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ladykailitha · 1 month

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Icarus Part 4

Oops! I didn't realize this one had so many chapters done. I had been using it as my "I'm stuck on the other two stories so I work on this one to clear my head" story and I currently have five chapters backlogged. So instead of Batshit Soulmates today, you're getting two of this one. One now and one tonight.

In this chapter we have Eddie doing his research and we find out how he recognized Steve. Also Jeff&Eddie besties for life!

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

The last few days in Hawkins went by in a blur. Eddie couldn’t do the research he wanted to, not without alerting everyone else what he was up to, so he focused on buying both their albums and listening to them nonstop.

“This that band you went to go see?” Wayne asked after three days of him having both albums on constant repeat. “The one you were whining about have to go to?”

Eddie sat up from where he laying on the floor with headphones on and took them off, resting them around his neck. He pulled one knee up and draped his arms around it casually.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Dustin has been gloating about it, so I would rather you didn’t add to the pile.”

Wayne crouched down so that they were eye level. “This about that secret you found out?”

Eddie opened his mouth to lie but Wayne just raised an eyebrow and he snapped his mouth shut with a click. He let out a low shuddering breath and then nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, “it’s about that.”

Wayne picked up the vinyl sleeve and looked at the cover. He studied the image a moment or two before he said, “You think that someone you know is in the band, don’t you?”

Eddie bit his lower lip and then sighed heavily. He knew he couldn’t keep it from Wayne, but he had hoped he would have been back in Cali before he realized it.

“I’m not one hundred percent sure,” he said tilting his head back, “but yeah. I think I know someone in the band.”

“You jumping to conclusions?” Wayne asked in that gruff but gentle way that was a staple of Eddie’s childhood.

Eddie looked up at Wayne and then shook his head. “I don’t know enough. Not yet.”

Wayne got to his feet with a grunt. “Good. You keep it that way. There’s probably a good reason for all that.” He waved at the vinyl sleeve. “So don’t you go pushing your friend’s buttons until you know that reason.”

Eddie nodded. “I read you loud and clear.”

Wayne ruffled Eddie’s hair and walked away, leaving Eddie with plenty of time to think.

****

Dustin was staying in Hawkins for the whole summer, so when Eddie left, he was finally on his own.

Finally able to get out of his head and do some real research. He also knew better than to do anything than listen to his own music mid-flight. Too many wandering eyes.

Any one of his fellow passengers could be some blogger, Youtuber, Tiktoker, influencer or actual fucking press.

Thankfully the flight was most empty and short.

He was met at the airport by his manager Chrissy Cunningham.

She grabbed his bag, leaving Eddie to juggle his guitar better.

“Record management has all four of you in a hotel nearby,” she told him as she stowed the bag in her trunk. “They want you sequestered this time.”

Eddie winced. It wasn’t for any music related reason, though he didn’t doubt the sequestering would help with the process.

Nope.

It was because last time Gareth and Brian went on a three day drinking bender and were too sloshed to function for at least two days after that. Almost a whole week of recording down the drain because half the band went off the rails.

“Roger that!” Eddie said with a jaunty two fingered salute.

“You can have alcohol sent to your room,” she continued as they got into the car. “But Gareth and Brian aren’t allowed. So if you share your stash, that’s on you.”

“You can count on me and Jeff not contribute to the delinquency of our bandmates,” Eddie bit out. “We were just as pissed as the label when we couldn’t get a hold of them for those five days.”

Chrissy nodded. “Fame can really do some fucked up shit to people.”

Eddie hummed his acknowledgment. “Just please tell me I’m not sharing with anyone. You know they all hate sleeping in the same room as me.”

Chrissy snorted. “Only because you stay up all hours of the night perfecting song, while they actually want to, oh I don’t know...sleep?”

Eddie cackled. He was the world’s worst insomniac when they were working on an album. The rest of the time he was a sound sleeper.

“But no,” Chrissy hummed, “you all have your own suites. With Brian and Gareth on opposite sides of the hotel so they don’t fuel each other’s vices.”

Eddie let out a deep sigh. “That’s great news.”

They went up to Eddie’s suite and he immediately got to unpacking. He couldn’t stand living out of his suitcase and didn’t know how anyone else could.

He ordered a couple of six packs of beer, his favorite vodka, and a couple of whiskys that should last him at least a couple of weeks. He stashed the beer in the suite provided mini-fridge and settled down to watch Youtube on the big screen TV.

He was just devouring everything he could on The Fallen. He started with their music videos. The one for “Kiss the Boys/Kiss the Girls” was especially sweet. He found out that the lead singer was bisexual and that the song was about finding love in whatever form that took. With a full verse on non-binary peeps despite the title.

But the videos weren’t helpful. The band themselves were rarely in them. So Eddie turned to interviews. Impromptu ones on red carpets and podcasts, as well as sit down interviews for talk shows and entertainment press.

Again the lead singer was charismatic and charming. And it was looking more and more like his theory was correct.

Then he came across the interview.

“How does Azrael see out of his mask?” the Vanity Fair interviewer asked.

The drummer pulled out another mask and handed it to Abbadon. It seemed like it was part of the shtick that the drummer never spoke.

Abbadon held up the mask to the light. “You can see that the eyes are a mesh-like material. It works like a one way mirror. You with the strong light, can’t see in, but Azrael with darkness of the mask can see out.”

Eddie hummed his interest. That was a cool trick. It meant that the drummer wouldn’t get hurt while still maintaining that anonymity.

And it appeared that the interview thought the same as they nodded along, impressed.

“What is the reason for the masks?”

Astraeus leaned forward into the mic. “Because when we first got started no one would take us seriously as ourselves?”

Just then the hotel door swung open and Eddie quickly pressed pause. He sighed with relief when he saw it was Jeff.

Jeff stopped in his tracks to stare at the screen. “Oh hey, The Fallen. They’re pretty cool.”

Eddie whipped his head around and glared at him.

“How do you know about them and I didn’t?”

Jeff laughed. “Dude, the radio embargo was you thing, not an everyone thing. They’re really good. I love their new single ‘You’. It’s really sweet.”

Eddie nodded, it was really good. It was one was of his favorites, too.

Jeff got closer to the TV. “Wait. Is this the ‘metal fans would hate us if they saw who we really are’ interview?”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah.”

“That’s such bullshit,” Jeff scoffed. “Metal fans are the most welcoming group of fans out there.”

Eddie chewed on his bottom lip and thought about Steve. And how preppy he still dressed even this far outside of high school.

“Not if they were preps,” he said softly.

That brought Jeff up short. “What now?”

“I think Abbadon is Steve.”

Jeff started laughing and laughing like he couldn’t stop. Eddie rolled his eyes and pulled up the picture he had taken of The Fallen’s lead singer. Once Jeff had gotten control of himself, Eddie showed him the picture.

“Okay...” Jeff said. “I’m not sure what this shows other than your obsession with necks.”

“Zoom in.”

Jeff rolled his eyes but did as he was told. “Okay, so what am I looking at?”

Eddie licked his lips nervously. “You see those two moles, just under his chin?”

Jeff half shrugged. “I mean, I guess.”

“Steve has moles in the exact same place,” Eddie explained. He took the phone back from Jeff and went through his IG feed. He pulled up a picture of Steve. The angle wasn’t exact, but it was close enough.

He handed it back to Jeff. “Now zoom in on the neck.”

Jeff did as he was told.

“Holy fucking shit!”

Eddie pursed his lips and chewed on the bottom one. He played with his rings and was just fidgeting.

“Dude!” Jeff cried. “We should tell someone!”

Just then Eddie’s fidgeting hit the remote and the video began playing again.

“Is there any chance of a future reveal?” the interviewer asked.

Asmodeus leaned into the mic and said, “Ask us again in ten years when we’re world famous.”

Eddie managed to get a hold of the remote to pause it again and in the resulting silence Jeff and him shared a glance.

“Fuck, dude,” Jeff said. “We can’t say shit, can we?”

Eddie shook his head. “It would be like outing a queer person before they were ready.”

Jeff came around the sofa and flopped down next to him.

“Wow,” he said with more than a little awe. “So Steve Harrington is in a metal band...” He let out a shuddering sigh. “And is good. Not just good, but damn good.”

Eddie nodded. “Is it bad that I kinda feel like I’ve been tricked?”

Jeff let out a slow breath. “Look, I’m not going to tell you how to feel, but if no one knows, that it’s not personal.”

“You mean to tell me that no one knows?” Eddie hissed, getting to feet. “Not Robin, not Dustin? Or any of the kids? Because I call bullshit!”

Jeff looked up at him. “Robin, maybe. Those two are attached at the hip. Hell, Robin could even be their slinky and sexy manager, Celeste. But Dustin, man? I wouldn’t tell that kid shit. Not if I wanted it to still be secret ten minutes later.”

Eddie fought to calm his breathing. Yeah okay. That tracked. Robin with makeup and a black wig would completely disguise her to the point that not even her own mother would recognize her if they passed on the street.

“Dustin wouldn’t–” he began but Jeff cut him off.

“This is the kid that spoiled Will’s surprise party that he was planning,” Jeff said, counting off on his fingers. “The kid that would go searching through his mom’s closets and under her bed looking for birthday and Christmas presents. The same one that announced our second album six hours before it was set to drop. I wouldn’t tell Dustin Henderson the time of day if I didn’t want everyone to know about it.”

Eddie huffed. He wanted to argue that all that was little shit. Not really that important. But then he remembered all the times where Dustin would say something out of context, something that all his friends would jump on him for, only for it to be revealed later that Dustin had spoiled some surprise. It was just that no one had realized it at the time.

This time he let out a long sigh.

“Yeah, okay,” Eddie said, sitting back down next to Jeff on the sofa. “And I know that if Steve had come to me and said he wanted to form a metal band, I would have laughed in his face.”

Jeff gave his knee a squeeze. “We all would have. So let’s do what we do best. We change the culture. We make the metal scene open to people of all walks of life, not just the freaks and outcasts. We make it safe for them to come out.”

Eddie let out a shuddering sigh. “Yeah. I could do that. We could do that.”

“Good,” Jeff said, patting Eddie’s knee. “It’s not going to be easy, but we’ve never liked easy.”

Eddie laughed as Jeff got up. “So what are you doing in my room anyway? Don’t you have your own?”

Jeff opened the mini fridge and took out a can of beer. “I forgot to order beer and I hate it warm, so I thought I’d steal one of yours.”

Eddie threw a throw pillow at him, which Jeff deftly caught and lobbed back at him.

Jeff came over and kissed his cheek. “Get out of your head and do something with all that restless energy you’ve built up with this eating away at you.”

Eddie let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, man. Thanks.”

Just as Jeff reached the door, he called out. “What would you and the boys think about inviting them to open for us on our next tour?”

Jeff grinned. “They would probably kiss you on the mouth.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Duly noted.”

****

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Tag List: @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @papergrenade @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @goodolefashionedloverboi @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @yikes-a-bee @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rockstar steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar au

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underscorehealy · 23 days

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birthday sleepover: matty healy birthday fic 3

wc: <1000

cw: none

an: sadly, this is the last installment of the birthday universe, but today is matty's 35th birthday!! happy birthday, matty!! we love you so so much!! and as always, i hope you guys enjoy <3

-------------------------------------------------------

even though you and matty have been dating for a few months now, you didn't have a lot of money to afford to move in with matty. plus, he lives 45 minutes away from your job, and you only live 10 minutes away, so you promised him that when you have enough money, you'll move in with him

you live in a tiny little flat. the perfect size for just you, but if matty wants to stay the night or it just happens like that and either one of you ends up falling asleep, you're more than happy to let him stay. and you two are so in love.

with his birthday on a monday, you had really hoped it wouldn't interfere with your work schedule, but you had decided to take monday and tuesday off to celebrate with him. with george helping charli finish her album, ross in america with chloe, and adam with carly and his son, everybody else was busy so you had promised yourself to make matty's day as special as possible.

you invited him to sleepover at your flat monday night into tuesday and without even thinking about it, he said yes instantly. so with monday arriving, you spent all morning decorating your flat and buying him just one more present. and just in the nick of time, you heard the door open. "happy birthday, matty!!" you yelled as you stopped what you were doing and instantly ran over to him. he let out a giggle trying to catch his breath. "thank you so much, sweet girl." he said placing a kiss on your head.

you both just decided to order takeout for dinner and some cupcakes you had baked earlier for tonight. after dinner, you dragged him up to your bedroom just for him to turn red at the sight of rose petals spread across your blanket and a card and present wrapped in a bow. you sit him down as he begins to read through the card

"matty -

i feel like the luckiest girl in the world to be writing this right now. that's because i am the luckiest girl because i have you. you are the sweetest, caring, loving, funny, )and a bit of a smartass) boyfriend i could ever ask for. you're always here for me on my best days and worse days. you never fail to comfort me when something goes wrong and you listen to everything i have to say with such an open heart and open mind. i'm so happy i get to go on this journey through life with you and i promise to never take it for granted and that i'll always be around and i'll love you forever and always no matter what.

- yours truly"

you notice him tear up at your words, and he pulls you in for a deep, longing kiss. you never want to leave this position. you both spend the rest of the night in each other's arms watching whatever dumb show is on tv until you both end up falling asleep

#matty #matty the 1975 #the 1975 #bfiafl #drive like i do #at their very best #iliwysfyasbysuoi #matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy x reader #matty35

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veyette · 8 months

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So, finally listened to "To Who(m)ever wants to hear" and it was great !

1. Everest

2. UIEUD

3. Spotlight

4. Invincible

5. Kind of Love

6. Slow down

7. Paranoïd

I am an Alec Benjamin's listener so I knew Dream's songs would certainly be my style of music (still loving Change your clothes, the first one who made it into my spotify) but still, very good surprise.

I was a bit apprehensive bc I am not a fan of excerpts : I mean, either the excerpt is good and the rest of the song will feel disappointing bc not as imagined (like when you hear a music part on tiktok and then listen to the whole song... the rest pales) or the excerpt is mid and it's not really enthusiastic. BUT it's still the best way to build expectation and boost a song and it's nice to see the theories around so u know, still really glad we had them !

I am also really glad he started by publishing UIEUD and Everest, bc they do feel apart of the rest of the songs (one is a collab, the other really personnal and yet shared in its story).

As for my listes explanation :

1. Everest

2. Until I End Up Dead

-> They both had recency bias though, I think I'll need to redo a classement when I'm used to the others. And I was right to call it that bc now that I've listened to the others I changed my mind ahah, I'll have to actualise this.

They were "outside" for me bc it's been two months since I started listening to them and in music, 2 months to get used to a song is very long. Music is about familiarity after all. They're set as 1 - 2 but really, I like them for different reasons. Both are great rythm and melody wise, and have cool clips.

Everest was heavily carried by Yung Gravy (professional rapper and I feel the difference), had some great lines.

UIEUD is more emotionnal still, and will always be. And it's not only emotionnal for Dream but for the public too, it's an hommage for a reason.

3 (or 1st ?) Spotlight

4. Invincible (like u)

3 and 4 were really close but Spotlight was really hear catchy for me. I already was singing along after the first listening. It's, dare I say, more mainstream in the way I can definitely imagine clips to it or maps made on this song. I can hear it on the radio. Invincible is a very very close second though because of the lyrics and the music. Definitely my favorite in terms of "Dream's songs", but I'm not sure I could share it with friends outside the fandom.

5. Kind of Love

I love Kind of Love's music clip, go see it on ytb if u didn't already. I like the melody and the lyrics too, though the bits I heard made me think the song would be different so... I've to get used to it.

6. Slow down

7. Paranoïd

6. and 7. are on the same foot for me and it's funny bc they are totally parralleled in my taste. I loved Slow down "leak" and thought it'd be in my favorites, kinda like the first listen but a bit stagnant after (sorry but this song compete with Invincible and Spotlight, it's nothing against the song itself). While Paranoïd... I didn't like the bit leaked (song wise), I thought the song would be way to cut and dry for me to appreciate it and I was right about that. But the more I listen to it the more I like it, it grows on me real fast (even though I still find the chorus too hard and broken for my personnal taste).

All in all I obviously love the album and I encourage you to either check it out (and download it!). I wasn't sure about buying the cd but the songs are really good and yeah, I'll economize for it.

I hope the lucky ones that go to the concert have the best time there !

#dreamwastaken #drusic #if anyone wants to share their own list !#pls do it #i want to read reaction

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violcts · 8 months

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𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑 — a twenty-seven year old pop singer who's got more problems than she can count, penned by 𝓯𝓮𝓻𝓫 for 𝖓𝖊𝖕𝖔𝖋𝖒. INTRODUCTION , PLAYLIST & PINTEREST.

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒

ashley moore. she/her. cis woman. › spotted at the met steps , violet spencer , most likely listening to bug like an angel by mitski with their airpods pro . the twenty-seven year old gained quite a reputation , known to be -underhanded yet +sturdy to anyone who knows them . you'll easily spot them when you hear about red velvet notebook that carries all of the secrets she keeps , screaming at the bottom of a swimming pool just to watch the bubbles float away , a glass with just a little bit of whiskey remaining — left untouched for days — an improvement , screaming and crying on stage , followed by good fortune by viktor & rolf. latest nepoupdates article talks about rehab era for america's favorite sad girl singer? violet spencer seen leaving treatment center in upstate new york! , but i guess any reputation is good reputation .

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐒

full name: violet marie spencer

nicknames: vio, v.

birthday: january 29, 1996

zodiac: aquarius

hometown: upper east side, new york & long island, new york

occupation: singer-songwriter

sexual orientation: bisexual

face claim: ashley moore

career claim: phoebe bridgers

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒

REHAB ERA FOR AMERICA'S FAVORITE SAD GIRL SINGER? VIOLET SPENCER SEEN LEAVING TREATMENT CENTER IN UPSTATE NEW YORK — TMZ, 17 July 2023 VIOLET MOORE LOSES ALL FIVE GRAMMY AWARD NOMINATIONS: SEE LIST OF WINNERS ! — Vanity Fair, 4 February 2023 BREAKING: THREE KILLED IN ACCIDENT ON LONG ISLAND EXPRESSWAY — Metro New York, 1 December 2022 READ OUR REVIEW OF NEWEST ALBUM FROM INDIE PHENOM, VIOLET MOORE — Pitchfork, 15 September 2022 VIOLET MOORE CALLS IT QUITS WITH ACTOR BEAU — The Daily Mail, 18 March 2022

𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍

violet's six years old when she realizes that the world doesn't end at the long island expressway. her father takes her into town, to see the cranberries live, and it changes her entire world. she looks up at the woman onstage, and knows that's who she wants to be, one day. she gets a guitar for her birthday, just two months later, and the rest is history.

that's the pretty little story, tied up with a bow, that she'll tell any music magazine. it's not as if there's anyone to call her out on it, anymore. her family's dead, her life's a ruin - what's making herself a little more palatable to the masses, if it makes her feel better? the lying didn't start there, it never does, but the rewriting of history will follow her forever.

the truth - she went to that cranberries concert and fell asleep during it. her father didn't buy her a guitar until she was ten and she had to beg and plead for it. they didn't want her to be an artist - they wanted her to be a lawyer, just like them. just like her older sister.

but she's talented, blowing people away at talent shows with melancholy tones and whining songs that don't really stick. teen angst hits her hard, and she falls into listening to nirvana and paramore, anything emo enough to get her in tune with her emotions - and it's the only thing that makes her feel... real. once she starts recording music, she doesn't stop.

the new york indie scene is hard to navigate, but she's a bit smarter on her feet, a bit quicker than the others to pick up on things. she scores an opener gig, wanting to be the headliner one day. that gig leads to another, and before she knows what's hit her she's recording her first album. it all happens so, so fast. she doesn't know what to do with herself - her head spinning at the whiplash from being just one of guys, lugging her own equipment, to critical acclaim.

and she sells herself well, violet's good at twisting a story just a bit - to get you to believe in her. she's good at press, good at just... talking about herself. bubbly and fun, with a little bit of biting sarcasm that people seem to eat up.

somewhere along the way, she meets them. they're an actor, and they're beautiful, and she falls deeply in love. she tells the truth, for once in her life - the whole truth, to him. and it's easy to do - no embellishment, no perfect fairy tale. and maybe she should have told the fairy tale, because it all blows up spectacularly in her face, because she's too stupid to realize when someone's coming on to her - and he knows she lies, even if never once lied to him.

she blows up overnight, it feels like, with the release of her second album. and then she's on her own tour, and it's fucking lonely, and she gets lost. the drink is easy to get her mind off it - and things spiral so quickly from there. before she knows it, she's too drunk to stand up and sing at the funeral of her parents and sister. not that anyone could expect her to be normal enough to go on, but she did. she expected better.

it's the turning point, four months of her life sank into a treatment center to fix herself. it works, by some miracle - even if it's not great for press. the world has to be ready to meet the new and... slightly improved violet. even if she's not quite ready to return, terrified she'll go right back to those bad habits.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

THE EX — they fell in love fast and hard, and violet knew that he was the only one for her. too bad she always fucks everything up, and that was no different with this. one night, plenty of drinks and a few well placed pick up lines from another man ruined everything. the truth was - he just couldn't trust her, she'd given him too many reasons not to. it's bitter - but i imagine the wound has healed a bit. with his career taking off, though, fans are beginning to question what happened - and neither of hem are really ready to face that. (taken by kahlil louis)

THE BANDMATES — getting out of rehab had her questioning everything, and leaning on her very best friends in the world. this group would be very boygenius-core, just three absolute best friends collaborating between their own albums and supporting each other wholeheartedly. (1/2 taken by luna dominguez-herrera)

PLATONIC — people who knew her pre-rehab, who liked her when she was partying ; people who only know who she is now, who might actually be very helpful in her recovery ; plenty of fairweather friends she's made in the industry, who she'd honestly love to try and connect with on a deeper level .

ROMANTIC — at the moment, she's as emotionally unavailable as it comes - to everyone except her ex, but she's not completely closed off from flings that are expected to mean absolutely nothing.

ANTAGONISTIC — people who think she's not quite deserving of what she has ; people she went on a twitter rant against during her "drinking all the time" days ; give this woman some haters!!!!

#nepofm.intro #intro #pinned!#addiction tw #alcohol tw #death tw

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allylikethecat · 1 month

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hello!!! i missed talk shop tuesday but im assuming i can still come to chat :)

How long have you been a 1975 fan and when did you decide to become a fic writer for the fandom?

most played 1975 song of all time?

if you could choose any artist for a musical collaboration who would you want?

and lastly, just for fun what is your hottest take just in general not necessarily about the fandom?

You are ALWAYS welcome to come chat!! My inbox is ALWAYS open and I get so ridiculously excited that people even want to chat with me so THANK YOU!

I've been a fan of The 1975 for too long at this point 😂 I discovered them during the self titled era via Tumblr / Chocolate being played on the radio my senior year of high school. I thought Matty was super hot 😂 I actually still have the promotional Twitter DMs that they sent out during the ILIWYS era saved on my account because looking at them makes me laugh - wow have we come so far! (I also distinctly remember watching them on SNL the first time and the TRSMT festival performance with my college roommate and her being like whoa he is not okay) HOWEVER, I didn't get involved in the fic writing side of the Fandom until last year. I had done some lurking on AO3 over the years, but never fully committed to it. Then BFIAFL came out and holy crap did that album just like totally consume me, it also lined up with my life totally falling apart and so I dove extra head long into anything to do with the boys as a little bit of an escape / distraction a good IRL friend of mine was the one who encouraged me to actually start writing my own fic and posting it / making a fic Tumblr and now here we are 😂

Probably The City - I'm not actually entirely sure because I've been listening to this band for so flipping long that I had to listen to A PHYSICAL CD IN MY FIRST CAR and also this was like prespotify for me and I had to BUY THE SONG ON iTUNES and listen to it that way. So we're talking about me trying to pull and compile data from multiple places. I do however know that was my first favorite The 1975 song and I did listen to it on repeat obsessively for a while there.

Not to be controversial but I would KILL for that scrapped Taylor / The 1975 collab - think their voices would really complement each other as would their writing styles and George's production. I don't really enjoy a lot of the Taylor stuff that's been happening lately because as a football fan I hate Travis Kelce, and I hate how her fans treated Matty last spring and I don't want him to have to go through that again but WOW I feel like a song between them would be incredible.

Hottest take in general? Hmmm I am a wealth of hot takes... honestly my instinct was to say that I fucking hate bean sprouts they are little strings of evil but I think that's just because I got dinner with some friends tonight and I forgot to say no beansprouts in my pad thai and was just like traumatized by the pile of them on top. They all laughed at me because my hatred of bean sprouts is very well known. I'm sorry that's a very lame hot take. OH ALSO NOT ALL FUCKING HORSES CAN BE BAREFOOT AND NOT ALL HORSES SHOULD BE BAREFOOT REGARDLESS OF WHAT SOCIAL MEDIA WARRIORS SAY. I FUCKING WISH POP COULD BE BAREFOOT IT WOULD SAVE ME SO MUCH MONEY BUT ALAS HE LIKES HAVING PIECES OF STEEL NAILED TO HIS FEET EVERY FIVE WEEKS.

Thank you so much for sending this in!! Getting to chat and ramble on was so exciting!! Thank you so much! I hope you had a wonderful day and that you have the best rest of your week!

❤️Ally

#allylikethecat #ask ally #anon ask #keep it kind #fanfiction #fanfic #questions #answers #talk shop tuesday #on a wednesday lol #i apologize if my hot takes aren't very hot #my mind literally went blank #i am passionate about the shoeing thing #i get so mad when people are like all horses should be barefoot #yeah well the ground where i live is so rocky and pop and i trail ride on the weekends #his feet would wear off into nothing if he didnt have shoes #he likes his shoes #i wish i didnt have to pay for them #but they make him happy and keep him sound so he gets them

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thisselflovecamebacktome · 2 months

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Okay so I've deliberately left this until my dash had quietened down because I didn't want to add to the mayhem but I still wanna share my thoughts on why multiple versions with different songs frustrates me.

I am a CD listener. My car, where I listen to a lot of music, does not have the properties to allow streaming but does have a CD drive. And in general I don't stream outside of my car much either so them going onto streaming one day means nothing to me.

I am also a busy person and do not particularly have time to be making my own CDs with all the tracks on them, and quite frankly, feel like if I'm going to illegally download the songs (because god knows I do not have the money for multiple versions), I may as well just illegally download the whole album. Like the point of me buying physical media is that I want to support her and in return get the whole picture.

I feel like it cheapens the art to separate the story. Now is there times where separating the art and having alternate endings can work? Absolutely. I think Folklore and Evermore do this well with their deluxe versus standard tracks. But you do not need version exclusives for that, and while yeah obviously it's always been about the money and capitalism, it just highlights that it's a cash grab to me.

In saying that, worst comes to worst it'll just be the case where if there's not a deluxe with all of the songs before release day, I will simply listen to them each once on day one when they are illegally online (because I imagine they won't come to streaming straight away, otherwise I will stream them for that listen), pick my favourite variant and simply not listen to the rest (like with Midnights atm). It's a shame because I would love to appreciate all of her music in a way that reasonably supports her, but yeah, it is what it is and that's what it will be.

#taylor swift

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lastchancevillagegreen · 4 months

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Tuesday, 2 January 2023:

The Darden Smith bundle.

In 1989 I bought my first, and last, Darden Smith album. It was Evidence and actually it was by Darden Smith and Boo Hewerdine. It was fantastic, but I never investigated either artists any further and I was fine with that. Sometimes it just happens, one album by an artist is sufficient enough to carry you through for the rest of your days.

But these days I tend to explore the entirety of an artist's catalog, buying everything by them and listening to them chronologically so I can hear growth, change, whatever over the course of that person or band's career.

This stack of ten CDs you see in the photo above is not the entirety of Darden Smith's catalog. This stack essentially covers his discography from 2002 to 2022 (roughly, I'll break it down at the end of this entry). That excludes his work from his debut in 1986 up to 1993 when he released six albums. I would always rather hear an artist's earlier years than their later years if I have to do an abbreviated catalog study. Quite frankly, I'd rather not even study Smith's career, no offense to him.

Here's how it happened. My brother, the original Mr Catalog Study has been doing one on Smith since last year. He will occasionally post a Darden Smith song on God's Jukebox and it is generally good. But honestly, I'm a hundred years old and I've heard Americana music to death and I'd rather not engage with a new artist (to me) in that genre at this moment in time. I have a dozen other full catalogs to explore that I've not yet heard, so an Americana artist is way down low on my list of catalog studies. Still, my brother's enthusiasm bled over into my mind. And then he told me on Smith's website he is selling ten of his albums on CD for $50. What a deal! In my greedy mind ten albums for $50 is such a bargain why would you ignore it?

I almost hit the buy it now button on Smith's site but then I came to my senses. The last thing I wanted was ten late career albums by an artist who never intrigued me beyond the aforementioned Evidence, which is so good, I pulled it out and began playing last September when my brother bought his Darden Smith bundle.

Well, I was playing Evidence a lot, late at night. Mrs Echo was gone again for a week at a time and I'll often sit upstairs late, playing albums, having a couple of Shiners and evidently, after a few beers from Brew Works, I went home and played Evidence and had a couple more drinks and then...

...I awoke in the morning to a Pay Pal receipt in my email telling me I authorized $50 to Smith. I was so unhappy with myself that I ignored the fact I did this. That was September. Quite frankly I forgot about doing that foolish act until Christmas when my brother came to town and he told me he had to write Smith because it has been four months and nothing has ever shown in his mailbox. Smith himself responded that he has had distributor problems or something, I've already forgotten because I didn't want to be reminded of my failing will power. Long story short, Smith assured my brother his package will arrive shortly. I knew that must hold true for myself, even if I no longer wanted the damn things.

I am so angry with myself, my lack of will power, my greed and my enjoyment of Brew Works/ Shiner Bock. Oh well, now I'm stuck, I'm not buying more Smith, his catalog study will include this stack of ten and then I'm done. I don't need 18 Darden Smith albums crowding my CD shelf. Ten is bad enough.

Starting at the bottom of that stack in the photo above, here are the ten albums:

Deep Fantastic Blue (Plump Records) (released in 1996)

Sunflower (Dualtone) (released in 2002)

Circo (Dualtone) (released in 2004)

Field of Crows (Dualtone) (released in 2005)

Ojo (not on label) (released in 2006)

After All This Time: The Best of Darden Smith (Darden Music) (released in 2009)

Marathon (Darden Music) (released in 2010)

Love Calling (Compass Records) (released in 2013)

Everything (Compass) (released in 2017)

Western Skies (not on label) (released in 2022)

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hueningshaped · 2 years

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omg my ult ults me back????🥹🥹 i'm a successful fan😎 nope i will always find a way >:D you are so ☹️☹️ i have the first update already !! i have one (1) uni friend and me and her have pretty much developed separation anxiety so we always try to get into all the same courses but this semester it didn't work in one of our courses so both of us are very much like AND i am very unlucky with my schedule because i have uni every day now and it's so tiring because 4/5 days i only have class for 1.5 hours and i live a little further away so i have to commute for twice as long as i'm actually there😐 i hate it here. HAVE YOU SEEN THE SEULO TEASER!!!! i almost lost my mind i need it her to drop it ASAP (whoo woo 눈앞에 눈앞에 나타나 줘) !! not you researching apple types??😭😭😭 it's literally you as #1 cutest person in the world and then 10 spaces empty😔 AHHHH i'm so happy you like the new theme i am also very much 💗💘💕💓in love💓💕💘💗 with yours!! no bc ur right beomgyu really is just SO beomgyu😣 and AHHHH 2.0 i'm happy you liked the song too :(( i really liked ioi and i only stumbled upon the news of her solo by accident but i'm so happy she finally got it, her and chungha were my biases🥹🫶🏻 omg NOOO i really hope you managed to pass ur exam (pls update me i won't be able to rest otherwise :/) and i hope the closing shift was alright too!! AND !!!!!! i forgot to ask last time (literally so vile and evil) but how is your eye i hope that stye is gone by now because it's literally been like three decades since you mentioned it😟 oooohhh i hope you get to read more literature soon!! (plus get the sleep and rest you deserve😾) i also wanted to read a book over the summer but i procrastinated so much that i only started like two weeks ago but i had to stop again because my exams are coming up and i have to study for them which is another thing i'm procrastinating on😁👍🏻 omg the person i was during my 1d days ..... my actual dark past ..... i stanned them from early 2013 to early 2014 and then i kind of lost interest UNTIL the literal earth-shattering day that march 25, 2015 was and i started stanning them again but only until the start of 2016 because right after i started my kpop phase 🫥🫥 i haven't really been keeping up with them that much i've only listened to a few of their singles and i enjoyed the memes that followed the liam drama this year way too much😭😭 omg that first video literally one of my favorites ever i love seeing them just chilling off camera plus him incorporating head and shoulders knees and toes into his freestyle⁉️🤨 NOOOO the cheering he is so 😣😣😞😿 and omg the song!!!!! this message is already so long ur probably gonna be like bffr once you see this😭 so here is your first your second and your third link I LOVE U ALWAYS AND FOREVER!!!!!

pleaseee ur my angel but yes hehe we’re mutual ults 🥹💗 how lucky is that 🤯 awww omg an update already yay but aw im sorry also that video is so funny but in the context it’s so 💔💔💔 how disheartening 🥺 omg i hate that !!!! why can’t uni just understand and be more flexible with schedules <///3 commuting being longer than actual class time is so 0/100 would NOT recommend >:(( i hope u find time to rest throughout all this even though ik already that’s it’s difficult to make time btw actual in school and commuting and life 😮‍💨 and omg the seulo mv 😳 “i kiss your brother” SEULGI?!1!1!!3!:!: i really really love songs with a bass line as powerful as that one ~ ive yet to listen to the rest of the album / have you ?? also this is such a random question but do u buy albums or photocards ? :0 hehe anyway (pls ur the absolute cutest to ever exist and to bring meaning to the word ‘cute’) haha….. apparently i failed so terribly…. which is bad bc initially i thought i’d done better… it’s a lot to explain but haha… (you are the furthest thing from evil ARE U KIDDINGNNEME u are the kind of good that gives people hope to keep living to keep dreaming and loving and anyway) my stye went away eventually so yay! there isn’t enough time in the world is there hm 🥺 i hope we both can read books at our own leisure/whenever we want to soon 🤹 best of luck on ur exams !!!! let me know how those go (also plz get ur sleep and eat and be hydrated) omg a directioner too? 🥹 they were dark times…. almost forgot about freaking liam drama ahhh we were so happy then (well sorta hehehe) OH GOODNESS UR LINKS *hand over heart* im… 💔 yeonjun being a lookalike to the short bangs kitty im so in luv ahh and their protocol team :”) it makes me happy to know they’re taken care of and besides that they have fun with each other it warms my heart 😿😿 worlds colliding abby huening is definitely meant to be part of ive idk 😮‍💨 slayyyyy hehe sorry i feel like i didn’t say anything of substance in this reply which is absurd especially after such a pathetically long delay ☹️ during the final week of september my sister came to visit (she lives 1000 miles / 1609 km away) and i had lots of fun and when she left everything went downhill and i haven’t been well and with the little time i have to myself im just exhausted 🥺 im sorry i didn’t mean to mar this response to you not bring u anything but positivity bc u deserve the best 🥺 i withdrew from one of my classes due to how overwhelmed i was and im just trying to take each day at a time at the moment 👍👍 so i hope to be better 💌 HEY WAIT AHH DID YOU SEE UMM UMM TXT NEW HAIR COLOR?2!!2!2!;!/ APPLE, WE GOT BLOND SOOBIN!!!!! PINK TYUN!!!! BROWN 🧸 BEOMGYU!!!!! BLACK HAIRED YJ!!!!! PRINCELIKE BLACK HAIR HYUKA!!!!! at a loss of words……. please update me with ur life and with school and everything! i TRULYYYY hope things are going better and that u at least enjoy the classes u share with ur friend and that ur commutes are safe 🥺 here are ur links 📃~ this impeccable cover of beomgyu, another cover of his hahaha, this tweet, and a song (this song is so sad ive only been listening to sad music lately whoopsies) also sorry my links are lacking :( i’ll do better next time 🫶 i know i only ever give you 2% when u give me 10000% and i apologize i love u and i don’t ever wish to take u for granted 🥺 please take care always ~!! 💗❤️💗❤️💗 (tyssssssm for the pics they’re so cute and beautiful i love them)

#[❤️⭐️]—aquí te amo #ask >3<#apple my love #dream suite

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riqomi · 2 years

Text

➞ In which you and mark decide to go for a date.

WARNING THIS WILL CONTAIN CUSS WORDS, MATURE STUFF! , ETC.

- suggestive/smut, i really wanted to write a detailed smut but i have no idea how 💀 SO SORRY FOR THE CLIFF HANGER

wc ; 0.8k

SECOND POV

YOU wish you could lie to yourself and say that you had no idea how you got into this mess.

but you can't.

you know exactly how.

MARK had finally finished promoting the new 'hot sauce' album with the dreamies and now has a chance to take a break before it gets released.

He was driven to your apartment yesterday and collapsed on your couch. You remember taking in his tired features: the way his hair flopped over his face, his droopy chocolate-brown eyes, and the way his rosy parted lips would take each inhale and exhale- as if he was sleeping. You remember him holding you tight and placing lazy kisses along the underside of your jaw while you rambled on about your day.

You remember the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he let out the prettiest of laughs. The way he'd attentively listen to you when you'd get passionate about something in particular.

Sometimes he won't even speak; he'd just listen. He had you completely whipped. You didn't even know how a girl like you could attract thee Mark Lee, but you did. You wouldn't change this for anything.

Towards the end of your night, Mark mentions that he wants to watch the newest Jumanji. The both of you had said many and many times before that you were going to watch it, but your busy schedules would not permit it.

"for goodness sake y/n why the hell did you buy so many snacks, it's not like we're gonna starve," Mark grumbled. You smirked playfully "I was just thinking we could eat the rest at home if there are any leftovers" you responded as Mark pushed the double door open. "Oh well."

He shrugged you figured out that was his kind of way of agreeing, seeing that he does it so often. Stopping at the foot of the stairs, your eyes scanned around the room looking for the perfect spot.

There were loads of more people than you expected so you nearly missed the two empty spaces situated smack bang in the center of the cinema. "mm, I kinda wanna sit-" "The back." You turned to Mark noticing that his gaze was upon the three rows of seats at the back. "but Mark there are seats in the middle." you stated, stumbling up the stairs after him.

"I wanna sit at the back today. We have a whole three rows to ourself" he explained as he turned his head around, only to see with a suspicious look on his face changed. "Not like that you horndog. I can blow your back out when we get home" he offered a little too loudly. "shh! mark!" you hissed with a scowl painting over your features.

MARK had one arm wrapped around your shoulder, while the other hand was resting on his thigh. The silence was killing you. You were slowly beginning to grow impatient, the movie playing on the widescreen was starting to uninterest you.

Suddenly the idea of teasing him clicks, you slowly place your hand on his thigh lightly squeezing it. You look up to see if he notices anything, but he doesn't. So you slowly move your hand closer towards his crotch, which he notices, quickly. He looks down at you, giving you a stern look meaning that you should stop what you're doing. "We're in public, stop," he whispers. But you still let your hand rest in his thigh, squeezing it from time to time.

And that was until he had enough. "The car. Now."

MARK SLAMMED, the door shut, making you flinch in shock, "take your clothes off" he said sternly.

AS u were taking off your clothes, you quickly glanced over and saw mark already laying on the bed, waiting for your touch. You were finally completely naked, crawling up on the bed, right in front of his dick. "Suck," he said. You quickly took a hold of his member and began kitty licking it. Just to annoy him. "babe, please" he groaned lowly. But you being stubborn you keep on giving kitty licks.

Mark had enough of this behavior and he finally took control and started taking hold from the back of your head, making u bob ur head up and down. his thick cock abused the end of your throat, causing tears to sting your eyes and your eyebrows to furrow. the boy beneath you groaned in ecstasy at your mouth taking him in so aggressively and he couldn't help but thrust upwards frantically, wanting to chase his orgasm quick.

after a few more thrusts, the warm white, robes of his cum went down your throat, making you swallow the sweet yet salty taste of his load.

Slowly looking up, through your drowsy eyes, you gave him a small smile. "now let me return the pleasure" he whispered.

#nct dream x reader #nct mark #nct scenarios #nct smut #mark lee smut #nct dream reactions #nct dream suggestive #nct 127 smut #nct 127 mark #superm smut #nct dream smut #mark smut

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indiee19 · 3 years

Text

This Waiting Is Driving Me Wild

Alex Turner x reader

Summary: A buzzed haired Alex teases you all throughout an awards event; you reject him at first, and he makes you regret it later.

warnings: smut, light bondage, spit kink, edging

word count: 5.6k

-Requested from Wattpad

a/n: I have no damn clue if the kink shit is correct, so don't mind that, also I may change it later, so who knows

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑ ✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You felt anticipation build up in the pit of your stomach whenever they announced the nominees for the best alternative album of 2018 category: Colors by Beck, Masseduction by St. Vincent, and Tranquility Base Hotel + Casino by Arctic Monkeys.

You held your breath, every inch of your body hoping for Alex's band to win, then they called the winner.

"And the winner is ... Tranquility Base Hotel + Casino by the Arctic Monkeys," the presenter called, stopping in between words to read the winner of off the card. You and everybody else in the room clapped and as the band stood up, Alex gave you a kiss, then walked up to the stage with the rest of the band to accept the award.

He winked at you while he was walking up the stairs without anyone but you knowing, making you blush. He walked up to the stand and took the microphone from the lady, beginning to speak. "One, two. One, two, there we go. Well, I would first of all like to thank everyone who has supported us by listening to the album, buying it, and coming to our shows. I'm very glad that you all enjoyed it enough for us to win, and for that, I'd like to say thank you, this truly does mean a lot," he said, Matt and Nick chattering behind him.

Alex said thank you one last time before they walked off stage, walking back to the table, sitting down beside you. He placed a chaste kiss on your cheek, placing the award down on the table. They soon started to call the next award nominees, and most everyone paid attention to it, you included. Alex on the other hand was watching you and you saw out of the corner of your eye that he licked his lips, one of his hands coming up to your thigh, rubbing dangerously close to the hem of your dress, coming closer and closer to go under it.

You quickly grabbed his hand and pushed it away, leaning over to tell him something. "Alex, we can't, not here, not now. We're at an awards event, one where your album is nominated," you said sternly. He bit his lip and looked as if he was deep in though, which he normally was, always coming up with the perfect response to everything.

"But, baby, you look so sexy and I don't know how much longer I can wait to 'ave you," he said, whispering in your ear, rubbing your thigh again. You moved your hand over his to top him from moving up your thigh. You turned to pay more attention to the rest of the awards ceremony.

They called the next category and said the nominees' names, another host going up to the stage to announce the winner, everyone clapping their hands, you included, when they did. While the winner was giving a small speech, Alex leaned over and kissed your neck lightly, making you look back him and give him a glare as a warning to stop. He just smirked, knowing just how to get you riled up.

He leaned over, whispering another profanity in your ear. "Baby, you look so sexy in that dress. I can't wait to have you."

"Well, you have to wait," you replied, kissing his cheek, grabbing his hand to stop him from moving any further up your leg. You looked into his eyes, waiting for him to respond, but he didn't.

You tried to be patient, hoping that he would realize that you couldn't do anything with him at the moment, and maybe not at all tonight since you would get home late and be really tired - or at least that's what you thought.

The winner walked off stage and they started to announce the next category. Though as you watched and listened, Alex started back up again with his teasing, his hand now going up your dress, ignoring your previous warnings, finding its way to the hemline of your panties, toying with it.

"Alex," you warned, grabbing his wrist to stop him from going any further than he already was. "I told you, you have to wait until we get home."

"But, baby, this waiting is driving me wild, and I know that it's driving you wild too, can't tell me otherwise," he said, getting more confident at the end of the statement. You laughed. "No, it's not actually. Because, unlike you, I'm not horny twenty-four seven," you said, turning away.

"Don't lie to me, I know 'ow horny you get. Remember the 2014 BRITS?" he said nonchalantly, whispering in your ear. You lied and said you didn't, but you did.

"God, Alex, please just take me already," you moaned, his tip teasing your entrance. You'd begged all throughout the awards ceremony for him to take you to the bathroom and fuck you, and he finally gave in, escaping the after party, leaving and going home.

He was now teasing you, making sure that you were a whimpering mess for him. He cocked his head and pushed himself all the way inside you.

It was a very, very long night.

"Yes, you do. You're thinking about it now, aren't you?" he said, kissing your cheek. You rolled your eyes and tried your best to ignore him, pushing his hands away, dodging his kisses, tuning him out, insisting that you talk to Katie and Jamie instead.

You were able to make it through another thirty minutes of the ceremony, Alex taking a break from being a narcissistic, horny, teasing asshole. Though after the thirty minutes was gone, he started right back where he started. It didn't matter how many times you told him no, your warnings only fueled him even more, getting bolder and bolder each time.

He leaned over to you when no one was looking, everyone else far too focused on the stage. "Baby, when we get home, I'm going to fuck you up," he whispered, gripping your thigh tightly. Though his words weren't abnormal for him, they did take you by surprise. You looked at him, surprised by his boldness to do that in front of everyone.

"Alex," you said, giving him a warningly look. He just smirked, more than likely planning how he was going to get you to beg for him by the end of the night.

He of course continued this behavior the rest of the awards show, making sure to tease you, placing kisses to your neck when no one was looking, whispering dirty profanities in your ear, rubbing up your thigh, eventually going under your dress to play with them hemline of your underwear .... again.

The event had ended and you and Alex were now at the after party, even though you hated parties. You were talking to Kelly and Nick, the only thing that would keep you sane at the moment, and you were congratulating Nick on the awards that they had won tonight. "Congratulations, Nick. You all deserve the award so, so much," you said.

"Oh, it's really nothing, but thank you anyways," he said, waving it off. Him and Kelly walked over to Jamie and Katie to talk to them, leaving you alone. You decided to go and find Alex, haven't had seen him in the past thirty minutes, wondering where he was.

You looked around for at least ten minutes, asking anyone you knew where he was, most of them not knowing themselves. You finally found him talking with Miles, who would have thought. The two most amazing friends hanging out together, you should have known.

Alex's back was facing you, so Miles noticed you first. "Oh, hey, love," he said, making Alex turn around. "Hey, Mi. Do you mind if I steal Alex away from you for just a minute?" you said, holding Alex's arm. He shook his head no and got up, leaving you and Alex alone.

"Alex, can we leave?" you asked. He smirked, taking your request the wrong way, thinking that you wanted him now. "You finally came to your senses, I see," he smirked, grabbing you by the waist, kissing your neck while no one was looking. You pushed him away for what felt like the millionth time tonight.

"No, Alex, not like that. I mean that I'm tired and want to go home," you explained. But he of course wouldn't take that as an answer, thought that you were just begging him for him to take you. He kept saying that you weren't tired and just decided that you wanted him, saying that you both could go to the bathroom instead of going home and leaving.

You kept trying to convince him, kept trying to prove that you were tired and you even brought up the fact that you hated parties to try and convince him.

Finally, you convinced him, and he was ready to take you home. "Fine, just let me have a smoke and we'll leave," he said, couldn't believe that you didn't want him. You nodded and stayed seated while he went outside to smoke.

You waited patiently - twenty-two minutes went by and still no Alex. You decided to go and look for him, then head out to the car. You quickly said goodbye to everyone and walked outside, immediately seeing Alex. He was done with his smoke, seemingly waiting for you. "You ready to leave, darling?" he asked, smirking, still not believing that you wanted to go home because you were tired.

"Yes, I am, Al," you said, taking his hand, Alex leading you to the car, opening the door for you, walking around to the other side to get in, starting the car. And finally, after three long hours of his teasing, it was time to leave and go home, and just like before, Alex of course had to tease you to his fullest extent. "Can't believe that you didn't want me earlier," he said, his voice suggestive.

"I always want you, Al, but I'm tired. I'm ready for bed," you said. You were very tired, the amount of interviews Alex was in tonight, the waiting, killed you, the amount of times you had to push Alex's hand away and tell him no, and then the after party that you had practically begged for Alex to take you home. And Alex being, well, Alex, took your begs as requests for him to take you home and fuck you, and you had to convince him that it was because you were tired, which took a lot of convincing that wore you out.

You were glad when you and Alex finally got home, you were ready to go to bed, but Alex had other plans, immediately slamming you against the wall, kissing you deeply. If you were tired before, you surely weren't now, the heat of the kiss waking you up fully from your sleepy state.

He grabbed the underside of your thighs, signaling for you to jump and you did. Alex carried you down the hallway all the way into the bedroom, almost throwing you on the bed. He began to rid you of your clothes, leaving you in just your bra and underwear, kissing you everywhere he could. You tried to unbutton his shirt, but he quickly pushed your hands away, not allowing you to touch him.

Alex leaned down and captured you lips in a hard, passionate kiss, you hands going around his neck, scratching at the fuzz on the back of his neck. He bit you bottom lip, slipping his tongue past your lips, exploring you mouth. You could taste the wine and beer he'd had at the event, as well as the last cigarette he smoked right before you left the after party.

You felt him hard against your leg, his cock straining in his tight trousers. He pulled away from the steamy kiss unexpectedly, starting to crawl down your body, kissing down your neck, collarbone, breasts, stomach, stopping at your abdomen, just above where you needed him, the ache between your legs more prominent than it had been all night long.

He looked up at you, your eyes locking with his. "Alex, please," you begged, desperate for him now.

"Look who's begging for me to fuck you now," he smirked, the cocky tone in his voice obvious. You begged him some more with your eyes, eventually getting exactly what you wanted. He pulled down your underwear with his teeth, and you kicked them off into the floor. Alex nudged your thighs apart with one of his hands and started to kiss up your thighs, stopping when he reached your core, blowing on it, sending shivers up your body.

He waited a moment, and you were about to beg him again, but he quickly dipped his head down, placing wet, sloppy kisses to your heat, using his hands to hold your thighs as far apart they could go. And then his tongue lapped at your folds, spreading around your arousal.

He moved down to your dripping wet cunt, sticking his tongue inside of you, knowing how crazy it would drive you. You gripped the sheets, balling them up in your fists, needing to have something to hold on to, his hair not nearly long enough for you to do that.

Alex lifted his head up from your heat, wiping his face that was slick with your arousal. "Knew you wanted me. You're so wet, baby," he drawled, looking at the mess he had made of you in barely seven minutes.

He dipped his head back down to your heat again, his hands gripping your thighs tightly, holding them far apart. His tongue kept poking inside of you, and you writhed underneath him, the feeling too good, he was too good.

He moved his mouth back over to your clit, sucking it into his mouth, quickly replacing his tongue with two of his fingers, starting to pump them in and out of you slowly, setting a pace to your dismay. Though the pace wasn't nearly what you wanted, it drove you wild. He'd done this so many times, drove you wild so many times, that he knew exactly how to drive you mad, knew exactly how to make you feel so good.

You started to absent mindly grind your hips on his face, desperate to try and get his fingers to go faster in and out of you and to sink deeper inside of you. Alex chuckled against your skin, vibrations shooting up your body, and he took one of his hands and placed it on your hip to hold you down.

He quickly started to move his fingers faster, your orgasm getting closer and closer. "Alex, I-I'm so close," you said, voice trailing off into a moan as he had pressed down on your clit. He pressed down on your clit harder and with that, you shook, your orgasm washing over you.

You gripped the sheets tighter and wrapped your legs around Alex's head, his hand still on your hips. He kept moving his fingers, and you rode out your high. Alex sat up, removing his fingers from you and you whimpered at the loss of contact. He sat up, wiping his face that was, once again, slick with your arousal. You looked up at him, meeting eyes with him, seeing only lust in them. "How many do you think you can do?" Alex asked, removing his shirt, standing up to remove the rest of his clothes, leaving his bandanna neck scarf, which you didn't think much of at the moment, and you wasted no time before sitting up to help him out of his pants, stroking his cock when you removed his boxers.

He was painfully hard, precum forming on his tip that was a slight reddish purple color. He pushed you back down on the bed, sitting over your hips, straddling you. "I think that I can do th-three - oh," you said, moaning when he pushed your legs apart and pushed himself inside you, his head dropping down on your shoulder, biting down on it, sure to leave a mark.

He gave you very little time to fully adjust, starting to move once he regained some of his composure. He pulled almost all the way out of you before slamming back into you, gripping your hip with one hand, the other one holding himself above you.

Your hands ghosted over his toned chest, stopping at his broad shoulders, gripping onto them tightly, your nails digging into his skin. Alex started moving faster - much, much faster. Your eyes closed automatically, the way his cock stroked your walls felt too good, driving you mad. One of your hands moved up to the back of his head, scratching at the fuzz on his freshly buzzed head.

Your moans got louder as he fucked you harder, faster, and more mercilessly, taking good care of you like he always did. Alex's hand that was on your hip moved to rub vigorously on your clit, thrusting in and out of you faster and faster. Alex delivered a very hard thrust, hitting the spongey spot that made you see stars, flicking your clit, sending you over the edge.

Your eyes rolled back into your head, your grip on his shoulders tightening, so much so that you were sure that you would leave a mark. You rode out your high, Alex's movements not even slowing, but going faster.

Moans fell from your mouth, getting louder and louder. You'd just come down from your second orgasm, you were tired and sore and wore out, and you didn't know how much more you could take. Alex's head dropped down on your shoulder, placing kisses to it, eventually settling on a spot and sucking harshly on it.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, your feet locking at the back, and you started to grind onto him to meet his movements, the pleasure becoming too much for you to handle. A knot started to build up in the pit of your stomach, your third orgasm approaching you faster than the previous two had.

"God, love, you feel so fucking good," Alex grunted, punctuating each word with a hard thrust, flicking your clit along with each thrust. And with that, you shook, your third orgasm washing over you, riding out the intense waves of pleasure. You felt pure euphoria and bliss. You held onto Alex tightly, your legs tightening as your cunt contracted around him, drawing him in, holding him close.

You came down from your orgasm, opening your tightly shut eye, Alex's movements stopping. You untangled your legs and unwrapped your arms from around him, and he pulled out of you, sitting up on his knees, gripping the base of his cock tightly. He was clearly struggling to hold on himself, the sight of you coming undone just enough for him, and the sight could've solely made him come undone.

"Turn around, doll. On all fours," he drawled, motioning for you to turn around. You looked at him, didn't know how much more you could take, thought that you both agreed on three. "A-Alex, I don't know how much more-" you tried to say, but he cut you off.

"You can take it, and you will take it," he said. You hesitantly sat up, turning around. You looked over your shoulder at Alex. He was lining himself up with your entrance; you felt his tip poking inside of you, making you whimper out. "A-Alex."

He smirked and pushed inside you, bottoming out in one swift thrust. His hand soothed down your back, finding its way to your shoulder and he gripped it tightly, starting to thrust almost immediately. You closed your eyes tightly, the feeling already starting to become too good.

You moaned loudly when Alex began to thrust into you hardly, moving his hand from your shoulder to your hair, gripping it. His pace increased gradually, each thrust getting faster and harder. "Yes, fuck, baby, you're so wet for me," Alex groaned, somehow increasing his pace.

"A-Alex ... fuck ... faster," you whimpered, feeling a knot form in the pit of your stomach, your orgasm approaching very, very quickly.

"Givin' orders now, are we?" Alex spat, slowing his pace before slamming back into you hardly.

"I-I'm sorry," you whimpered. Alex moved his hand that was on your hip to your clit, rubbing harshly on it, and his hand that was in your hair moved down to cup your throat, pulling you flat against his chest. Sweat pooled on Alex's chest and forehead. His hand that was on your neck moved around your body to grab your breast, fondling it.

You needed something to hold on to, so your grabbed his arm that was across your front, holding on tightly, your other hand moving to the back of his head, scratching at the fuzz on his nape.

Alex's thrusts got faster and harder, and he rubbed more vigorously on your clit. You were so close, could practically taste your orgasm approaching. Alex thrusted up into you and that was almost enough for you, just one more and you were gone. But before you could, Alex stopped his movements and pulled out of you.

You were confused, had thought that he needed his release just as much as you, so you slowly turned around to face him and you propped yourself up on your elbows. "Alex, w-why'd you stop?" you questioned. He was looking you up and down.

"You was getting way too grabby for me liking," he drawled, crawling back over you. He removed his bandanna from around his neck, grabbing your wrists, bringing them up to the headrest, tying your hands to it with his bandanna. "There, that's better, innit?" he said, sitting up and straddling your hips once again, looking at the sight of you in front of him.

He started to kiss down your body, biting and leaving marks wherever he could. Once he reached your abdomen, he moved down to your heat, placing wet, sloppy kisses to your heat once again. His tongue lapped at your folds, spreading around your arousal. His hands gripped your thighs and you pulled on your restraints, desperate to hold onto something as leverage.

Alex moved down to your entrance, sticking his tongue inside of you, beginning to fuck you with it. One of his hands moved to your abdomen to keep your hips down after you started to grind on his face again, and he started to rub on your clit with his thumb on that hand. He was making you feel so, so good, but then again, when didn't he make you feel amazing?

Your moans got louder as he rubbed on your clit and moved his tongue faster, gripping your thigh tightly with his other hand. Soon he removed his hands from you altogether and moved his tongue back to your folds, pressing down on your clit with it, instead using his fingers to fuck you, moving them in and out of you at an alarmingly fast rate. He never let you get used to a feeling for very long, alternating between pressing down on your clit and moving his fingers quickly to lapping at your folds and slowing his fingers.

As you kept tugging on your restraint, the headrest started to bang against the wall, the noise echoing through the room, filling it along with your moans and whimpers. You instinctively wrapped your legs around Alex's head, drawing him in closer. He chuckled against your skin, send vibrations up your body, tipping you over the edge.

You tugged harshly on your wrists, the waves of pleasure washing over you. You moaned loudly, tightening your legs around Alex's head, crying out his name over and over. "F-fuck, Alex, fuck," you whimpered.

You came down from your high, and you were so sure, positive even, that Alex had had enough and would give you a break, but no, he kept going, moving his fingers and lapping at your folds like nothing had happened. Because to him, nothing did happen, so he just kept on.

He moved his fingers faster, curling and twisting them deep inside of you, making you cry out his name. The feeling of his fingers stroking your walls just right, the feeling of his mouth covering you heat over and over made you feel an indescribable feeling of pleasure. You were absolutely positive that there was a mark on your wrists from Alex's bandanna and were sure that Alex had many various handprints decorating your body which would no doubt last at least a week, maybe even more.

Alex had begun to suck your clit into his mouth, occasionally pressing down on the sensitive bundle of nerves. Alex looked up at you, and your eyes met and he saw just how amazing he was making you feel and he smirked against your skin, and you could feel him do it too. HIs grip on your abdomen had loosened up quite a bit and you started to grind onto his face again, trying get his fingers to sink deeper into you, to get some sort of friction since he ceased all movement of his fingers. Surprisingly, he didn't make you stop, he just let you move your hips freely. allowing you to make yourself feel good on his fingers. Though, in the back of your mind you knew that he wasn't stopping you for a reason, no doubt planning another way to make you come undone for him by his own means, his own rules, and by his own doing.

You were so close, nearly there, just needed to feel him curl his fingers inside of you, which he did while you were moving your hips, one more time. You were just about to let go whenever he stopped, pulling away from your heat, removing his fingers, making you whimper, and he sat up, leaving you barely on the edge, your orgasm so close, but so far away as it began to fade away.

"Wh-what? N-no, no, Alex," you said, your need to let go growing quickly by every passing second, the need to feel him inside you growing as well. "What, doll? What do you need?" Alex asked as he moved over you, his arms keeping him above you.

"I-I need you," you whimpered, Alex's promise of saying that he was going to 'fuck you up' coming true.

"'ow bad do you need me?" he drawled, slowly kissing up your neck, biting down on a spot. You whimpered. "I need you s-so bad, Alex." He chuckled, thinking of something for a moment, quickly giving telling what you needed to do. "You want me, then spit in me mouth," he said nonchalantly.

You were confused for a moment. You knew that he had a spitting kink, but he never showed any part of it in all the time that you two were together. You took a moment to think about it before you nodded and he opened his mouth and you spat in his mouth. You weren't proud of what you just did, but if it meant that Alex would fuck you, then you didn't care.

"Oh, and one more thing, baby ... you 'ave to promise me that you won't come until I say you can, okay?" Alex said. You nodded, how hard could that be?

He nodded in response before nudging your thighs apart with his hand and you sighed whenever he aligned himself up with your entrance, giving himself a few tugs before pushing inside you, bottoming out in two pushes. His head fell down on your shoulder, reveling in the feeling of your walls contracting around his cock, stretching to accommodate for his size.

Once he regained some sort of control, he pulled almost all the way out of you, slamming back inside you very quickly, starting to set a very, very fast pace. You pulled on your wrists again, hoping that maybe you'd loosened the knot that Alex had tied them in the bandanna with. You wanted your hands free of it, needed to touch him, to hold on to something, only if he would untie you.

His hands were firmly planted in the mattress beside your head, holding him up above you. You closed your eyes tightly, reveling in the way Alex's cock stroked your walls so good, but they quickly opened whenever Alex stopped moving. "Alex?" you asked, searching for his eyes.

"I want you to look at me the entire time, alright?" he said, and you quickly nodded, desperate for him to move again.

Alex started to move again, his eyes never once leaving your own. You tried your best to hold on, trying to fulfill his wish of you not to let go until he said so. But the feeling was getting to be too much for you, the knot forming in your stomach once again. The way he was stroking your oversensitive walls, thrusting into you hardly was enough for you, and you let go, eyes rolling into the back of your head, your walls contracting around Alex's cock, riding out your high.

Your moans filled the room and you came down from your high, opening your eyes. You were sure that Alex wouldn't give you anything else, wouldn't give you what you wanted having done the one thing he said not to do. You were panting heavily now, the feeling too overwhelming, too much for you to handle.

"Done?" he asked, raising his eyebrow at you.

"Yes," you managed to say, avoiding his eyes.

"Good," he said nonchalantly. Alex leaned down to kiss you, it wasn't a deep kiss, but instead it was a soft, slow, and passionate kiss, full of his love and adoration for you. He pulled away and pushed a piece of your hair out of your face, smiling down at you. "You think you can do one more, love?" he asked. You were tired and sore and worn out, having been pushed over the edge several times already and weren't fully sure if you could do one more, even though it was just one. But there was something about the way he asked you, the way he smiled, and you couldn't say no to him, especially with the way he was looking at you right now.

"Y-yeah, I can do one more," you choked out. Alex mumbled something incoherent before starting to move slowly. He knew how sensitive you were now and didn't want to do anything that might cause even the slightest bit of discomfort to you, but still making sure that you felt amazing.

The mood in the room had juristically changed. He was still dominant and had all the control, but he wasn't spitting out demands or teasing you anymore, just focused now on getting the two of you there, wanting you to feel good.

Though he didn't want to cause you discomfort, he did start to increase his pace, not by much, but going faster than before and one of his hands came down in between your bodies to rub light circles in sync with his thrusts on your clit, applying more pressure ever so slightly to it every now and then. He had just restarted his movements and you were already so close to the edge again. It took just one flick of your clit and Alex's cock nudging that spot inside you that had stayed unattended to before and that sent you spiraling.

Your walls contracted around his cock for the last time of the night, drawing him in, triggering his own release. You felt his cock twitch inside of you and you felt his hot release coat your walls as he groaned, the both riding out you highs. You felt pure euphoria and bliss once again as you came down, Alex coming down from his high as well, head falling on your shoulder. He laid on top of you for a few minutes, regaining some of his strength before pulling out of you with a sigh, laying down beside you. You were panting heavily, pulling on your wrists once again. "Alex," you sighed.

He looked at you, saying your name, looking you up and down, starring at your restraints. "Oh, I'll untie you," he said, reaching up and untying your wrists, throwing his scarf on the ground, pulling you close to him even though you were both hot, sweat pooling on Alex's forehead and chest.

"C'mere, me love," he said, holding you tightly. Even though you had come down from your orgasm, you were still panting heavily, trying to breath. "Hey, hey, breath, me love, breath. I've got you," Alex said calmly, rubbing your hair comfortingly.

You both sat there for a minute so that you could catch your breath. once you did catch your breath, you laid your head on Alex's chest. "I love you, Al," you said, looking up at him.

"I love you, too, me love," he said kissing you lovingly. "Are you alright? Did I 'urt you?"

You shook your head. "You could never hurt me, Alex," you said. "But, now I'm really tired and want to sleep, so can we talk in the morning?"

"Yeah, love, we can. Goodnight," Alex responded, pulling the duvet over you two. You told him goodnight and soon fell asleep in his arms, him following not long after you.

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buckystarlight · 3 years

Text

A Blessing, Beautiful And True

pairing: bucky x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: use of she/her pronouns; swearing if you squint; mentions of death; mentions of food

a/n: this is a rewrite of one of my old fics that i absolutely hated with my entire being. i hate this a little bit less djaksjsjs also pls ignore how i literally cannot write a good ending to save my life.

dedicated to @xsamsharons for lending me her name. i hope i did it justice mi amor ily <3

Bucky learnt to value things.

Not the great, terribly material things people around him seemed to rush after. Not money, not even when he was barely getting by.

No, for Bucky, it was the small, seemingly insignificant things.

The tiny toy WWII soldier figurine he found at a yard sale one Tuesday afternoon, the one with the missing arm. The near-exact model of the car his father used to drive—rusted around the tiny steel axel, the rubber wheels worn from use. That yellow screwdriver set that sat at the very back of the tool cabinet in the garage, unusable because of the cracked plastic handles and rusted steel, that looked exactly like the kit he had once used to fix up the plumbing in his first apartment.

Bucky was used to valuing the broken little things.

He never truly understood what loving something whole, something complete felt like—not until he met you.

You, in your white sweater and blue jeans, hair tossed up in a braid. You, your eyes that dancing with unbroken light, like the rays of the sun on the ocean on a bright summer’s day. You, with the sort of kindness he never truly thought he would ever be worthy of, not until you showed him that he was.

You, the girl he fell in love with before he could ever truly know what love was.

Steve might’ve been the first to notice. He was with him that day, the day he first saw you. They had been hunting for a Christmas present for Tony, and even though Bucky wasn’t exactly thrilled to have to attend, he wasn’t about to show up empty handed.

Steve didn’t even realize that the sly-footed assassin wasn’t by his side until he had walked the two blocks from the mall to his car. Hands ghosting over the gun tucked into the holster hooked into his waistband, Steve retraced his steps, his heart thundering in his throat.

Until he heard Bucky’s laugh.

Not the obviously fake chuckles he used to placate those around him. No, this was the laugh he remembered, the laugh he thought Bucky had lost.

This was Bucky’s laugh—his Bucky’s laugh, before the world stole him away. Pure and innocent.

Happy—so undeniably, inexplicably happy.

The tension eased from his shoulders when he saw you. Steve knew who you were, of course. Everyone did—or at least, everyone who had been around after the Battle of New York. Everyone who had seen you walk among the rubble, bleeding through your jeans, helping dig survivors out of the rubble, guiding them to shelters. Everyone who had seen you do everything you could help those who needed it more than you did, until your legs finally gave way and the only reason you didn’t collapse to the floor was because Steve caught you.

But Steve also happened to know why you’d done it. Because you were kind. Because you were selfless. Because you knew what it was like to lose everyone you loved, and to garner the strength to build yourself up anyway.

You’d lost people too—everyone you loved, killed during the Battle. Your family. Your friends. It might’ve seemed cruel to be spared. Might’ve seemed like a cold, dark twist of fate—and for a time, it did.

Steve had never known anyone to be resilient the way you were.

And maybe, just maybe, he thought to himself, as he watched his friend from through the glass, maybe you would teach him to hold on to the tiniest sliver of hope too.

—

Bucky didn’t even like books.

The only book he’d read—aside from the coursework assigned to him in his school days—was The Hobbit. And even that had taken him an ungodly amount of time to finish.

So yeah, Bucky didn’t exactly like books.

But he still visited the tiny bookstore on the corner every day.

He didn’t even buy anything. He just looked around, running his fingertips over the spines of the books that jutted out of the wooden shelves, the sunlight turning his eyes into uncharted waters of the oceans, swimming with undiscovered secrets and untold lies.

You would talk to him. All the time, and with no trace of the usual pity or sympathy that he heard when he spoke to people. You talked to him in a way that made him feel like himself, in a way that made him feel like he just might rediscover the man he used to be.

That first time he’d seen you was burned into the back of his brain, the image of you standing there with a hip braced against a bookshelf, dressed in a white sweater and jeans, your hair pulled into a braid over your shoulder. He had watched as a strand escaped, falling into your face.

And him—he'd stood there, watching you talk to another woman he couldn't recall because really, how could he look at anything else but you? Bucky was certain he looked like a gaping idiot, both wanting your attention to turn to him, and dreading the fact that he would surely make a fool of himself if you so much as looked at him.

Back in the 40s, things would've been so much easier. He would already have said something witty to make you laugh, he would already have been telling you about the carnival down at the beach and asking if you wanted to go with him.

But when your friend left, and you asked him if there was anything you could help him with, his voice sounded strange to his own ears as he croaked, "Books?"

You had laughed—and he found himself laughing along. A true laugh—for the first time in a long time, the sound didn’t sound fake to his own ears. For the first time in a long time, he felt like himself.

Bucky had taught himself to value that which wasn’t whole—because he wasn’t, either. Love was give and take. Love was equal.

If he was to deserve your love, he would have to be whole again. If he was to deserve your love, he would make himself whole again.

—

There was a sudden shift in the way Bucky viewed the world.

It had been three days since he last saw you, but he walked in through those doors anyway. He had no cause, no reason—he just couldn’t go any longer without seeing you.

You were sitting by the bay window at the very back, reading a book. He took a second just to take you in, to get used to the fact that you weren’t just a figment of his imagination.

The second you looked up, your face split into a grin, like you were truly, genuinely happy to see him. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had smiled at him that way. “Hey, you’re back! It’s Bucky, right?”

He nodded. He couldn't trust himself to speak, not when he was sure he would stumble over his words, not when he couldn't bring himself to string together a coherent sentence in your presence.

"What can I help you with today?" you asked, snapping your book shut and placing it on the table.

"Uh... What're you reading?"

You glanced down at your book before looking up to meet his eyes again. Blue, you thought, supressing a smile. Icy blue, but warm nonetheless—familiar in the way most things aren’t. "Wuthering Heights. You've never read it?"

He shook his head no. "Never been much of a reader, no. Is it any good?"

"It's one of my favourites," was your answer, watching as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The light caught the steel of the chain around his neck—the chain of one of those military-issue dog tags.

And maybe that was how it started—on that dreary cold Wednesday, when you'd stood next to the bookshelf by the window, telling him about your favourite book, but really all he could focus on was the late afternoon sun rendering the hue of your eyes several shades lighter, the soft slope of your nose, the fullness of your mouth. Every little detail about you was etched permanently into his mind—and he wanted to learn more.

He wanted to know everything there was to know about you.

It was about closing time when he decided he had to go. Not because he wanted to, but because he had promised he would have dinner with Sam and Steve. And as much as Bucky wanted to stay, he was a man of his word.

Which is why when he promised you he would come see you as soon as he finished reading the book, you knew he meant it.

—

And you were right.

Two days later, he was back.

It was raining that day, early in the morning when you were just about to open up. And there, standing under the awning in the freezing rain, was Bucky, the collar of his coat turned up against the wind, drenched to the bone.

"What're you doing here?" you asked, eyes wide.

"I just... I don't know," he said. Because he didn't. Bucky didn't even like books—but he did like being around you. There was a strange sort of calm about you, a sense of peace he'd only known in Wakanda. Around you, he was just Bucky—not Sargent Barnes, not the Winter Soldier—just Bucky.

He liked being just Bucky.

You shook your head, but he could've sworn he saw the corner of your mouth tilt upwards as you fished your keys out of your pocket and unlocked the door. "Well, come on inside. I'll turn up the heat and get you something warm to drink. Christ, Buck, you could get pneumonia or something.”

He only nodded once. It didn't matter that he wouldn't get sick—not when the serum in his veins healed his body faster than normal. It didn’t matter that even if he could sick, he wouldn’t have cared, not when you were looking at him like that, with concern in your eyes for something other than your own safety.

You had a coffee machine in the back room, you told him. He followed you, lingering in the doorway as you bustled about, humming a tune under your breath. He recognized it as a song from that one Marvin Gaye album Sam couldn’t stop talking about. He recognized it as a song he wanted to listen to for the rest of his life, if only you were the one singing it.

He recognized that, for better or for worse, you would be his undoing.

—

After that, he came to see you every day.

When the weather got colder still, he brought you steaming cups of hot chocolate from your friend Bella’s café down the street. And on the days when he didn’t, he would head into the back room and make you coffee. You’d never had to tell him how you took it—after that in the rain, he’d somehow remembered what you liked.

You weren’t about to tell him, but you remembered what he liked too.

It started out simple—plum cider that you found on your weekly trip to the farmer’s market. An old vintage copy of The Hobbit from the forties. Rubber silencers for his dog tags that he never used but carried around in his pocket anyway—until eventually, you had something new for him every week, some insignificant thing that he looked at with the kind of childlike awe that made your heart twist into knots in your chest.

He walked you home too. Every evening, with his hands stuffed in his pockets, slowing his stride so that he could walk alongside you. He would stand outside, across the street, hands in his pockets, waiting for you to walk into the apartment you shared with Bella. Only leaving when the lights came on and he knew you were safe.

Bucky wasn’t much of a talker—you learnt that about him. He would spend all day sitting quietly in a corner of your store, reading one of the books he found on the shelf of used copies you kept in the back of the room.

He seemed to love those used books more than the new ones—books someone had already read, books that had already been loved.

He felt a little that way sometimes, too. A little too used for love, not loved enough for use.

But never when he was with you.

And you—you were falling for Bucky Barnes. A little by little, day by day, without even realizing it—not until it all came rushing to you one afternoon, like a dam breaking, like the ocean of his eyes pulling you under, especially when you felt his gaze on you from time to time, watching you as you worked.

That afternoon, a new shipment of books came in. You didn’t even have to ask him for help—he was already on his feet, snapping his copy of Anna Karenina shut, mumbling a soft, “I’ve got it,” as you signed for the order. Hefted the two cartons of books like they weighed nothing at all, and carried them inside.

There was a strange tightness in your stomach as you watched him, standing in the middle of your store—the only thing the Battle of New York hadn’t taken away from you—and you wondered just how it took so damn long to realize that the feeling of familiarity didn’t lie among these books, but rather, in Bucky himself.

—

It was a slow day, so the two of you spent the rest of the afternoon restocking the shelves. He asked you about each of the books, watching your eyes light up as you talked about your favourite ones, until conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence, the two of you basking in each other’s company as you worked.

You didn't even realize how much time had passed until you heard the door open and your friend Bella breezed in. She'd been here the first day Bucky had walked in, had noticed the way your eyes shifted to him mid-conversation like you couldn’t focus on much else when he was around. “Ready for lunch, y/n?”

You looked at Bucky, opening your mouth to ask if he wanted to come along. Not because you didn’t trust him to be alone at the store, but because you wanted his company. Because being around him felt like coming home.

He only waved you off. "Go ahead. I've got plans with Stevie. I'll be here when you're back though."

You believed him. You believed that he would always be around, for as long as you wanted. And you wanted forever.

"Was that the guy from before?" Bella asked, looping an arm through yours as you left the store, walking down the street. She brushed her fiery hair out of her eyes, turning her head slightly to look at you, yellow-green eyes filled with curiosity. “What’s his name?”

"Bucky. He... He's a friend," you said.

"Well," Bella said. "He sure doesn't feel the same way."

"What do you mean?" you asked, confused.

"Y/n, he looks at you like you put the stars in his sky. Are you sure he's just a friend?"

"I... I don't know, Bella."

Because you didn't know what else to call him. Because you and him weren't friends in the way people usually are—you had always been more.

Bucky was always more.

—

"I've barely seen you," Steve said, picking up his can of Diet Pepsi and taking a sip. "Where have you been?"

"Around," Bucky mumbled. Because how could he explain why he was spending so much time at the bookstore with someone he'd only just met? How could he explain the magnetic pull he felt toward you, the inexplicable desire to just be around you?

How could he explain the way you made him feel like himself again?

But Steve knew. Steve always knew. He saw the growing stack of novels on his friend's bedside table, saw him reading at the kitchen table, book propped up against the jug of milk.

He also knew that all this was because of y/n. Because Bucky mumbled that name when he was too exhausted to even know what he was saying. Because Bucky talked in his sleep—and Steve could hear him calling that name through the thin walls that separated their rooms. "You've been at the bookstore?"

Bucky set his drink down. There was so use denying it—his friend would see right through him. Steve had known him for too damn long to believe in his lies. "She's so... I can't even put it into words. She makes me believe that there's good in this world. That all the things I did wrong don't even matter—not when I'm with her. It’s the way she looks at things, the way she’s capable of finding a little bit of good in everything. Like she found something good in me, Steve."

Steve knew it was true. Because he hadn’t seen Bucky this way for a very long time. Because he hadn’t seen that light in his friend’s eyes in a very long time, and ever since he met you, it hadn’t gone away.

—

Bucky had to leave for a couple of days.

He didn't tell you why—just that it was a work thing. How long would he be gone? He didn't know.

"I'll be back soon," he said. "I promise."

And he was. Five days later.

But Bucky was quiet—quieter than usual.

It was a Sunday, and you’d somehow managed to drag him along to the farmer’s market with you. He walked alongside you, hands in his pockets, like he was aching to reach out and touch you but desperately holding himself back.

He’d almost gotten himself killed on that mission.

You took up too many thoughts in his head, too much space in his heart. And when the bullet narrowly missed him, grazing his ribs, his only thought was whether or not you’d miss him if he was gone.

You deserved better than someone who’s life was tied to the death of others. Someone who didn’t have so much blood on his hands.

A few paces ahead of you, Bella walked hand-in-hand with Bucky’s friend Sam. You were glad that Bucky had introduced them, glad that Sam made Bella happy in ways you’d never really known or understood before.

“Look at them,” you said, watching with a smile on your face as Sam quietly slipped a couple of oranges into Bella’s bag. “They look real happy.”

Then, turning to look at him, you smiled, and he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. Because you might deserve better, but he was selfish and stubborn, and the only thing he had wanted in so goddamn long was you you you.

“Go out with me,” he blurted, every thread of self-control he had so carefully cultivated to keep his head in your presence snapping. He felt like he was taken back to that December evening he saw you for the first time, when the words refused to leave his mouth, when you’d rendered him tongue-tied and helpless. Only this time, he couldn’t stop the words from coming out, not as he said, “One date, y/n. One date, and if you don’t have a good time, we can just forget it ever happened and move on.”

His heart shuttered when he saw the small frown creasing your brow, your voice soft as you asked, “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything. I want to do this for the rest of my life with you, y/n,” he said quietly. “But for now, I’ll take that date.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding slowly. “Okay, Bucky, I’ll go out with you.”

He couldn’t help it. Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist, drawing you to him, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around until you were both laughing, childlike and breathless, blissfully unconscious of the knowing look on Sam and Bella’s faces.

Because really, how could he see anything but you? You had been it from the first day he saw, and you were it now—a blessing, beautiful and true.

tags:

@goldengoddess @wherearethesantreys @ughlantsov @for-bebbanburg @mriddlemethis @xleiaorgana @xsamsharons

if you would like to be added to or removed from my taglist, just send me a message or an ask off anon!

#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes #marvel mcu

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filthforfriends · 3 years

Note

who: Ethan

what: fluff

when: day time

where: Tiny hole in the wall record store

why: The band is stuck in New York for a couple days because of flights being a bitch. So they go exploring and find a sign that takes them down an alley to the store. The lady at the counter is there and Ethan finds a Muse.

"It smells like old people."

"I think that's a good thing, means it's authentic."

"Guys, don't be rude," Ethan scolds. All four of them traipsing through Hell's Kitchen was a sight, but what better way to kill time. An epic storm in the middle of the Atlantic had delayed their flights. Victoria dragged Thomas over to the Joni Mitchell records. Damiano was flipping through the many glam rock live albums, some of which were actually made in the 80s. Ethan perused the isles, people watching just as much as record shopping.

Various characters moseyed around the store. An old man with a rat-sized dog that also resembled a rat and a couple of people in giant coats the reeked of mildew There was a group of high schoolers who were obviously trying on the hipster identity, chattering excitedly. Of course there was some vintage record fanatic with his glasses down to the tip of his nose, squinting and gaffing at rough edges.

Ethan wasn't planning on buying anything and lugging it to the other side of the world until he saw the Deep Purple records. He flipped through the discography at record speed, in search of their Made in Japan live album.

"Ian Paice rules," said a voice next to him.

"Yeah he's one of my idols." Ethan didn't look up when he spoke, too focused on his quest.

"So you're a drummer then?"

"I am actually," he responded, pleasantly surprised. Most people saw the hair and didn't figure anyone behind a kit would bother with it. When he looked up he was met with garish clash of color and pattern. A textured skirt over psychedelic, 70s trousers. Some sort of short sleeve chiffon blouse over a bright orange long sleeve with a Stevie Nicks' shawl on top. When Ethan's eyes finished the epic journey to this person's face, he found it surprisingly bare of makeup, adorned with only eyeliner and freckles.

"I'm Ona, and you should listen to this." Ironically, an album with the word Rainbow on the cover was thrust into his hands. "It doesn't have Paice, but it's part of that whole convoluted, family that started with Deep Purple." Ethan was struggling to keep his grin close-lipped. It was rare to meet people that nerded out over this particular niche of music. Most people only cared for the enigma of Ozzy Osbourne and raw power of Black Sabbath.

"Thank you," he exclaimed, trying to put enough emphasis on the words and failing. "Really! This is...this is really cool. Who is it? Or -sorry my English isn't very good"

"Its chill. My mom speaks basically no English, so I'm good with accents. It's Richie Blackmore's band. If you ever find an album that says Blackmore's Rainbow it's valuable. They didn't print those for long." Ona points out where the title would be different and their hand brushes Ethans. He's aware of exactly how close they're standing, can maybe even feel the heat from their body as they speak.

"I'm surprised he convinced anyone to be in a band with him. again."

"Right?" He adores the squawking laugh Ona lets out and the round apples of their cheeks as they smile. He can imagine making a drum groove in the style of their voice's cadence. The kick drum would be the beating heart and the high hat their giggle. Even the creak of their boots as the rock back on heel has a compelling rhythm.

"Can I record the way you talk?" Ona's eye brows raise in surprise.

"You're the one with the cute accent, babe."

"I -" Ethan feels himself blush, and looks back at the record. "You remind me of a song I want to write. I'm not sure how to say it." His hands gesticulate as he struggles, but no better words come. "Cazzo," he mutters. Ona reaches out a delicate hand to rest on Ethan's wrist, assuringly.

"Fuck the English language, thats the best compliment anyone has ever given me in this life."

the album:

the convoluted family tree:

send me a who/what/when/where/why blurb request!

#w5 filthforfriends #maneskin #ethan maneskin #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin imagine #måneskin #ethan torchio #ethan torchio fanfiction #ethan torchio imagine #ethan torchio blurb #maneskin blurb

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spidxysense · 3 years

Text

Back to You | 14

Summary: He broke your heart, but you’d always love him. Two souls that not even the universe could tear apart, even if you wanted it to at times.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader x Timothee Chalamet

A/N: Yay I updated! I hope you guys like this one, I was stuck for a bit there but once I sat down and got to typing, I really finished it in one sitting. I was just planning on updating it bit by bit lol. Let me know what you guys think, Love you!!!!!!

Word count: 2,591

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

In a few short months of your movie premier with Timothee, you were finally able to release your double-release album, and the response was massive, to say the least. You'd been getting calls from different show hosts' upcoming awarding ceremonies. Still, you couldn't for life in you accept, all except for the Oscars, which your manager told you was a must since you'd be attending in the first place anyway and that performing at the Oscars was a big deal given that you also starred in films and shows.

You turned in bed, facing Timothee's sleeping face. He had been in town for a week now, back on a break from filming in Hungary. Then he'd be back to film in England in a couple of weeks. After your talk on your premiere night, it was to an agreement that whatever you had going on was just two people exploring and experiencing things with someone they had strong feelings for. There wasn't a need for a media circus to cover anything about you two except your movie.

You move his arm, placed it over your waist, and sit up slowly in bed, making sure not to stir Timothee. The jetlag must be shit. You stretched your arms in front of you, glancing at the clock that read 2:07 AM. You get up, grabbing Timothee's white shirt from the floor, and, putting it on, walking over to the bathroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror, touching some of the reddening parts of your neck courtesy of Timothee, and then you notice the toothbrushes… there were two. From this single thing alone, it had you catching everything about the bathroom, how there were two towels, one black, and one violet, which just so happened to be your favorite color.

You walked over to the nightstand beside the bed, putting on your skinny jeans, turning on the lamp, and noticing his wallet. Inside was a picture of you. Opening the closet doors, the ones hung up were various suits, jackets, and even dresses you've worn to events. Why didn't he just send these back? Why would he let you keep your stuff in his house?

You drag your feet downstairs, noticing small details you'd been blind to before, like the large dog bed positioned by the door despite Timothee telling you he could only ever get himself to take care of a tiny dog. You noticed the colored mugs and bowls, a deep dull navy blue color, the same as the ones in your house. Suddenly, everything feels as if it's moving too fast. You both agreed there was no relationship, and there was attraction, but why does his home feel like it's become yours as well?

You sit down, taking a few deep breaths before deciding to stand up and grab your cardigan from the coathanger, opening the front door and closing it behind you as you waited for a taxi to bring you to the more active part of the city at night.

You just couldn't deal with a relationship right now. You couldn't let your heart get broken again, so you have to find ways to distract yourself.

The car stops in front of you, driving off into the night and dropping you off by a club that Troye agreed to meet you at.

You and Timothee had an attraction, but you both agreed there was no label; ergo, there was no intimate relationship even though you both have done everything together. No boyfriend means you were free to do whatever you wanted without worrying about him. But if you were honest with yourself, this was more of you suggesting something you already knew Timothee wasn't too keen on agreeing with but would just because he thought that having something with you was better than absolutely nothing. You saw Troye waiting out by the back entrance for you when he spotted you and called you over. Almost like clockwork, every time you snuck out away from Timothee, everything in you screamed to turn back, to clear your head, and for the first time, you listened.

You motioned for Troye to go ahead and sent him a text that you'd probably just head home because you weren't feeling well. He gave you a knowing look before looking like he finally approved of your actions and sent you a quick and short 'Good." text, and headed inside.

You walked around for a while after that. Soon it was already just about 5 in the morning, and even though you wouldn't let yourself come to any conclusion as to what you even wanted out of this almost relationship with Timothee, you still found yourself back at his front door.

You took out the keys in your pocket, slowly opening the door only to find Timothee sat on the couch, his knees up to his chest as he stared off into space, either deep in thought or trying to keep himself awake… maybe even both.

When he saw you enter, a soft smile formed on his face, and for some reason, that made you smile too.

"Hey, you." He spoke softly.

You sat down quietly next to him, instantly he set his feet on the ground and reached over to embrace you in a hug, the familiar scent of Timothee that never left you that evening even more evident… It felt and smelled familiar, and right now, while your mind was a mess, familiarity was what you needed.

Timothee lifted his head, worried, "Hey, are you alright?"

You sighed, "I don't want to hurt you."

He murmured quietly into your neck as he peppered kisses, "You could never."

You pulled away, feeling guilt in your bones, "Aren't you even a little bit frustrated that we've been like this for months? That even in private, we can't even say that we're in a relationship?"

You gave you a reassuring look, "We both wanted this Y/N."

You sat up, "Except we didn't… You didn't." You corrected yourself, "You're bringing your mother to the fucking Oscars next month because I told you we couldn't be seen together at carpets for Pete's sake."

You stood up, starting to pace back and forth, "We have to coordinate outfits for the sake of not matching, and we never go out because I can't be seen with you in fear that we're going to get found out. I'm a terrible fucking person, and I don't understand how you're so okay with this."

Timothee was grinning, sleep still in his eyes, "I'm okay with it because I love you, Y/N."

You froze in your spot, "You what?"

He nodded and got up, walking over to you. The blue light of the early morning peaking through the curtain made this moment feel and look ethereal, "I said I love you, Y/N. I've known that I loved you from the moment I met you." He kissed the top of your head as he embraced you.

You shook your head, "No, no, no, you don't. I'll even list more shit I've done to you just so you understand how and why you don't love me."

Timothee chuckled, "And yet despite all this... all that's registering in my head is the fact that you've been thinking of me and only me this whole time. You've been worried about how you're hurting me because you don't want to."

And that's when you realized that Timothee was right. This whole time you've been thinking of Timothee and how much you wanted to protect him from you, but he never wanted to be protected from you because he knew that you could never hurt him. You rested your forehead against his.

"I-I need to go. I need to think."

He smiled sadly, "I'll be here when you're ready. I'll always be here Y/N until you don't want me to be here anymore."

-----------------------------------------------------------

You sat in your house, since leaving Timothee's earlier, you had been sat there lost in thought as you argued with yourself. It was true, the last thing you wanted was to hurt Timothee, but you were confused because it's like you couldn't understand your feelings. After all, a particular person still held a large part of it in his hands.

Timothee was there for you. Late night at the recording studio, whether through being there physically or even calling you or skyping you, he was always there. He was there with you when you bought all your albums from Target, and he was also the one who insisted you find another target that hasn't sold out your CDs so he could buy all of them too. Timothee was there with you when you had interviews that you almost felt like you could puke from nervousness backstage as he watched you talk about another celebrity you were getting linked to, and he was there with you to giggle about how stupid talk shows were. Timothee was always there. Whether it was dancing, kissing, or even fighting in the rain, he was always with you. He always wanted you around. Even when you rode the subway to get to a press conference of his or a promo for his upcoming movie, he always wanted you with him. He'd run with you in the rain, and he'd kiss away the sadness when you didn't want to speak with him. He was there with you when you get the sudden urge to buy all the popsicles from the nearest whole foods, and he was there with you when you got sick with the flu, which he also got from you. You'd spend afternoons walking around a far-off hill as you two put flowers in your hair despite knowing that you two probably had your busy schedules. Nothing mattered when you were with Timothee. Nothing mattered except each other. A part of you felt hurt that these memories you had kept of you and Tom were slowly being replaced by everything Timothee, but a large part of you also knew that the person you have now had no doubt that you couldn't ignore your feelings. You couldn't have to take Timothee out of your life.

Making up your mind, you got up, got dressed, and left for where you were sure you would find Tom.

He was in the middle of filming a new movie, but the second he saw you, he immediately asked to stop filming, a familiar, loving face plastered on as he walked over to you before being stopped by the director. They looked to be having a bit of a disagreement before he pointed you out, and the director looked at you in realization, patting him on the back and allowing him to jog over to you.

"Hey." You paused, your hand grasping your arm, and Tom took notice right away.

His eyebrows furrowed, "Hey, what's wrong?" He pulls you to sit by the curb as you two sat side by side, "You only do that when you're having a hard time saying something."

You gave him a look, "Well… I came here to ask you if it was alright if I try things out with Timothee."

He looked taken aback, "Oh, well, honestly, I thought you came by to sort things out between us…." He took notice of the way you looked down in guilt, "I don't think you could do anything with another guy that wouldn't upset me… but I don't really get that prerogative anymore, Y/N." He sighed, wrapping an arm around you to comfort you, "The fact is, you're trying to grow into who you've always wanted to be, and I'm trying to do that too for the sake of us and what we could be. If that means that you need or want to date someone again, I'll fully support you, but the most important thing is, does he make you happy?"

You sighed, looking out onto the filming lot, and nodded slowly, not noticing the slight upset look on Tom's face, "I catch myself sometimes smiling to myself when I think of him… But it's like I can't do anything because I don't want to let go of what we had."

Tom took a gulp, deciding that what was important right now was you, more than what he wanted, "What we had and what we were isn't important anymore Y/N. I'm working towards what we could become. What we had was co-dependency and a constant need to be in each other's presence to prove that what we had was perfect. I want us to find each other again in the future and know that no matter how far apart we are, if hopefully, we get together again, there is nobody in this world we'll love more… and that's what I'm encouraging you to do. I want to grow with you and grow for each other, and if that means you dating other people to understand yourself more, then I support you."

You looked at Tom for a second before hugging him and pecking him on the cheek, "I really needed that, Tom. Thank you."

He hugged you tighter, "Anytime. I'll always be here for you, Y/N."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

You gripped your seat in the car in pure nerves. You were on your way to the Oscars with your assistant constantly telling you about your performance and what not to mess up and things to remember, especially about reporters who wanted an interview with you. To say you were all nerves today was an understatement. You hadn't spoken to Timothee ever since you told him you needed time to think, so today would be the first time you would ever come face to face with him. You thought long and hard about everything between the two of you. Still, you think you're finally ready to actually put some time and effort into this… and if that meant doing things that would significantly make Timothee happy, then you'd do it.

Your assistant watched a live feed from the Oscars as she gave you updates on how Armie was on the carpet. Saoirse was on the carpet, talking about how she hoped to make a movie with you and various other stars. You were a few minutes away from the carpet when she spoke up again.

"Timothee has just arrived." then she looked at her phone and back at you, doing a double-take as you gave her a sheepish smile, all she could do was smile approvingly at you before going back to giving you live updates.

A few minutes later, and your heart didn't feel like it was going to slow down anytime soon as your assistant gave you a pep talk, "Y/N. You are gonna rock that carpet, you'll turn heads, and most importantly, you're gonna be the talk of the night. There is nothing that could go wrong tonight. Just take deep breaths and don't trip."

Luckily you were still coherent enough to understand what she said as you took deep breaths to calm your nerves.

"Alright, three… two… one." The door flew open as one of the large men in suits grabbed your hand and helped you out. Your dress was not providing you much flexibility to move, and for almost 15 seconds, it felt like everything was moving in slow motion as everyone was quiet. You found Timothee busy with an interview as the crowd looked from you to him, the topic on everyone's minds for the past few months. As if this were the only proof they needed, they held their cameras in their hands as they snapped pictures of you and a commotion started as they started asking for Timothee.

You think you gave them a quick, charming grin as you told them he was in an interview before walking towards the interviewer and Timothee. She was the first to notice while Timothee talked about how his mom stood him up as his Oscars date, something you arranged a week earlier and something Timothee's mom was more than happy to comply to.

The interviewer looks ecstatic as the only one and the first one on this carpet to get whatever the scoop was here, as she wasted no time when you slowly approached them, "Timothee! You said you were stood up, but you never told us that your backup would be late!"

Timothee shot her a confused look before he felt your arm slowly snake around his arm, "Sorry I'm late." You quickly whispered to him.

His face looked shocked. Almost as if a reflex, he almost pulled away from you before getting a good look at what you were wearing. His jaw looked like it would drop to the floor as he looked utterly awestruck.

The interviewer giggled nervously, already knowing her interview time was slowly coming to an end without any payoff to the two of you, "Timothee, you look to be speechless at Y/N's dress tonight." She looked at you hopefully, "Could everyone here assume this is date night?"

You smiled shyly at the lady before giving her a tiny curt nod, "I know it's a bit cliche to match outfits, but when I saw that Timothee was going to wear a harness, I just couldn't let him take all the attention for tonight, so I apologize, but I've kept this secret from him too just to make sure he doesn't do anything to take the spotlight, that's why he looks like he's just had a heart attack." you giggled.

He gave a quick, playful tilted look to you before blinking multiple times, "In my defense, I didn't even know that this was a harness... They told me this was a bib."

"Bib or not, you two look like the sexiest couple on the carpet, and I just so happen to be the luckiest interviewer tonight." The interviewer looked ecstatic as can be as she jumps up, more energetic to interview the two of you, "And well, Y/N, one look at you, and it's hard to believe anyone would still have the ability to speak. You look gorgeous." She winked at the camera, "But I can't help but notice you just confirmed this is date night… Is it safe to assume what everyone has been wondering for the past few months? That you two are dating?"

Somehow, Timothee finally snaps out of it and looks at you, a questioning look before you leaned over and spoke into the mic, "Yeah. We're together. We have been for a while now." You smiled sheepishly as you saw Timothee's face glow as he wrapped his arm around your waist, "I apologize for keeping quiet for so long, but we think it's the right time to go public now that we've decided to take things to a more serious level."

The interviewer waves a hand in the air, "As long as you two let us in on the secret, there's no problem there." She faced the camera, "You heard it here first, folks. Hollywood's newest and hottest up and coming power couple. From both Y/N and Timothee themselves, now going public with their relationship."

As you two walked away from the interviewer for more pictures, Timothee embraced you, uncaring of the cameras flashing in your faces, "Are you serious?"

You nodded slowly, "I'm ready to be with you completely, Timothee. I'm sorry I took so long."

He shook his head like a puppy, "As long as you're here with me now, Y/N, I don't care."

He pulled away at the sound of your name and his in the same sentence as the photographers asked for your attention. He quickly kisses you on the cheek as you shut your eyes and grinned, cameras going off and commotion started up at you two, the young hot couple everyone had wanted more details on.

Timothee clutched your waist tightly, almost like he was afraid that if he let go, this would all go back to how everything was before.

Before entering the venue, he pulled you to the side, "Are you sure about this? I don't want you to force yourself."

You shook your head, guiding his head to yours, "I think I'm in love with you too, Timothee. I'm all in with you." And then you kissed him.

#Timothee Chalamet #timmy #selena gomez #tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom x reader #timothee chalamet fanfic #timothee x reader #bty #back to you #i finally updated #im so sorry i took so long #thank you for being so patient and always supporting my page #spidxysense

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justalost4girl · 3 years

Text

" If anything can go wrong, it will."

Good night!! (Here it's still night :p )

A few weeks ago I said I would do a oneshot Lorraine Broughton x F! Reader, but it got too big so I decided to follow the initial idea and turn it into a mini series. I have two chapters written and I'm going to post them here and in Ao3, I think there will be 3 or 4 chapters in total, but I'm not sure yet.

English is not my first language, so all mistakes are mine.

Enjoy!!

warnings: mention of violence, R cursing, forgery of documents (?)

Words: 4573

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1989

Berlin, East Side

You feel in your bones, when you wake up, the consequences of last night and think that the famous Murphy's Law decided to test you. On this side of the wall few things go right, but having an order in your head two days after joining STASI's wanted list proves that nothing is so bad it can't get any worse. Courtesy of a dumb customer who messed with the wrong people and thought revealing where you find your customers would be enough information to escape death. The Local Gang (or Angels, as they call themselves) loves to eliminate competition from the market.

Now he's dead and you have to deal with the STASI AND the Local Gang (you refuse to call them Angels).

The local fucking gang that sent a team of idiots to break into your favorite bar and made you run out the back door before meeting a customer who was going to pay well. The local fucking gang who must be pissed that you shot the six dumbest members you've ever had to face in your life. No really fatal shots, but of course that won't matter as they do business with the KGB.

Sometimes you want to ignore the rules you've made for yourself, especially "never kill someone unless it's in defense of yourself or someone you love", but you think killing six agents who don't have the ability to set up an ambush of success would be a great waste of bullets. Now you know you're going to have to leave town soon and you have no idea how to break the news to your brother/partner, how do you honorably abandon a war before it's over?

Damn Murphy's Law

You know you need to sort this out, but you refuse to stay in bed crying over what's already written and decide to leave the wonderful Egyptian linen sheets you got from your favorite client last month to face the world and it's impossible to face the world without a good amount of coffee. After a quick shower with a cup of Blue Mountain in hand, your newest addiction, you sit in a robe in a nice armchair, look out the window at dying Berlin and thank heaven for the comfortable life you've earned by working with one of the greatest smugglers on this side of the wall, perhaps from all over Germany. Some desperate customers offer you valuable items from them in exchange for passports and unlike your idiot “brother”, you don't have a rule about only receiving cash. Almost everything here comes from gifts, from the sofa, pictures, bags, clothes and even some books on your shelf. You don't even remember buying that cup, or the coffee set, for gods' sake.

If he saw you now he'd complain about being soft with customers and say something about how items aren't a bargaining chip in the real world, you'd get into a tiresome discussion about enjoying the finer things in life and how bills don't compare in the importance of yours. silver chain with moon pendant that was once an amulet for more than three generations for a French family.

At the end of the day, Merkel has a large information network and an office that takes up half the block, where she keeps as much money as she has secrets, and you have a house decorated by other people where each object symbolizes someone you've helped.

Four walls don't make a house

The thought takes away some of the almost peace you feel and you decide to finish your coffee before it gets cold.

After a quick glance at the calendar you remember about the march that will take place in Alexanderplatz square and decide to go scream for Germany one last time, hopefully you'll be able to hide long enough to see the fall of the damn wall that divides this country. It's not your country, not really, you don't even like to remember how you got here, but the experiences you gained wouldn't be exchanged for anything, not even for an original Van Gogh. Also, Merkel asked you to go and bring a black umbrella, the reason was not explained and you didn't feel like asking, sometimes you think Gordon Merkel is not his name, but how to judge the man who is your only family in this end of the world? You smile when you remember that he shouldn't have an umbrella with a story as cool as his and decide to piss him off for it.

Your phone rings, and you notice you've lost track of time. Merkel was helping a blonde woman named L, he didn't give you more details other than a few stories about how she was a perfect and dangerous assassin that you should keep your distance, as few people know how to deal with her. You thought he overreacted, but you had to take over some business from him while she was in town. She seemed important considering the way he told you about her and you knew better than to deny help to the person who always supported you and declared himself a brother, you trusted him because not even the best agent in the world could fake so much sincerity and affection in claiming this title for himself.

You reach out, pick up the phone, and decide to answer it. “Hey little sister, how are you out there? I called to say that everything is fine for dinner today, but there was a mishap and the wine ran out, bring the best Bordeaux you have, I'll return the courtesy as soon as possible." A code, of course.

He needs your services ASAP. Wine is a passport, Bordeaux means two elements, courtesy involves a child.

You can combine business with pleasure "Hi brother. I'm looking forward to today, I'll take the best wine I have, don't worry. I already know how you can thank me. I need to clean the house and go to the office first, but I'll be there on time. wait for me." you say in a voice that oozes normalcy, you never know when someone's listening on the phone especially now that you're a fugitive, disgraced customer. Your body sinks into the armchair noticing the oncoming cloud of worry

Merkel now knows you need his help, as cleaning the house means getting away and going to the office shows you're in a hurry.

"Alright, do you want me to send the driver?" He asks like he's not freaking out and offering the bloody job of one of his mercenaries

“No, bro, thanks, I know the way.” You say as if you really have an escape plan besides getting a fake passport, emergency backpack and all the money you can find.

“See you later, don't forget the wine. Are you sure you don't want the driver?" You wonder if he has forgotten that knowing the way literally means everything is fine

“Relax, see you later” It takes a few seconds for him to hang up and you can hear his sigh.

He will be SO pissed.

You put the phone down as you get up to gather the passport forgery materials and put them in a briefcase. Your cookbook is already there along with some banknotes from different countries. As you pick up the black backpack of standard clothes and accessories that always waited for you in the corner of the door, you decide to wear the first jacket you bought, the dark blue jeans, the combat boots you got from a skinhead, the wristwatch you bought. you got for your brother's birthday, thick leather gloves and a thin white shirt that matches the rest of your outfit. After all, if you can die when you open the door, then die well dressed. Be sure to keep the Colt 1911 around your waist and the Russian dagger around your ankle, after yesterday you never know, Your pocket watch with the coat of arms of the Brazilian imperial family indicates that 15 minutes have passed since Merkel's phone call

You take one last look at the house you've been so proud of in recent years, snap a photo with the Polaroid you've won, and, with a bittersweet smile, close the door. One day when the wall comes down, the government changes and your face is forgotten, you can come back here, until then you will have to make do with the photo album you keep in your backpack and this photo.

Putting on your sunglasses, you arrive on the street and decide to take a taxi on the other corner, make sure you look around before leaving your home, no one knows your address, but you can't be sure the local gang is so stupid to the point of not following you after last night.

Getting a taxi was relatively easy. Neil, the driver, thanks to the boots, mistook you for a revolutionary and talked for 10 minutes about how he hoped he could take down the wall with his bare hands, you thought it was cool, but as you passed the big river that was just a few blocks away from the your brother's office, you couldn't hear a word from him.

A sign signaling that the river was closed to visitors made your eyes fill with tears. You used to go there when the day was bad, spread a blanket in a corner and watch the stars, or just laugh at the distinct reflection the water made of the moon and stars. Merkel accompanied you on anniversaries, justifying them as bonding experiences. After some freaks started swimming in the river and executions increased, STASI took over and you replaced the dark water for the restaurant's bright lights. But seeing it tightly closed gave him a feeling of anguish and rancor. You would silently curse the wall builders for the rest of the trip.

Neil seemed to notice but didn't comment on it, you thanked him, wiped your tears and left a good tip as you descended a block away from your final destination. This time you didn't need to look around because even though Merkel was super busy, he made sure to leave some security close to where your landing place was.

A tall man dressed in a red T-shirt approached you and hugged you as if he hadn't seen you in a long time. You've known him since the beginning of last year, when he arrived at Merkel's office begging for a job, and from the first moment the way he turned grief over his brother's death into a thirst for revolution made you admire the young man. The two of you walked through the great gate hand in hand as you asked about his life with genuine interest, and Klaus increasingly believed in Merkel's theory about you having such a pure heart that you didn't care about motivation or the number of lives they took, your explanation of the judgment not being your responsibility, crossed the man's head before he escorted you to the main office.

You thanked him with a smile, opened the door and stood in front of the table in the windowless room, where your brother was already waiting for you.

"What the hell happened? Are you okay? I was about to send J to get you, please tell me what happened"—he said hurriedly as he got up and pointed at the couch for you to sit on. J was one of the most dangerous women in the building and you were grateful for not wasting her time.

Putting your backpack and umbrella aside, you answered:

"I'll explain later, little brother, now let me help you. You need passports urgently, don't you?" Yes, you were stalling and postponing the conversation. He'd call you an idiot for going out on the street right after you got on the wanted list, and he'd feel guilty when he found out why you didn't tell him. Merkel wasn't going to understand that her fear of failing him was no one's fault but yourself.

Your sentence seemed to give him some responsibility back, but still, as he held out a glass of water for you, his eyes met yours with a glint that warned that this conversation was far from over.

"Yeah, I really do, but don't think I'm going to forget about it. Let's talk when this is all over. Even if it's the last thing I do today."

You accepted the glass with a bit of trepidation and stood up towards the large center table while opening the briefcase with the supplies you were going to need, if Merkel noticed the bills he didn't say anything. Once at the table, you made two passports for mother and daughter in record time. According to the clock, 10 minutes passed, faster than a car, this deserves a celebration. It would have been six if Merkel hadn't been so curious to make you waste time pulling your watch out of your pocket just for him to analyze.

Everything was going well and there was only one last detail for mother and daughter to be taken by one Percival to the other side of the wall. Percival, according to Merkel, was strange and fickle. Unreliable and extremely dangerous, you should also keep your distance from him, as this man had crucial contacts on both sides of the wall.

"He must have fewer contacts than you", you would answer

If a loud noise didn't break the silence

The annoying noise of the door creaking made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you almost missed the last signature, it made your body vibrate with irritation and your eyes follow to the offensive source of the sound. A tall man with short hair and blue eyes was holding the doorknob with a military posture and before you could release your anger and explain something about how people shouldn't be violent inside Merkel's office you noticed he was accompanied by a woman.

AND WHAT A WOMAN!

Your eyes connected to a pair of fierce, intent green eyes, surrounded by a pale skin tone and hair so blond it looked like snow. The barely perceptible frown showed she was surprised to find someone other than Merkel there, yet she looked ready for a battle. You looked into her eyes again and nodded in acknowledgment, this must be L, the woman he was talking about.

She looked at you suspiciously, but also as if she could see into your soul, and what must have been frightening, you found endearing. A few stories of murders orchestrated by her crossed your mind, but all you could imagine is how beautiful she must be when she's mad.

They say green eyes darken when we're high on adrenaline, does that happen to her?

Her analysis of the intriguing blonde ends when she notices that the man accompanying her has raised his voice and from his furious expression, it's not the first time he's repeated the question. You interrupt him before you hear him and make sure to direct the ghost of anger before him:

"Have you lost your mind? Who walks into the office without knocking? Surely you should be here asking about passports, but if it weren't for my experience and steady hands, they would be in the trash by now. Learn to be civilized. You're under two paws not four, so act human and not animal" you say in an explosive but articulate tone to make sure he understands what you say. Sometimes when you speak fast, you are betrayed by faulty diction. Not today. Today you want this man to feel every fiber of irritation that went through his body.

Hearing Merkel holding a nervous laugh, you try to relax, but judging by the cold, almost murderous look of the man in the doorway, you've definitely gotten yourself in trouble. Looking at the organized clothes, you notice it's an old police uniform, probably taken by your brother, and unless Merkel has hired new employees, you've never seen it around here. His eyes snap back to his and something inside you warns that this must be Percival. He probably wants to kill you.

Damn Murphy's Law

A brief silence settles in the room and you shake off the fear and turn away, refusing to play the glaring game with a man who almost spoils your art. On other days you might look at him at a party, but today you want to make him swallow the ink on the stamp in his hands and invite the blonde to dinner

And it's her voice that breaks the silence.

You're flipping through the two passports for failures when she says

"Sorry, miss. My friend is an unprecedented idiot. Shall I close the door and knock again? Perhaps your highness too--"

You turn her body towards her when you hear the slightest hint of irony in her tone and interrupt her with a fake smile as you look into her eyes.

"It's not necessary, I accept your apology, Miss. I always said that Merkel should have someone armed at the door to remind everyone of the need to knock on the door. Anyone who didn't knock would lose his mind as the law of my reign says. Perhaps I should start. for him, since the top head is the last thing he wears lately" you joke look at Merkel who doesn't seem offended by the statement, shrugging you look at those blue eyes again and say "the passports are ready. Let's get out of here."

You close the passports, reach for your backpack and umbrella and start moving towards the door, both agents let you lead the way and judging by the blonde's expression, she's not used to being interrupted, nor is she used to seeing someone talking like that with Merkel, but today it was acceptable. You really think she's adorable, but you know better than to let someone make fun of you, especially in front of your brother who wouldn't let you forget about it. Either she doesn't care, or she's a great actress. Anyway, that idiot is still by her side and you refuse to be the reason for his possible laugh.

Her friend probably didn't have the same acting classes and his resemblance to the local gang members, like he's going to kill you in the blink of an eye in a cowardly way, is almost frightening. If Merkel hadn't said L is a woman, you'd be scared. It makes you shiver a little and look for Merkel, but he's not following you. Looking over his shoulder you see him putting a few more piles of dollars and euros into your briefcase. With a snap of your fingers you get his attention and before you walk out the door, you hear the briefcase click closing.

Once out of the room, you look around and realize that nothing has really changed, all faces are familiar, except for three people: a couple talking to a child. After a brief analysis you find yourself facing the passport clients, mother and daughter. The man doesn't look older than 60 and has kind eyes, almost as if he doesn't live on this side of the wall.

They don't seem to notice you

Your observation is interrupted by Merkel's loud, proud voice, right behind you. Here it comes

"This is Elizabeth Loyd and Percival, two trusted clients. Elizabeth and Percival, this is my little sister, she will be on the march today, if you need anything in the future you can talk to her."

Hearing her name, you notice that Merkel really wasn't creative at all. Who would use the initial letter of a surname as a symbol? Anyone who heard the stories about L and met a loyde who knows a Merkel would make the connection. As you turn around, you swallow your nervousness and try to put on your best smile as you say your name to them. The blonde woman who finally has a name, Elizabeth, leans closer, her eyes never leaving yours, and you wonder if she can feel the jumble of emotions that is unraveling inside you.

She smiles a smile that makes you sure she does and reaches out and greets you with a firm grip, if she noticed the sweat on your hands, she didn't let on. She also looks a little more comfortable.

Maybe because she noticed you said her real name, idiot.

You hate yourself for one second and the next you want to be without gloves because it feels soft and warm.

The man, Percival, comes next and looks at you suspiciously and the smile fades from your face, you wonder if no one else can smell the strong smell he gives off, a smell of cheap whiskey and arrogance. Still, he holds out his hand and this time you thank the gods for the gloves. Make sure you don't bow your head or fail in your posture. He still looks at you like you killed his son. Useless even to pretend, for God's sake.

Merkel watches the exchange from afar and nods to Elizabeth, she responds and Percival walks away looking uneasy. You look around uncomprehendingly, feel a little left out, and wonder which computer must have Tetris installed.

You would kill for a distraction right now.

Going out on the street in a crowded march while being chased by two groups still makes you sick.

Your brother approaches and extends his hands around you. You've missed him for the past few weeks. He still wears the perfume you gave him for his birthday and it makes you sink deeper into the hug. You know he's going to be mad when he finds out what happened so you enjoy as much affection as you can

"Little sister, in addition to our conversation I need to tell you something" his voice is low in tone and you doubt you would understand the words if you weren't so close to him "but I can't do that until the march is over. Meet me at usual table at the restaurant where we celebrate our achievements, It's very important"

His even low voice is charged with strong emotion and you are genuinely worried, Merkel has never been like this before.

"I'll do it, brother, I promise. Whatever it is, we can work it out together" you say with all the certainty you can muster in your voice, because you need him to understand that this is true.

You feel eyes on you and as you look up you notice that Elizabeth keeps an eye on your exchange with Merkel while talking to the little girl's father, from the distance she probably can't understand anything and you don't know if she celebrates or cares with so much attention received. A little further away is a Percival who pretends to be busy with the coat he's wearing. He also pays attention to your exchange, but his talent for discretion is as effective as his ability to open doors.

Your eyes return to the concentrated blue eyes that are in front of you and Merkel speaks in an almost inaudible way:

"When I whistle, I need you to raise your open umbrella and stay alert. The three people we're going to cross are very important, nothing can go wrong. But if it does, I'll be at the restaurant, whatever happens find me there."

Noticing the proximity of Percival and Elizabeth, you place your hand on your brother's shoulder and smile as you speak a little louder:

"Don't worry man, it's always a pleasure to help you. I'll leave my briefcase here, then meet you to get it. Good march."

Merkel shows that she understands his strange move and smiles, you greet some friends of his that you haven't seen in a while and as you head towards the exit, you meet a pair of deep green eyes. Elizabeth is gleaming in the cold lights that are refracted by the mosaic of the gate, she looks into your eyes, ever alert, looks at the object in your hands and nods her head with a half smile, do you think the guard's idea black rain was hers.

As you wave back, you can feel that a pair of eyes haven't left your back since the moment of your brother's embrace, as the old man is saying goodbye to the family, you know who they belong to and decide not to look for them. If the STASI, KGB or local gang find you, he doesn't own the pair of eyes you want to remember before you die.

Taking a deep breath, you walk through the gate and blend into the crowd.

..........................................................................................................................

After leaving Merkel's office block, you take a hat out of your backpack and wear your sunglasses as you look around, not that a local gang member is here but because if he sees you in disguise he will ask a series of questions and he has enough problems already, plus STASI must be monitoring this area and the last thing you want is to be arrested. You decide to tuck your coat into your backpack to change your look, and while internally debating your ability to ignore the cold, your eyes catch the almost snowy blond hair in the crowd.

This signals that they are already on the march and you decide to get a little closer to them, but make sure you do this without drawing attention to yourself since the nasty man is still there. Elizabeth is on your diagonal absorbing all the extraneous details that might be a possible threat, she seems so focused on the job of passing the owner's gentle eyes in a safe way that it makes you wonder how important he is and if she's noticed you.

A few meters later a familiar noise floats through the march and you open the umbrella almost instantly, as do other protesters.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Percival taking the man's family across and sometime later Elizabeth does the same. You notice that her posture has changed and when she decides to stop for a better look, the crowd drags her and you can no longer locate her.

Her feet continue forward and as some signs are raised by the protesters, you try to find your brother. Unsuccessfully. You decide to trust their ability and hope that you can meet him again at the restaurant.

You also want Elizabeth to be okay.

Continuing on the march, after two or three long blocks you notice the familiar silhouette of one of the STASI bosses, he is watching the crowd as if looking for someone, but he doesn't seem to notice you. You notice observers on top of buildings and decide to leave the streets. Whether it's the Local Gang, KGB or STASI itself you don't know and decide you don't want to know.

Your brain tries to design routes to escape and your body mimics the movements of the closest protesters so as not to draw attention to you, but when some agents in black point in your direction and make space in the crowd, you run between people to seek shelter in somewhere you know and at every step you are sure that the day will be worse than you thought.

Damn Murphy's Law

#lorraine broughton x reader #lorraine broughton #atomic blonde #charlize theron

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