds. He made a sound of approval. And those nimble fingers gathered some of your wetness and began circling slowly over your clit.

You sucked in a breath and arched against him. You even whimpered a little as his free hand wound through your hair, giving him further access to your neck. He hummed against your skin and grazed his teeth under your ear.

“I gotcha, baby. Whenever you need it,” he said, low and steady. You gripped his arms for dear life as two of his fingers slipped deep inside you. You panted into his neck, rocked your hips mostly in time with his fingers as they twisted and pulsed around your tightening walls. His thumb rubbed against your throbbing clit.

“Please,” you whispered into his neck, squeezing your eyes shut. “Want you inside me.”

“We’re gettin’ there,” Beau nodded. He was breathing harder too, just from anticipation. The sounds you were making, the way you were squeezing his hand from the inside had him painfully hard.

“Now,” you insisted. Your hands moved to grip his hair, and your lips met his in a devouring kiss.

Beau matched your passion with closed eyes and furrowed brows. He’d had a plan for you at the start of this, but what kind of man would he be if he didn’t abide by your wishes?

So he withdrew his fingers from your slick pussy, even though you uttered a shuddering breath. It took everything you had within you to remain still and resting against the pillows as you caught your breath. You wanted to wrestle down his sweatpants yourself and show your boyfriend how appreciative you could be.

But you also appreciated what he was trying to do. You watched him with tired, but still hungry eyes as he kicked off the pants and the boxer briefs and returned to you, bracing a forearm above your head after he spread your legs and raised up your knees.

He lowered himself between the warm cradle of your thighs and kissed down your chest, licked between the valley of your breasts.

You arched up again when his tongue found your nipple, swirling around it, and finally taking it between his teeth. His hips rolled against yours, making his cock press against your core teasingly.

“Beau, for the love of God,” you moaned.

He chuckled. “Maybe you oughta learn how to be patient.”

You grabbed his bearded face between both hands and raised him up to you. He noted your challenging brow, but also your smile.

“Maybe you shouldn’t tease the rattlesnake,” you replied.

Beau laughed and ducked his forehead against yours. “Okay, darlin’. I’m sorry.”

He nosed at your cheek, angling for a kiss. You tipped your head back and welcomed his lips, especially when his tongue slipped past to tangle with yours. His forearm was braced above your head, but his free hand left your hip to line himself up to your entrance.

Another shudder went through your body as he finally slid home inside you. The shape and feeling of his cock was familiar as it stretched your inner walls, and you caught his moan in your mouth.

Your legs wrapped around his hips and squeezed, forcing him in deeper. His eyes screwed shut as he lost focus for a moment. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of the feeling of you, or the sound of your voice, or the way you trusted him, but still tried to give as much as you took.

He pulled out nearly all the way, slowly sliding back in so you’d feel every inch. You clenched on him as a tremble ran through your body.

You uttered a broken gasp of his name that spearheaded goosebumps across his skin. And his next movements were faster, though just as deep.

He followed the encouragements of your voice, especially when he shifted his hips at an angle he knew would make you writhe. His fingers stroking your already sensitive clit, in time with his last wild thrusts, had you threatening to rip out a chunk of his hair. Instead, you gasped in his ear and dug your fingers into his hips.

His own release followed yours shortly after; he could only resist you squeezing the life out of him from the inside out for so long. And you held him afterwards, even though he still had a trembling arm braced above you.

Your hands smoothed up and down his back, trailing lightly with your nails. His breath was hot, but not uncomfortable against your neck.

You felt absolutely boneless as your legs slid from his hips. He pulled out of you soon after, but your embrace kept him from moving very far. He rested on his side, and you turned towards him. You both knew you’d have to deal with the sheets and the cleanup, but not just yet.

You carded your fingers more soothingly through his hair and drew his face back to yours.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you whispered. And you didn’t just mean in this bed. “I haven’t had that in a long time.”

Beau’s smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “You don’t gotta thank me for that.”

“Yeah, I do,” you nodded. Your lips formed a tired smile before they pressed softly to his. “I love you.”

Beau took a moment to brush a sweaty strand of hair away from your face. He’d believed in second chances before he met you…just not for himself. Meeting you made him swear by them.

“Love you too,” he said.

And the warmth of that bone-deep knowledge was more satisfying than even the heftiest slice of cake.

AN: God, I love Beau. I miss Big Sky. 😭 But feel free to let me know what you think of this one! It's only my second time, but I really do love writing this guy. ❤️

And tell me...are you team cake 🍰 or team pie 🥧?

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@lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @waters-2567

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#Beau Arlen imagine #Beau gives you the support you need #big sky #beau arlen #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x female reader #beau arlen x you #Beau Arlen smut #fluff #hurt/comfort #zepskies writes

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lovings4turn · 2 months

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Jack H. hitting it off with an introvert at a party. He takes a breather from the his group, sees you sitting by yourself, and joins you for a minute to make sure you're ok. There is something magnetizing. The questions/things you say are from an angle he thinks he has never been approached with. Even about hockey-which he talks about everyday with people as into it as him. You engage with his thoughts/passions in a deeper way, a way he didn't realize he was waiting to explore until now. Every thing he learns about you feels right, like he was immediately able to see the complete painting that is you and this information just has a piece of it come into focus. He makes you laugh and his breath locks up in his chest but also feels a lightness as if he took the first deep inhale of his life. As the hours pass a friend will call over for Jack to join a game (they actually have to call his name a few times to even break into the world you two have made) which he dismisses with an over the shoulder "next time!" He cannot look away from you lest he miss a new expression on your face- a new piece of you to memorize. He reluctantly leaves with your number and the total clarity that he wants to explore you and explore the two of you together, everyday for the rest of his life. Lmao I am so sorry this is so terrible, I woke up at 3 am and this is how I passed time.

nonnie love please tell me you have a writing blog on here because oh my god the level of talent and genius you possess actually blows my mind like ... 'so sorry this is so terrible' [INCREDIBLY LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER SOUNDS] ... nonnie darling i am gonna be daydreaming about this for so long ... picturing the goofy lil grin on his face whilst he talks to you ohh i'm SICK !!!!

#୭ 🧷 ✧˚. becca's musings #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader

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mcflymemes · 2 days

Text

THE IDEA OF YOU (2024) PROMPTS * assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

i got swept up in the idea of you, and it's been really fun, it really has, but we both knew it had to end.

i know exactly where i'm gonna put it.

i'm not really into them anymore.

stop it. you're having a party. it's nonnegotiable.

if you ever get lonely, promise you'll text me, okay?

what is going on? are you guys in an alliance or something?

how are you? ready for some fun?

i just wanted to invite you over sometime.

i'm doing stuff this weekend you can't even imagine.

that means the world to me.

that makes me feel so much better about the fact that you fucking destroyed my life.

everything's paid for, all the hotels, the meals.

look after one another, and please check your texts.

this your first time?

which one is your favorite?

i mean, just look at him. he's such a hottie.

actually, do you know where the bathroom is?

i absolutely know who you are.

do you want a drink? i mean, i've got all the sodas, the healthy ones, the not-so-healthy ones. there's kombucha.

truth hurts, doesn't it?

it was truly transcendent.

you know, i don't think i ever got your name.

oh, we met earlier. in line for the bathroom.

slight change of plans. i met someone tonight.

i think you're not even a person until you hit thirty.

i just wanted to come over and say that i really admire you.

i don't know if you remember me, but we met at coachella.

this is a surprise.

whatever this is, i want it in my home.

they take their work very seriously, as do i.

are you gonna show me something else?

well, that was incredibly rude of me.

wow. you're a natural.

i find it honestly incredibly moving.

what do you feel when you look at it?

god, i'm starving. are you hungry? we should go get a bite to eat.

for what it's worth, i think we met in a very interesting way.

no, i'm not gonna let you smell-test the contents of my refrigerator.

we're two people with trust issues who need to open up a little.

i'm too old for you.

can i take you back to your hotel?

there's so many buttons.

i think that's my greatest fear in life, that i'm a joke.

i hope you don't mind that i borrowed your cardigan. it's only temporary. i will give it back.

i was really hoping you'd come with me.

what about what people will say?

i think we could have a lot of fun.

do you say every fucking thing that pops in your head?

you are very, very beautiful and i fell for your fuck-boy move.

i was trying to impress you.

i'm sorry, is it so shocking to you that i've slept with other women?

for the first time in... i don't even fucking know how long... i'm actually happy.

with you, laughing, just being with you, holding you at night, i mean... it's meant the world to me.

i don't think you ever even gave us a change.

so, what, you're... ashamed of me?

i'm going to go find somewhere else to sleep tonight.

i kept thinking "i'm just gonna have this experience and no one will ever know."

why would you break up with a talented, kind feminist?

maybe it doesn't have to end.

i didn't know my being happy would piss so many people off.

you're gonna have a big, beautiful life.

#rp meme #mcflymemes #rp memes #rp prompt #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask meme #ask memes #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters #the idea of you

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mypoisonedvine · 2 years

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𝙼𝙴𝙴𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝚄𝙽𝚂𝙾𝙽𝚂 - chapter 7: want some, need some.

𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 - as wedding plans continue, you're struggling the avoid the reality of your situation, and a trip to the movies seems to only add more confusion.

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 6.2k

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 - bullying, implied/mentioned drug use, angst

As the guys started packing up their instruments, you stepped up to the stage, looking up at them. “Great job!” you offered— Eddie didn’t turn around from unplugging an amp, but you could see his cheeks rise with a grin.

Gareth beamed at you. “Thanks!”

“Where’d you guys learn to play like that?”

“Well, I actually taught myself,” Greg offered with a blush dusting his cheeks.

“Oh my god, really?!” you gasped. “That’s incredible! You’re so talented.”

“You know, I, uh—” Eddie stood up and spun around with a proud smirk, sauntering towards you— “I taught myself to play, too.”

“Yeah, uh huh,” you mumbled. “Jeff! Your guitar sounds so cool!”

“Oh, thanks— my mom got it for me,” he explained, then cleared his throat. “That’s super lame now that I say it out loud.”

“Nah, that’s sweet,” you decided, gently colliding your fist with his shoulder in a show of friendly affection.

“I saw you singing along at the end,” Gareth noticed, “if you ever wanted to join in for a show as our backup singer—”

“Oh, nonono,” you shook your head, “I only sing in the shower.”

“That is bullshit,” Eddie pointed at you. “You sang Wouldn’t It Be Nice with me—”

“That was one time,” you defended.

“— you sang Your Love in my van—”

“I— that’s different,” you mumbled, cheeks warming at the memory.

“And I heard you belting Madonna in your room the other night,” he finished confidently.

“What— you heard that?!” you whined, getting even more embarrassed.

“Hard not to when you were blasting the radio like that,” he rolled his eyes. “I was halfway across the house and you were singing so loud— at night I lock the doors where no one else can see, I’m tired of dancing here all by myself, tonight I wanna dance with someone else!”

You jumped up on the stage to shove him as punishment for his unflattering impression of your singing voice. “Shut up! I do not sound like that!”

“You do!” he insisted.

“Whatever,” you frowned, crossing your arms, and he laughed a little more before getting back to packing up the band’s equipment.

When he walked away to carry one of the speakers out the back to where his van was parked, Jeff gave you a look— one you noticed but couldn’t exactly define. “So,” he began, “you and Eddie are… bonding.”

“I guess,” you shrugged. “We might as well try to get along since I don’t know how long it’ll be before one of us can afford to move out.”

“Right,” Jeff nodded. “I’m glad to see you two are close.”

“Close? Woah,” you laughed thinly, “that’s a stretch. You saw him just now— he makes fun of me all the time.”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Don’t,” Gareth suddenly interjected.

“What?” Jeff turned to him defensively, but the drummer only shook his head and kept unscrewing the nut to detach his snare. “I wasn’t gonna say anything.”

“About what?” you pressed.

“Uh—” Jeff stalled, like he’d forgotten you were right there. “Nothing— don’t worry about it.”

“Wait, what are you guys talking about?” you frowned. “Did he say something to you guys? ‘Cause I thought that kid was joking when he said Eddie talks about me at Hellfire…”

“He was!” Gareth agreed. “Now can we talk about something else?”

“Dude,” Jeff frowned, “come on, she’s not an idiot.”

“Yeah, and she doesn’t like it when you talk about her like she’s not here,” you snapped.

“Sorry,” he apologized, looking at you again. “It’s just that Eddie has always—”

“He’s gonna kill you,” Gareth sing-songed quietly as he kept working.

“Zip it!” Jeff warned him. “You remember taking the club picture in 1983, right?”

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“Well, even before that, but especially after,” Jeff continued, “Eddie sort of had this… thing for—”

Eddie’s shriek suddenly getting louder was your only warning before he tackled the other guitarist to the ground. You gasped and stepped back, nearly falling off the edge of the stage, as they wrestled in front of your feet.

“Shut up!” Eddie warned him loudly as they struggled, and Jeff’s laughter made you feel more relieved that they weren’t really fighting, just… being guys.

“Ever since she took that picture you’ve been so—” Jeff started again, but Eddie’s hand covered his mouth.

“What did you tell her?!” Eddie interrogated, and Jeff growled as he fought for the upper hand, making Eddie laugh and push him back down.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Boys,” you mumbled to yourself, glancing at Gareth’s half-deconstructed drumset. You saw a tom left on the ground and picked it up, carrying it on your hip as you stepped out the back. It was much quieter there— dark and kinda of misty with a light rain, cicadas singing in the distant trees.

Gareth was standing by his car with the open hatchback, and smiled when he saw you. “Hey, thanks,” he nodded.

“Sure,” you smiled back, setting it in the trunk with the other drums already inside. “Can I ask what you and Jeff were talking about just now?”

Gareth sighed. “I think it’s better if you ask Eddie that question.”

“That won’t work,” you sighed, “he’ll just say something stupid like oh, wouldn’t you like to know, sweetheart? and then distract me by doing the most annoying thing he can think of at the moment.”

Gareth snorted. “Yeah, sounds like Eddie.”

“Do you know what his problem is with me?” you asked nervously. “Like, why he tries to drive me crazy so much?”

Gareth looked away from you. “Listen, all I know is he told us we weren’t allowed to ask you out.”

“Wait— what?!” you sputtered. You could think of a million questions to ask right then— Was one of you going to ask me out? Did he say that at Hellfire or band practice? Did he make this rule recently? Does he normally decide who you can and can’t ask out? — but in the time it took Gareth to walk across the asphalt to the back door of the bar, you only got out one: the simplest and most important one. “Why?”

Gareth turned back at you with a smile on his face, calling out so you could hear him across the parking lot. “‘Cause you’re his sister!” he answered before stepping in and disappearing.

You refused to acknowledge the way that answer disappointed you.

“I know it’s pretty casual but—” she began, looking a little shy as she stepped out from behind the curtain, but you cut her off with a sigh as you clutched your hands to your chest.

“Mom, it’s beautiful,” you informed her, and she smiled wider.

“Really?” she asked, turning to the three mirrors angled around her. It was short, for a wedding dress, and relatively simple except for the intricate beading around the neckline that followed to the straps over her shoulders. “I just didn’t want it to drag on the ground, since we’ll be outside.”

Yes, the backyard wedding idea had been finalized— the ceremony and reception would be right at home, which was pretty convenient but also a little intimidating. The budget available meant that almost every aspect had to be either DIY or some kind of shortcut: you got a deal on catering from Enzo’s because you worked your summer before junior year waitressing there and the owner still liked you; your mom didn’t want you to have to worry about being the photographer along with everything else you had to do, so your classmate Kate offered to do it as long as she got a free meal and could make copies for her portfolio; even the honeymoon was a bargain, an old buddy of Wayne’s had a cabin on Lake Michigan that he would let them stay in for the week after the wedding.

But, you convinced your mom to spend as much as she needed on her dress. A lot of things can be done affordably, and a lot of compromises can be made here and there, but if she didn’t feel beautiful on her day then it would all be a waste.

“I think it’ll look really nice,” you smiled, “especially with some jewelry— oh! Maybe a flower crown.”

“You don’t think I’m too old for that?” she worried.

“Mom, come on, you’re not old,” you dismissed.

“But will I look like I’m trying to look young?”

“You’ll look amazing!” you insisted.

“Well, if you say so,” she beamed, twirling her skirt for a moment— it was adorable, actually. “Oh! I almost forgot. I picked your dress out, too.”

“My… my dress?” you repeated.

“Yeah!” she announced as she faced you again. “Your flower girl dress! You should try it on!”

But when she brought it into the changing room for you, you literally thought she was joking for a second. When you realized she was serious, you could already see it— Eddie laughing hysterically at the sight of you, your face burning, having to spend the whole night in that abomination of a dress.

“Isn’t it cute?” she beamed. “It reminds me of the dresses you wore when you were little…”

“I’m… sure it does,” you agreed, swallowing down your hatred for the garment when you realized how much it meant to her. And yes, it looked just as bad— if not worse— on you as it did on the hanger. But it wasn’t about you; it was about how happy she looked when you stepped out in the bright pink, puffy, fluffy, lace-and-tulle-drowned mess she picked.

“And can you believe it’s only thirty dollars?” she announced happily as you stood in front of the triple mirrors.

I can’t believe they’re not paying me for the trouble of wearing it, you thought, but you only offered her a half-hearted smile in the reflection.

When you returned home from the bridal boutique, as your mom announced she would go hang your newly-purchased dresses in the closet, you heard a frantic shuffling coming from your room; instantly you barged in and found Eddie kneeling in front of scattered photographs, a shoebox overturned nearby that he was trying to scoop them back into— but he froze as you gasped.

“Damn it, Eddie!” you yelped.

“I swear, I was just looking for a flashlight,” he raised his hands defensively.

“Really? In the shoebox under my bed?” you snapped.

“Well— I was just looking under your bed for the flashlight. And then I found the shoebox…” he trailed off, and you groaned as you marched across the room and snatched the box away— but he still had the ones in his hands.

You knew already what he’d seen— there were all sorts of pictures in there, nearly six years’ worth of Polaroids with sentimental value, but the ones he was holding were of Jonathan. He was probably expecting (possibly hoping?) to find pictures of you naked— even though you’d told him already that you don’t take those— but instead he saw all the special moments you’d hidden away… which was almost as bad as seeing you naked.

“You said you and Jonathan weren’t that close,” he noticed. “When did you take all these, then?”

You got down on the floor in front of the spread of pictures and sighed. “Okay, we were close. And then…”

“Then?”

“Then he started dating Nancy Wheeler.”

Eddie paused for a second, then nodded. “Ah…” he sighed softly.

“And then he moved to fucking California.”

“Wow, Fucking California. Sounds way cooler than the regular California.”

“Seriously, Ed," you rolled your eyes. "And he said he would call, but he already didn’t call that much anymore before he left.”

You pulled the pictures out of his hands, stopping when you saw them. The first one was Jonathan eating a cone at Scoops Ahoy. He’d told you he wouldn’t be caught dead at the mall, but then you dragged him in to convince him to try their Peanut Butter Pecan flavor and soon he was just as much of an addict to it as you were. The other photo made you sigh. It was just Jonathan behind his camera, snapping a picture, but that was how you remembered him: behind the camera.

“This picture…” you trailed off. “He was supposed to keep the other one that he took, of me taking a picture of him. I don’t even know if he still has it. He probably threw it out when he left.”

“Aw, come on,” Eddie tilted his head, “don’t say that— he’d have to be heartless to do that.”

“Well…” you shrugged, looking down, and he let the moment linger for a second before he reached forward and took the photos out of your hands, tossing them back into the shoebox with the rest of them before slamming the lid.

“Wanna do something fun?” he encouraged randomly.

“Uh, no,” you frowned, giving him a look. “Not with you.”

“Let’s go to the movies,” he suggested anyway, “my treat. I thought that new movie Legend looked kinda cool.”

“I… really should be studying…” you trailed off.

“Nah, you’ll be fine,” he insisted, “you deserve to enjoy yourself for a night.”

“And I’m supposed to enjoy myself at the movies with you?” you realized, raising an eyebrow at him.

“How do you normally enjoy yourself?” he wondered. “Lemme guess: bubble bath, candles, and—”

“George Michael on the Walkman, yep,” you agreed, “I’m not even gonna try to deny it because I’m not ashamed.”

“And you shouldn’t be!” he beamed. “I’m just saying, maybe it would do you some good to get out of the house.”

“I was just out,” you reminded him.

“Yeah, with your mom,” he rolled his eyes, “that doesn’t count. How’d dress shopping go, by the way?”

“Oh, it was fine,” you sighed, “but you’re gonna laugh when you see me in my dress.”

“How bad is it?” he grinned.

“So bad, I look like a Peep,” you whined.

“Aw, I like Peeps,” he pouted, “so it sounds to me like you’ll look delicious.”

Weirdly enough, that was almost comforting. “So, Legend, what’s it about?”

He grinned. “You’ll see.”

He opened the van door for you, bowing and swinging his arm out dramatically. “What’s with the showmanship?” you scoffed as you hopped down and walked past him, letting him shut the door behind you and dash to catch up.

“Can’t a guy just believe in chivalry?” he announced proudly, following you across the parking lot to the glittering lights of the Cineplex.

“I guess,” you shrugged, walking beside him to the ticket booth. “If you get the tickets, I’ll get the snacks.”

“Now now, wouldn’t a true gentleman pay for everything?” he challenged, and you rolled your eyes.

“Wouldn’t a true gentleman wear unripped jeans?”

“Hm,” he frowned, “fair. And I’m also kinda broke, so, thanks for the snacks.”

“Don’t thank me yet, we’re gonna have to share a popcorn,” you laughed, “I’m broke too.”

As you approached the box office, Eddie smiled at the gum-chewing teenager behind the glass. “Two for Legend, please,” he requested as he slid a ten across the counter.

The kid, smacking their Hubba Bubba, glanced at him, then you, then him again, before sliding your tickets back to you.

You got a similar reaction from the guy behind the counter doling out snacks. He actually stuttered a little when he saw the two of you and asked, "C-can I get you anything?"

"A large popcorn, extra butter, two sodas aaaaand… Sour Patch Kids?" you turned to Eddie for approval of your order.

"As long as you save the yellow ones for me," Eddie agreed.

"Oh perfect, I don't like the yellow ones," you smiled as the employee set the massive popcorn bag in front of you.

"How can you not like the yellow ones?" Eddie scoffed.

"They're just too sour," you shrugged. "I like the ones that are sweet on the inside."

"I mean, I like those too," he admitted. "I like the blue ones, what flavor are those supposed to be?"

"I think they're blue raspberry," you replied, more focused on handling the sodas being handed to you, but Eddie took his and continued.

"You know, I never understood that. There aren't actually blue raspberries, are there?"

You sighed and followed Eddie, drinks and snacks in tow, to theater number four. "Not any that I'd wanna eat," you replied.

Eddie held the swinging door open for you, and you walked up the incline to the middle of the theater; he stood beside you, taking it in, looking up and down the rows of seats where some other people were finding their own places. “Okay, where do you usually sit?” he asked.

“Two-thirds back because—”

“That’s where the sound engineer sits when they’re mixing the audio!” he finished for you, beaming.

“Y-yeah,” you agreed, beginning to smile back.

“See,” Eddie clicked his tongue, “I knew you were cool.”

You scoffed as you climbed the stairs with him up to the right spot in the theater. "No you didn't," you denied, "you said you were hoping for someone cooler."

"Huh?"

"When we met at that restaurant, right after mom and Wayne got engaged? You said you wanted someone cooler than me."

Eddie smiled as he motioned for you to slide down the row of seats first. He didn't respond to what you'd said until he sat next to you; "Well," he sighed as he got comfortable, "I guess I was just trying to match your energy."

"Of relentless pessimism?" you grinned, and he smiled in agreement. "Yeah… don't do that. I like it better when you're annoyingly upbeat."

When the movie began, before anything had even happened, you noticed a couple sitting in front of you begin aggressively making out. You clammed up at the sight, nervous in the presence of PDA, but when Eddie noticed, too, he just grinned and elbowed you to point it out.

“Yeah, I saw,” you whispered to him under your breath.

“Check this out,” he returned, waiting for the right moment to feign a cough and then “accidentally” kick the back of the guy’s seat. The couple broke apart and glared at him, and when you got a better look at them, you recognized the girl: Sally… something. You never really knew her, but she was in your class. Sally… Carter? Cartwright? Something like that.

“Hey man, can you watch it?” the boyfriend grimaced.

“Shh, the movie’s starting,” Eddie held his finger to his lips, and the young couple rolled their eyes and turned away again.

“Ten bucks says his hand’s up her shirt before the end of the first act,” you leaned in to whisper to Eddie, and he snorted softly.

“First act? Try first five minutes,” he replied.

Let’s just hope she doesn’t still stuff her bra…

As the movie continued, you both were too focused on it to notice what Sally and her date were up to. Though you weren’t sure what you were expecting, it was surprisingly dark— creepy, and unsettling, in that sort of… titillating way that movies like this could be.

Not that it was sexy! Sure, the part where Darkness tried to seduce the princess was interesting, but it wasn’t like that. It just put you on edge, and so did sitting next to Eddie.

You glanced at him every time your fingers brushed against his in the popcorn bowl, but he never reacted— his eyes were glued to the screen, reflecting back every frame that he was absorbing so thoroughly. You almost had more fun watching him watch it than actually watching it.

Another thing you hadn’t expected was to be scared by the movie; you usually weren’t that affected by scary movie moments, but unexpected violence had you whimpering quietly as you hid your face behind your hand. You looked down and inward, giving you a decent view of Eddie’s lap with his spread jean-clad legs and his chain hanging down between the chairs, and you almost gasped when you felt his arm wrap around you and pull you in.

“I’ll tell you when the scary part’s over,” he whispered under his breath, and you nodded as your forehead rested on his shoulder.

When you breathed in, you could smell him so strongly— in a good way, for once. He must’ve sprayed some cheap cologne on before the two of you left the house, but it was nice; you closed your eyes as you took another breath, feeling like his body heat could just melt you, feeling the way his hand held onto your shoulder tightly, feeling his soft t-shirt on your face…

“Okay,” he whispered, and you dropped your hand from your eyes, turning your head to look at the screen again.

For a second, you both lingered, and you wondered what would happen if you just rested your head on his shoulder and stayed there, and he kept his arm around you, and you snuggled up in the dark. It would be so terrible, for one, because… because! Just today you were watching your mom try on her dress for the wedding, and now you were thinking about making a move on the guy you were supposed to be related to soon?

You grimaced at your own horrific thoughts and sat up again, leaning back in your chair.

“Thanks,” you whispered to Eddie in appreciation of his… protection? Whatever it was, you appreciated it.

As you walked out of the theater, tossing the last of the popcorn into the bin along with your empty drinks and box of Sour Patch Kids, Eddie couldn’t contain himself.

“That was so sick!” Eddie announced excitedly, jumping up and down a couple times. “Oh my god, it was just like a D&D campaign! Oh, hold on, I need to make a campaign based on this movie, like, yesterday.”

“Really? That’s what D&D is like?” you pressed.

“You wanna play now, don’t you?” he noticed.

“Wha— no!” you denied sheepishly. “Do girls even play that?”

“Yeah, totally!” he beamed. “I mean… not a lot, but Sinclair’s sister plays.”

“Oh,” you laughed, “so literally girls play it. But do women?”

He snorted. “Yeah, I mean… I assume. I just haven’t met any. It’s a small town, y’know.”

“Right,” you agreed.

Eddie stiffened up suddenly as you turned out of the hallway into the lobby, glancing down. “Speaking of small town…” he trailed off.

“Huh?” you asked, but you were interrupted by a guy in a letter jacket walking up to the two of you.

“No way,” the stranger smirked, crossing his arms, “is this… the freak on a date?”

“It’s not a date,” you corrected, “we’re just—”

You realized mid-way through that you didn’t know the end of that sentence: friends? siblings? mortal enemies?

“It’s not a date,” you repeated again in lieu of finishing your thought.

“Well, that’s a relief,” the jock sighed. “Would hate to see what happens to any girl that dares to go out with someone like you.”

Eddie just shook his head, but amazingly didn’t say anything— and you leaned in and narrowed your eyes as you examined the stranger’s face and realized he wasn’t much of a stranger after all.

“Oh shit, you’re not— Carver? Jason Carver?” you realized. “Gosh, you grew up.”

He looked way too proud of himself, as if he had any control over his own aging. “Yeah, I did,” he beamed.

“You used to be the most pretentious little pipsqueak of all the sophomores,” you recalled with a laugh, making Jason’s smile falter. “And look at you now… you’re not even smart enough to be called ‘pretentious’.”

He scoffed defensively. “Whatever…”

“Let’s go,” you mumbled to Eddie, who took a step with you towards the door, but Jason stopped you with a hand on your arm that you shrugged off instantly.

“How’s your boyfriend doing, by the way? Gary Thompson?” he asked with a shit-eating grin. You knew he knew— he wouldn’t ask if he didn’t— and considering his… connection to Gary's affairs, it was easy for him to know.

“Well, last I heard he was cheating on me with a parade of other girls, including your unstoppable slut of an older sister,” you shot back, “but it’s been a while so it’s hard to say.”

“Hey!” Jason barked, stepping up to you. “Leave my sister out of it.”

“Right back at you,” Eddie sneered.

That seemed to stun Jason long enough for you to grab Eddie’s wrist and drag him out of the theater— he yanked away when you were in the parking lot, rubbing where you’d held as if you hurt him.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he offered to break the silence. “And I’m sorry he said that shit to you— it wouldn’t have happened if I wasn't with you…”

You didn’t say anything, so he trailed off. As you got in the van again, plunged into that specific silence that only exists inside a car where two people aren’t talking, you gnawed your lip.

“He normally doesn’t get to me like that,” Eddie continued with a sigh as he started the engine, shaking his head, “it’s just ‘cause he did that in front of you.”

“You called me your sister…" you noticed quietly.

"Yeah," he smiled. "I like doing that. It feels right."

And you knew that this wasn't a date, but hearing Eddie say that made you remember why it couldn't be a date— which made you feel guilty, and gross, for almost wishing that it was.

You started to get so angry, mostly with yourself, and when you got angry you started to cry. You tried to turn away, to stare out the window so he wouldn’t see, but he did. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you whispered, knowing your voice would break if you spoke any louder.

“C’mon, you can tell me,” he promised, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder— but you shrugged it off.

“We’re not family,” you reminded him. “Not really. You’re not my brother. Stop acting like it.”

There was a long silence, maybe the longest you’d ever been silent with Eddie; or, more accurately, the longest he’d been silent with you. You wanted to look over your shoulder and see what he was doing— other than driving— see if you could read the look on his face. But then you’d be giving in first, you’d be admitting defeat.

So you just stared out the window at the town rolling by as Eddie drove.

Inspired by what Eddie said the day before, even if the two of you hadn’t spoken much since then, you gave Jonathan a call after you got home from work while the house was still empty. You weren’t actually expecting him to pick up— you figured it would be his mom, if anything, and that she’d tell you he was out but that he would call you back, and then he wouldn’t.

So you were surprised to hear his voice on the other end when the ringing stopped: “Hello?”

“Jonathan!” you said, suddenly realizing you sounded much too excited. “Um, hey…”

“Hey,” he replied, “it’s been a while— too long.”

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“I’m… sorry for being quiet,” he choked.

“No, I can hear you fine,” you promised, leaning against the wall— since it was the phone in the kitchen that you were using.

“I mean, like, I didn’t call as much as I said I would,” he clarified, and you nodded with a silent ‘oh’. “And I was gonna write, but… it’s been busy.”

“I’m sure,” you offered. “It’s been busy here too! So much has happened… I’ve been waiting to tell you.”

“Go ahead,” he prompted, and you smiled— but then you looked down.

“Actually, I meant to ask you something.”

“Uh huh?”

“Do you remember when you first got the Pentax and I got my second Land camera— after the first one got thrown in the lake— and we took pictures of each other?”

“Well, we were always taking pictures,” he recalled.

“Yeah, but— the one where we’re literally taking pictures of each other at the same time.”

“Oh! Yeah, of course.”

You fiddled with the curly phone cord nervously. “Do you still… have the one you took of me?”

“What? Yeah, it’s in my album,” he answered quickly. “Why?”

You tensed up. Now you felt bad for thinking he threw it out— and you didn’t want to tell him the real reason that you asked about it, and give away your insecurity. It might come across as guilt-tripping anyways.

“Do you want a copy?” he asked. “I still have the negative.”

“Yes!” you said excitedly as he supplied a perfect excuse for you. “Yeah, we’re doing this, like, self-portrait assignment in one of my classes, I thought it might be good inspiration.”

“Yeah, I’ll mail you one,” he offered.

“Thanks,” you sighed, “that’ll be great.”

“So… h-how have things been with you?” he asked after a pause.

You weren’t sure where to start. “Uh, well, there’s this guy—”

“Oh?” Jonathan interrupted, before you could add that key step-brother detail, and you rolled your eyes.

“Not like that— he can’t stand me. I can’t stand him!”

“Uh huh…”

“Seriously, he’s— ugh. You don’t get it. He’s literally making it his life’s mission to irritate me. He has no respect for my space, o-or my sanity.”

“Sounds difficult.”

“Jonathan, he’s an actual living nightmare,” you assured.

Just then, you heard the front door slam, and the loud voice of Eddie, because of course. You were about to ask him to quiet down while you were on the phone (even though it wouldn’t work), but then you realized Wayne was with him— and you heard what they were saying.

“How did he even find our new address?” Eddie groaned.

“Well, I gave it to him,” Wayne admitted, and you heard Eddie scoff. “I thought maybe you’d wanna answer him this time… a lot has changed, he’d probably like to hear about it.”

“You can tell him,” Eddie suggested sharply, “you’re the one that’s getting married, getting a stepdaughter— why don’t you just tell him yourself?”

“Well, Edward, I think he’d rather hear from you.”

“I’m sure he would!” Eddie spat. “What about me, huh, what do you think I want? Y’think maybe I want a dad who isn’t a criminal— and an asshole?!”

“Shit,” you hissed into the phone, “I’ve gotta go.”

“O-okay,” Jonathan stuttered.

“We’ll talk another time, okay?”

You set the phone on the hook and tried to stay quiet and still, not wanting to interrupt Wayne and Eddie… but also not wanting them to know you were listening.

“I know how you feel about him,” Wayne said flatly, “I know you’re still angry—”

“Aren’t you? He’s the one who got you stuck with me.”

“Hey now,” Wayne warned, his voice somehow both soft and stern. “You don’t have to write him back. But would you consider reading what he said to you?”

Eddie scoffed. “What did he say?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t read it.”

“Well, read it and tell me what it says.”

“No,” Wayne snapped, “he wrote it to you. You can read it yourself.”

There was a pause, and you heard paper crumpling— no doubt Eddie snatched the letter out of Wayne’s hand. A few footsteps later and you heard your bedroom door slamming.

Wayne stopped when he saw you in the kitchen, setting down the rest of the mail on the table. “Oh,” he said, “didn’t know you were in here.”

“Yeah,” you breathed, “um, I was just using the phone.”

He nodded.

“I’m gonna, uh… take a walk, I think,” you decided.

“Okay,” he agreed.

You rushed out the front door and crossed your arms as you strolled on the pavement; you figured it wasn’t worth trying to get into your room right now…

You killed some time, kicked a rock for a few strides, pet the dog in the yard two blocks down, and came back when you figured enough time had passed. Eddie was gone— Wayne said he went for a smoke, but you didn’t bother to ask what he was smoking: considering the circumstances, you could guess.

When you went back into your room, it was totally trashed; Eddie must have changed clothes when he got home, because he’d left his dirty shirt and jeans strewn out in the middle of the floor. His guitar was also laying on the floor with the cord dropped carelessly in a pile, his backpack was opened and there were books and folders coming out of it, some left opened on the desk, others just dropped on the floor as well.

Sighing, you dropped down to try to start cleaning up— this was a bi-weekly task now at least, picking up after Eddie if you had any hope of keeping your room in decent shape.

Eventually, you got the room mostly in order by kicking his dirty clothes aside and reorganizing his backpack, and your last step was the desk. There were papers in the wastebasket beside it, and the one on top was torn in half. Maybe you were naive, but you really assumed it was just a homework assignment or something, and you wondered how cruel it would have to be to merit that treatment. However, when your curiosity got the better of you and you grabbed the two halves to uncrumple and hold together, you froze. It was so clearly not your business, but you found yourself reading it before you could stop yourself.

Hey there Edward,

How are things with you? I still read the last letter you sent me all the time, but I wish I had a new one. Wayne doesn’t tell me much. Last I heard, you were moving into a new place with him and some woman. She’s got a daughter, right? Are you friends?

I don’t blame you for being angry with me, but I hope you write back anyway. No matter what, you’re always my boy.

Dad

Setting down the two halves, you furrowed your brows and reached in after the other papers. Your conscience was screaming at you not to do it, but you’d been feeling like a pretty bad person lately anyways. The first ball of paper unfurled in your hands, but there wasn’t much to see.

Hi Dad,

You can just call me Eddie

It stopped there, scribbled out and crumpled up. You reached in and unfolded the next one carefully, since it was already partially torn.

Dad—

Stop writing, please, it’s pretty sad

The next one wasn’t squished into a ball, just folded in half, and you unfolded it with a shaky breath.

Pops — yeah, we’re moving in with Wayne’s girlfriend, and she’s got a daughter, but I don’t know if we’re really friends. We weren’t before, but it’s getting better. Remember how I always wanted a brother? Well, I still do. This sister thing is kind of annoying.

Things are okay with me, and I’m actually going to graduate this year— really. I heard from my hardest teacher, Ms. O’Donnell, that I did well on the midterm paper, so as long as I can actually eek out a 30% or higher on the final exam, I’m golden.

But that’s not why I’m writing to you now. I’m only reaching out because I wanted to ask you about my mom. I didn’t see you two together very often, but you usually argued when I did. I was just wondering if you ever really loved her? Please answer honestly. It’s okay if you didn’t, accidents happen. But I guess I’m hoping you’ll say that there was something real between you two before you left and before she died. Did you ever think about getting married?

I guess I’m thinking about it because

The letter stopped again, right when it was getting good; you sighed, guilt for your snooping making your stomach sink, and shoved the papers back into the trash can. You hoped that he eventually finished one to send… not because of the whole ‘he’s your dad, you have to talk to him’ thing because that’s crap, although you could appreciate it as someone who would give anything for a chance to write to your own dad again. Really, you just thought Eddie should write back because he clearly had some unfinished business with him.

But, you knew it was also not even close to any of your business; sighing and shaking your head, you picked up the bin and carried it to the kitchen to dump into the big trash can. The discarded letters bounced down, but the small papers at the very bottom of the wastebasket fell in last, so light that they fluttered down like leaves on a tree before they rested on top of the rest of the trash. You sighed at the sight of two ticket stubs for Legend at the Cineplex.

You walked back to your room with the empty bin and, in a masterful show of restraint, waited about thirty seconds before running back into the kitchen and grabbing the two stubs out of the trash and shoving them in your pocket.

#eddie munson x reader #stepbrother!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic

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endlessnightlock · 2 months

Note

If you feel inspired, #10 “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” from the random prompt list <3

Her dad's guitar takes up a fair amount of space in Katniss's lap, boxy but lightweight, with room to hide behind when her nerves get the better of her. Slightly battered and smooth from use, the balsawood is cool to the touch when she picks its strings and makes it sing. But she's getting antsy, so she puts her guitar in its case and wanders over to the corner of the stage. She's careful to stay hidden behind the heavy velvet curtain. Ms. Trinkett will give her the devil if she catches her peeking out.

People are trickling into the high school auditorium: classmates, a few teachers, and a smattering of parents. She sees Gale and the rest of her cousins file into a row near the stage with Hazelle. Prim and her parents have been here for a while. Katniss hopes the auditorium won't be too full when Principal Flickerman starts the show. She's not a confident performer. Singing and playing are more of a compulsion for her, a hunger she has to feed rather than a bid for attention.

When the clock ticks down to zero (performance time! Ms. Trinkett brightly states), she's waiting for her turn to go on stage with the guitar strapped to her chest.

Madge starts the show with a classical piece. The school's piano is out of tune, but her best friend makes it work. Katniss can't keep the smile off her face. Madge is the shyest person she knows, and she's proud of her friend for getting over that fear to play tonight.

"Wow. Did you know she could play like that?" Peeta Mellark asks. Somehow he'd wandered away from the group he was standing with and up to her side.

Katniss gives a sharp nod, surprised he said anything at all. Not that he doesn't talk. He's popular, friendly, and always hanging out with one group or another. He just never talks to her.

"I mean, of course you do," he laughs at himself. "Is that why you're such good friends? Shared talent?"

She shrugs. "Maybe." She's never considered that before, but he might be on to something.

"Nothing like twenty questions before we go onstage. I'm just a little nervous. Talk too much when that happens."

"No, it's okay," she says. A strain of nervousness makes her insides tight, too. She decides she likes talking to Peeta. He says what he's thinking, but in a more thought-out way than she can pull off. Words stumble across her lips, leaving her embarrassed more often than not. "You can talk. It's not too much."

Peeta grins at her.

"Um, what are you doing?" she asks. "Not like, life in general. For the show."

"Comedy. Going to try getting laughs out of my dumb jokes."

"Oh. I didn't know you did that."

"Me neither, until two weeks ago when they posted the sign-up sheet. I had to find a way to get into the show."

"I was dragged here kicking and screaming. That's brave of you to try something new."

"Or stupid. We'll see." Peeta says. "I know you have a beautiful singing voice, but I didn't know you played."

"My dad taught me. This is his, actually." She pats the fretboard, keeping her eyes on the strings, feeling shy at the compliment. "I didn't know you'd heard me sing."

"I think it was your first public appearance. Kindergarten. Mrs. Paylor asked if anyone knew The Valley Song. Your hand shot up, and when you stood on your chair and sang, my fragile 5-year-old heart was lost," he says.

"That didn't happen," she says.

"Swear to god. You had on a red checkered dress, and your hair was in two long braids. I like your hair tonight, too. It's really pretty."

"Thank you," she murmurs. Katniss pats the braided, pinned updo her mother did for her. She likes the old-fashioned style because it feels in keeping with her mountain heritage.

Vague memories of that red and white dress invade her mind. She does her hair in a single braid most days because it's long and gets everywhere if she doesn't, and she did wear it in two as a child.

"You have an incredible memory."

Peeta shrugs, smiling down at the tips of his shoes.

"Peeta, you're next dear," Ms. Tinkett says, bringing Katniss back to herself. Madge's song was over three students ago in the rotation, and she hadn't even noticed.

"Wish me luck?" Peeta asks her quietly.

"Good luck," she says, kind of dumbfounded by their conversation. She'd caught Peeta looking her way when he thought she didn't notice but never considered what that meant.

She couldn't hear most of Peeta's stand-up routine, but she caught amused laughter from the audience. When it was her turn to go onstage and stand in the spotlight, their conversation was still in the forefront of her mind, and she found her fingers moving over the strings, playing The Valley Song and remembering the little curly blond headed boy from kindergarten.

#endlessnightlock writes #everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlark drabble #katniss everdeen/peeta mellark

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pjsk-writin · 9 months

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Hello!! how are you? Can i have N25 (Seperately) with a reader who's a big fan of Niigo and is the biggest fan of the characters? And when they decided to hang out (The reader still doesnt know they're part of N25) The reader started rambling about how much they love them like "Woah Enanan's illustration is so good!", "Yuki's voice is so nice!!" Etc etc. (Basically Niigo members with a S/o who's a big fan of them and decides to gush about them without knowing)

IDK WHY BUT I THINK THIS WOULD BE SO ADORABLE Especially Ena bcs my girl needs some love!!!! (ALL OF THEM NEEDS LOVE‼️‼️‼️)

I apologize if this is confusing,, I hope you're having a great week, Don't forget to take a break, and don't overwork yourself!!!

- 🦅 anon

HDFJDJJFG NO DW THIS IS SO CUTES I LOVE THIS IDEA !!! have a great week too, and I hope u like this !! <3

♤ GUSHING ABOUT THEM - Kanade Yoisaki, Mafuyu Asahina, Ena Shinonome and Mizuki Akiyama x Reader

Kanade:

You had discovered Niigo on a random late night, and the composing work done by K had blown you away after the first listen!

At the same time of your discovery, you met Kanade, a homebody you bumped into while out and about, but you got along with her pretty well

You had days planned with her where you would go to visit her house, talking with her about random things and making sure that she was eating well

As she was eating your meal, you saw her keyboard by her desk, and was immediately reminded of Niigo and the wonderful composer of the group

"Hey Kanade, have you ever heard of this group called Niigo?" You missed the way she freezes, food in hand as she hesitantly shook her head. "Um...I don't think so? They sound interesting though."

You nodded, a grin spreading across your lips as you rambled, "Oh my god, you should totally listen to their music! Their composer, K? They're so incredible, their music really speaks to me!"

She was trying to keep her cool, but she was smiling, a warm flush settling over her face as she heard you gushing about...her. It made her heart flutter at your adoration for both sides of her <3

Mafuyu:

When you first discovered Niigo, you were completely blown away by the lyrics. They spoke to you, and you grew a big appreciation for Yuki, their lyricist!

You had met Mafuyu while you both were on your way to school, and her smiley disposition was always nice to be around, even if things felt a bit...off at times

She had grown used to having you accompany her as you both walked to school, finding that being around you always left a sort of warmth in her chest

You were talking with her as the both of you made your way to school, a faint melody of a random song reminding you of your late night discovery

"Oh, Mafuyu, have you heard of Niigo?" She seemed to pause a bit in her steps, face dropping slightly before she looked to you, giving that same smile, "Ah, not really! What is that?"

You were quick to launch into a tangent, enthusiasm in your tone, "I don't know if they'd be your style, but they're a music group! I especially love their lyrics, Yuki is such a talented person!"

She didn't usually feel any emotions, but to witness your delight as you talked about something she had done, no good girl persona attached? It made her feel something she never felt before <3

Ena:

You had been drawn to Niigo's music by the illustrations in the first place, finding that every single drawing was perfect for the song it went with, solidifying your awe for Enanan

You happened to bump into Ena by chance as she was on her way to night school and you were out and about, but the two of you managed to make quick friends

She loved to take you around to different spots so that she could take pictures for her social media, finding that your company always made it more fun!

As the two of you sat together in a restaurant, you noticed a couple of drawings nearby that reminded you of the group and illustrator you had discovered

"Ooh, Ena, have you heard of Niigo before?" She almost dropped her phone, looking up at you in surprise before quickly covering up by shaking her head. "Uhh...No? Should I know them?"

You laughed, shaking your head as you rambled, "I mean, they're very good! I love their music, but I mostly love them for the work their illustrator, Enanan, does! Their drawings are so pretty!"

Her heart swells almost immediately upon hearing your compliments, barely able to hide her big grin. All she wants is to be recognized for her art, and you seem to do just that <3

Mizuki:

You had clicked on a Niigo video by either sheer coincidence or pure accident, but the production and overall look of the music videos kept you hooked, Amia's style really keeping you drawn in

You met Mizuki while both of you were out shopping, and they ended up claiming you as one of the people they bring along to the mall

They love making cute outfits for you both, but they also look around for inspiration for their music videos every now and then. They don't tell you that though

While the two of you were out together, you found something that reminded you of a Niigo music video, which made you light up and ask your mall buddy about them

"Hey Mizuki, do you know Niigo?" They froze, almost dropping the bags in thier hands as they looked over at you before tilting their head, "Hm, not really! Are they cute?"

You hummed, shrugging, "I mean, they're a faceless group, but their music is so good! Plus, all of their music videos are gorgeous, Amia does such a good job at connecting the videos with the music!"

They swore they could die happy in that moment, eyes sparkling as they tried their best to hide how happy your praise made them. They appreciated your words more than you would ever know <3

#project sekai x reader #pjsk x reader #kanade yoisaki x reader #yoisaki kanade x reader #mafuyu asahina x reader #asahina mafuyu x reader #ena shinonome x reader #shinonome ena x reader #mizuki akiyama x reader #akiyama mizuki x reader #🦅 anon

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queenshelby · 9 months

Text

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART 30: SOCIAL MEDIA

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Lots of Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Pregnancy Loss, Infertility

Cillian and Nina walked into Cillian's apartment and plopped down on the sofa, exhausted from a long day. Nina absentmindedly scrolled through Instagram, her eyes widening at the sight of countless pictures you were tagged in from the theatre.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Cillian leaned over his daughter's shoulder to get a glimpse of what had caught her attention. His eyes widened as he saw the stunning images of you, showcasing your incredible talent on stage.

Cillian, never one for social media, thought for a moment before transforming into a wine connoisseur. He poured himself a glass and decided that perhaps, just this once, he could dip his toes into the digital world.

Cillian, not being so savvy in the world of social media, found himself intrigued by this unconventional way of peeping into people's lives and, with his newfound curiosity, he glanced at Nina, offering her a crooked grin.

"You know what? I think it's about time I joined the world of Instagram too. I mean, how hard can it be?" Cillian said, only half-serious.

Nina let out a hearty laugh, grabbing her phone. "Dad, I hate to break it to you, but I think they might have put an 'age restriction' on Instagram. You're probably breaking some kind of internet law just by thinking of signing up."

Determined not to be thwarted by his daughter's teasing, Cillian pushed forward. "I am young at heart, you know that. Besides, I want to see what all the fuss is about with this social media thing,” Cillian laughed.

"All right, Dad. Let's see if the world is ready for Cillian Murphy on Instagram then,” she giggled before warning him. “But don’t you dare follow me! Your request will be denied!” she told him, causing Cillian to furrow his eyebrows.

“Follow? What do you mean by that?” he asked obliviously just before Nina left the living room to retrieve her laptop from her bedroom while Cillian poured himself another glass of wine. Nothing like some liquid courage to tackle the world of social media.

As Nina set up his profile, Cillian couldn't help but start feeling a little giddy, thinking that he was doing something naughty while, deep down inside, reflecting on his feelings. He missed you. He missed your laughter, your touch, and the way you made his heart race.

A familiar ache settled in his chest as he thought about the reasons you two broke up. The age difference seemed significant at the time, but now, he couldn't deny his lingering love for you.

“All done. Just waiting for your verification because you are a celebrity after all,” Nina teased but Cillian had no idea what she was on about and reached for his mobile phone, which is where Nina had downloaded an app and signed him in.

“I have taken a photo of you from the Internet. Needless to say, there were plenty of them,” she joked before, eventually, explaining to her father how Instagram actually worked.

Then, after Nina finished setting up Cillian's profile and retreated to her room, Cillian held his phone, contemplating whether he should follow your Instagram account. His finger hovered over the "Follow" button, hesitating.

"To hell with it," Cillian then muttered to himself, clicking the button and grinning like a teenager who had just pulled off a secret prank.

***

Meanwhile, at a lively bar, you were enjoying a night out with your friends following your grand performance, laughing and sipping on colourful cocktails.

That's when it happened. A notification popped up on your phone—Cillian Murphy is now following you on Instagram.

You nearly choked on your drink. Was this some sort of prank, you wondered and, just as you became somewhat flustered by what you believed to be a joke, one of your new acquaintances at the academy tapped you on the shoulder as she too was reading your feed.

"Oh my god Y/N, Cillian Murphy actually commented on your post!" she exclaimed, eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Wait, what?” you asked before scrolling through the feed yourself and seeing that, not only had someone using Cillian’s name followed you, but also had this person left a comment, congratulating you on your performance.

“I doubt that’s real” another one of the dancers then said, pointing to the fact that the profile was not yet verified and, of course, you too were sceptical.

Thus, given Cillian's aversion to social media, you brushed off your friend’s excitement and told them to ignore this person who, clearly, was not Cillian Murphy. You were thinking that this was nothing more than a prank. But curiosity got the better of you anyway, and you decided to investigate.

Taking a leap of faith, you pulled out your phone and, with a mix of apprehension and hope, sent a message to the number you still had stored from your dating days.

"Cillian, is that really you commenting on my Instagram post or is someone playing a prank on me?" you typed, your words filled with both curiosity and hope. Hesitating for a moment, you pressed the 'send' button, watching as your message disappeared into the digital realm.

***

Back in Cillian's apartment, his phone buzzed, signalling a new message. His heart raced as he unlocked his phone and read the familiar name lighting up the screen.

Eyes widening, Cillian let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "It's her," he whispered, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Slowly, he began to type a reply, his fingers gliding across the screen. "It's me. You were great" he texted, his heart pounding in his chest and you couldn't help but feel a mixture of disbelief and excitement coursing through your veins when you received his message.

You quickly texted back, "Well, colour me surprised! Didn't think you'd ever join the 21st century and get on social media!"

As you awaited his response, you took a sip of your cocktail and looked around the bar. Your friends were chatting animatedly, unknowing of the conversation happening on your phone.

A few seconds later, Cillian's reply popped up. "Well, I figured it was time to embrace the modern world, even if I'm still firmly rooted in the past," he teased. You laughed and typed back, "Ah, the classic case of a technologically-challenged heartthrob!"

You couldn't help but enjoy the playful banter with him despite everything that happened between you in the past. You were rather drunk though too and it felt like old times yet fresh and exciting at the same time. It reminded you of the chemistry you had when you first met.

“Pretty much You know it” Cillian texted before another message popped up.” So, what are you up to tonight? Celebrating your big opening?" it asked.

"I am just shaking a leg at a local bar with some friends. What are you doing?" you replied, adding a winking emoji to indicate your mischievous tone, knowing very well that Cillian hated emojis.

“Watching TV, texting with you, drinking wine, pretending to be a cool dad. Not much really” Cillian replied, adding an emoji of a smiling face and sunglasses.

“You know how to use emojis? God, what happened to you?” you responded, rolling your eyes as both of you continued to exchange messages, sharing funny anecdotes from your respective evenings. The conversation flowed effortlessly, reminding you of the easy banter you used to have.

With each new text, you felt a strange mix of nostalgia and longing. It had been almost three months since you and Cillian had broken up, but there was still a lingering connection between you and then, out of the blue, Cillian's next message caught you off guard. "I miss you," it read. Simple and straightforward.

You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond. The wound was still fresh, and you were afraid of opening it up again.

"Well, that's what happens when you break up with someone," you teasingly replied, trying to keep the conversation light, but Cillian did not let up.

“I regret breaking up with you," Cillian continued, causing you to almost choke on your drink.

This wasn't how you expected the conversation to go. But then again, nothing with Cillian ever went according to plan.

Taking a deep breath, you took the plunge and typed, "Listen Cillian, I admit that I miss you too. But you hurt me and this made things complicated. We can't just pick up where we left off."

The three dots appeared, indicating that Cillian was typing a reply. You held your breath, waiting for his words to materialize on the screen as the bar around you faded into the background.

"I understand," his message finally appeared. "But could we try? Just one date? Let's see where it takes us?” he then asked and you hesitated, uncertainty swirling within you. A part of you longed to reunite with Cillian, to see if there was still something worth salvaging. But another part feared getting hurt again, fearing that the age difference would always be a roadblock.

"All right, one date!" you finally replied, a mix of reluctance and hope in your response.

“Dinner tomorrow night?” he typed quickly, making your heart skip another beat.

“Dinner it is. But no promises about dessert!" you joked, lightening the mood again with your reply.

A beaming smile broke across Cillian's face as he read your response. It was a smile that could melt hearts, that could singlehandedly revive the 90s boy band craze. You almost regretted saying yes, but alas, the damage was done.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murhpy #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic

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dearasteria · 10 months

Text

Major Gale romance SPOILERS below, so please DO NOT read and watch if you don't want to get spoiled.

I was REALLY worried about how romance with Gale would go, especially after talking to him right after he gets Karsas' book. My Tav wanted to believe and trust him, but something didn't feel right. At the end of Act II, when Tav tries to convince him not blow himself up for his ex's forgivness/to save Faerûn, it can be summed up with that one gif from Grey's Anatomy: "So pick me. Choose me. Love me" 🤡. Honestly, she asks not only to choose her, but also not to kill her and the rest of the team. Gale is so easily swayed and tells Tav that he loves her, even more than Mystra. Tav should be happy, right? But I'm like WAIT A DAMN MINUTE, it was faaar too easy, I mean, no protests from him, I didn't even have to use persuasion to convince him. At that point, after the trauma that Bioware had caused us with Anders and Solas, I'm getting paranoid. Gale doesn't love Tav, he's definitely hiding something. But I'm thinking to myself, "Okay, calm down, he just doesn't want to die, super understable. Maybe he really loves her and he needed to hear it? He needed reassurance that he has something to live for? Yes, it must be it". But then I go to the quest journal and see this:

DAMMIT GALE, you snake 🐍 My poor baby Tav (especially since the romance scene in Waterdeep was so warm and tender). She's so in love in him. Now I'm convinced that he will definetly betrey us, stubs us right in the heart.

At the beginning of Act III, he becomes obsessed with a book called The Annals of Karsus that may help him learn more about the crown. He becomes obsessed with how powerful he can become. When Tav gives him the book and says, "We already know the crown's dangerougs. Wouldn't that make things worse?" he replies:

"Worse? It could be the best thing that ever happened to me. To us."

After all this, Gale tries to convince Tav to help him reconstruct the crown. We have this beautiful scene on the boat and when I tell you my jaw dropped. HE CHOOSES TAV, listens to her concerns and simply chooses her.

The way he says it, the way he corrects himself… damn. For Tav, it's like a bucket of cold water. And I'm like, "Here we go again" 🤡

Furthermore, when we visit the Stormshore Tabernacle in Baldur's Gate and interact with Mystra's statue, he seems to feel so uncomfortable, he doesn't want to be there. Tav starts to think he's definitely hiding something. She would like to hear Mystra's version of what happened between her and Gale (I hope we can talk to her at some point in the game, it would be very interesting).

My Tav, however, disagreed, and Gale replies, "I hope you're right. I truly do. Godly power, perhaps I can live without, but you? You're everything". Has the curse of dating mages that leave players heartbroken been broken?

But I have to admit, when he said: "With you, I forget my goddess. I love you. Tell me you feel the same way. Tell me you want what I want. Please" - OH GODS 😳. I was so close to agreeing to this madness. The VA did an amazing job (side note: so many talented VAs in this game, it's mind blowing), the writing is amazing, the music is incredible, I was blown away, really.

Next day, after the boat scene, he's so adorable and full of love for Tav. Then I remembered his gratest flaw (for me it's more like his biggest fear) from the scene with Zethino in the circus: "He thinks he, and the world, might be better off if he were dead". At the time I thought he was lying, manipulating Zethino and his answers. My distrust of mages in games… Yes, I have a problem 😅

I haven't finished the game, but I have high hopes for a happy ending. No spoilers please, thanks :)

What a rollecoster of emotions, I love it, I love Gale. It felt like I was playing Dragon Age: Origins for the first time, way back when I was a teenager. It's really insane how this game makes me feel, how much I care about its characters and story.

EDIT: Okay, so we have an audience with Mystra, I mean only Gale, but we see the whole conversation between them. My only complain is that Gale doesn't mention Tav when Mystra asks him why he defied her 💔 The outcomes are different depending on whether you do it before or after the boat scene. Personally, I think doing the boat scene before meeting Mystra is much better. I get the impression that Gale is abandoning the plan to reconstruct the crown solely for Tav and his love for her. And the drama 👌🏻 it gives me life.

#sorry for the wall of text #ignore my rambling #the thing is i'm very excited and none of my friends play bg3 and my husband can't listen to me anymore 🤭#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #bg3 spoilers #Gale #gale of waterdeep #gale romance #might delete later #Tav #gale bg3

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hrts4hanniehae · 5 months

Text

clutch || one

there are written parts :)

the good thing about being a game streamer was that when you were famous, your salary was kind of high. the bad thing was that the streaming platform wonwoo uses... started taking a huge cut of his earnings, leading him to this situation.

voice call

"okay to be honest, wonwoo, you were kind of stupid in the sense that you didn't buy your house but rented instead."- mingyu

"2 years ago, i was broke, mingyu. i just finished university and needed a place big enough for me and seollie. this place was very cheap for the amount of space." - wonwoo

"can't you buy this place outright? you have the money... right?" - mingyu

"my streaming platform started taking 30% of my earnings. and the building's owner changed, so there was a rent increase. it'll take me a long time to buy this apartment outright. by the time i can, i'll be in debt." - wonwoo

"so a roommate!" - mingyu

"why can't you be my roommate?" - wonwoo

"i already bought myself a place. plus your apartment is really far from my restaurant." - mingyu

"so how do you come by every morning to cook me food?" - wonwoo

"my restaurant is only open for dinner. i'm a celebrity chef, wonwoo. if it was open the whole day, i wouldn't get any rest. anyways, talk to the girl. she may be quite a good roommate for you." - mingyu

"sure..." - wonwoo

she fixed her hair and checked her face in her camera again. this was her 5th try at apartment hunting. when her ex-boyfriend decided to cheat on her and steal her studio apartment, she lost many things. apparently, no one liked rooming with an artist because they were "messy" and may dirty the apartment.

"i swear if this guy rejects me i have no options left... please oh my god PLEASE let me stay here... don't screw up the interview..."

"yn ln?"

mind you, she had never seen her potential roommate's face before and she definitely did not expect someone of MODEL STANDARDS to be calling her name.

"jeon wunwoo?"

"wonwoo. jeon wonwoo."

ah... i've already screwed up.

"oh i'm so sorry..."

"it's fine. come on up."

she's funny... who the hell monologues out loud?

"so these will be your rooms. they're connected by the closet." - wonwoo

"i get two rooms?" - yn

"don't you need space to do your art?" - wonwoo

"oh. oh yea. thank you." - yn

"oh yea. i also have a dog, seollie. she's my family dog. i hope your not allergic." - wonwoo

"i'm not. I love dogs!" - yn

"that's good. also, there's only one bathroom so please remember to knock before entering." - wonwoo

"ah okay. wait but i thought we were having an interview. you're showing me around as if you've already decided i'm moving in." - yn

"are you not?" - wonwoo

"oh i am?" - yn

"i prefer to deal with things quickly. this roommate idea was my friend's, not mine. so i would really rather the first "candidate" be the last." - wonwoo

"i have no complaints. when can i move in? i promise i'll be out of here by the end of next year." - yn

"we have a deal. you can move in starting tomorrow." - wonwoo

"any roommate rules or do we draft that out tomorrow?" - yn

"... tomorrow." - wonwoo

"great. thanks. I'll be back tomorrow with my stuff." - yn

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

a/n - i screw up the tweet dates A LOT so please just ignore them most of the time okay... I don't like the dates either but my app doesn't let me remove them also i'm assuming seollie is a sheepadoodle and a female and i'm so sorry if i'm wrong but there's too little info on wonwoo's family dog to be accurate.

synopsis: wonwoo is a popular streamer known for his incredible gaming skills and good looks. He turned heads. but he hates the attention. he just wants to play games and earn money. one day he receives a letter. his apartment’s rent has almost doubled. no warnings at all. his current paycheck from streaming can’t shoulder those bills. he has no choice but to rent out his spare room. to who? a fresh art university graduate who has… 1. a stable job ✅ 2. talent for art and sculpting ✅ 3. many friends ❌ 4. social anxiety ✅ 5. no filter ✅ when his iconic cat logo gets copystriked, she comes to the rescue with a new logo for him. when his apartment’s walls start peeling, she fixes it. whatever he used to struggle with… the empty space... was now filled by her. so what does he *last player standing* do when her ex *enemy spotted* tries to take her back? heh. *clutch* he clutches.

inspired by wonwoo's gam3bo1 streams, falling into your smile & gogo squid (has hints of valorant)

pairing: streamer!jeon wonwoo x fem!artist!reader (ft. jeongcheol, soonhoon, junhao, seoksoo, verkwan)

genre: fluff, comfort, slowburn, comfort, pining, bestfriend!minghao

warnings: stalker ex, toxic ex, mentions of abuse, guns (game), cursing, hate comments, panic attacks

started: 28.12.23 ended: ?

taglist: join from my masterlist

main masterlist

smau socials

previous I next

tags! @fairyofhour @megseungmin @sun-daddy-yoriichi @woozixo @euphoric-univers @christinewithluv @haowonbins @ocyeanicc @asyre @cynthiaaax13 @superhoshisvt @bangantokchy @chimmy-bts @angelarin @daisawa @writingbarnes @jeonghansshitester

@belladaises @wonwootakemyheart @wonwooz1 @luchiet @kookssecret @caratsland @peachescreamandcrumble @thepoopdokyeomtouched @isabellah29 @leah-rose03 @yandere-stories @coupshour

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 1 year

Note

Okay so it's not fair if you get to perfectly capture Bale's Batman as well as every other character you write for 😅 you're too damn talented!

So, without further ado I'm going to become that person:

Dannnnyyyyyyyy gimme more Bruce Wayne

Sequel to The Other Half | Masterlist

Warnings: I'm in love with him. There, that's the warning.

When you go to bed that night, you drop off fairly quickly. You’re $500 richer, and replying the easy smiles and laughs and conversation that you’d shared with him. He’d been far nicer, and far more down to earth than you could’ve ever imagined.

The next day, your manager is a little…Grumbley. She’s sort of irritated that you spent so much time with Wayne, though she doesn’t say as much. You can tell by the way she mumbles to herself, straightens a display, glances at you, and then goes back to mumbling and straightening displays again. The day passes without incident (though a few of your coworkers come up to ask what he was like. You tell them the truth: Incredibly dreamy up close, and nicer than you expected.) As you clock out for the day and wave goodnight to the security guard, you hear someone say your name.

You turn, and catch sight of a well-dressed older gentleman that looks familiar. You think it may be the man that Bruce showed you a picture of at the diner yesterday, but you’re not entirely sure.

“...Yes?” You ask, taking a couple of steps closer to him, “Can I help you?”

“Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Alfred Pennyworth. I'm Mr. Wayne's butler.”

Your brows raise a touch. “Oh! Was there something wrong with what he purchased yesterday?”

“Not that I’m aware of. He asked me to give you this.” Alfred holds an envelope out to you. You take it carefully, unable to help the way your confusion slows you. You eye your name written on the front, then turn the envelope over in your hands. You open it, drawing out an invitation for that evening. Your eyes skim the details—the time, the place. You recognize the name of the place—Chef du Roi. It’s an upscale restaurant in one of the highest skyscrapers in Gotham. You scoff out a stunned little laugh.

“If you do plan on accepting Mr. Wayne’s invitation,” Alfred tacked on, “I will be happy to drive you to your apartment, and then to the venue.”

“Uh…” You hesitate, glancing between the invitation and Alfred a couple of times. “That is…Really kind of you, Mr. Pennyworth, but I don’t wanna waste your time.”

“No time would be wasted,” He reassures with a smile. “And Mr. Wayne has told me that I will owe you quite the thank you, come Christmas morning.”

You chuckle, shaking your head in slight surprise. You'd be a fool to say no. Besides, you enjoyed your time in Mr. Wayne's company yesterday. Why not see if you enjoy it today.

“Uh…Okay. Yeah.”

“The car is waiting outside,” Alfred gestures. You nod a little, muttering your thanks as he holds the door open for you.

You’re panicking all the way back to your apartment. You insist that Alfred come up and have a cup of something warm while you’re getting dressed. Your roommate, Michelle, makes a pot of tea while you frantically search your closet for something suitable for dinner at a rooftop restaurant with a billionaire.

You shower as quickly as you can, do your hair and makeup faster than you ever have in your life. You call Michelle in to zip your dress up, fanning under your arms to stop from sweating with panic.

“You better use extra perfume,” Michelle warns, “You’re gonna sweat right through this thing—Hang on, I have a shawl that’s gonna cover your upper arms. Maybe by the time you get the entrees, you’ll have stopped up a little bit.”

“Ugh, thank you,” You mutter, fanning at your heating face, “Oh my god, I’m gonna sweat off my makeup.”

“Calm down!”

“You calm down!”

“I see you got my invitation.”

“I did,” You nod. Bruce gives Alfred a nod over your shoulder, and you turn to look at him as well. Alfred smiles warmly, offering you a quick wink before turning away. You smile, turning to face Bruce again.

“C’mon,” He nods you closer, resting his hand on your lower back as you fall into step with him. You expect the restaurant to be bustling, but you find it…Completely silent and completely empty.

“Oh, wow,” You mumble. “Maybe this place isn’t as hard to get into as I thought.”

Bruce laughs, pulling your chair out for you.

“Thank you,” You mutter, glancing up at him.

“Of course.” He rounds to his side of the table, sitting down. “Do you prefer red, white, or rosé?”

“Rosé.”

“I can work with that.”

You smile, looking down at the menu. You skim the names of the dishes, fighting the urge to look at the prices.

“Um…I hope this isn’t rude, but, uh…” You look at Bruce from beneath your lashes. “What am I doing here?”

“Well it looks like you’re looking at a menu, but looks can be deceiving.”

You tip your head to the side, arching your brows. Bruce’s smile widens before he tacks on, “We ate at a diner yesterday, instead of some five-star something something. So, now you can see how the other half eats.”

You huff a laugh, shaking your head.

“Incredibly generous of you, Mr. Wayne. But you could’ve sent me take out from somewhere upscale.”

“Maybe I wanted to see you again.”

“Just maybe? Renting out an entire restaurant seems like a lot for a maybe.”

“Alright,” Bruce’s smile softens as he leans in a little. “I really wanted to see you again.”

“Because I don’t treat you like you’re Bruce Wayne?”

“Because I want to get to know you better…And because you don’t treat me like I’m Bruce Wayne.”

You laugh softly, leaning back in your seat a little. You can’t take the way he’s leaning in; his look is too warm, too sweet. Even though he spent most of the day yesterday showing you that he’s not some simple-minded billionaire, not the man that you've seen in the papers or on tv, it still feels so foreign and surprising. It shouldn’t—you don’t really know the man sitting across from you. You’ve spent a total of two and a half hours with him.

“So,” You look over the menu, “Have you got any recommendations for this five-star something something?”

“Not a one. I’ve never been here before.”

Your brows shoot up.

“You rented out a restaurant that you’ve never been to before?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What if we hate it?”

“Then Alfred will drive us to the nearest fast food place and we’ll get a cheeseburger.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

Bruce reaches out, resting a hand on your menu and tipping it down to get your attention.

“Watch me.”

You bite your lip to tamp your smile down, but you can’t help your grin.

“Bullshit.”

“I can’t believe you.”

“Sure you can—Are there fries in there? I thought I got fries,” Bruce frowns, tipping the greasy paper bag toward himself. You giggle, watching him rifle through it before he lets out out a triumphant grunt. You watch as he draws out a handful, cramming them into his mouth.

“Slow down! If you keep this up, you’re gonna choke.”

Bruce waves you off, taking up his milkshake to wash the fries down. You lean back against the park bench, glancing back over Gotham Harbor. The sun is just beginning to set, casting a golden glow across the water.

“Still can’t believe you rented that place out and then took me to BK’s.” “Now you know not to challenge me.”

“I learned the tasty way.”

“‘Sides, the staff at du Roi got paid, and got the night off this way. It’s a win-win,” He offers. Your gaze flickers to his lips as he raises his thumb, sucking away a few grains of salt. Your face goes warm at the sight, and you hurriedly avert your gaze again.

“Bless Alfred for braving the drive-thru,” You add.

“He’s gone through far worse for me.”

“Oh?” “Mm.”

You wait for Bruce to go on. Instead, he fishes into the paperbag for another handful of fries.

“Can I ask you something?” He asks once he’s swallowed.

“Sure.”

“You said your family moved because Metropolis was more affordable?” “Mhm.”

“Do you think they would’ve stayed if they could’ve afforded to?”

You consider for a moment. The question turns your stomach. It’s one that you’ve been grappling with yourself.

“Mm…” You look down at the burger in your hands, picking at a stray piece of lettuce.

“I don’t know,” You finally admit, shaking your head a little. “Maybe? It kinda reached a point where they were between moving to Metropolis and moving to the Narrows. I mean, the crime’s been off the charts—and even with the Batman doing everything he does, you know, my mom’s been…Panic-y. She didn’t feel safe here. Not that Metropolis has been a bed of roses, you know, I mean, they’ve got—that Mannheim situation over there, same way we had Falcone. It was kind of just a…Lesser of two evils.”

Glancing over at Bruce again, you find him staring speculatively at his burger. You bite your lip, fighting the urge to ask about his family—about what he remembers of his parents, but—

“Has Alfred gotten any hints about what he’s getting for Christmas this year?” You ask.

“Not a one,” Bruce answers without missing a beat. His gaze flickers to you again, a small smile curling his lips.

“Good,” You chuckle. “I’m glad I didn’t ruin any surprises when he turned up at the store.”

“Oh no? Didn’t ask how the gloves fit?”

“I’m not gonna lie, I was this close.”

“No—”

“You showed me his picture yesterday, I recognized him! And as soon as he said it name was Alfred, it just clicked. But—I just asked if there was anything wrong with what you’d bought yesterday. Didn’t even say that it was for him.”

“Very subtle.”

“Thank you.”

You reach into the bag, drawing out a few fries, and grinning and giggling as Bruce reaches out. He bats at your wrist, grumbling, “You’ve had yours already!”

“C’mon, you’re a billionaire. You can spare a couple fries.”

“Mm, I suppose.”

“You big baby.”

The ride back to your apartment feels sort of embarrassing. You don’t exactly live in the nicest neighborhood—you can’t imagine someone like Bruce Wayne has been anywhere near it.

Alfred opens the car door for you, smiling and nodding as you get out.

“Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth.”

“Please, call me Alfred.”

“Well, Alfred. Thank you.”

“It’s been an honor, miss. And thank you again for the tea.”

“Any time.”

You round the car, smiling and taking hold of Bruce’s proffered hand.

“I’ll be a moment,” Bruce tells Alfred. Then he turns, letting you lead the way to your front door.

“I had a nice time,” You offer softly.

“Oh?”

“Mhm. I still can’t believe you rented out Chef du Roi and then took me to fucking Burger King.”

“I’m just glad you could have it your way.”

You splutter a laugh, turning away from Bruce and shaking your head. “Unbelievable.”

“...Could I see you again?”

The question is a surprising one, and it makes you turn to look at Bruce again. He’s watching you patiently; the way he sweeps his thumb tenderly across the back of your hand tells you that he doesn’t know what you’re going to say. You’re not entirely sure yourself. You think for a moment before offering:

“I’ve never been to Taco Bell.”

Bruce’s lips split into a wide, beautiful smile.

“I think we can work with that,” He chuckles.

“Oh yeah?”

“I’ll reserve a table and everything.”

“I don’t think you can reserve a table there.”

“How would you know? You’ve never been.”

“And you have?”

“You’d be surprised by where I’ve eaten.”

“You’ve already surprised me twice in a row. I think to really shock me, you’d have to take me dumpster diving—”

“We could do that, you know.”

“Oh, the Gazette would have a field day—Prince of Gotham Dumpster Diving—and Hanging Out at Local Landfill.”

“Ouch,” Bruce laughs, lowering his arms to curl around your waist. The move catapults your heart into your throat. “C’mon, you’re better than that.”

“You just say that ‘cause you’ve seen me all dressed up.”

“I’ve seen you at work, too.”

“I’m much more presentable at work than I am in my downtime.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“I’d like to see that,” Bruce insists, raising his hand to cup your cheek.

“Well, I’m sure we could arrange—”

Before you can finish teasing him, Bruce is leaning in, pressing his lips warmly to yours. It’s far more gentle than you expect—but then again, nothing that Bruce has done has been what you expect. You let your eyes slip closed, leaning into him. Your lips pull with a small smile as Bruce pulls you just a little bit closer, his hand curling around to rest on your nape. You raise your hands, gently curling in the fabric of his coat lapels. You think he’ll draw away, but Bruce catches you off-guard again, instead gently nipping your lip, then sucking it between his lips. You tenderly nudge your nose against as the kiss cools. Bruce rests his forehead gently against yours.

You swipe your tongue across your lips, smiling as you feel Bruce’s fingers flex in your coat.

“So,” He murmurs, “Taco Bell? Tomorrow?”

You giggle, nodding.

“It’s a date, Mr Wayne.”

Part Three

#Bruce Wayne x Reader #Bruce Wayne x You #Bruce Wayne/Reader #Bruce Wayne/You #Bruce Wayne fic #Bruce Wayne imagine #Batman x Reader #Batman x You #The Other Half

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