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#send in more break up lyrics of them i would love to make some more
honey-flustered · 25 days
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Along For The Ride (Part 1 of 2)
MDNI +18 Only!!
Farmer!Older!Beefy!Eddie Munson/ Mean!Bougie!Fem!Reader
Summary: A drunken joyride leads you in the midst of Eddie Munson, who’s seeking repayment for the damages made to his property by you. Fed up with your constant misbehavior, your father makes a deal with Eddie in which you will do some manual labor around his farm in exchange. You’re not too pleased with this arrangement and your differences in personalities lead to a clashing of heads…and tongues?? (8.5k words)
A/N: I have not written in ages. It is really tough being a writer with the pressures I place on myself to be perfect, to gain more likes and followers, to write things as quickly as possible. I’m learning to fall in love with writing again. It’s a slow process but someday I’ll be able to share all the great things I’ve been working on for the past year. Anyway, here is my start to starting my journey again and thank you all for supporting me.
CW: fluff and lots of angst, enemies to friends to lovers trope, SLOW BURN, age gap (Eddie 40s, Reader 20s), mean!affluent!reader, bad girl reader, light smut/eventual heavy smut, bratty!reader, ugly duckling turned swan trope, reader character development, mean friends, minor canon events from tv series (chrissy death, eddie accused of chrissy and other victims deaths), limited knowledge of farm life and work, drunk driving, consumption of marijuana and alcohol, committing of property crimes, return of reader’s ex, mentions of insecurities, descriptive and graphic language, lots of sexual tension, kissing, dry humping, eddie cums in his pants
You bellow out the lyrics to Taylor Swift’s “We Are Never Getting Back Together” along with your three friends, not a care in the world for who would be unfortunate enough to hear you in the chilly 3 am evening. The girls pass around a bottle of tequila when your best friend, Tana, —seated in the passenger seat— attempts to pour a shot into your mouth.
“Babe, no. I drank enough at the club. The guy that asked for my number was practically throwing them at me. I had to kill a plant by pouring my drinks onto the poor thing. Men ruin everything.” You pout.
“Amen to that, sis,” Tana says, snapping her fingers. “Had a guy tell me that he thinks I’m the one for him. Turns out, he’s married with a baby on the way.”
You all playfully point your index fingers to your tongues, faking gags before leading into a giggling fit.
“I had a guy ghost me because he didn’t like me sharing my selfies on social media. Said that ‘they should only be exclusive to him’.” Your friend, Essie, shares.
“I feel like we need to get back at men for the shit they put us through,” Brooke chimes in. “I’m in the mood to make a man fall to his knees, whimpering for mercy.”
“You kinky little minx!” You laugh. “Are you trying to make men pay or are you trying to get laid?”
“Can it be both?” Brooke says, biting her acrylic-donned thumb.
“I say…” Tana calls attention to herself, raising a hand. “We choose a random house on this street to wreak our vengeance. One of the homes has to belong to a man.”
“I’m in!” Essie beams.
“Me too.” Brooke says, high fiving Tana for her devious plan.
“I don’t know, guys,” You say, reluctant to rain on their parade. “We’re pretty drunk but I don’t think we’re drunk enough to want vandalism charges. Let’s just go to one of those rage rooms and let out all this pent up energy. We could scream out female rage lines from our fave movies and break shit.”
“That’s…okay but it’s not as epic as Tana’s idea,” Essie says, leaning forward to be in better earshot range. “Come on, y/n. It’s only for tonight. You know, we’re just having some harmless girl time fun. It’s not like we’ll be breaking and entering. We’re just gonna do some silly stuff then leave. Pleeaaase. I just broke up with my boyfriend. I need this.”
You take a quick glance at the girls who all send big, puppy eyes your way. You sigh then laugh. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
They cheer at your response, knowing that they’ve won. You raise a hand to cease their cheers and they quickly go dead silent. “Since, I’m the most sober one here. We’re doing this my way,” While staring at the road ahead, a smirk slowly spreads across your face. “I get to choose the place.”
——————
The four of you sneak onto the open field, tiptoeing through the tall grass. Based on the smell wafting in the air, you are certain there are barn animals nearby.
With a nasal tone in her voice from holding her nose, Tana says, “Ugh, how could anyone work around this icky smell?”
“Shhh,” You order, putting a finger to your lips. “If we need to be quiet if this is going to be a successful in and out mission. Do you remember the plan?”
“How could I forget? It’s the most basic prank ever.” Tana whisper-yells, holding up the two rolls of toilet paper in her hands.
“It’s still a huge pain to the homeowner,” You defend confidently before letting out a wicked giggle. “He will be so inconvenienced when he wakes up in the morning.”
Tana shakes her head lovingly at you before peering to her right and left. “Umm, y/n, where’s Essie and Brooke?”
Your eyes widen as you unintelligibly peer to your right and left as well despite knowing the space is empty. “Oh shit,” You facepalm. “How could we have let them out of our sight? Who knows what those morons are doing?”
“Hew we awe,” Essie carries a ‘baby talk’ inflection as she materializes from the dark bluish night with a medium-sized pig cradled in her arms. “Evwyone meet Wilbur.”
“I’m sorry but where the hell did you get that pig?!” You say, no longer able to keep your voice to a whisper.
“The barn, obviously.” Brooke replies.
“What happened to not breaking and entering?! I take my eyes off you two for a second and you’ve already broken a handful of crimes.” You scold.
“But we’re saving him, y/n. You don’t want this pig to become bacon, do you?” Essie says, holding up the pig near your face only for it to wiggle out of her grasp and take off running.
“We’ve gotta catch that stupid fucking pig!” You yell and the girls obey. The group comically chases the animal around, slipping and sliding through mud and crops. In the chaos, the pig makes contact with the toilet paper you’ve long abandoned, tossing it around with the help of the forceful winds to guide it all over the field.
You spot the pig approaching the door of a small blue cottage. You dive forward, fully immersed in the thick mud that soiled your white tank top and denim skirt and you cared little for this fact with your concerns focused on obtaining the pig in your arms. He squeals and whines against you as you plead for its compliance.
Suddenly the porch lights turn on, shining down on you like a spotlight. The door swings open and not long after you’re forced to look into the eyes of your prosecutor from the ground.
A rugged, older man with unruly, curls of brown hair cascading down his shoulders and the deepest brown eyes that are as large as buttons. The same eyes that were now staring down angrily at you.
“What the fuck?” He says through gritted teeth. It’s not until he sees the full extent of your wrath that he decides to emphasize his previous statement with a fury of a thousand suns. “What. The. Fuck!”
You swallow hard, releasing the pig as you collect yourself off the floor. The man feels no need to check whether his pet had entered the home safely, wanting his eyes to focus on you in case you tried running.
“I-I could explain. W-we were just—”
“We?” He abruptly interrupts, upholding the gruffness in his tone.
You were afraid that he’d say that. After all, those bitches were a little too quiet for your liking. After looking behind you to confirm their abandonment, you slowly face your prosecutor once again.
Swallowing the hard lump in your throat you begin, you try scrambling for an answer. This is already a very terrifying situation. This man looked terrifying himself. He’s robust in build, littered with tattoos, and had piercings. You don’t see men like him everyday or at all on your side of town. Men usually groomed themselves like ken dolls where you come from. But when you have come across men that look like him, the experience has always been a negative one—-only this time you were the one at fault.
“I’m sorry.” You shrug with an awkward smile then tack on a “Please don’t call the cops.”
He sighs deeply. “I’m not going to call the cops…”
“Oh, thank god.” You sigh in relief, a hand to your beating chest.
“You’re going to call your parents,” He finishes. “And you are going to tell them that we’re going to come up with a solution for this or I will be calling the police.”
“Oh, fuuuck.” You groan.
————-
“I’m so very sorry, sir. Truly,” Your father says after profusely apologizing for the 7th time since his arrival. “She’s been acting out a lot ever since she’d gone away to university. My wife and I don’t know this girl but she is not the y/n we raised.”
You roll your eyes at the comment, texting away at your friends who wanted to know the details of your capture. Meanwhile, you’re too busy cursing them out to care about how badly you’ll be punished for this.
“I’m just glad things didn’t get any worse or when someone could’ve seriously ended up getting hurt.” The farmer says, staring pointedly at you.
“Now I was thinking…though I could very well pay for the trouble and we could be out of your hair, I’m a man that likes to go above and beyond when it comes to taking responsibility. My daughter’s exceedingly aware of this fact about myself,” Your father scoots his seat up closer to the table, fingers together as if proposing a business plan. “It appears that you might need some temporary assistance in tending to your farm work. If you’re looking for an extra set of hands to help with some manual labor for the next two weeks, my daughter is happy to oblige.”
“Excuse me!” You say, attention fully invested in the conversation. “Tell me you're joking.”
“Nope. You are grounded. Meaning that though you are visiting for spring break, you are currently under my roof, my rules. I am still your parent after all. To clarify, there will be no going out with your friends. You are to come straight to
Mr. Munson’s farm every day after your time at your mother’s shop. You’ll help the gentleman around with whatever he asks of you.” Your father explains.
“And what if I don’t?” You ask, defiant.
“Then you’ll be cut off and you’ll have to earn money on your own.”
“Y-you m-mean a j-job?” You ask, horrified.
“Exactly.” Your father confirms.
You stare wide-eyed at farmer Munson who has a prominent smirk on his face. “I like the sound of that, sir. You’re a good man.”
You shriek in anger. “You’re the worst!”
You furiously stomp out of the home, hating your life and men once again.
————
Your father had no doubts that you’d be going to work on the farm once he’d threaten to take away your (his) money. When you arrive at the address, you’re immediately reminded how you're not on your side of town anymore. It’s officially Hickville.
Reluctantly knocking on the door, you hope that Eddie won’t answer the door, praying that he’s changed his mind and took the money instead. Unfortunately, he answers the door with a huge smile in contrast to your deadpan demeanor.
“Oh, come on, lighten up, sugar. I made some of my famous iced tea ahead. One taste and it’ll all seem worth it.”
“It’s not fair!” You rant, pushing passed him. “Why am I being the only one punished? This was all Brooke’s idea. And Essie was the one who stole the goddamn pig.”
“His name is Wilbur,” Eddie corrects. “And who are we talking about exactly?”
“Doesn’t matter,” You sigh. “Bad things always happen to good people.”
“I’ll say.” Eddie says, staring you down.
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
“You really think you’re the victim in all of this?”
“Are you?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t we check out the lovely view of the TP’d trees blowing in the wind?” He asks sarcastically, gesturing to his window.
“It’s just a little toilet paper. Never had a little prank done on you.”
“Wow,” He feigns a smile, shaking his head at you. “Your audacity to diminish all the negative things you’ve done to me into the spirit of good fun is astounding.”
“My therapist did always say I have a knack for looking at things on the bright side.” You retort.
“Is that so?” He asks mockingly. “Well then, you’re gonna love this special job I have for you.”
—————
Which leads you to the situation you’re in now. You’re staring into the eyes of a cow whose large brown eyes kind of reminded you of farmer Munson except they actually held kindness in them and not pure disdain.
“There’s no way I’m milking this thing. I have no idea how to do that,” You say, prompting Eddie to raise a suggestive eyebrow at you. “You know what I mean, pervert.”
Suddenly, an idea clicked in your head. Maybe you could use this ‘pervert’ thing to your advantage. He’s obviously single or he wouldn’t be this much of a crab. You can easily seduce him and get out of doing anything!
“Mr. Munson,” You say with a purr in your voice as you press yourself up against him. “I’m actually really good at milking other things after all. You’ve got me pegged at that. Maybe…I can show you just how skillful my mouth and hands can be for you.”
He laughs. He fucking chuckles in your face. How fucking dare he?! “That was rich. Seriously, that performance was just…moving. You can try to sway me with sex all ya want, hun. Trust me there are women and men who’ve tried,” He slightly narrows the gap between your faces, staring you down. “I don’t buckle under that kinda pressure, sugar. It’ll take a lot more than salacious words to make my dick jump. Now why don’t we go back to the task at hand, shall we?”
You’re fuming. This asshole really thinks he can get away with making you out to be a fool. Well, two could play that game. You’re going to make his existence for the next two weeks feel like a total nightmare.
He seats you on a small stool beside the cow before instructing you on how to milk her. You halfheartedly reach for an udder, shrieking at the feel of it between your fingers.
“This is so gross!” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m going to disassociate and imagine that I’m in a niche boutique in Manhattan.”
“Ah, spending daddy’s money even in your dreams. How thoughtful.” He mutters.
“You have no right to judge me just because you think I’m privileged.” You snap.
“I don’t ‘think’ you’re privileged. You are privileged. See the difference?”
You tug on an udder, purposefully targeting him as the milk drenches him. His face puckers his face before staring daggers at you.
“Oops.” You say in a sickeningly sweet tone.
——————
You begrudgingly enter your house key into the doorknob, body aching from the day's work. The moment you enter, your father’s happy-go-lucky spirit engulfs you and it takes everything in you not to explode.
“Hey, honey, how was your first day?”
“Question, father,” You begin, calling him the formal term instead of “papa” or “dad”. “Do you love me?”
“Now what kind of silly question is that?” He reverts back with his own question, befuddled.
“I’m just curious because I don’t think a father who truly loves their daughter would ever put her through the kind of hell I just went through today.” You respond.
“You milked a cow,” Your teenager brother, Aspen, enters the dining room before beginning a dramatic act. “Someone save the poor girl! She’s gaining new life experiences! You are such primadonna.”
“Shut up, ya little twerp.” You say, pulling his hoodie over his face.
“Your brother’s right, dear,” Your father says. “You are being really dramatic. I don’t get it. You never used to be this way. You loved reading books and conducting personal science experiments and geeking out over your favorite movies—”
“That just isn’t me anymore, dad. The sooner you accept that, the better it is for us all.” You grumble.
He decides to drop the topic in favor of keeping the peace for the dinner your mom prepared for the family to enjoy as a unit. But your mind couldn’t help but to wander back to those times where you were seen as a nerd and bullied for being different and having different interests. University was a different story though. There, you were able to reinvent yourself into the hot bad bitch you know today.
But why is it that your father’s words resonated so much with you? Had it been because it wasn’t the makeover or the new friends and partners you’d make along the way…it was the fact that he knew that you, yourself, couldn’t believe your own act. He knows that you're lying to yourself about liking the person you’ve become. No way could ever admit such a thing to him. And it’s not like you’d feel this way forever. Once you’re done with this hell labor with Eddie “The Devil” Munson, you can go back to your popular life.
————
The routine continued including your constant pushback. It went: shadowing your mother for the day with her bridal clients, heading over to the Munson farm soon after, non stop bickering between the two of you for 2 hours, then heading back home to soak your aching body and curse out the world.
Today is no different with the task of you grooming the stupid pig that got you into this mess in the first place.
“Wilbur. His name’s—”
“I know!” You shout at him, gathering the metal pail and wooden brush from the table. You grumpily made your way to the backyard of the home in search of the shed supposedly carrying the soap to clean the pig. When you notice Wilbur rushes out of a trailer home stationed in the backyard. “Hey, get back here!”
The pig is long gone and you don't care to chase after it once your interest is piqued by the mystery home in the backyard. Searching around to make sure there were no signs of Mr. Munson, you enter the place cautiously.
It’s as if the trailer had been stuck in the 1980s. Everything is vintage and old looking but also well kept. You see photos of the younger Eddie Munson scattered around the walls of the home and—-though you hate to admit it—he was just as handsome as he is now. In some of the photos including one pinned to the fridge by a magnet, you can see an older man. Maybe his father.
Your eye catches an old poetry assignment also pinned to the fridge with a large ‘C+’ above it. A little note at the top explaining his grade being contributed to some misspellings and some inappropriate language despite the good work.
You raise the paper to your eyes and read:
If I Were A Hobbit
If I were a hobbit, I’d be so free
I’d frolic in the grass and smoke some trees
With furry feet and a merry heart
From adventure’s call, I’d never depart
With Bilbo’s tales, I’d while away time.
In the beautiful land of Middle Earth’s rhyme
I’d wander the fields beneath the sun
I’d travel it world cause it’s all in good fun
If I were a hobbit, maybe I wouldn’t get laid
But, hey, it’s goddamn worth the price I paid
You giggle, amused at how fun Mr. Munson had been long ago. You wonder what could’ve happened. Immersed in the poem, you were unaware of his arrival until he whispered haughtily into your ear.
“We’re continuing the trend of breaking and entering, I see.”
You jolt away, facing him. “I-I’m sorry. But you said that I had to look for a shed. Should be more specific.”
“This looks like a shed to you, sugar?”
“Trailer…shed…it’s no different.”
He chuckles dryly. “You are a piece of work.”
“Look who’s talking? You know, you seemed a lot more fun when you were a teenager.” You comment, holding up the poem.
“Give me that,” He yanks from your hands, placing it back on the fridge. “Ain’t anyone ever tell you it’s wrong to go snooping around people’s things. Wait, who am I kidding? I met your father. Even if he were to have taught you these things, you’d probably go against him.”
“You’re a pain in my ass.” You hiss.
“Right back atcha, sweetheart.” He retorts.
“Then, I hope you don’t mind if I continue to do so.” You say, pushing past him to go into the hallway.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, hot on your trail.
You enter a bedroom and it’s another blast from the past. The typical kind of teenage boy bedroom. It’s no shock to you that he's a metalhead. You begin to rummage through his collection.
“You little brat,” He huffs. “I’m too old to be dealing with this shit!”
“Live a little,” You say, popping in a blues cassette into the radio. “Dance with me.”
He stands in the middle of the room, arms crossed as you begin to dance in circles around him. Your boot kicks up a newspaper article crumpled up on the ground and you go to retrieve it, ignoring Eddie’s protests.
It is an article about 15 years ago that expresses Eddie Munson’s exoneration in the death of Chrissy Cunningham and him receiving only a $50,000 settlement. It also goes into detail that his only known immediate family and caretaker, Wanye Munson, had died just a month before his release.
“Oh my god, Mr. Munson. I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t…” You trail off, knowing what to say or even where to begin.
“It’s all in the past now,” He sighs. “Besides, I’m fine now. I still have my friends. They are like family. They’ve got their own lives but when they can they check on me. That’s more than enough.”
Without thinking, your arms curl around his body and for the first time you get to feel his body against yours and it’s addicting. He tenses for a moment, unsure whether this is okay but eventually he melts into your embrace.
His beefy arms cradle you, a large hand resting atop your head. Your heartbeats fall in sync with one another’s and you allow yourself the brief moment to nuzzle into his chest, the chest hairs peeking above his tank top tickles the tip of your nose.
You dare to look him in the eyes, seeing them already looking down at you. They were wet with unshed tears, pleading with you for something. It’s the first time you’ve seen that look on his face and like a magnet you're drawn to it. You’re suddenly moving on your own accord, tiptoeing to brush your nose against his. He lowers his face to your level. Your lips are only a mere centimeters from his full ones when the sound of his phone ringing takes you both out of the moment.
He’s quick to pull away as if freed from an intense spell. Excusing himself, he leaves the room and heads outside. You’re left standing in the room alone, the soft, rhythmic melody of blues playing in the background.
Willing yourself to cool down, you decide to go on with your original task and find Wilbur while hoping it’ll shake off the electric feeling he left on your skin.
————————-
Bathing the pig proved to be quite the distraction because this little shit is making you use all your brain power to keep it still. Having stripped into just your bikini and rainboots, you held the pig for dear life as you washed and scrubbed at him and practically yourself.
You notice Eddie from the corner of your eye, stifling laughter as he leaned against a nearby tree.
“By the way, I’ve already washed off all the barn animals, tended to my crops, and was able to make myself a sandwich in the meantime. You, however, you’re still working on Wilbur. Or should I say, he’s working you.”
“Hardee har har,” You say, unamused. “Will you just help me with this pig?”
“Alright, alright,” He says, heading over to you. The pig immediately jumps from his grasp and into your arms. “It’s all in the technique.”
“Easy for you to say. He already knows you.” You grumble.
“Now what you’re gonna want to do is come up behind him. He's a big fella so in order to hold him down you’ll need to straddle him like this and place your hands down firmly on his back. That way he’ll know to stay put,” Eddie says getting into position, his boots digging in the dirt for some leverage. “He’ll tussle with ya a little but it’s only because he’s not used to being handled by other humans. He’s still a little frantic with me even after all these years. I saved him from the slaughterhouse so it comes with the territory.”
“You mean you weren’t going to turn him into bacon?”
“No, sugar, Wilbur’s family. Now get up on here with me. Don’t put too much of your weight on him. Only just enough to hold him down.” He instructs.
You follow suit, straddling the pig and placing your hands over Eddie’s before looking back over your shoulder at him. “Like this?”
“Just like that, sugar. You’re a natural. See? Now I’m just gonna go ahead and get up and you’ll take the—”
“What? No, don’t leave me! He’ll just shake me off again.” You protest.
Sure enough, the pig began to shake the both of you off its back, side to side until you both fell back into the soil. You fall right into Eddie’s lap and he instinctively grips your hips hard, causing you to let out a yelp and scramble out of his grasp.
You sat on your knees, looking at him with wide eyes and he returned with the same expression. The blush on his face intensifies and you follow the way his hands rush to pull the cowboy hat from his head to hold against his lap.
He quickly looks away from you, clearing his throat.
“You’ve got—erm, your bikini bra…” You’ve never seen him so flustered. So speechless. You eish you could relish in it but when you realize exactly what he’s insinuating, you feel your cheeks begin to heat up as you wish the world will swallow you whole.
Your tit is hanging out for the world to see. A fucking nipple slip! Why did God cease at nothing to make you the butt of every joke?
You briskly adjust your bra, shaking in your boots. The itching desire to run heavy on your mind.
“I-I s-should go,” Your shaky legs somehow allow you to stand as you peer down at him. “Have a good evening, Mr. Munson.”
You stiffly power walk your way to the small cottage home to gather your discarded clothes on the porch. Eddie’s large hand rests on your shoulder.
“Wait! I can’t send you off like this. You’ll track mud in your car.”
“It’s not like I haven’t done that before.” You scoff.
“Why don’t you shower here and I’ll offer you some fresh clothes? I’ll be making my stir fry in case you're hungry.”
“You being nice to me all of a sudden, Mr. Munson?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t help but think there’s some kind of hidden agenda.”
He smiles a genuine 100-watt smile. “No, sugar. I’m just extending some needed hospitality is all.”
—————
You pull on the long sleeved t-shirt Eddie offered you, studying its logo. A horned demon, swords, dice and so on.
“It’s my old high school club t-shirt.” He says, coming to sit beside you on the couch.
“You were in a Dungeons and Dragons club?”
“You know D’N’D?”
“Know it?! I loved that game.” You say, excitedly.
“I didn’t think kids in your generation still played that game.” He laughs.
“Oh, yeah,” You nod. “I was a dungeon master. My campaigns were fire. Anyone who’d joined my games would always go around telling their friends to come see me in action.”
“No way! I was a dungeon master, too! I took it a little too seriously at times but it was like my second passion,” He looks you up and down. “I would have never thought someone like you would be into that kinda stuff.”
“I’ll ignore your sly comment to clarify that I wasn’t always like this back in high school.”
“What do you mean?” He asks.
“Well, you heard my dad. I used to be a goody two-shoes. A nerd. And I even dressed the part, too. The old me would’ve totally geeked at your Hobbit poem. I’m different now though.”
“What’s so wrong about being a nerd?” He inquires, scooting closer to you.
“I used to get bullied everyday. Boys would ignore me. Even the geeks would only ever see me as a friend. When I got to university, that all changed. Everyone wanted me.”
“I think if I’d known you then, we’d probably be good friends.”
“Yeah right. I seemed like the bad boy type who falls for the cheerleader. You wouldn’t have looked twice in my direction.”
“No,” Eddie says firmly, staring you intensely in the eyes. “I would see you.”
He repeats for emphasis. “I see you.”
You swallow the hard lump in your throat, choking back tears. You’ve never felt so vulnerable. It’s strange to be so open with a man who 5 days ago you would have choked with your bare hands.
“Besides,” He says, breaking the silence. “I think it’s you who would have ignored me. I’m not the bad boy you think I am. Sure, I was a bit of a troublemaker here and there. But I was a huge geek, too. Hadn’t even lost my virginity until age 36. A year after my release. No girl wanted to fuck me back in high school. I was ‘the freak’. To some people today, I still am one regardless if I’m innocent.”
“I would’ve believed you’re innocent. I’d have been by your side, too. Us, geeks, have to stick together, yeah?”
He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.”
There’s that magnetic pull again. The attraction that makes you want to be as close to him as possible. You resist not wanting to make that move again but he takes the initiative, leaning in further only this time you're interrupted once again with the sound of your phone ringing. You throw a silent fit in your head. Eddie’s just as frustrated, expelling a long duration of air from his nose.
“Hello.” You say, answering the phone.
“Hey, baby,” A familiar voice says on the line. “It’s been months. I still think about our time in Venice and this spring fever is only making it harder to ignore.”
Now the memories come flooding in. It’s an ex-fling you met while studying abroad in Italy during your freshman year of university. The man who’d taken your virginity and showed you the ropes to popularity. The moment you left Italy you expected him to call you back but he immediately ghosted you. From then on, you became the maneater you are today.
“What do you want?”
You, of course. I hear you are back in your hometown. Luckily for you, I am doing some research here and I was wondering—-“
“Luckily for me? Are you on drugs, Stefan? I don’t care if you want me. You could forget my number and then you’ll forget me. Have a goodnight.” You quickly hang up the call, ignoring his pleas.
“Is everything alright?” Eddie asks, noticing the way you’re hyperventilating.
“I am now,” You sigh. “That was my ex. He was also my first. He treated me like shit made me feel stupid and like I needed him as if he created me. And back then, I felt like I did need him. Then he ghosted me. It felt good to give him a piece of my mind although I wish I could have said more.”
“I think you said enough. I’m certain you hit him where it hurts.” He laughs.
“I should probably go.” You say, standing up from the couch to grab your coat.
“What happened to staying for dinner?” He asks.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Munson”
“Eddie. You can call me Eddie.”
“Eddie,” You say, testing his name on your tongue. You’re not exactly sure if you’re ready to be this informal with him despite your almost kisses and the boob slip incident. “I’m sorry but his call has left me shaken. I think I need to be in the company of my girls.”
“You mean, the girls who got you into trouble and left you behind? The ones your parents warned you to stay away from?”
“Come on, dude, I need this. It’s not like you can give me great advice about guys.”
“I could. Considering I am one.”
“Well, I don’t think we’re close enough for that kind of session.”
“We just had this whole heart to heart. I thought we were seeing some improvement in our friendship.” Eddie says.
“We’re friends?”
“Us, geeks, stick together?”
“That’s just an oath. Doesn’t exactly confirm a friendship between us.”
He exhales deeply, trying to contain his anger. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I tell your father about your little hangout.”
“Are you blackmailing me?” Your eyes narrow at him.
“That would suggest that I’d be getting anything of value out of this which I wouldn’t be. Therefore, no this isn’t blackmail but it is definitely a threat. I don’t care if we’re friends. I don’t care to be your friend, sugar. But as the more responsible adult between us, I think it’s within our best interest that you don’t hang out with the people who cause you to commit crimes. So, I think I’ll be taking you home, hmm?”
“And what about my car?”
“I’ll take good care of it for tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow for your next job.” He smiles smugly.
If looks could kill, he’d be 7 feet under and you’d already be in hell.
————
Eddie pulls up to the front of your house. The whole ride there had been silent. You angrily gather your things, hurriedly trying to exit his van.
“Have a goodnight, sugar!” He shouts as you slam the door in his face.
Once you’re inside, you do the routine process of angrily ranting out your annoyance with farmer Munson while stomping angrily up the stairs. Your family used to this by now simply goes about business as usual.
You dial up Tana and after a couple rings she answers. “Hey, bitch! I was just about to text you the news. Did you hear who’s in town?”
“Yeah, Stefan, I know. How’d you know?”
“He's been calling me nonstop asking for you. Says he wants to talk to you.”
“I already did. Told him to fuck off,” You say. “And I thought I’d feel a lot better about it but I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I didn’t get to stomp on his weirdly-shaped small dick.”
“Oh, yeeahh. I remember the dick pic he sent you. It is weird, isn’t it? Like an undeveloped banana. Anywho…you wanna get high at my place and watch America’s Next Top Model reruns. I’ve got Jell-O shots.” She singssongs the last statement.
“I can’t remember. I’m on lockdown,” You sigh. “If I get into any more trouble or I might as well hand over a contract of my soul to the devil.”
“Bitch, you are a grown woman. These are the best years of our lives where we’re supposed to live it to the fullest. Sneak out! I’m coming over to pick you up.”
“Tana, n—” But she’s already hung up the call. Sometimes, you really hate this girl. With no choice, you’re forced to make a plan.
Firstly, you create a human-shaped pile in your bed, disguising it with your comforter. Next, you’ll be climbing out of your window and quietly land on your lawn. Finally, you enter your friend’s car and you’ll be homefree.
Although, the climb is a lot more daunting than you anticipated. It seemed like a lot of a higher jump from where you are standing. Tana’s car pulls in and she rushes out to jump up and wave, whisper-yelling to encourage you to do it.
“Tana, this is fucking crazy. You always make me do crazy shit.” You yell down at her.
“But it’s all for the sake of fun experiences.” She retorts. “Come on and jump. Be the bad bitch, you are. Think for a second. WWBD: What would Beyonce do?”
“She'd probably fire you as a friend.” You growl.
“Fair enough.”
“Okay, I’m ready to jump. Just be ready to catch me.”
“What?” Before Tana could register what you meant, you jumped, hurtling into her arms and straight to the ground.
“Huh, that wasn’t so bad.” You smile.
“Yeah, because I’m the one breaking your fall.” Tana groans.
“Payback’s a bitch, love.”
—————
“So, is the farmer plowing your garden?” Tana asks, while applying mascara to your eyelashes.
“Tana!”
“What? That’s got to be the only reason you’re officially over Stefan.” She says.
“I was already over Stefan. Eddie’s just my headache.”
“You’re on first name bases with him. Oh, you are definitely fucking him.”
“I’m not!” You insist.
“And did you say Eddie? That’s the infamous Eddie Munson. How could I have not seen the connection? He’s so hot. Is that okay to say about a murderer?”
“He’s not a murderer.” You quickly defend him causing Tana to raise her hands in surrender.
“Yikes, I’m sorry I didn't mean to offend your friend.”
“He’s not my…well, he is. But…he’s not a murderer. He never killed her. I did some digging on the internet and this town used to be really strange back then. Not how it is now. I don’t know but the circumstances in all the deaths that happened back in ‘86 are all too weird. No human could do the things that I’ve seen done to those corpses.”
“Bummer. Guess we’ll never know who did it. I hear people who know of this case still harass him to this day. It’s no wonder he practically lives off the grid.” Tana sighs. A knock at her front door leads her away and you’re alone to ponder your thoughts.
An overwhelming need to comfort Eddie hits you as you thought back to the moment he’d asked you to stay for dinner. You assumed it was all a ploy to get into your pants but now you realize that he’d genuinely enjoyed the little company he’d gotten.
You hear Tana’s footsteps and a set of another coming up the stairs and before you could get a chance to tell her that you’ll be leaving, she enters the room with your ex.
“What the hell is this?” You sneer.
“I just thought maybe you should hear him out.” Tana says with an anxious smile.
“I’m out of here.” You say, grabbing your jacket from her bed.
“Where are you going? Your car’s not here.” Tana rushes down the stairs after you.
“I’ll walk!” You hiss over your shoulder, pulling the door open where you’re unfortunately met with the presence of your father, brother, and the devil himself.
“Mr. Munson? Dad? What the hell are you all doing here?”
“Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Your father says.
Stefan steps out from behind you, handing you a piece of paper. “I can see that it is a bad time, mi cara. Please, call me when you can. It’s a new number since you’ve blocked my old one.”
With that, he acknowledges the men before him with a nod and leaves. It’s not lost on you that Eddie stares him down with a dirty look on his face before his eyes land back on you.
“If I could just explain...” You begin.
“No, y/n, I’m sick of your excuses. You sneak off at night to god knows where. You reek of pot and booze. Is this the type of example you want to set for your younger brother? He’ll be graduating next year. Should anticipate that his time in university will consist of lollygagging around instead of focusing on his career?”
You look over to your brother who, instead of carrying a smirk, he had a look of genuine concern for you.
“I was just having fun.”
“Is that all you can think about? When did fun require drugs and alcohol and committing crimes?! Fun for you used to be attending cosplaying conventions, not vandalizing properties and drunk driving.”
“Well, I’m not that anymore so you could fucking stop clinging to the past.” You yell.
Your father is taken aback and you could faintly see the waterline rising in his eyes. “Get in the car. Now!”
You shoot Eddie an angry look. “Us, geeks, stick together? Forget anything I ever said about believing in you.”
Your heart twinges at the shattered look on his face at your statement. No longer wanting to see the extent of your blow, you brush past him and follow your father’s command.
“As for you, young lady,” your father points to Tana. “I will be in touch with your parents regarding your misconduct.”
Tana’s mouth drops in complete shock at this revelation and for a moment you actually are proud of your dad.
————-
You plop yourself onto your bed, crying your eyes out. Not even really crying for yourself but for Eddie. How could you have been so cruel to him? All for the reason that he cares enough about you to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble. There’s no way he’d ever forgive you for the way you spoke to him.
A knock on your door calls to your attention. You reluctantly answer, knowing you’ll be getting yet another punishment. You’re surprised to find your brother, Aspen, at the door.
“What do you want, twerp?” You say.
“You should really apologize to dad. You made him cry. I’ve never seen him like that.” He says.
“I know. It’s just that I hate when people remind me that I was…a loser. I didn’t mean to be so awful to him, though.”
“You were never a loser. In fact, I used to think you were pretty cool. I wanted to be comfortable in my weirdness as you were. I’m happy that you’re finding yourself and all. But you don’t have to change who you are to appease anyone. Not even dad. It’s your life, sis. If you like drinking and partying, that’s okay. If you like reading nerdy books and cosplaying, that’s okay, too. As long as it’s something you want to do and not something you do to make people like you. So stop acting like you’re some psycho fembot that wants to spend the rest of her life in and out of jail.”
“Wow, Aspen, I’m impressed. I did not know you could speak incoherent sentences.” You tease, pulling him into a hug.
“Fuck off.” He laughs, struggling to free from your tight embrace.
————
The next day, after some time to think of your apologies. You began with your father. He admitted to you that he was scared of the thought of you growing up and not needing him and let’s just say that the two of you ended up bawling in each other’s arms and confessing your love and appreciation for one another by the end of it. Your busy event planner mother stumbled into the scene both heartwarmed and confused.
The next one is going to be a tough one for you. But you felt prepared with a handy long written note in your hand in case you needed to find the right words.
However, the moment you arrived on his farm and were met with the look of indifference on his face, you began to break down sobbing. Hard. The thought letter long abandoned to the ground.
His demeanor immediately softens, placing a hand on your shoulder to comfort you.
“I-I’m s-so sorry….you…friend…mean…,” You gasp an unintelligible apology through your tears. “Bitchy…geeks…believe you…stupid pig Wilbur…never would have met a great man like youuuu.”
He gives you a small smile, pulling you into his embrace. “I know, I know.”
“Understand?” You ask.
“Yes, sugar. I understand what you said. Crystal clear.”
“Accept?”
“Yes, I accept your apology.” Eddie laughs.
“You don’t hate me?”
“I never hated you. Even when you’re being an annoying brat. ” He says.
“Good,” You sniffle, pulling away from him to wipe your tears and compose yourself. “I’m happy we’re friends again.”
“Friends? Who said anything about friends?” He quips before patting your shoulder. “Yeah, we’re friends again.”
“Now you could get to work and then later you can make me that stir fry that I've been dying to try.” You beam, skipping into his home.
“Only if you’re a good girl.” He challenges.
For the day, the two of you would groom the horses together. Of course, you were still quite jumpy and the bougie princess he knows you to be but it was nothing he didn’t find amusing about it anyway.
“You should seriously take a look at my note though. I really thought out all the things I had to say for you. My weeping apology was only the tip of the iceberg.”
“I don’t know. I don’t think anything in that note will top that moment but I’ll take your word for it.”
“Read it when you’re alone though. I don’t want to see your face when you read it.”
“Why?”
“Because I know you’ll be all smug about.” You say, rolling your eyes.
“And you say you hardly know me,” He chuckles then switches to a serious, gruff tone. “So…Stefan…he’s a looker. Thinking about going back on your word to end things with him.”
You laugh. “I’m playing it by ear. He says he’s changed but that’s every jerks’ favorite line.”
“Just let him know that if he ever hurts you, I’ll kick his ass.” He threatens.
You step into Eddie’s space, his face flushes at the close proximity. Your hand raises up to cradle his heated cheek. “You couldn’t hurt a fly, Edward Allan Munson.”
Lost in your eyes, he fails to notice you tug the joint nuzzled behind his ears. Until you raise it up to his face with a knowing smile. “You smoke weed?”
“Baby, I used to be a dealer. In fact, I still grow my own supply.”
“No way.”
“Oh yeah. Maybe I was the freak but those jocks and cheerleaders were begging for a piece of my supply.”
“You wouldn’t mind if we smoke this one together.” You suggest.
“After your father chewed you out for it last night?”
“He knows I do it. And I learned this morning, after our heart-to-heart, that he was once a pothead, too. And now that I know that you are also a pothead, not only does this confirm my personal theory that most people smoke weed but also this makes our friendship so much more interesting.”
“You’re starting to throw that whole ‘friendship’ word around a lot more enthusiastically now.”
“My friend’s a dealer. I’m going to take full advantage of that.” You loop your arm around his guiding him to an empty stable so you can both fall against the hay.
He picks the hay from his hair, laughing. “I don’t even have a lighter and the fumes are not safe for the animals.”
“Babe,” You say almost insulted. “I always carry a lighter. You never know when you’ll find yourself in an impromptu smoke session or possibly get lost in the middle of the woods. Besides, we released the animals into the field for their little recess. We’re the only animals left here. Just you and me.”
“Alright, fine I guess we’re doing this. Don’t tell your dad about this, though. This will just be a one time thing.”
“Mhm, yeah sure, bud,” You say nonchalantly, busying yourself with lighting the joint. You hand over the joint to him and he protests, wanting you to take the first hit. You oblige. “It’s your joint. Don’t you know the rules? The one who bringeth, smoke..eth.”
“You wanted it badly so I let you take it first.”
“I didn’t want it ‘badly’. I’m not a fucking addict,” You laugh, bellowing out a puff of smoke. “I just thought it’d be a nice bonding moment. Wanna see how you get when you’re high.”
“It’s nothing special. I’m the same as I am now.” He shrugs.
“You mean, ‘a stick in the mud’?”
He bumps you with his shoulder causing you to lay back against the hay.
“You jerk, I just pick all that out of my hair.”
“Serves you right. Now hand me the joint. You’re hogging it,” He tries to reach for it but you raise it above your head. “You’re such a tease.
He attempts to reach for it again, falling on top of you. His full weight on your body is so damn delicious it takes everything in you not to moan. It doesn’t help that the weed has heightened your senses making you feel EVERYTHING. The way his hot breath feels tickling your neck along with the way his curls on his head gently caress your skin as he reaches for the joint. He seems oblivious to the state he leaves you in even after he’s gotten it until he lets out a puff of smoke in the air then looks back down at you once again. It’s evident he can see the darkened lust in your eyes because of the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He suddenly feels so thirsty and it isn’t because of the weed.
Afraid a moment like this will be interrupted once again, you lunge forward attacking his lips. He’s caught fullg by surprise, a strangled moan swallowed up in your frenzied fit of passion. You’re the one controlling the kiss, forcing him to roll on his back so you can grind down on the sizable erection in his jeans. The friction from the fabric of your lace underwear and the rough denim of his jeans are an undefeated combination against your puffy clit, sending flood after flood of your wetness to pool between your legs.
The kisses are sloppy. Your hands are everywhere; in his hair, yanking his shirt for dear life. His hands cup your face before entwining in your hair then they’re around your neck, unable to keep them still because he’d like to feel every part of you just as you wish to do to him. Every so often growls would escape your lips as you grind harder and harder against him.
“Fuck, Eddie, you feel so fucking good.” You whisper desperately into his ear.
“So do you, sugar. Ain’t even inside you yet and I’m already about to blow.” He groans, sweaty forehead pressed against your own.
“Can I fuck you, Mr. Munson?” You plead.
And the whine Eddie lets out confirms that it won’t be happening anytime soon. You look between your bodies, seeing the dark, wet patch on his jeans then back up at him.
He’s obviously embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while.”
“That’s okay. Um, this was…this was really spontaneous.” You don’t immediately get off, wanting more and hoping he’d give you more so that he can make you cum, too.
Instead he grabs you by waist, lifting you off him in a hurry. “I’m sorry. I need to—-this was a mistake.”
And once again, he leaves you to your thoughts. All you could do is stare as he grew smaller and smaller in the distance, while you began to feel smaller and smaller on the inside.
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satoruhour · 8 months
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HE PLAYS BASS !
a/n: modern au bc i cant handle any angst rn. i ramble a lot in this to set the scene teehee. not beta read, gn btw / tagging @crysugu @slttygeto @getousex :3
wc: 3k ish
warnings: bass guitarist!geto, soft dom!geto, he is respectful of your boundaries, both geto and reader smoke weed, shotgun kiss, sexual acts under the influence, fingering, clit stimulation, implied second round, implied cunnilingus, dry humping, praise, n*sfw under the cut
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bass guitarist!geto who has had an interest in music and its instruments since being a little boy, practically begging his parents to enrol him in some guitar classes. with fingers strumming the nylon strings alongside complicated chords on the frets felt so right that since then he and his guitar have been inseparable since.
bass guitarist!geto who gets to know the guitar so well that he masters guitar solo after guitar solo, playing songs by ear in his free time and thought lead guitar was all there was to music until the age of fifteen where he stumbles across a song with a bass line that sounded absolutely heavenly — through the 240p quality of the youtube video, he watched the bassist dish out the heavy beats, always in the background yet detrimental to making the band sound complete.
bass guitarist!geto who leaped at the opportunity to buy a bass guitar with whatever money he had to purchase a Squier bass — it was a little shitty in sound but it was cheap, something affordable for a middle schooler. suguru didn’t care. he perfected the use of his bass guitar, already having the basics down from playing guitar; his room is filled with posters, picks, pieces of displaced lyrics.
bass guitarist!geto only has the chance two years later to ask his new friends if they wanted to jam out together and down the line, if they wanted to form a band. it was a clueless band of boys (with shoko of course) in some room of gojo satoru’s luxury house where his parents don’t care to ask him to keep the noise down like suguru’s parents do.
bass guitarist!geto fights to get a spot to audition for one of tokyo’s biggest music festivals a few months later. if they won they would get more recognition, more support, even if they haven’t figured out the specifics of how to operate a band. with gojo as the singer, shoko on the lead and nanami on drums, they would find out what they had.
bass guitarist!geto who breaks that stereotype of the bassist being ignored throughout a performance. he thinks it could be because of his longer hair and his newly bought gauges, and he thought he didn’t look too shabby himself — although he isn’t surprised to see most of the girls fawn over gojo as he sang lyrics of an original song, courtesy of the joint effort between geto and shoko.
bass guitarist!geto who gives judges the finger after they said they couldn’t perform originals at an audition, blacklisting them for future performances — but gojo sees it as a win when he has a hoard of new fans waiting outside to get a photo with him with autographs that differed from each paper his pen made contact with. later, he bursts out laughing when gojo says he hadn’t even thought of a proper signature yet and just ‘did whatever on their paper’.
bass guitarist!geto whose band gained popularity fast because of everyone’s good looks, singing at that same place they auditioned at, but now with repertoire under their belt. it’s then that they’re already all in university, and yet everyone’s still incredibly passionate.
bass guitarist!geto who spots you in the crowd together with your friends, jamming out to their set, but while your friends’ eyes are locked on gojo who’s loving the attention, nanami who can’t give a shit and shoko who’s too focused on her solo, you manage to draw geto’s eyes to you. he spends the rest of the set locking eyes with you, amidst other things like sending you winks and licking his lips until you’re under his spell. all throughout he doesn’t lose the rhythm, but he does slip-up from time to time and there’s a panicked look that nanami sends to geto for messing up his rhythm.
bass guitarist!geto who sees you at his next show alone, smiling up at him right at the front row while he’s trying not to mess up after the last time. this time he has a chance to show you what he’s got in a bass solo, losing himself in the music until even you fades off and you’re truly seeing the bassist for who he is. he’s easing back into the main melody of the song but not before leaning over the speakers with a knee on the floor, hovering right over you before shoko takes over and he’s back to his heavy beats.
bass guitarist!geto who brushes off the teasing after the set ends, only to be bombarded with more of it when he sees you on campus — no way you’re in the same school as him, walking around with your cute outfits and laughing along to your friend’s joke with no care in the world.
bass guitarist!geto who doesn’t have much trouble charming you into hanging out with him, already recognising him from far away when he’s got his long flowy hair and gauges and tight black shirt and tall stature — you aren’t realising he’s asking you if it’ll be okay for you to head over to his dorm room. you’re getting pushed by your friends behind you to say yes with giggles and gossip, and of course you weren’t going to reject the hot guy you missed class and ditched friends for.
bass guitarist!geto who shows you his room and tells you to let him know if he’s made you uncomfortable in any way. in the background, there’s a faded, soft song that continues to play that really completes the dorm, immediately hitting it off until he starts to roll a joint a while later, offering it to you with a raise of his eyebrow.
“oh— n-no it’s fine, geto-san, i don’t really smoke…” you sheepishly turn down the weed, settling instead to watch him and his beautiful side profile, letting him explain to you about bands and guitar and chords.
“thank you for having me, geto-san,” bowing, you’re nothing like the person in the bar that day, geto thinks it’s the lack of alcohol but he doesn’t mind, simply leaning on the doorframe as he nods down at you. his smile is intoxicating and so goddamn attractive you would’ve buckled to your knees if not for the deep breaths you were taking.
“next time, pretty?” geto smiles, a little high from smoking. his eyes are lidded (they usually are anyway) and smile lopsided. his hair’s almost out of the bun.
“yeah, next time,” it sounded so breathy, you bit your lip. “i guess you’d have to find me on campus, though.”
bass guitarist!geto who mutters how you’re a little tease to himself later when he closes the door. he swears to himself he’d get your number next time, but it’s not difficult to find you the next time, hanging around the same place at the same time. it’s like you wanted him to find you — he’s not opposed to it. it’s a few weeks down the road now, and the second time is watching him curiously as he smokes, too. you take a hit and embarrass yourself completely in front of him though, and while you’re fighting for your life, you’re not opposed to the buzz it gives you.
bass guitarist!geto who’s opening the door to you the next time, surprised to see your dishevelled state and a pillow between your arms, walking almost a block like this to the next building where his dorm was. he offers to make you some tea and you shake your head, feeling a pounding headache already coming on just from explaining that your roommate was an asshole.
“you can sleep here if you want to, okay?” you sigh, thanking him immensely because even after knowing him for such a short period of time, you’re comforted by his presence.
“at least satoru’s not here,” you laugh at that, nodding tiredly before you’re settling on gojo’s bed after insistence from the other. he wouldn’t care, he’s always going back home anyway, don’t know why he wanted to share a room with me. but before you can get settled in, you hear the familiar crinkling of the paper and the click of the lighter and the smell of weed fills the room again.
again, his hand is outstretched, holding an ashtray below him as the tip of joint glows a red, calling out to you yet reminding you of the way you coughed the other night.
you crawl off his roommate’s bed, snatching the cig out of his hand in a way to prove something to yourself before taking a big puff. this time you’re better, letting the drug flow through your system, but tolerance is another thing, because it only takes another hit for you to be smiling drowsily at the other while geto is a little high, too, eyes rolling to the back of his head when your hand traces over his arms and you giggle.
“you w’nna kiss?” geto asks quietly, a little soberly, having talked late into the night while you hang off his arm and slur your words. but now you know you’re feeling a little more sensible when you can feel your heart pound and your eyes widen despite their need to close.
“i meant it, doll. you’re fuckin’ stunning,” suguru mumbles, the coldness of his rings sending a chill down your body, but also a spark to your core, “you look exactly like the day i discovered bass.” and it’s like cupid fully shoots his arrow through your heart — because have you heard the man play? you’re speechless at his point, only mustering a nod before you’re leaning in.
he hums drunkenly as a way to ask you to wait a min, manoeuvring you onto his lap before he’s taking the almost vanishing joint into his hands. two more puffs are perfect for the cigarette to be discarded and so with a gentle hand, he holds onto your nape while he tries not to get hard from having you on his lap. slowly, your lips wrap around the other end of the joint, taking in another influx of the drug before he does too.
bass guitarist!geto who pulls you towards his lips a little roughly but he doesn’t give you what you want (what he has in mind is much, much better), rather leaving his lips ajar as he exhales the smoke from his mouth into yours, your own smoke already dissipating. weirdly, this burn is more prominent, probably because all you can focus on are suguru’s dazed eyes and the way they burn through your skull. you inhale the smoke before you feel his soft lips on yours.
geto hums into your lips, coming off of them periodically to allow the smoke to disperse, but the moment is so intimate and hot that you blow away the smoke and lunge forward to wrap your arms around his neck.
“no more pullin’ away, geto-san…” you’re trailing off, words messily whispered against his lips and you burn at the chuckle he sounds out, muttering back a question of consent. you’re nodding, reeling at the speed at which he places his hands on your thighs, dragging you further up his front until you rested on his pelvis.
“kissing me like you can’t breathe and you’re still calling me by my last name? i’m wounded.” geto pulls away and defies your rule — you think he’s the only one who can do that. pouting, suguru pushes away the hair enclosing your face. “c’mon, drink, sober up a little.”
“...i like it like this,” you murmur, ashamed as to how readily you leaned into his touch. his stare is piercing though, not budging until you’re gulping down half the cup.
“throats turn dry when we smoke, princess. we can do it more when you’re more used to it, alright?” geto explains, patting your thigh and ignoring the tensing of them around his own. he’s trying so hard to act nonchalant, but he can’t get the image of you parting your lips for the smoke out of his head. the way your eyes flutter close, how you wanted more of him.
“alright… suguru,” you sigh out the name and geto wishes he could hear it somewhere else, “but can we—” the high is getting to you, making your hormones go into a frenzy and you’re grinding on his lap. geto hisses at the feeling, of your cunt brushing against his bulge. your hips are inexperienced, but you’re going by feel, drawing little circles and moving back and forth; whatever that brings you pleasure.
“baby— f-fuck…” geto swears when you pair it with the lips tha kiss down his cheek and jaw and neck, hands on your hips guiding you as you try to chase your high. but a whine from you draws geto out of his daze and he almost cums hearing your needy voice, begging him for something, anything.
“’m tired, suguru,”
he knows, grinding is a tiring thing, so rather he opts for you to lie on him with your back to his chest. by now, the room’s filled with the smell of weed and arousal, asking once again if he could take off your pyjama shorts. geto smiles at the lack of underwear but he says nothing, eyes latched onto the strings of juices that connect your pussy to the shorts.
“my baby ready to be touched?” he feels you nod, loving the way your stomach contracts and expands at the hand that travels over your clothed tits. there, he squeezes them, rubbing fingers over the hardened nub but soon creeps towards your centre. his hand and fingers are so much larger than yours, covering your whole core easily when he cups it and the contact is enough to make you mewl.
“hurry,” your hips hump the air.
“patience, darling,” geto’s gravelly voice cuts through to your ear before he finally draws languid circles upon your clit, rubbing and pressing on your bundle of nerves. his whole body burns from seeing you react so cutely, all cause your eyes couldn’t leave his on that stage. now your eyes were rolling up and over, little moans leaving your lips just from his hands.
bass guitarist!geto who seems to know all your pleasure points in one night, kissing the spot under your ear, to talking you through your orgasm. you were enamoured by the guitarist that you’d let him do anything to you, obsessed with the way he never missed questions of “is this okay?” and “tell me to stop”. geto is just as besotted by you, the arch of your back, the call of his name. god, he was going to write so many songs about you.
“think you can handle a finger, baby?” suguru whispers, caressing your twitching thighs from your first orgasm. with a shaky “yes”, geto plays with your hole, smearing your juices around your sex and getting it all on your thighs. the bashful suguruuu! has him laughing, taking your lips into another kiss as an apology.
“sorry, sweetheart. love teasin’ ya,” muffled words are said, “goin’ in.”
your jaw drops even more when geto first inserts a finger, so much wider and longer that a long moan escapes you. the stretch is so good, everything you’ve ever imagined after watching his fingers travel over the bass strings, and you’re already asking for a second finger. when he does oblige, your hands fly to grab at his wrist.
“feel good?” he chuckles at your lack of an answer, rather responding by clenching around his fingers and leaning back more into his hold. geto sets a pace, thrusting his fingers in and out of you. he thinks it’s enough of staring at you and almost gets whiplash when his head turns to his hand — from the way he disappears into your dripping cunt, he thinks he’ll cum untouched, although your desperate hips also would play a part.
“feel s’good, suguru— shit…” geto groans lowly into your ear when he feels your hand replicating the circles he’s made on your clit, juices starting to collect in his palm from how wet you were.
“you keep clenchin’ around me, baby, you w’nna cum?”
your body is more vocal than your voice, twisting and thrashing from how his fingers already feel so good. the haze and the smell of geto suguru and the weed in your system is all overloading on you at the moment, but in between you’re able to nod, fingers rubbing at your clit while geto’s speed picks up a little.
your legs naturally spread, each slap of his palm against your pussy paired with the lewd noises only making the whole thing better. it’s not long before you feel that familiar feeling, using your right hand to direct him to you once more and it’s here you see the man you saw on stage before: focused, flushed, small smirk on his face. “gonna cum.”
“yeah? are you?” geto asks against your lips, still tasting the faint aroma of the joint. your eyes are so heavy and your limbs feel like lead; it’s a wonder how both your hands are moving on your soaking wet pussy.
“yeah, sugu, s’sensitive—!” geto coos softly at your whimpers before capturing your lips, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip and your orgasm comes crashing down on you. suguru effectively swallows your moans, groaning on his own end when he can feel your cum running down his hand. slowly, he lets you ride through your orgasm, pressing pecks on your skin and shoulders.
“attagirl. so much cum, hm?” your chest is heaving, whining when he removes his fingers and there’s a cute little squelch from the juices, gasping softly as geto separates his fingers and there’s strings connecting his middle to ring finger. “dirty girl.”
you scoff softly with a smile, eyes following how his fingers make his way into his mouth. the other only hums before carrying you bridal style to the shower with a sweet smile on his face. geto suguru was certain he’d worship you.
“gotta taste that cute little pussy next time.”
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2K notes · View notes
itsonlydana · 2 months
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"Flower On My Skin" | hobbit
pairing: Thranduil x human fem!reader 👑
Thranduil gets his hair braided and thinks too much.
warnings/tags: bittersweet, more fluff tho, swf, King Thranduil needs a break
words: 1,9k
an: this is a gift for the lovely @tigereyesf who always comments on my posts on ao3 🤍 the lyrics are from Noah Kahans song "Your needs, my needs'
+ masterlist +
🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3
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Thranduil understands that permitting you to be near him might not be wise. It could very well rank among the least advisable decisions he's made in ages.
But he did, he invited you again and again, sending horses and carriages to transport you ever since he found out you traveled all the way from Dale by yourself whenever he sent a letter.
Until he didn't need to anymore.
Not because you wouldn't come, but because you didn't leave.
Never in a million years would anyone have guessed that the stoic Elvenking would invite a human to his palace on more occasions than his own kind and surely no one would have ever thought that he would start courting them.
Yet here he was, sitting in one of his many blooming gardens, swatting away the hand that was currently trying to gather his hair.
"Stop this," Thranduil's stern voice would've had any other shiver in fear of losing their head, though it only makes you giggle.
"Please, let me braid it again," you stable yourself with your hands on his shoulders and lean over, chest pressed against his strong back.
"No, you little nuisance. I shall not! You know of the meeting I will attend later, we do not have the time."
Even though he can't see your face, he knows you roll your eyes at him, he can feel it in the huff you let out before letting go of him. The warmth of your body disappears as you stand up from the bench and throw one challenging look over your shoulder.
Thranduil watches how you lift the skirts of the gown you're wearing, the finest of silks that you've adorned with little handmade bows from the village, and flop down into the grass. There is not one care on your face that the hems will surely stain and that there are perfectly suitable marmor benches all over the garden and only one of those occupied by Thranduil himself.
You seem to ignore them every time you two spend time out here, he noticed you are much more content with your naked feet buried in the high grass and your hair intertwined with the flowers that grow here.
At first, he couldn't understand the fascination you harbored with nature.
Of course, he had a deep appreciation for the forest surrounding his kingdom, the strong resistance of the trees had been an inspiration for the winding halls, the water flowing through the roots and gifting life and the ever so steady wind reminded someone who lived a thousand years that some things, though they change, never completely disappear.
You, on the other hand, could not be separated from nature in any way whatsoever. There had been the flowers, first only on your side of the bed when he'd invited you to sleep next to him, and one day he woke up to find a vase filled with Astilbe flowers on his nightstand and on his vanity as well.
You also spend most of your day either wandering through the woods (which left him restless and worried until you accepted the sword he had his blacksmith forge for you) or meeting him here in the gardens. He would never tell you but before you, he hadn't walked or maker-forbid, sat there for decades.
Now, he found himself soaking sunshine more days than not, reading Elvish poetry to you while you rested curled into his side with one of his hands brushing your hair, or, chasing you on his Elk through the forest, following the sound of your horse and your laughter.
Your infatuation with nature and the stubbornness of pulling him along made him fall for you, deeply and most ardently and he knew that one day he would need to survive the sight of forests and gardens and flowers without the urge to burn them to the ground for outliving you.
As he watches you examine the colorful flowers and gather them in your lap, he isn't sure if he will be able to contain that anger against the gods if the time comes.
You are oblivious to the dark clouds hanging onto his thoughts, he makes sure that you'll never see the heartbreak he lives through while loving you because he knows, he knows that you would do everything in your power to make him happy.
This is who you are, a human that lives and loves and pours all that you are into those around you, he sees it in the gentleness of your hands cupping the flowers before plucking them, in the way your tongue learned a new language for you wouldn't accept not studying it for an answer if you lived here.
You live to love and love to live.
Thranduil shifts, forgetting that there are guards stationed around the gardens who could see their King doing the unthinkable but he doesn't care.
Not with you sitting a few feet away from him, your dress spilled around you, a full smile on your face as you collect the flowers growing there for you, their little heads turning to you as if you are the sun for them as well, and not just for Thranduil.
If you notice him standing up, you give no sign, you don't even stop humming, and the smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth at this stubbornness is far too strong to stop it.
"Melethril nîn," he says quietly and his shadow falls over your body. The symbolism and fear of him taking away the sun from you has him clench his jaw. His pain is impatient as if it doesn't know he's going to live longer than he wants to and that it has all the time to break him down.
He quickly shuts those thoughts away behind the sight of you tipping your head back to smirk at him.
This is not the time to dwell on the future, not if he can exist in the moments he shares with you instead of fearing the time when he'll have to think back on them.
"Don't tell me you missed me," you tease.
He scoffs and –surprising you enough to let out a squeak– lowers himself onto his knees next to you.
Eye to eye, he feels much more comfortable, despite the stains that he knows now graze his robes.
"You know," he starts and lets his gaze wander over the flowers in your lap, however, you managed to collect this many of them in such a short time awes him, "the meeting can wait."
You catch onto the meaning instantly, your eyes lightening up even more. The golden rays of the setting sun reflect in them and he reaches forward to cup your face in the palm of his hand and gently leans towards you, capturing your lips in a long kiss that has you gasping.
"Now," Thranduil swipes his thumb over your lower lip, as you separate, tugging playfully at it and giving into another kiss before he continues, "Have your way with my hair, my love. I know you did not collect those flowers for any other reason."
You gasp ingeniously. "You are by far the wisest Elf I've ever met," you say and scoot –maker, he makes a note to get another dress just like this made because surely this will be ruined by the time you leave the gardens– behind his back.
While you gather his hair in your hands, this time without him trying to stop you but relaxing into the soft tugging, you mumble: "So wise, they should make you King."
He chuckles at that. "Ah, but I would need a Queen by my side. Do you know where one could find on–ahhh," his teasing words get swallowed by a sigh as your fingers collect some fine hairs on the side of his head and surely completely on accident run over the shell of his ear to the delicate tip.
"Ooops," you sing and just as his body calms, you repeat the action, even have the gall to scratch the skin with your nails and he melts into a puddle.
His ears burn, not just the one your breath hits but the other one as well and he can feel the blood shoot into his face as well, crumbling the stoic and straight-laced composure of the King who is already on his knees.
"You witch," he presses out between his clenched teeth and hears you giggle. "I should have never told you about that," he murmurs more to himself, trying to regulate his heart beating inside his chest like a wild rabbit on the loose.
You laugh once, a "Pah!" while you tug on his hair, "You didn't tell me," you say and he feels something get pushed inside the braid you are working on, "I found out all by myself."
Thinking back to the night that started this completely outrageous behavior trait of you fiddling with his ears whenever he doesn't pay you enough attention or he says something that teases you a bit too much, he can't tell if you are right or him.
A few years ago he would have shut you down completely because the King would never be wrong but now he grumbles under his breath, agreeing that you must be correct.
Then again, there are many new things that you brought into his life.
He laughs more freely, and not just out of spite of viciously.
He cares more, for you, for his son, for nature and sometimes even for the dwarfs he trades with.
He is formed by you, shaped by your untamable ways of never letting a rainy day ruin your mood.
He is nothing but wax in your hands.
Here, sitting in the gardens and letting you weave flowers in his precious hair, he is no King, he is just a soul yearning for your touch, a flower reaching to bloom in your golden light.
Thranduil's eyes flutter shut as you braid and weave and run your hands over his scalp and through his hair.
He may have fallen asleep, lulled into a trance by the warm sun caressing his face and your voice humming a melody as sweet as any words that you speak, because when you let go of the delicate braids and let them fall into the rest of his hair, he opens his eyes to a pink and purple sunset.
The birds sing their last song and the trees rustle, shaking their branches and leaves as if they would ready themselves for the animals coming to rest in them.
There is a pleasantly chilled breeze that comes with nightfall, one that brings the smell of flowers and grass.
"There," you press a gentle kiss to the skin right behind his left ear, "all done."
For a moment Thranduil is disappointed that you are finished but then he turns to find your smile and all is right.
"Thank you, meldanya," he says, already closing in to express his gratitude with a soft kiss.
You nudge your nose against his, eyes shut in contentment. "Thank you, for letting me. Le ni meleth," you say quietly.
"Always," Thranduil's gaze wanders over you, bathed in rosé and golden hues, the cheeks flushed from the air, your hair wild and untamed, and flowers all over your lap. He grabs a few of them, inspecting the stems and probing them with his sharp nails.
"Let me repay the favor," he effortlessly lifts you, smiling wide at the laugh bursting out of you as he sets you between his legs and onto his robes.
"I want my Queen to wear a fitting crown."
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anadiasmount · 4 months
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teach me how to forget - jude bellingham x reader.
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summary: this is mostly based on some lyrics from romeo santos songs. a not so girls trip but getting an unexpected call that leaves you thinking… i’ll leave it there *winks*
wc: 2.5k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist
psa 🗣️: was in the mood to write and this was a request i had received so anon here you go :p i love toxic jude and i shall write what the girlies want :ppppo
This time of year was a time filled with love and warmth. The Christmas lights, the decorations, the hot cocoa, the feeling of giving back, the feeling of security. While those thoughts remained in your head, you were constantly reminded how single and lonely you were, especially when you decided to take a trip with your girlfriends and their partners. 
They laughed, rejoiced, hugged, smiled, and had that look of love every time they stared at them, you felt left out and felt the urge to have what they have. It wasn't jealousy or anger, you felt more than happy for them, but now the idea of love began to make you mad. You had given everything to him, and you would do it again only under different circumstances. 
It was your first serious relationship, well you thought, after the last one you had in high school. Serious as in you thought it would be the man you’d marry. The day every little girl wished for, though when growing up you hated it, why give so much commitment? But unexpectedly with his lies and broken promises, he changed your opinion about marriage. He changed your opinion about love.
You once looked at him with adoration in his eyes, hugged his bicep in public to send a message to others, kissed his cheek first and then his lips when he visited you or saw him after some time apart, you would giggle at night when talking about your futures together, the warm feeling inside never leaving your chest as he held you close to him. The way his soft brown eyes bore into yours when he left you. 
But he was never yours, there wasn't ever a label or words said to claim him as yours.
You poured your heart to him, asking him, you needed to know the why, to get rid of the heavy and painful feeling in your heart, that felt like it was being stabbed each minute that passed by. Couldn't he see it? Why was it so hard for him to see how much you were willing and had already sacrificed to be with him? Was the love you gave him ever enough, all the kisses, cries, laughter? 
For the first time in your life, you felt something real, a love like in the movies, yet this was actuality. No more good night calls or texts, cuddles, sharing a bathroom to get ready, or his big t-shirts, exchanging looks across the room which ended in the two of you going home, or kisses knowing that they were forbidden. In the end, whatever happened it happened for a reason. 
As much as it hurt and brought misery, you were able to reconstruct yourself. You tried to convince yourself this would be a lesson for the future, a lesson that was learned the hard way as not only you lost your best friend but also your first love. Love can be cruel and painful, but in the end, it brings two souls together that are meant to be. 
“Are you good babes? You look uncomfortable,” your friend joked, earning a small laugh from you. “I'm okay, just feeling very much like a third wheel,” you said honestly and shrugged your shoulders. This trip was planned at the last minute, a girls' trip to be said, but that changed when their partner tagged along, as it was conveniently their only time off from work. 
While it angered you and almost made you not come, you realized they also needed this with them, you couldn't be that careless and selfish, though you would keep it in mind for next time. You also had wasted your money on the trip so there was no backing out, you needed a deserved break from your busy life in Spain. 
“I promise tonight is our night. They guys are going to fish overnight by the bay so we can head to the club and drink till there’s no tomorrow,” she said cheerfully, giving you a side hug before standing up and walking over to the closet where your clothes hung. “How is it going with that guy Joel?” she questioned pulling out a couple of outfits for you. 
You grimaced and shook your head, “I don't see him like that… he’s amazing don’t get me wrong, but he’s kinda boring? I don’t know, he is marrying for image and I want something way different. The dates were fun but in the end, he’s looking for one thing and I don’t want that, you know?” you explained while fidgeting with your rings that suddenly felt loose. 
“But at the same time, when I'm with him, all I can feel is happiness. When he isn't being cocky or serious he treats me well, buys me flowers, and showers me with love. I feel like it feels so wrong, but at the same time, he is always there for me. He has seen me at my worst and hasn't once judged me for it.”
Your friend raised her brow and handed you a tight navy blue dress, “I understand, just have fun. You're single, sexy, an amazing woman, and independent. When the time is right, that person will appear,” she kissed your head and urged you to change. “I expect you to be the drunkest, don't think of him, he isn't worth your tears pretty.” 
With that she walked off, leaving you standing still, was she referring to Joel or Jude? She was right, no feelings could change the new ones you felt. 
It ended up being the complete opposite, your friends were all drunk and sang loudly to an old rock song, while you laughed and took small sips from your third cranberry vodka. You would join in at times, but their wobbly bodies made it hard as they would cling to you for support. The drunk selfies and videos you all took made them giggle as you all took a ride back home. 
Jude saw it all. He was watching but from his home in Spain. He felt the cold and empty space next to him. He realized it was becoming too much for him, and he had to do something about it. But he always held back knowing it wasn't fair on your part. You deserved to be happy after all the pain he caused. But knowing he fully hasn't apologized was killing him. Or the fact the picture of you laughing with another man built a rubble of jealousy in his chest.
His thumbs always found their way to your contact, where he had your name next to a white heart, and the contact picture he took when you accompanied him to Germany. It all felt so familiar to him, reminding him of the good times you’d spent together, whether it was in his home, the beloved coffee shop, or the bookstore in downtown London you love dearly. Your smile, the personality he envied because you were perfect, so pure, your eyes that said the truth, and hands that built warmth when he held or felt them. 
He missed you terribly, longing to hear your voice or see you even if it was for a second. He caved in and dialed you, coming face to face with your smile that shined bright as he heard the phone dial.
“If you need anything please let me know,” you said to your friend, who drunkenly fell asleep on her bed. You quickly showered and changed into your pajamas, putting your hair into a messy bun and laying down on the queen-sized bed. You scrolled through the TV and ate your salty crisps. You hadn't heard your phone ring, but when you saw two missed calls from his number you let out a huge gasp and sat upright. 
Your hand dragged across your forehead, the familiar feeling of fear and uneasiness hitting you again in a huge wave. You bit your nails and dropped your phone taking a huge gulp of water as your throat became dry. 
Hey. I called and you didn't answer. Can you call? 
Give me a second, is everything okay?
No. I’d like to talk to you about something. Please just answer. 
Why would he call? What was so important that made him call you twice and send you a message? You soon would find out as you heard your phone buzz again. Your heart raced again, banging loudly in your chest, everything in the room around you was bright and colourful, the cold sheets now hot, the crisps being hard to swallow, and the vibration of your phone reminding you he was waiting. 
“H-h-hello?” you said shaky, hearing the relief on the other end. Jude on the other end felt nervous, his airpods put away as he brought his phone closer to his ear to hear your voice clearer, to feel you. “Y/n hi. Hi, uh, hi…” Jude chuckled anxiously, biting his lip, forgetting why he even called. “Did you need something?” you said in a low voice, whispering almost, as you muted the TV. 
“I wanted to know something…” 
“Which is?”
“I wanted to know if you remember our trip to Munich after the season ended last year,” he said slowly, voice deeper than what you were used to. How could you forget that trip? Were you kissed for the first time and promised to be at each other's side no matter what went on? A deal is a deal, a promise is a promise, but you weren't sure why he was recalling this exact moment. “What are you trying to get at?” you said instead of responding to his question. 
“Answer the question… Do you remember the trip and what happened?” he asked again, leaving you confused and tugging your sheets up. “Yes. Of course, I remember,” you caved in, shutting your eyes, and attempting to calm your nerves. “And what did we promise, that we’d be there for each other, no?” he said. 
“Things changed Jude. You changed things when you decided to leave and walk out. I can't promise you that, because what you did in the end was break them. You want me to be there for you? What about that time I begged for you to stay so we could work it out, and you did the opposite? To give you that promise I would have to trust your word again…” you deadpanned seriously, feeling the bubble of anger construct in your chest, your knuckles white as you control the feeling. 
“You can't trust me?” Jude said softly and hurt. He knew he had hurt you, but for you to tell it and show it to his face was the least thing he expected. “No? How could I, when in the end you proved me wrong?” you said, but Jude had caught you when you didn't voice it, the no being a question instead of an answer. If he was there with you, your eyes would tell him the truth. 
“Are you happy with him? Does he know how much I consider him my enemy for having what belonged to me, even if the one to blame is me? That I envy him for being able to make you smile even the slightest bit when it should be me?” Jude says, leaving you dumbfounded before realizing why he called. “I'm tired of your silly games. You couldn't maintain a serious thing with me, and you have the nerve to call me about-”
“I saw you laugh, I saw you cry. I lived next to you. The best and worst chapters of our novel. From our history. If you taught me to love, also teach me to forget what I feel because you are the woman I love and want. I learned to love beside you, you taught me to love, but you didn't teach me what was harmful, that love was harmful…” he said breathlessly, your chest rising up and down as he confessed his pure feelings. 
“Jude-” 
“I love you so much that I'm afraid to see you again. I only relive those old memories where you'd sit on my bed, a warm cup of coffee in your hand as you watched your soap operas. I still read your love letters, in the hope that one day you’ll come back to me. Who will heal this pain that you left inside me when you went away? Whoever invented love, should have given instructions to avoid suffering,” you couldn't believe what you were hearing. 
The tears coming down your cheeks, and your hand covering your mouth to hide the loud sobs. He heard them, as a tear glided on his cheek wanting nothing more than to be there with you. But the same distance that separated the two of you, was the same reason he couldn't hold or have you anymore. 
“Why tell me this now? Tell me you love me but showed otherwise. You say I taught you how to love, and hope one day I'll come back? Where was this when I needed to hear when I begged you, Jude? I probably looked stupid confessing my feelings while all this time you hid yours away. You weren't ready, I get that, but it's too late. I learned and I lost, and I can't go down that road with you again,” you croaked, sniffling and whipping the tears away. 
“If you think I have replaced you, I haven't. As much as he makes me happy, you ruined that for me. I constantly picture you instead of him. I feel like a coward for leading on a good man, knowing that what I feel won't ever be enough or fair to him. I've tried Jude, i've tried to forget you without holding a grudge, but it's so hard when I love you this deeply,” you let out crying, yours and Jude’s heartbreaking every second that passed by. 
Jude couldn't stand it, the silence was killing him, suddenly spoke out and poured his heart out to you, your gut wrenching hearing him at the way he felt over the months that passed by. Pain clawed your hearts, chests heaving as you could feel the soulmate connection even from afar. His voice brings you a sense of calmness and relief. He felt the familiar feeling of home when he heard you laugh, slowly coming out of your protective shelf. 
“Without you, my life leads nowhere. But I took you for granted, and now I'm hanging from a rope. I know that you know I'll do whatever for your love, so tell me what I can do to call you mine again, baby?” Jude’s voice cracked, the pleading in his voice showing raw emotion.
“Come to me. I need you to prove your love to me and that it isn't for games.”
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cinememed · 4 months
Text
₍ 📻 ₎   the mountain goats lyrics  rp  starters  ! featuring violence, explicit language + subject matters & mature topics . some lines have been slightly adjusted for rp purposes .
let him who thinks he knows no fear look well upon my face.
bring your heroes, watch them all get crushed.
everybody's got their limits. nobody's found mine.
some things you will remember. some things stay sweet forever.
i can see the future, it's a real dark place.
who will mop up all the blood?
there's no promise sweeter than a blood pact.
i'm as happy as i'm ever gonna be. you're by my side.
wrap this around your head. don't let anyone see that you're bleeding.
if you can't beat them, make them bleed like pigs.
and i am coming home to you with my own blood in my mouth.
every moment leads towards its own sad end.
i am coming home to you, if it's the last thing that i do.
i am this great unstable mass of blood and foam.
i think i hear angels in my ears.
some days i don't miss my family. some days i do.
lend me your hand. let me look in your eyes.
when i try to open up to you, i get completely lost.
some days i think i'd feel better if i tried harder.
i woke up afraid of my own shadow. like genuinely afraid.
keep your head low. try to leave no traces when you go.
don't even question your senses, you can be sure it's me.
it was their love you wanted, not mine.
you know and i know, everyone knows it. i'm the one.
i may have failed you once before. but this means war.
the best you've got is powerless against me.
please don't send me back to where i came from.
you're going to do what you want, no matter what i ask of you.
all your little schemes break when they come crashing up against me.
what did i come down here for? you.
i've got you. you've got whatever's left of me.
i hope you blink before i do.
i hope you die. i hope we both die 
i want to say i'm sorry for stuff i haven't done yet.
would you look at that? we're throwing off sparks.
what will i do when i don't have you to hold onto in the dark?
i don't know why it's gotten harder to keep myself away.
i saw the future in a dream last night. there's nothing in it.
somebody's gonna get hurt. i hope it's not me.
i couldn't help myself. i don't know what i need.
i hope the bad guys win. i hope the good guys get their skulls bashed in.
i waited here all by myself.
down there in the dark i could see the real truth about myself.
when you came in, i could breathe again.
you're the last, best thing i've got.
some things you'll do for money, and some you'll do for fun.
the things you do for love are gonna come back to you one by one.
it's not nice to try to kill the same thing twice.
i used to love you so much i was sure it would kill me.
i want you the way you were.
we can leave a nasty mark when we're gone.
i know you don't want me to hurt you tonight.
i don't want you to hurt me the way you do.
i am right here where you want me.
the stars would come out of hiding for you. and i would too.
i will do what you ask me to, because of how i feel about you.
you have questions only a masochist would ask.
your bright eyes are gonna kill me for sure.
nobody is innocent here. i've got more blood on my hands than you do.
you've done something awful. i've done something worse.
you can stand up, or you can run.
we both know know what you've done.
some things you do just to see how bad they'll make you feel.
we both know you're leaving. you just don't want to say it yet.
i've got no good reasons left not to let down my guard.
you were warm. that's all i remember.
i feel guilty, but i can't feel ashamed.
hang on to your dreams until someone beats them out of you.
when the time comes to loosen your grip, you'll know.
you found my breaking point. congratulations.
nobody gets away. even the best of us come back someday.
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xdjville · 22 days
Text
wayv and their own love languages
pairing: wayv x gn!reader
cw: mentions of sex in winwin's (only in words, no descriptions), yangyang (half)jokingly being a hater in xiaojun's, proof read but i'm tired
author's note: i had to physically stop myself from getting carried away with kun's so it wouldn't end up twice as long as the others man i love him
♡ kun
quality time
if it wasn't for kun being so busy, he would literally be glued to you at the hip. only with you around he's able to truly relax, you're like a power outlet that he can use to charge his battery. what you're doing doesn't really matter to him that much, he will enjoy anything as long as you're there, but the slow, quiet moments when you're both in your own worlds have to be the ones he cherishes the most. of course, he loves going out with you and having a blast too, but something about those occasions brings him a sense of domesticity and really lets him unwind. like when you're both in his studio - him at the desk, composing or working on lyrics, while you're on the couch in the back with your laptop, focused on your own tasks, the silence being broken only the few times that kun asks about your opinion on whatever he came up with, or when you stand up to get a drink and place a kiss on his cheek as you walk by. or it could be him cooking dinner for the two of you, showing off his skills as you sit on the counter, humming quietly to his playlist playing in the background. every now and then he'd turn around to give you a piece of the food he's making for a taste test, repaying each good idea of how to improve the dish with a kiss.
♡ ten
thinking about you
ten is pretty much thinking about you every second that he's awake (and sometimes in his dreams, too), he's never not thinking about you. he often gets reminded of you by random things, whether because he thinks there's a visual resemblance (he then usually sends you a photo and a "you lol"), because it's something you like, or because it's somehow connected to a shared memory of yours. he brings you up in conversations a lot too, to the point where some of his friends seem to know you quite well without having actually met you. when he's travelling, he always takes many photos to send you along with voice messages about how his day went, and buys souvenirs or little trinkets to gift you when he's back. on the rare occasion when he's grocery shopping on his own, he makes it his mission to find all of your favorite snacks, which more often than not gets him distracted from the list you had put together for him, so you end up with a bunch of candy and no dinner (which is exactly why him shopping alone is a rare occurance). he also really likes putting together playlists with songs that remind him of you, some of them he'll send and give you access to, but there's also a few he made private which he listens to on days when the longing feels worse that usual.
♡ winwin
"i love you"
to most, it might seem like not that big of a deal, but to winwin those three words hold more meaning than all other existing ones combined. a meaning that's so important and valuable, binding even, that he uses them carefully and scarcelly in order to not abuse them. for most of his life they were reserved only for the closest family members, then, although in a different sense, also for his fans. saying them romantically for the first time was a whole new sesantion to him, and to be honest it still feels a bit foreign and uncomfortable. not because he doesn't love you, that he sure does and he makes sure to show that in other ways, but actually saying it out loud just makes him feel so bare and out in the open. hence his "i love you"s are usually muttered into the crook of your neck when you're pressed together after making love, breathed against your lips when he breaks the kiss only for a second so you can't see his face gaining more color than it already had, or whispered into your ear as he gently strokes the back of your head, your tears soaking into his sweater.
♡ xiaojun
sharing
xiaojun doesn't really do this purposefully, as a way to show his affection, it's just that the concept of "mine" and "yours" genuinely doesn't exist in his mind when it comes to you. want a bite of his food? it's yours as much as it's his. out of moisturiser? you probably use the same brand anyways. really like that one hoodie of his? might as well have been yours in the first place. he never expect the same behavior in return, he's totally fine if you value your privacy and he makes sure that you understand each other boundaries, but he never lets go of that "what's mine is yours" mindset either way. xiaojun really enjoys showing you off ("shoving your relationship into people's faces", as one german boy likes to call it), so you wearing his clothes or jewelry is his absolute favorite thing ever. he then stares at you with heart-shaped, sparkly eyes, a wide, lovesick grin on his face, and the tips of his ears burning red (to the german boy's disgust).
♡ hendery
being vulnerable with you
very few people get to see the other side of hendery than the cheerful, quirky self that he usually is. the side that's exhausted and afraid, that pains and ugly cries. a lot of doors have to opened to reach it, but he trusts you more than anything and anyone, ever. he doesn't think he could be any more real and unfiltered as he is with you, it's almost like it's more comfortable than when he's all alone. when you're there, he can just let everything go and express his feelings in a way that's most true to himself, without faking or conceiling anything. all those nights he spent crying because of his past, present, and future, because of his fears and scars and sorrows, you've been there for him. and although in the morning when you're tangled in your sheets with puffy faces and dry skin either of you knows better than to mention whatever was said that night, he's truly, deeply grateful, and each time he makes a promise to himself that one day he'll tell you that.
♡ yangyang
kissing
yangyang's nothing if not a kiss person. it's his favorite thing in the whole world, to be able to just connect your lips until he forgets his own name because yours is all he can think about. little pecks, french kisses, make out sessions, spiderman kisses - you name it, he loves all of them and they're all his favorites, as long as it's you who's on the other end. you often try to push him away because you just ate something with garlic, or because you have yet to brush your teeth in the morning, but none of that really matters to him. in fact, he cherishes every sensation that comes with it, be it a taste of what you ate, the feeling of your dry lips when you forget to put on chapstick, or a string of saliva that keeps you connected after you pull away - god, that one makes him go weak in the knees. he especially likes when you take the initiative, it makes him feel loved and all warm inside (he would never admit that though). and if you lead the kiss, maybe a bit riled up from something happening at work or because you've missed him? oh, he's a goner.
©xdjville
taglist ➼♡ @bambisnc
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alastor-simp · 7 months
Text
Vice Dorm Leaders + Ruggie & Floyd with a reader who sings like the Japanese singer, "Ado"
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🍀Trey Clover
-Trey enjoys listening to music especially when he is baking in the Heartslabyul kitchen. He doesn't really have any favorite music genre, as he just listens to whatever is playing or whatever Cater sends him. He had no idea you could sing so well until he heard you singing softly next to him when you were helping him bake tarts for Riddle. "Wow Prefect, you never told me you could sing so well. Its very nice." After your baking session, Trey learned about your video channel and listened to all of your songs in about a week. He knows it must be a lot of work to be a very popular singer, so whenever he has time, he bakes sweet treats for you and brews you tea to soothe your throat. His favorite song of yours is "Eien No Akuruhi" , he loves how it expresses the theme of falling in love.
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🍩Ruggie Bucchi
-Ruggie is not really focused on social media and all that other stuff, as his mind is occupied with donuts and making some money. He discovered your talent when he came to the botanical gardens to wake up Leona, until he saw the both of you there, with Leona laying on your lap and you singing a lullaby to him. You stopped singing when you heard Ruggies famous "Shishishi" laugh, and saw him walking closer to you, then lay down on the grass next to you, arms wrapped behind his head and a cheeky smile on his face. He told you he came to get Leona, but he changed his mind and told you to continue. Great job! You got a cute hyena boy as your official cheerleader, as he would always pop into your recording sessions, quietly cheering you on and dancing to the beat. His favorite song of yours is "Odo", he thinks the beat is crazy and loves how energetic it is.
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🍄Jade Leech
"Oh my, you seem to very talented, Prefect-san." Jade is always interested in the unknown, so he was very elated to discover you could sing without him knowing and that he found out without using his unique spell. He happened to hear your beautiful voice, when he was serving customers at Mostro Lounge and heard you at one of the far tables in the back, humming some lyrics, while writing some words on a notepad, most likely coming up with ideas for another song. Once you realized Jade was next to you, you greeted him and thanked him for the drink he made. Jade gave you his best gentlemen smile and said it was a pleasure, but before he left, he walked closer and leaned against your ear, whispering "You have the voice of a siren, Prefect. I wouldn't mind listening to you more, in private, of course." Chuckling, he walked away to finish his duties, leaving behind a flustered you. His favorite song of yours is "Love ka?", he loves the oceanic vibe of the song and how slightly twisted the song is.
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🦐Floyd Leech
-If there is one thing to know about Floyd, is that he loves music. Music is his best subject at NRC, and he is a very talented dancer as well. He came to discover your singing, when he was training in the gym for an upcoming basketball tournament, and noticed you sitting at one of the bleachers, with headphones in yours ears and you quietly singing. Giggling to himself, he slowly came up behind you and lunged towards you in a bear hug, making you jump in fright. "Ehe~ Koebi-chan~, you're amazing", Floyd squeezed you tighter, super happy that he learned something new about you. After he let you go, you told him about your channel, but before you could talk more about it, he had already taken his phone out and subscribed. Floyd was a very chaotic supporter, as he often spammed the comments section with silly phrases and happened to squeeze you in happiness whenever you uploaded a new video, but you found his support sweet nonetheless. His favorite song of yours is "Rebellion" , he likes how its about breaking free and how he relates to it as he is a slight delinquent/rebel himself.
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🐍Jamil Viper
-Jamil was a man of many talents even though he tends to hide them from others around him, but despite being skilled in cooking and basketball, he also happens to have a great singing voice and amazing dancing skills. He happened to discover your singing talent from Kalim, as Kalim was enthusiastically jumping up and down in joy, telling Jamil about your singing voice and that a celebration should be held. Jamil was annoyed that he had to prepare for another celebration again, but he was interested in your singing voice and wanted to learn more about it. He did come to wonder why you don't show your face in your songs like most other singers, but once he found out that is what you preferred to do, then he wouldn’t question you further. His favorite song of yours is "I'm Invincible" , he likes how describes the feeling of being confident and achieving their dreams.
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🏹Rook Hunt
-"Oh la la! Your singing is merveilleuse, Trickster!" Rook hunt is a very interesting fellow, he is very poetic and loves to express his joy for findings things beautiful, but he tends to become a bit stalker-ish, when he finds a person very interesting. Well, enjoy being stalked around by this hunter, he is going to be following you 24/7. He is the definition of an obsessive fan, just minus the craziness. Vil has noticed that Rook has become a huge fan of your talent, but he rather it be you then Neige LeBlanche, yet he does tell Rook to suppress some of his antics as he can imagine how much stress it may cause you. Rook is always present whenever you are singing/recording for a new music video, swooning over your voice and holding up signs that say "BEAUTE! 100 POINTS!" It's very hard for Rook to chose a favorite song since he adores every one of them, but he does tend to listen to "Yoru No Pierrot" more out of the others. He loves the colorful animation of the video
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🦇Lilia Vanrouge
-Lilia is very up to date with the latest trends and is the most knowledgeable about pop culture, like Cater. He is very talented in the music field himself, as he is shown to have a very beautiful singing voice and is part of the Pop Music Club with Kalim and Cater. He was on his way to his club room, when he heard the sound of singing nearby and went to go explore. He saw you in one of the empty classrooms, sitting on top of the desks, singing to yourself. While in the middle of your singing, Lilia had appeared above you, and gave you quite a scare. "Kufufu, your singing is quite lovely," Lilia said as he placed a hand on your cheek, while still staying upside down. Blushing, you thanked Lilia and he asked if you would be interested in joining his club. Before you could give your answer, Lilia had already dragged you out of the room and ran towards his club room. Lilia was happy to found out you had a channel on Magitube, and became your second biggest fan as Idia had already won the title of number one. Lilia was the most understanding of you not revealing yourself in your MV's , as he believes that you are already expressing yourself enough with your voice, and that it shouldn't matter whether you show your face or not. You did mention wanting to collaborate with his band, and make a song together, to help them gain some popularity. Once you told Lilia that, he was overjoyed. His favorite song of yours is "Tot Musica" , he can't get enough of how powerful your voice is and how intense the lyrics are.
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credit to Japanese singer, Ado
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lowkeyrobin · 20 days
Note
mcyts with a music artist partner? more specifically a singer/drummer but whatever works best would be neat !!
ooooo I like all these musically inclined readers I'm getting [does the evil villain finger laugh] ; I tried to do 50/50 with both singer and drummer so djsnnsnss ; rlly couldn't think of any new ideas for more people so I'm sorry LMAO
MCYT ; singer/drummer reader
includes ; tommyinnit, tubbo, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu & quackity
warnings ; language
masterlist
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TOMMYINNIT
constantly brags about you being in a band, even though you're the drummer and most drummers are very overlooked
he's your biggest fan, no one will be able to top him
he'll post clips and basically make a scenepack of you doing your thing during gigs to influence people editing you and give you some attention
your band already has a couple thousand fans on top of the monthly listeners and followers, and people were already starting to edit with your music/your performances
he'll constantly post pictures of you behind your drum setup, he thinks its so badass
you guys have that moment where he basically sits on your lap (/ns) and you hold his wrists to show him certain chords and shit
"what's the stuff around your fingers for?"
"prevents strain in my hands and protects jammed knuckles"
"ohhhhhh. keep doing that. it's healthy and badass"
TUBBO
you're the voice he needs to go with his amazing dj bangers or his piano drabbles
if you sing along to a song he'll instantly notice and only tune into you and not the song
constantly promoting you, always playing your music on stream and sending out tweets when you drop a new song
he helps you with new songs and helps with ideas for them
loves taking videos of you at gigs like he's at a concert
he'll never miss a gig for the life of him, if he has to, he'll watch you through a livestream set up on your phone, trusted by a friend
he'll pop it up on screen and be quiet as possible to let the viewers listen to you
music videos? he's on it
he's in nearly every single music video or at least behind the camera
loves making you mv thumbnails as well to match the whole album aesthetic
he's your number one fan and no one can beat him, he can sing along word for word bar for bar, each and every song
RANBOO
totally infatuated with the fact you're a singer
"look at my famous partner guys, go show them some love please, their music is so good"
they will be at every single gig, recording you like it's a concert
plays your music on stream all the time
listens to your music religiously, whether it be traveling or cleaning the house
loves looking at fanart where you're like singing to him in the crowd and he obviously sticks out like a sore thumb
you guys karaoke your music on stream all the time
if you make heavier music/scream a lot in it, he goes silent for you to do all that LMFAO
will break out the GarageBand to make you beats so you can on site make up lyrics like a rapper BAHAHAH
FREDDIE BADLINU
finds it so cool you can play drums
sometimes he'll sit down with you while you're practicing and play guitar behind you while you can't hear
yk like the drumset charlie spring has? you got one of those now, that way you can play without making a ton of noise, especially while he's sleeping or streaming
loves putting stickers on your cymbals and your bass drum
loves taking pictures of you with finger tape on to just stare at later
constantly brags about you being in a band and always listens to your music
even uses your music in videos and stuff
in the desc he'll put a little "my partners band ____ is playing in the background, go check them out!"
thinks you're so badass for playing drums LMAO
he also tries to play them while you guide his hands
cutie patootie
NIKI NIHACHU
thinks you're so fucking cool
will always record you at gigs
and loves putting finger tape on for you
changes her insta bio to "claimed by a bitch who plays drums 🙏🙏" or something like that
you learn how to cover some of her favorite songs and she's literally so excited
your band make pins or lanyards or any sort of merch? it's all sold out now, she's bought it all
will play your music on stream and shout out the name and leave link to the merch store at any given chance
always reposting fanart she sees of you/you two together
especially if it's you on your drums playing for her
ALEX QUACKITY
you're the voice to his guitar because he's too shy to show off his true singing voice
(the I got a feeling that tonight we are getting 2 subs clip)
obsessed with your voice
also records you at gigs
if he's at the barrier you'll constantly wave to him or wink at him, etc etc
all to make him flustered 💪💪💪
will constantly plug your band and always wears your merch
hypes you up if you're having writers block with lyrics or are having one of those days where you feel like you don't sound good
if you're singing along to a song, he'll tune in only to your voice and not the song at all
simp
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justmeinadaze · 1 year
Text
Pushing the Barrier Part 3 (Eddie X Reader) 
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A/N: Like you guys I am extremely invested in their story. My brain has been all over the place so please excuse any grammatical errors. Holiday seasons are always harder for me. I love you guys and your thoughts on this story. I read them all <3
Warnings: I don't want reveal too much and spoil things but still got stripper Eddie here. He does talk and break down in great detail his trauma and the things he deals with. :(. Word Count: 3967
You slipped out of his apartment early in the morning while Eddie was still sleeping. You couldn’t sleep at all. The entire cab ride to your apartment you thought about last night. Everything about Eddie and the way he made you feel was amazing. That look in his eyes and the tone in his voice though remained front and center in your brain. 
“I’m waiting for you.”
No matter what, you would end up hurting him. Hell, you were hurting him now. You were married to someone else. Your last name was someone elses. You did not belong to Eddie. Yes, your husband was an asshole but he was a good man once, right? Why else did you marry him?
“Excuse me, can you take me here instead please?”
You gave the cab driver the address as he swiveled around. 
#############
When you walk into your husband’s office, his head is buried in paperwork. His eyes flick up towards you as you enter but he doesn’t move to greet you. 
“Must have had a good time last night. You didn’t come home.”
“I stayed with a friend.” He answered with a sarcastic hm. “What did you expect? You yelled at me and said I looked like a whore.” Your husband exhaled as he leaned back in his gigantic chair. “Honestly, I’m surprised you even noticed I didn’t come home. You’re never there.”
“Here we go again. Look—”
You raise your hand to silence him. “Please. I… I’m your wife. I miss you, honey. Don’t you miss me when you’re here?” His eyes softened as he watched you speak. “Do you remember our first date? We stayed out all night walking around the city and just talked till the sun came up.” You both chuckle at the memory. “I miss that. I miss how we used to be. I’m so sick of being alone.”
You husband rose and walked to your side of his desk, leaning down on his knees to get to your level. “I miss you to, baby. I know I’ve been really busy here. I’m trying to make it to where soon I won’t have to work so hard. I promise I’ll do better, sweetheart.” 
Eddie flashed in your head at the name and you tried to shake the image. You craned your neck, planting your lips on his. “Ok, I trust you. I love you.”
“I love you to, baby.”
###################
“Hello?” You answer the phone and are surprised when Mira’s lyrical voice comes through. 
“Hey mama. It’s been a couple of weeks since you’ve come by. Is everything ok?”
“Yes? Do you do this check up with everyone who stops showing up?” You try to keep your voice low so your husband doesn’t wonder who you’re talking to. It was a Saturday and to your surprise he was actually trying to make good on his promise. You two had been watching television when the phone rang. 
“No, baby. I actually have a favor to ask. Can you come by and see Eddie?”
Your heart dropped to your stomach. “Wha…I…um…”
“I don’t ask questions. I told you; we pride ourselves on privacy so I don’t know what happened between you two but since you stopped showing up his entire attitude has changed. He’s a lot more feisty than normal. I actually had to give out a refund for a client experience and send him home the other day. He’s a good man but if this keeps up I may have to fire him.”
“No! Mira, don’t do that.”
“He’s working a short shift today. I don’t have anyone booked for him and I won’t even charge you for this little counseling session. Just please, get his mind right.”
You sigh as you hang up the phone. 
“Who was that?”, your husband asks as you head back towards him. 
“One of my friends needing a pick me up. Her boyfriend broke up with her.”
“Oh no. Well, baby, you should go check on her. Bring some of the hard stuff.”, he points toward your liquor cabinet. 
You climb into his lap and kiss him on the forehead making him chuckle. “I’ll be right back.”
#################
You feel extremely nervous as you open the door to Eddie’s room. When your eyes land on him your heart breaks in half. While he still looks handsome in his jeans and Metallica shirt, his eyes look worn as if he hasn’t slept in days. His head was leaning against his fingers as they pressed into his temple. He stared into his own reflection angrily. 
“Hey Eddie.”
His eyes widened as he quickly got to his feet and marched toward the glass in front of him. 
“Turn this fucking thing off NOW.” When you don’t respond or do what he asks he slams his palm into the glass causing you to jump. “You snuck out of my apartment. No note or anyway to reach you. You disappear for two weeks. I think I earned the right to see your face. Unless you’re too much of a fucking coward.”
He laughs to himself as he sits back down. “God damn, Sweetheart. What the fuck was I thinking? I guess we both had each other pegged wrong, huh? I thought you were different but, nope, you’re just like everyone else. I’m surprised you didn’t leave some money on my nightstand before you left.”
“Eddie, please. That’s not what this was.”
“Then what was it!?”
“I really do care about you but I owe it to the man I married to try.”
“Y/N, what the fuck are you talking about? He doesn’t give a fuck about you. With everything you’ve told me what makes you think this time is going to be any different?!”
“Eddie, you don’t know me or my relationship! He was a good man once and he really has been trying.”
“Oh yeah? Then why are you back here with me?”
“Because Mira told me that she was going to fire you if you didn’t get your shit together!”
He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Eddie, you can’t afford to lose this job.”
His eyes angrily turned towards the front of the cube. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to pretend like you care about my well-being. Just get the fuck out of here and go back to your ‘blissful’ marriage.”
You flick the switch, turning off the two-way mirror and meet his fury filled stare. “I’m doing this because I care, Eddie.”
“Naw, baby. You’re doing this because you care about you. I should have known better. Selfish just like everyone else who enters my life.”
“I don’t want you to wait for me.” His head turns abruptly at your words. “I can’t have you waiting for me. It’s not fair to you.” You hug your arms around you. “You deserve to be with someone who puts you first.”
“So do you…” He sighs before you notice his eyes light up with an idea. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course I do.”
“Can you grab Mira for me?”
Without question you leave the room, grabbing Mira, and bringing her to Eddie. You wait outside in the hallway as the talk. After a few minutes she exits, smiling. 
“Man is crafty; I’ll give him that. This way my dear.” She takes your hand in hers and leads you towards the back of the building but instead of going out the back door, you two pass it looping around to another hallway. Mira digs in her pocket for a set of keys and opens the door in front of her gesturing you inside. “If at any point you feel uncomfortable, you can just open the door and leave. It’s only locked to keep people out, not in.”
When you step inside the lights above you automatically turn on. You glance around taking note of the familiar throne chair and the guitar leaning next to it. Taking a seat, you look in front of you and are met with only your reflection. 
“It’s a bit odd at first, I know.” You glance above you at the sound of Eddie’s voice. “I have to admit, I’ve never been on this side before. It’s kind of empowering.” You smile softly as you stand up and move towards the front of the glass. 
“I thought maybe it might help a bit to put you in my shoes. In the corner there is my jacket. You can put it on if you want to.”
You do put on his leather jacket, inhaling the smell of his cologne. 
“Go ahead, Princess. Take a seat.” Doing as he asks, you sit in the throne again, gazing at your image in the mirror. “Now, picture this. You’re a 20 something year old man from a small town in Indiana. You left your friends and uncle, the only family you care about, behind to move to New York to make something of yourself.”
“What about my parents? Where are they?”
His silence is tearing you apart. You would give anything to just be able to see his face. 
“Your parents don’t talk to you anymore. Your dad is an abusive dickhead who’s in prison for pretty much the rest of his life and your mom surrendered you over to your uncle when you were a kid because she didn’t want to deal with you.”
A tear escaped your eye and you quickly wiped it away. You suddenly hear a soft knock on the glass in front of you and your eyes move towards the sound. 
“You’d been struggling to make ends meet so you do some research and find Mira’s place here. You start doing this gig for strangers and 98% of them you can’t see. Some of them are extremely dirty.” His tone changes to much more gruff, authoritative one. “Take off your pants.”
You look up at the glass, your eyes searching frantically for him. Eddie’s voice comes through a bit more sternly. “I said take off your pants.” You do as your told, rising off the chair and pushing off your jeans, kicking them to the side. 
“Good girl. Keep the shirt and jacket on. You look fucking sexy like that.” You felt your pussy start to drip at his words but something still felt off. It wasn’t the Eddie you had come to know. He wasn’t in front of you with that soft voice, telling you how beautiful you are. This really felt like someone else behind a window that only wanted one thing. 
“Spread your legs open. Atta girl. Move your panties to the side so I can see that pretty cunt.” You did as he asked as his heavy breathing echoed into the cube
“Eddie, please tell me what you’re doing over there.”
“Oh no, Princess. You don’t get to ask me questions. I tell you what to do. Come here, babe. Crawl to the front on your hands and knees for me.” You hear the sound of his grunts as you move towards him. You place your palm against the glass and you can’t see it but he does the same. 
A string of expletives including words like “slut” and “whore” leave his mouth as he pants. You suddenly hear his breathing slow and then nothing but silence. 
You feel yourself start to panic. “Eddie?” You smack the glass. “Eddie, are you still there?!”
“Now, imagine,” you breathe a sigh of relief as he continues in his soft Eddie tone. “One night, this beautiful voice comes through. She just wants to talk to you about things. Mostly about how her husband abandons her at night to fall asleep alone. Sometimes he doesn’t come home and one night when she was feeling particularly beautiful, he told her she looked a whore.”
You feel the anger slowly rise into your chest as your bottom lip begins to tremble. He knocks again a little further to your left so you shuffle towards it, knocking back. 
“This beautiful voice finally allows you to see her face, taste her lips, feel her body. She falls asleep in your bed but then the next morning you wake up and she’s gone. You could try calling her but you don’t have her phone number and Mira won’t give it to you because ‘we pride ourselves on privacy’,” he mimics her voice. “You can’t go to her apartment because you don’t know where she lives. The only place you’ve ever seen her is in there,” Eddie points to the glass, “and at a restaurant. Every day for the next two weeks you check in that restaurant thinking she may show up but she doesn’t. You play your gig at the bar she saw you at praying she may show up looking for you but nope.”
“You sit in that glass confinement for two…weeks… waiting,” Eddie flips the switch and his upset eyes meet your sad ones. “Then she finally shows up and says she owes it to her husband to try because she cares about you.” He tilts his head, watching your face.
“Eddie, I’m… I’m so sorry.”
“Why do you stay with him?”
You shrug as the tears start to fall. “He’s my husband. I—”
“Don’t say that again. Don’t say you owe him. You owe him shit especially with how he treats you. Do you honestly believe he’ll change? You need to leave him.”
 “Would you?! What if the tables were turned?” You stand up and tower over him. “What if I told you this bothered me? You being naked and jacking off in front of people made me angry? What if I said I couldn’t be with someone who does something like this? What if I said ‘Eddie, it’s me or this’? What would you do?” Eddie glares up at you as you yell through the glass and you don’t even wait for an answer. 
“Yeah. That’s what I fucking thought. So don’t you dare stand there and tell me what to do with my life!” You watch was he turns with clenched fists and exits the room slamming the door. “Oh, that’s nice. AND I’M THE FUCKING COWARD!” You scream after him as you repeatedly slam the barrier in front of you.
The door behinds you suddenly opens as Eddie flies through it until he’s in front of you. His hand reaches out to grip your chin, making you look directly at him. 
“I would choose you. I would choose you every fucking time. No questions asked.” His hand released you but his body remained where it was. “If you want to go play house with your husband go ahead. That’s not going to stop me from waiting for you.”
Your jaw tightens as you swallow and Eddie sees it. “Oh yeah? And how many girls have you said that to? How many times have you sat in here and said something that to someone you’re attracted to?”
His face visibly flinches as his chest rises and falls heavily.
“I’m not going to stand here and pretend like I’ve never found other women I’ve seen in here attractive. The ones that have actually allowed me to see them. You, Y/N, are the only person I’ve actually ran after when they walked out of this room. You are the only woman ever since I moved here that I’ve invited to see me play with my band. YOU are the only person on this fucking planet that I would stick around for even though I know I’m her second choice.”
“Eddie, fuck! It’s things like that. You deserve better than being someone ‘second choice’.”
“And so do you. Look, whether it’s work or…something else that man is always putting you second. No matter how you choose to defend it.”
Eddie reaches his hand out to gently caress your cheek with his thumb. “Y/N, you were just gone.”, his voice comes out barely above a whisper. You tackled your arms around his waist and his arms came down around you, pressing you against him. “If you want to try with your husband, I respect that. I don’t agree with it but I respect it. Just… please don’t disappear again.”
####################
You left Eddie that day with a mutual agreement of remaining friends. You even exchanged phone numbers with him and on days you were home alone you called him, telling him about your day and vice versa. 
One day you invited him to your school to have lunch with you. Eddie marveled at you from outside your classroom door. You looked so cute sitting on your desk swinging your legs as you talked to the glass. When you glanced towards the door and saw him, you eagerly waived him in. 
“Who’s that?” a girl near the front row giggled as he came in.
“Guys, this is my friend Eddie. Eddie, these are my pain in the butt freshman.” They laughed at you as he gave them a small wave. “Go ahead and sit down. The periods almost over.”, you whisper to him. 
You continue with your lesson on the book in your hand and after a few minutes a bell chimes. “Please, for the love of God, keep up with your reading. On Monday, we’re going to talk about your next project, okay?! Have a good weekend!”
You smile as they murmur goodbyes before speeding out of the room. 
“You good at this stuff.” Eddie grins as he grabs the book from your hands. You take the food out of the bag he brought, crossing your legs on your desk as you dig in. “The Great Gatsby. Did we have to read this in school?”
“Well, I’m not sure about Indiana but here it is part of their freshman curriculum. Have you read it?”, Eddie shakes his head as he places the book on the desk. “It’s about a man named Gatsby who loves a woman named Daisy. She’s married to this rich aristocrat guy so Gatsby spends his life trying to become rich enough for her. Her cousin moves in next door to him so he uses him to his advantage.”
“Oof. Sounds complicated as hell.” He laughs as he starts eating his own food. “Tell me more. I like hearing you talk about it.” You flash him a questioning look. “The way you talk about the material, you get more animated. If I was their age and you were my teacher, I may actually have read the book.” Eddie smiles as you laugh at him. “What happens in the end?”
“It doesn’t end happily. Long story short, Daisy stays with her husband and Gatsby dies.”
You both avoid eye contact as you pick at your plate. “So, um, how’s work been? Better?”
Eddie chuckles. “Mira didn’t fire me if that’s what you’re asking. Yeah, everything’s gone back to normal, I guess. What about your husband? Still being good?”
You scrunch your nose at his word choice. “Yeah. I mean, there have been a few nights he’s stayed late at work but it’s not as bad as before. He actually took me out to this really nice restaurant the other night.” You dare to sneak a peek at him as you talk. Eddie continues looking down at his food, nodding his head. 
Reaching towards him, you tenderly place your hand on his arm. “Thank you.”
He gently grazes your fingers with his own, almost as if he’s afraid to touch you too much. “Not a problem, Princess.”
#################
“Honey, you alright?” Your husband taps your arm. 
“Yeah, I’m sorry I just zoned out for a bit.” You laugh at yourself as you shake your head. 
The phone on the wall rings and he leans back to answer it. His eyes flick towards you before he makes a small mhmm noise and pulls the phone from his lips. “It’s my boss. I’m going to take it in the other room. Would you mind hanging this one up for me?”
“Yeah sure.”
“Thanks, sweetheart.” He doesn’t see your face cringe at the name as he kisses your forehead before jogging down the hallway. “Ok! I got it!”
“Ok!” You don’t know what possessed you in that moment but instead of hanging up the phone, you put it up to your ear covering the mouthpiece with your hand. 
“I can’t, baby. Not tonight. I already told you. I’m on thin ice with my wife.”
“Don’t you baby me. I thought you said you loved me!”
“I do, Sarah. I do but—”
“But you love her more!”
*sigh* “Look, don’t move, okay? I’ll be right there.”
You hang up the phone and thirty seconds later your husband rounds the corner. “Honey, I’m so sorry. They need me to come down for a few hours to work on this project. I shouldn’t be there to long.”
You stare at him with wide eyes as your brain runs a mile a minute. “You should go. Definitely don’t want to keep your boss waiting.”
##################
The moment Eddie opens his front door your lips are on his as you jump into his arms.
“Whoa! Sweetheart…hang on…a minute.” He barely gets the words out as you keep trying to keep his mouth on yours. “Please…Jesus H. Christ.” 
He somehow manages to tear you off him, placing your feet on the floor. Eddie’s long fingers brush your hair back and out of your eyes. They were extremely worn and heavy from crying. The whiskey on your breath hung around you like a storm cloud. “What happened, Princess?”
You reach towards him attempting to run your hands along his bare chest but he catches them in midair to hold them in his own. “Talk later. Fuck me now.”
“Okay, that would be the alcohol.” You swayed drunkenly in his grasp. Rolling your eyes, you pull away from him and throw yourself down on his bed. You reach for him with little grabby hands. “I’ll make you deal. You take a nap and then when you wake up, we’ll revisit this conversation, ok?
You giggle, nodding your head as your heavy eyelids start to droop. Eddie sits on the edge of his mattress beside you, delicately removing your shoes and socks. “I’m going to take off your pants to make you more comfortable, ok? This is not a sexy invitation.” He smiles and you nod again.
After he completes his task, he maneuvers your body so you’re under the covers. “Should I call your husband and let him know you’re here? I can say your friend is with you and I’m her boyfriend or something.”
With your eyes still closed, you scoff as you turn your head towards the sound of his voice. “Fuck him. He won’t even be home. He’s with Sarah.” You giggle but Eddie notices your bottom lip shake as your voice cracks. 
He blinks into the void as his mind pieces together the little information he has in front of him. “Oh Princess. I’m so sorry.”
You were silent so he assumed you had fallen asleep. He rose with the intention of sleeping on the couch when your hand flew out in his direction. “Eddie… please don’t leave me.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll just be on the couch right over there.”
You shook your head, pulling at his arm. “Please. I’ll fucking break the glass if I have to.”
It took him a moment to understand what your drunk mind was trying to convey. “Y/N, there’s no glass here.” Eddie crawls into the bed beside you and you immediately press your small frame to his side as your head falls to his chest. He reaches for your hands and intertwines his fingers with yours. “No barrier. I’m right here, Sweetheart. I’ll be right next to you when you wake up.” ###################
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fortheloveofwonderland · 11 months
Note
Congratulations on the new milestone, my dear Scarlet! For the celebration, I want to ask Spencer x Reader with Home by Goo Goo Dolls (I adore this song!). Love you!
Hello lovely! I originally had this written and queued to post but 12 hours later I decided I hated it. I adore you and your writing and you deserved better, so this my second attempt! Also I had an urge to write a 5+1 fic.
Send me a song lyric from my list to celebrate my follower milestone 🎵
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Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader
Summary - The five times Spencer took you home and the one time he needed you to return the favour.
CW - drinking, drunk reader, vague hint at a spicy activities but nothing explicit, slight argument, break up, mentions of the Lynch case and hospitals, make ups.
WC - 4.3k
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One 
The aggressively roaming rainbow coloured lights that revolved around the room, lighting up previously dark corners at a moments notice. 
The heavy thrumming of the bass-heavy music that shook the walls and vibrated the floor, up through the soles of his feet and into his bones. 
The thick crowds of sweaty, inebriated bodies constantly bumping into one another, bumping into him and encroaching dangerously on the germaphobe's personal space. 
The expensive cover charge and even more extorinante drink prices which made him glad for once that he didn’t drink. 
The constant goading from his friends to loosen up and have some fun, or at least try to look like you’re enjoying yourself. 
Those were just five of a hundred reasons that Spencer Reid deplored clubs. 
Usually he would avoid them like the plague, but tonight it was Emily’s birthday and she’d all but demanded he come along with the rest of the team. 
A crowded room full of empty faces. Conversations filled with lies. Another night with all his friends, wondering if they saw through his thinly veiled disguise. 
He clung to the sidelines like the wallflower he was and after a socially acceptable amount of time had passed, he offered his apologies to the birthday girl and said goodbye. 
And that could have been the end of his night. 
Pushing open the front door he sucked in a huge breath of fresh air the second his feet hit the pavement. The air in the club had been stifling, alcohol mixed with perspiration had overwhelmed his fragile senses. 
He felt dirty. He needed to go home and take a long, hot shower. 
But as he turned to head down the street, conveniently Emily had chosen a club just a few blocks from his apartment, he stopped in his tracks when he found a body slumped on the ground. 
The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He was an FBI agent and he was also a gentleman and he couldn’t in good conscience leave a woman alone like this. 
No matter how much he wanted to go home.  
He cautiously stepped closer to the woman, who was leaning against a wall, legs drawn up for which a head rested upon. It didn’t take a genius to figure the woman was drunk. 
“Excuse me, miss? Uh, are you ok?” He asked with a frown as he approached. 
Your head snapped backwards, narrowly avoiding slamming into the wall and you looked up at him with large, misty eyes. 
“Hmm? Me? I’m fine.” You nodded, proffering your hands towards him. “Little help? 
Spencer rolled his lip between his teeth, wanting to avoid any more unnecessary contact with strangers tonight but you clearly needed help. 
Somewhat reluctantly he reached out and took hold of your hands, pulling you to your feet with absolutely no help on your part. 
You stumbled a little but managed to correct yourself before Spencer had to intervene. You looked up at him through your lashes, the moonlight overhead reflecting on your irises.
“You’re really pretty.” Your lip quirked into a smile and Spencer’s stomach coiled into knots. 
He’d been thinking the exact same thing about you. 
“Uh, thanks?” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Where do you live? I can get you a cab?”
“Oh, you know.” You shrugged, wobbling on your feet. 
“No, no I don’t. We just met, remember?” He was frowning up as your eyes cast up and down the street as if you were searching for your own home. 
“Around here somewhere. I think.” You nodded, but then added, “where are we?” 
Spencer exhaled between parted lips, knowing he couldn’t leave you to fend for yourself. And despite his better judgement, he spoke anyway. 
“I live round the corner, you can crash at my place until you sober up.” 
“You’re going to take me home, pretty boy?” You winked suggestively at him and he couldn’t help the way he felt his crotch stir. 
“Not like that!” He quickly shook his head. “I just…just come with me.” 
It was slightly concerning how easily you followed a complete stranger home. Maybe he’d have to give you a lecture on the dangers of it in the morning. 
But for now, you slung your arm around his waist, something he would normally hate but found he rather enjoyed when you did it, and he led you home. 
***
Spencer slept on the couch and let you take his bed with very little protest from you. He was already awake and reading a book when you emerged wearing nothing but an old t-shirt of his he’d lent you last night. 
You were squinting against the onslaught of light in the room, hand cradling the side of your head. Your eyes landed on him and your eyebrows knitted together. 
“Uh…hi?” You croaked, grimacing in the pain caused simply by speaking. 
“Good morning.” Spencer set his book down and got to his feet but he didn’t come any closer to you. 
“Did we…?” You trailed off hoping he would catch your drift. 
He didn’t. 
“Did we, what?” 
“Sleep together?” 
“What?” He squeaked, his cheeks instantly flushing bright red. “No! You were wasted.” 
“That wouldn’t stop most men.” You shrugged sadly.
“I’m not most men.” He shrugged too. “You were drunk and I didn’t want to just leave you on the street so I let you crash here.” 
“Wow.” You nodded, eyes sparking a little. “Maybe there are some good guys left in the world.” 
“I try.” He shrugged once more. 
“What’s your name? I’m sorry I don’t remember.” You padded a little closer to him. 
“Oh, we didn’t get around to exchanging names. I was too busy trying to stop you bumping into everything I own.” He offered you a tight lipped smile. “I’m Spencer. Spencer Reid.” 
“Y/N.” You stepped closer and when you offered him your hand to shake, he didn’t even think twice about it. 
***
Two
“And I realised I hadn’t had company in…five years? So I thought I better at least crack a window.” He was rambling, god help him he was rambling. 
You leant against the dining table with an ever growing smirk on your lips as he awkwardly spat out words, clearly not noticing your amusement. 
“I guess I should feel privileged?” You cocked your eyebrow at him. “Five years, huh?”
The way in which he said the word company, told you exactly what he meant. Obviously he’d had people around his place, you’d been here not a few months ago yourself. 
But he hadn’t had company. Company of a woman in his bed. And as if to prove this, a blush crept up his neck and onto his cheeks which told you the answer before he spoke. 
“Yeah.” He chewed on his lip, feeling as though he needed to explain himself. “I throw myself into my work. I’m busy, you know? And even when I’m not I, uh…I’m not very good at talking to women, in case that wasn’t abundantly clear. And women don’t tend to gravitate towards me. So yeah, it’s been five years since I…you know.” 
God this was mortifying. 
It was your fifth date and the first time he’d invited you over since he’d helped you out when you were drunk. You’d been for dinner and when he’d suggested you come home with him, his intentions had been clear even if he hadn’t meant them to be. 
“That’s freaking adorable. I really do feel special.” Your smile grew.
“Adorable? Great, just what every man wants to hear from the woman he wants to…” he trailed off. 
“Wants to…what?” You took a step or two closer to him. 
“I think it’s safe to say you know exactly what I mean.” His blush deepened with each step closer you got. 
“For argument's sake, let’s say I don’t.” You were really close to him now, your arms snaking up and around his neck. 
“Come any closer and you’ll likely find out.” He croaked, somehow getting even redder. 
You smirked, pushing your body flush against his and quickly ascertaining just what he meant. 
He was hard, straining against his slacks and his erection pressed against you now, showing you what he was talking about. 
You giggled a little, edging your face closer to his, feeling his breath on your face. Just as you were about to press your lips against his, giving over to the sexual tension between the two of you, you were disturbed by the sound of his phone ringing. 
“Goddamnit.” He growled, pulling back from you and fishing his phone out of his pocket. Garcia. “I’ve gotta take this, I’m so sorry.” 
Spencer had never cared less about serial killers and murders in his life. He just hoped he would have another chance to take you home. 
***
Three 
Spencer grumbled as the ringing of his phone roused him from sleep. He was used to it by now, used to work dragging him from his bed in the middle of the night. So he was surprised to say the least when he saw your name on the screen. 
He panicked for a second as he brought the device to his ear and answered it. 
“Y/N?” He sat up in bed, pulling the duvet up to his chin. 
“Hey, Spence.” You replied. 
It had been almost a month since work had rudely interrupted your alone time and the two of you hadn’t seen each other since. You’d talked mostly through text but Spencer had started to get the impression he’d blown his chance with you. 
“It’s three am, is everything ok?” 
“Yeah, I just…can’t sleep.” You shrugged. “I hope it’s ok that I called.”
“Y/N, believe me when I say you could wake me up from half a world away and I’d be grateful.” 
“Can I…” you sighed shakily. “Can I come over?” 
“Always.” He was quick to reply. 
“Ok.” You nodded to yourself. “I’ll be over soon.” 
“I’ll be waiting.” He smiled, before hanging up the phone. 
***
This time when you came into his home, when you went to kiss him, there was no interruption. In fact there was no intrusion of work calling him all night long. 
It gave him the time he needed to worship every inch of you, to show you what a goddess he thought you until the sun was peeking in through the crack in the curtains. It was without a doubt the best night of Spencer’s life and by the time he was through he never wanted you to leave again. 
A house was just four walls but he now realised his home was wherever you were. 
At some point that night, somewhere in between the sheets, he gave his heart to you. And he never wanted you to give it back. 
***
Four
His apartment had never felt more like a home than when you were in it. But even after the night you’d spent together he still felt nervous asking you over.
Maybe he worried that now you’d had sex you would think it was all he wanted from you which couldn’t be further from the truth. 
But even still, when he picked you up from work on Friday, one of his rare days off, he felt scared to invite you round. 
“So what’s the plan tonight, Doc?” You asked with a bright smile as you slid into the passenger’s seat of his car. 
“Uh, I was thinking we could get take out and watch some movies. At my place. If you’d like that? We can go out though, if you’d prefer. I don’t mind.” He smiled awkwardly at you. 
“Why would I want to go out when I can have you all to myself at your apartment?” You gave him a mischievous look that caused his pants to tighten. 
“You…you really want that?” He swallowed. 
“I really want that.” You giggled, patting his knee and sending a jolt of electricity through his whole body. “Come on then Doc, take me home.” 
***
Take out and movies quickly became a long forgotten memory when you were climbing into his lap on the couch and stealing his attention away from the TV. 
Your knees either side of his thighs, you wrapped your arms around his neck and played with a stand of his curls. 
“You really are deliciously pretty, have I told you that before?” You gently rocked back and forth in his lap, feeling him growing aroused. 
“The night we met, you called me pretty.” A blush spread to his cheeks. 
Was he going to blush every time the two of you started to get intimate?
“Did I?” You laughed. “I can’t say I remember. But you are. Very, very pretty.” 
“And you are beautiful, my love.” He whispered, a gentle smile on his lips. 
He closed the space between you and kissed you, causing you to hum against his lips, whilst continuing to playfully grind down into his lap. 
You didn’t make it to the bedroom, didn’t even remove your clothes. Spencer simply shucked your dress out of the way and moved your panties aside while you moved his slacks just enough for his member to be freed. 
By some stroke of luck the BAU didn’t pull a case all weekend and you didn’t leave the confines of his apartment for two full days. 
You spent a blissful forty eight hours eating junk food, watching movies and having Spencer read to you along with making love in just about every inch of his abode. 
By the time Sunday night rolled around you had to physically drag yourself away from him so you could go back to your own apartment. Spencer was just as reluctant to see you go. 
“It’s not the same here without you.” He spoke as you kissed him in his doorway. “It only feels like home when you’re here.” 
You agreed wholeheartedly. 
You’d fallen head over heels with Spencer in no time at all and being with him in his apartment, you’d never felt more at home. 
Maybe one day you’d be able to share it. But for now you had to leave, despite everything inside of you begging you to stay. 
***
Five
Between both of your busy work schedules, it left little time for the two of you to be together. Every time Spencer was dragged away on a case he missed you more than the last, usually less than a hundred miles from you but feeling like a million.
You spoke on the phone whenever he was away, the shattered light transmitting your voice but being so far away, you sometimes didn’t have a choice. All you wanted was for him to come take you home again. 
After weeks of missing each other, whilst working a local case, he received a phone call from a number he didn’t recognise. He’d been staring at a map pinned to the board in the round table room at Quantico well into the early hours of the morning, when the phone buzzed in his pocket. 
It was your best friend, he’d heard a lot about her but never met her. It had instantly sent up a red flag which was warranted because she went on to tell him you were drunk and refused to go home unless Spencer was the one taking you.
Emily had been extremely gracious and let him go, he thanked her profusely as he’d run out of the door. He drove downtown as quickly as he could to the bar your friend had told him you were at. 
On arrival you had thrown yourself in his arms, giggling wildly and repeating in a slurred voice, you came, I knew you would. Come take me home, Spence.
It wasn’t until the morning that you regretted this decision entirely.
Much like that first morning you found Spencer on his couch and your head throbbed angrily. He looked much less awkward than he had that first time though, if you weren’t mistaken you would think he looked annoyed. 
He stood up and exhaled noisily through his nose and shook his head a little. 
“I was at work.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Right in the middle of trying to catch an unsub who is terrorising DC. You can’t…you can’t have your friends call me when I’m working, Y/N. I shouldn’t just leave my team in the middle of a case to come and pick you up when you’re drunk.” 
“They’re always going to come first, aren’t they?” You surprised him with your words. 
“What? Who?” 
“Serial killers. Your team. I barely see you because you’re always working.” 
“You knew what I did for a living before we started dating. My job is my life.” He shrugged. 
“And there’s no room in that life for someone else.” Your lip quivered slightly. 
“I didn’t say that.” He dropped his arms to his sides. 
“You didn’t need to.” You whispered. “I don’t think this is going to work out, Spencer. I need more from a relationship than you can offer.” 
“No, don’t say that.” He whined. “Please, please don’t say that.” 
“I’m sorry.” You shrugged sadly. “I am crazy about you Spencer, but when I love someone I love them with my entire being, they become my whole world. And I have to be theirs too.” 
“You…you love me?” He gasped slightly, feeling his chest tighten. 
“Of course I do.” You sniffed. 
“I love you too, Y/N. You are my whole world.” He took a few steps towards you but you held your hands up to stop him coming too close.
“No, Spencer. The BAU is your whole world. I’m sorry, I have to go.” You moved past him hurriedly towards the front door. 
“Y/N, please don’t do this.” He tried to reach for you but you slipped by him. “Y/N!” 
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You sobbed as you threw the door open and fled. 
Spencer stared at the closed door, eyes welling with tears. He stumbled a little, before collapsing on the couch. 
The walls of his apartment felt like they were closing in on him, making the already small room feel tinier under the weight of your absence. 
For a while these walls had started to feel like a home. But now you’d left it was nothing but bricks and mortar. 
***
One 
Months passed and you ignored every single one of Spencer’s phone calls. And he felt utterly lost without you. 
He threw himself into his work more so than ever, getting a little more invested in the Lynch case than he needed to. 
When he’d sent up the order for the cops to breach the house, his head hadn’t been clear and as such he hadn’t figured it out until it was too late. 
As the explosion sounded all around him and he flung backwards to the concrete, his mind was still awash with thoughts of you. 
And he’d know when he hit the floor, debris raining down around him. 
He’d known when he’d collapsed after returning to his apartment and started convulsing. 
He’d known when he’d woken up in hospital and you weren’t there by his bedside like he wished you were. 
He’d known when Emily came to visit him, exactly what he needed to do. 
“Hey, how are you feeling?” She smiled sadly at him as she meandered to his bed. 
“Kinda like I got blown up.” He shrugged. “I’m ok, or at least I will be. I, uh, I realised something. Just as the explosion went off and I was sent flying, I realised something.”
There was a calmness about him that Emily didn’t think she’d ever seen on him. He looked at peace, eerily content. 
She took hold of his hand, already knowing exactly what it was he was going to say. 
“You’re leaving the BAU, aren’t you?” She whispered. 
“How’d you know?” He cocked an eyebrow at her. 
“I just do.” She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “You seem like a man who’s come to terms with a really hard decision, but one that you feel lighter for making.” 
“I hate it when you profile me.” He rolled his eyes playfully. 
“It’s not profiling, it’s just knowing my friends.” She chuckled. “So what’s her name?” 
“Excuse me?” 
“Don’t even think about lying to me, Reid. For a while you were happier than I’d ever seen you. And then the last few months you’ve been struggling. You met someone and presumably it ended because of the job? Now that’s profiling.” She smirked. 
“One of the many reasons I am not going to miss you guys.” He joked. “Her name is Y/N and you’re spot on. Emily, does it make me a complete idiot for giving up my life’s work for a shot at love?” 
“Not at all.” She was quick to answer. “You’ve been through a tremendous amount of trauma in your life, Spencer. It’s about time you got some sunshine after so many years of black clouds. As long as you think she’s worth it, it’s not stupid at all.” 
“She’s…” he sighed contentedly trying to think of the right way to word it and only coming up with one simple term to describe you. “She’s like coming home.” 
“I’m happy for you.” She gave his hand a final squeeze before letting go. “The doctor said you should be discharged tomorrow. I’ll make sure someone’s here to pick you up.” 
“Thanks Emily. I’ll bring my badge and firearm back once I’m back up on my feet.” 
“No rush. Get some rest.” She smiled as she left the room, already pulling her phone from her pocket and dialling a familiar number. 
Penelope Garcia answered on the second ring. 
“How is he?” She hurried to ask. 
“He’s good, on the mend.” Emily nodded to herself. “I need you to find a number for me Penelope and I need you to not ask me why.” 
***
The following day Spencer was discharged but no one had to come to his room for him. 
He dressed in the clean clothes JJ had dropped by last night and signed his hospital papers just as his phone chimed within an incoming text. 
📱 Emily Prentiss: Your ride is waiting for you out front. Time to go home. 
He frowned at the slightly cryptic message as a nurse came in with a wheelchair to take him downstairs. 
He tried to fight it but he didn’t have the energy and so, despite the fact it made him feel feeble, he allowed her to wheel him out. 
In the elevator, he sent a reply to Emily. 
📲 Any hints as to who I’m looking for?
No sooner had he hit send, a reply came in. 
📱 Emily Prentiss: Nope. All I’ll say is: you’re welcome. 
He didn’t have much time to dwell on it as soon the elevator reached the ground floor and he was being wheeled out into the parking lot. 
It was a good job he was sitting down because when he spotted you standing a little awkwardly by your car, his legs immediately started to tremble. 
You spotted him and offered him a shy wave as the nurse took him over. When they reached you, she helped him out of the chair and handed him his duffel bag but was soon leaving again. 
Spencer regarded you curiously as you toyed with your hands in obvious discomfort. 
“Emily called you.” He smiled apologetically at you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t ask her to.”
“I know, she said you had no idea and that you’d probably kick her ass if you did.” A smile played on your lips. “I can’t imagine you kicking anybody's ass.” 
“No, but I seem to continually getting mine kicked.” He gestured vaguely to his injuries. 
“She told me what happened. Are you ok?” Concern laced your words. 
“I will be.” He nodded. “I really am sorry she dragged you here. I can get a cab.”
“Spencer?” You stepped closer to him, gnawing on your lip. “Did you leave the BAU because of me?” 
“Yes.” He nodded. “I mean also, it was time. I’m getting older and I can’t keep winding up in hospital beds. But ultimately, losing you was worse than losing my job. And it might be too little too late but I am choosing you. If you’ll still have me.” 
You tilted your head to the side a little, reaching out your hands and taking hold of the lapels of his shirt. You took a second to just breathe him in, relish in the moment of being reunited with the only man you’d ever truly loved. 
“Spence, I have done nothing but miss you for months. I never expected you to quit the BAU, I just wanted to know you saw me as a priority. And I see now that you do. I love you and I am also choosing you.” 
“Oh thank god.” He breathed out heavily, chuckling as he did so. “I love you so much.”
With that you drew him closer by his collar and slammed your lips against his. His arms immediately wrapped around you, holding you close and afraid to ever let you go too far again. 
The kiss was tender and loving, all your feelings for one other being spoken silently against each other's lips. 
When you pulled back, he stroked back your hair and he was giving you the kind of smile that could light up the whole damn world.
“So where’d you wanna go, Doc? My place or yours?” 
“How about we go to my place? Only from now on we call it our place?” He knew it was soon, probably way too soon. He could have very well ruined things again before they had a chance to begin. “I tried to be so strong, but you see the cracks. My defence is gone. I want to take you home for good.” 
His house was just four walls. It wasn't a home unless you were there. 
Slowly your lips curled up into a smile, one that reached all the way to your eyes. 
“Sounds good to me.” You nodded, placing another chaste kiss to his lips. “Come take me home, Doc.” 
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gaystan · 10 months
Text
PRESENTING ME AND @11x13kyle's FIRESIDE CHATS WITH KYLE AND ERIC AKA NICHE INTERNET MICROCELEBRITY AU:
cartman and kyle host a podcast called fireside chats with kyle and eric that’s basically just red scare, cartman is dasha and kyle is anna
they're constantly beefing with each other on twitter and some people are convinced it's staged to promote the show but kyle just hates cartman That Much
a majority of their listeners are just there for the occasional mention of their batshit childhood experiences amongst all the terrible political takes
like "umm i don't wanna hear this insane opinion on al gore i want to know more about how you guys swear that he tried to get you to help him kill manbearpig when you were 8"
fans wonder if these events are true or if they're enabling each other's schizophrenia
cartman is always saying the worst reactionary things while kyle's takes are deceptively normal until he hits them with one that makes listeners go hey WHAT?
kyle resents being called a reactionary but cartman LOVES it, wears the label like a badge of pride
there is CONSTANT discourse about whether or not cartman's antisemitism is ironic or not, with the reasoning "why would kyle be friends with him if it was genuine," and kyle regularly takes to twitter to say "IT IS NOT IRONIC."
kyle peaks the mic multiple times an ep yelling at cartman, says they'll edit it out in post, never gets cut because neither of them can edit
reddit posts go up are after every episode giving timestamp warnings for when kyle gets super loud
cartman has a christian music era, gets tradcath allegations and does little to discourage them
there are people who rpf ship kyman. cartman knows about this and tweets at fans asking them to send him fic recs
secretly jacks off to them
has a bit where he gives a shout out to his favorite kyman fic of the week and kyle breaks the mic every single time screaming at him
he posts unbelievably cringy "ironic" thirst traps to his instagram story at night and "ironic" drag pictures but the outfits and makeup are too good to be a joke
he also posts pictures of butters in bed with like bites on his neck to brag about getting hot tail but it's also just as unsexy
this is how he accidentally comes out, he was so distracted by the need to flex that he forgot he's still trying to beat the gay allegations
the "ironic" kyman fic jokes stop being funny
butters is adam friedland and kenny is the girl he cheated with
the butters show is cohosted with dougie and part of the alt right pipeline
stan is kyle's offline boyfriend in a B list rock band and wears fireside merch on stage sometimes
this includes the isis shirts which he swears up and down he didn't know were isis shirts
deeply apolitical by choice so whenever kyle talks to him about podcast stuff he nods along like whatever you say honey
he still listens to it he just tunes out of the political talk
the day his fans find out he's gay is the biggest day for them since his 2021 single hit the hot 100
everyone analyzing his old lyrics like oh my god. this was about a MAN. it all makes sense.
kenny is a twitter microceleb and socialite, much like with cartman controversy is part of the brand
gained thousands of followers over the butters cheating discourse
thirst tweets about kyle and they're secretly unironic
comes on fireside and rates youtubers he's slept with, kyle is disgusted and cartman is delighted
chapo trap house is craig and those guys
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gucciwins · 1 year
Text
an ex brings stories and mistrust
Word count: 3440
A/N: you asked for angst for some reason so here it is. i am so happy to know you still love bel and harry as much as i do. 🤍
Warnings: angst, jealousy, ex-boyfriend
read love on tour series 
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“I’m going out tonight,” you tell Harry as you steal a sip of his coffee. You love the smell but can never find yourself enjoying a full cup.
“Done being a homebody,” he teases.
You roll your eyes; after being home in London for a few days, you’ve been enjoying staying in your house but also at Harry’s. It was larger than yours, yet it felt cozy because he was here.
“Haha, a few friends are in the city and want to grab dinner, maybe karaoke,” you share, “what we do after is still up in the air.”
“You can always sing one of mine,” as he takes a blueberry out of her hand.
“Mhm…too bad I already have my song.”
“It’s a classic. You sing ‘you’re so vain’ perfectly every time. Always leaves me in awe.”
You feel your face warm up at his compliments. There had been a lot of begging for him to get you to sing in front of his friends one night. It helped. Most of them were a few tequila shots in. Although it is something Mitch brings every time you see him suggesting new songs, you should try to karaoke for them.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, H.”
Harry frowns, wanting to spend more time with you this morning, but he knows you have a fitting for a red carpet. You’re working with an upcoming designer Sarai told you about,  a Hispanic designer with beautiful looks incorporating designs from their culture. You just had to work with them; of course, they were happy to agree.
“Send me photos, please,” he mutters against your lips.
“Promise.”
You go to pull away, but Harry holds your waist, deepening the kiss wanting to give you something that would hopefully want to make you stay home, although he knew it was a losing battle. You pull away breathless, a smile breaking out as you see Harry’s puffy pink lips.
“I love you, H.”
“Te amo, Bel.”
_____
There was no studio today, and Harry decided to use the day to catch up on reading a few books Bel had recommended he got two chapters in when he was inspired to grab his journal to write these lyrics before they escaped him. Harry wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he felt his phone ring, he dropped his pen thinking it was Bel but to his surprise saw it was Naomi, your best friend.
“Hi Naomi,” he greets.
“Hiya H, where’s our girl? She’s ignoring my calls,” Naomi asks, straight to the point.
“She had a fitting and was going out tonight.”
“Did she? Say with who?”
“Oh, friends in the city. Don’t think she gave me any names.”
Harry peeked at the time on his phone and saw it was close to six pm. The day honestly had gotten away from him. He would need to cook himself dinner.
“Heard Dylan was in the city.” Harry frowns, hearing Sarai whisper to Naomi.
“Who?”
“Dylan O'Brien,” Naomi tells him, “a good friend.”
“Who’s still in love with her,” Sarai inputs.
Harry hears Naomi shush Sarai,” sorry they’ve been drinking.”
“Why would Dylan be in love with Bel?” Harry had never been more confused. He knew you saw Dylan as a good friend; you would go as far as saying he was one of your closest friends in the industry.
Naomi sighed, knowing they messed up.
“It’s not–shit. H, you have to understand this was years ago.”
“What was?”
“Dylan and Bel dated,” she confesses.
And Harry feels his heart drop.
How did he not know this? How could you not share this information with him?
“Listen, it was after their first film together. It was never made public and is something she really doesn’t share. She broke up with Dylan because he was ready to get serious and take it to the next step, and she felt she wasn’t there. He was heartbroken after, but he was always supporting her.”
“He didn’t want to break up, did he?”
Naomi sighed, “no, he fought her on it, but she was set on her decision.”
“Did she love him?”
Silence.
“Naomi, please!”
“Of course she did. But it’s different, H. You have to believe me. She loves you. I’ve never seen her this happy or in love, and I’ve known her all her life. You make her shine. She’s one hundred percent herself when she’s with you.”
Naomi sharing this brings him a bit of comfort, but he’s left with the question of why you hadn’t told him Dylan was an ex. He was sure there were no secrets between each other, but now he wasn’t so sure. Harry shared about his past heartbreaks and his hand in breaking hearts. You had shared little, telling him that you had two serious relationships that were not worth talking about because you had all wanted something different.
“I don’t get why she wouldn’t tell me.”
“She doesn’t dwindle in the past. Think she’s lived there long enough.”
Harry sighs because he understands, in a way, he doesn’t know what it is like to be alone for years or not to have a loved one to seek out for comfort to share childhood memories with, but he has been faced with loss and knows how hard it can be. He does not understand why she’d keep her relationship with Dylan a secret. It’s as if there was something more she wasn’t telling him.
“I’m going to ask her about it,” Harry tells Naomi.
He hears her sigh, “I’d be surprised if you didn’t.”
“Bye, Naomi.”
“Harry, please be kind. I know this isn’t the easiest way to find something out, but don’t react when you’re speaking with her,”
He sighs, knowing she’s right. Harry doesn’t know what would have happened if he found out through you, but for now, he had to feel his emotions, and he’d talk about this news when you came home to him tonight.
“Of course.”
The phone drops against the cushion on his couch. There’s too much on his mind for him to rest in peace. Harry decides to meditate as the best way to work through his clouded mind. It works for some time until he feels the urge to check his phone, so he leans across where he let it fall, his eyes bugging out to see how late it had turned and you had yet to turn up. He didn’t mean to bother you when you were out, but he was concerned because, for the past few days, you’ve been coming home to him.
He sighs in relief when he hears your cheery voice after the second ring.
“Hi baby,” he breathes out. “Are you coming back here tonight?”
You sigh, coming out low. “Sorry, H. We came back to my place with some friends. You’re welcome to come,” you offer, feeling bad about making him wait for you when you could have texted him earlier in the evening.
“Hurry back. We’re going to lose,” Harry hears Dylan call for you.
Harry tenses, forgetting that you had even asked him a question. “H?”
“No, uh, early morning tomorrow,” he lies.
“Lunch tomorrow, then?” You counter. “Vinny’s?”
“I’ll be at our table,” he promises.
Harry heads to bed with a heavy heart but is thankful he will see you tomorrow.
____
He had arrived early, wanting to have your food ready for when you arrived. You always loved eating the same meal here, the ravioli with butternut squash filling. It was good, and Harry always ended up stealing a bit or two from you when you claimed he needed to try it.
As he waited for you, he was trying to decide how to approach the topic or wondered if Naomi had already sent her a warning. A few minutes later, a large commotion in front of the restaurant caught his attention. There are people gathered around, and he catches a glimpse of your face making him quick to leave his seat and go help you with the crowd. To his surprise, Dylan helped part the crowd and guided you inside with a hand on the small of your back. The group stayed outside as Harry watched you turn to hug Dylan in gratitude. You stood there speaking with him before Dylan shook his head, leaning in to give you a kiss on your cheek. Harry was confused. You showed up with him, and even more that you managed to catch the attention of a crowd.
“Hey,” you greet him with a breathless grin.
“You alright?” He checks in.
“Saw that,” you breathe out. “It was fine. Dylan was there to help.”
Harry hums in response, trying to think what he wants to say.
“Did you order?”
“Should be here in a few minutes.”
You drop the menu, flashing him a huge smile. “You’re an angel, H.”
He sits silently, letting you start to tell him about your day when he interrupts your story about Sally burning pancakes last night. “Why did you show up with Dylan?”
You frown, leaning back a bit as he surprised you with the sudden question. “He stayed the night, and I had let Emerson borrow my car for the day, and I had forgotten, and he offered.”
“You stayed with him alone!” Harry exclaims.
“No, Sally, Nina, Saoirse, Tom, and even Sarah stopped by last night for game night.”
Harry huffs, “you could have called me.”
You grimace, “he was heading this way, and you had a meeting this morning.”
“And the paparazzi just so happened to know you were headed here.”
You frown, not liking what he was insinuating. “H, what are you saying?”
He shrugs, taking a drink of his water.
“Do you think Dylan called the paparazzi?” You sound surprised he’d accuse your friend of this.
“We’ve eaten here how many times?” He reminds you, not once have you had a run-in with paparazzi. “Funny he offers you a ride, and you’re conveniently papped together.”
You sit back in your seat, not sure what he meant. He’s been papped out from time to time, sometimes with you and sometimes when he’s out with other friends. There’s this world you live in, and how easy it is to get lost in your own world behind closed doors. Forgetting that others around you will do anything to get a glimpse inside.
“Harry, come on.”
He shakes his head, “forget it.”
After that, lunch is tense, little to no conversation is had, no matter how much you try. He checks his phone more often, making you fall silent. It’s the quietest meal you’ve had, and it makes you upset not knowing what you did wrong. Harry finished his meal before you but didn’t rush you. Not feeling comfortable continuing to eat, you decide you’re finished placing your napkin on top and offering him a small smile. He asks for the check, and soon you’re off, following Harry to his car, wondering if he’s going to take you home or back to his place.
You don’t dare ask.
It’s not until he takes a left turn instead of a right do you sit back in relief, knowing he still wants you around. Even if it is only to sit in silence.
He parks the car. You sit there together in silence, not sure where you stand. You reach out to squeeze his hand to comfort you and let out a breath of relief when he lets you.
“Come on, I’ll make us some tea.”
You’re not sure what conversation awaits you inside, but it’s Harry, and you know together, you can work through anything.
______
Harry is quiet as he lets the kettle warm up. You set your bag on the couch before following after him. You can see he’s tense as he grabs two mugs from the cabinets.
“Need any help?” You offer itching to do something.
“I got it.”
You sit there waiting patiently because you know Harry will bring it up soon. He can only hold something in for so long before he pops, and you know you won’t have to wait long.
Harry pours a cup of chamomile tea into a floral mug you painted when you did a ceramics class together during the holidays. It was his favorite, which is why it resided in his home and not yours.
“I know,” he whispers, breaking the silence you were in.
You stare at him, confused, unsure of what he is referring to. He knows what?
“Sorry, H? I don't know what you mean.”
Harry pushes away his mug before turning to look at you. His eyes look lost and hurt, and you want to fix that; you’re just not sure you know how to.
His frown deepens, “I know—I know about him.”
Harry says him with so much distaste that you’re not sure what he’s referring to. “H,”
“Dylan—that you dated Dylan,” he breathes out, and your face falls in surprise. Harry takes in your reaction and knows Naomi wasn’t lying that you dated Dylan and didn’t bother to tell Harry he was an ex, only claiming he was a close friend.
“Harry,” you whisper, hoping he’ll let you explain.
“You told me he was a friend.”
“He is.”
Harry scoffs, “you can’t be friends with your ex, not when they’re still in love with you.”
You can’t believe he would say throw that in your face when he’s notorious for being friendly with his exes and having them out for shows. Instead of arguing, you allow yourself to take a deep breath and remain seated, hoping he’ll let you explain.
“Can I tell you about this past relationship, so you’re not only running on what you’ve heard?”
“Are you insinuating your friends are lying?” He bites back.
Naomi and Sarai are the only ones that know, besides a few close friends of his. You’re not upset with them. It must have been an accident. You don’t even want to know, but you want to talk this out with Harry.
“Dylan worked on my first movie with me, and I was so scared. He was nice and had a few movies and shows under his belt already. Our chemistry read had gone well, and it’s how I booked the role, but he was my friend first. Nothing happened during filming. I would have never allowed for that to happen on my first Hollywood movie.” You pause because you hadn’t thought back to that time in years when you were full of nerves and not sure how people would accept you as a lead, especially next to an already well-loved actor with a growing fan base by the day. Dylan was a friend, and it wasn’t until after filming wrapped did he ask you on a date. It was complicated, but Harry deserved the truth.
“We wrapped and went our separate ways. He called to check in, and we got to talking. He asked me on a date, and I accepted. He understood how I didn’t want this to be on every magazine when I was growing my name, and he was the star of Teen Wolf. It would have labeled me his girlfriend before I could make a name for myself.” You watch Harry. No emotions cross his face as he listens to you. “We dated close to a year when he wanted to go public and be my date to red carpets. I liked what we had; it was intimate and private, no need to give ourselves away to the public. It’s when we stopped seeing eye to eye. By the time our movie was set to release, we had broken up. Press interviews were hard, but we made it through. Dylan promised he’d be my friend, and he has been.”
Harry stares at you, and you have no idea what he’s thinking. You know you made a mistake by never sharing about Dylan or your other ex, but it’s trivial. The exes in your life didn’t define you and felt pointless to talk about when your last relationship was years before Harry.
“You broke his heart?” Is the first thing Harry asks.
You shrug, “we wanted different things. We were both so young.”
“Did anything ever happen after you broke up?” You freeze, and Harry picks up on your hesitation. “What happened?”
“He was going through a breakup, and I was in New York at the time. I reached out and offered my support. We ordered takeout and talked about how he was doing. One thing led to another,” you run a hand through your hair, feeling overwhelmed. “We agreed it meant nothing.”
Harry couldn’t believe how deep your relationship ran with him. How, even years later, you sought each other out. There’s one question that plagues his mind. “Did he know your family?”
You frown, of course he did, and the confirmation you know will hurt Harry in a way you never wanted. “He met them when I brought my grandparents to tour set on the first film.”
Harry��s face crumbles right in front of you. “He has a part of you I’ll never have,” Harry confesses.
You feel a bit of your heartbreak because you know your family would have loved Harry. Your Abuelo would have dragged him into the kitchen to help, and your Abuela would have taught him all her favorite songs until he could play them back for her.
“I know, I know. You think I don’t know that.” You don’t want to cry. You can’t. “You think I don’t think about it constantly how my family would have loved you, and I never got the chance to introduce them to you. I won’t get to introduce them to anyone important to me, and it kills me, Harry. That’s a pain I carry every day.”
There’s a crack in Harry’s anger, and you know he wants to reach out to hug you, but he stops himself. There’s so much left to say; instead, he lets his anger control him.
“You’ve called him in front of me!” He accuses thinking of the time during tour you sat and congratulated him on his recent film.
“He’s a friend. That’s all he has been for years.” You’re going in circles. It’s like Harry won’t hear a word you’re saying.
Harry scoffs, “not when you’re both single, it seems.”
You shake your head, “you don’t get to be mad about this. It was all before you!”
“Who’s to say he won’t come running when you break my heart, and you’re searching for comfort,” he throws at you knowing the words would hurt, and they do, making cracks in your heart that had never been there before.
“I don’t want to break your heart, Harry,” you soften your voice, pleading for him to listen to you. “I love you. You’re it for me.”
“Then why did you keep him a secret!” Harry screams. “If you loved me, you would have told me. I thought I knew everything about you.” He shakes his head, no longer able to look at you. “It’s clear you don’t trust me.”
“But I do,” your voice cracks as you fail to contain your tears.
“You don’t not as much as I thought you did. I told you about my exes and how I hurt them but also how they hurt me. You know how hard that conversation was for me.” Harry’s eyes are stormy. It’s a look you don’t recognize, and you know you put that dark look there. “I want to be alone.”
“H,” your voice wobbles.
“You need to leave. I want to be alone.”
Instantly you feel your walls rise. You’ve been in this situation before.
“Harry, if you tell me to leave, I won’t be coming back. We’ve had a similar conversation just like this.”
You see Harry freeze taking in your words. “I love you, Bel. I do,” his voice breaks. “I don’t want you to leave me, but I want to be alone. You hurt me, I know you didn’t mean to, but I need this time to process.”
You sigh, backing down. There’s no use in fighting. You walk out, taking out the key that rested next to your shark charm on your key set and placing it next to the empty pink vase missing the flowers you were supposed to pick together tomorrow at the farmer’s market. “Don’t think I deserve this or have your trust to keep it.”
And with that, you walk out the door, leaving your heart with him.
You hadn’t lost him, but it felt like you had.
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don't worry there will be a part two...but i'll let you sit with this for now
taglist: @alienorknight @harry-is-on-route-66 @myfavfanficsever @springholland @michellekstyles @harryismyfwend @japanchrry @lechairr @golden-hoax @itsmycorneroftheinternet @harryspirate @tenaciousperfectionunknown @thurhomish @thelovecayon @shawnieeboyy @dontworrysunflower @a-strange-familiar​ @caramello-styles​
847 notes · View notes
jason-todd-bookseller · 11 months
Text
Ticket
Roy hovers outside the kitchen, watching Jason wash the dishes while also cooking dinner.
They both like to multitask.
But where Roy’s version is chaotic, Jason’s is controlled.
It’s easy to watch, almost like a dance.
Roy pauses, watching Jason whisper the lyrics that he himself can barely hear.
The music from Jason’s phone is barely audible over the water running in the sink and boiling on the stove.
Remember us just like this forever
But this can't last, won't last
Jason never plays this music when others are around.
At first Roy thought it was because he was embarrassed for still liking a band from when he was a teenager.
And then Roy realized that Jason isn’t embarrassed by his taste in music.
He’s protective of it.
So make no plans and none can be broken
No plans and none can be broken
Of the 15 year old kid he used to be.
And Roy’s let him have that, pretending all these months since they moved in together that he doesn’t hear the music of a boy who never got to grow up.
Do you laugh about me whenever I leave?
Or do I just need more therapy?
But then there was a new album. A new smile on Jason’s face. And Roy did what any good boyfriend would do.
Roy glances down at the envelope in his hands. It feels heavier than it is. Weighed down by Roy’s doubts.
I just gotta figure out a window to break out
Buried alive inside my dreams
But it was all a fake out, fake out
Roy’s not supposed to know this about Jason. He’s not sure anyone is.
But he does and when Jason realizes he knows… well Roy’s not really sure what will happen then.
Maybe he’ll run. Angry at having yet another thing taken from him.
Maybe he’ll tell Roy to mind his own business and to leave him alone.
Or maybe he’ll never listen to this band again.
Roy would never forgive himself if that happens.
The fact that it’s still playing means Roy’s actually managed to sneak up on him for once.
He hesitates another moment.
We did it for futures that never came
And for pasts that we're never gonna change
And then he walks into the kitchen, watching as Jason’s easy moments become hurried and embarrassed as he struggles to turn the music off.
“I told you I’d call you when dinner was ready,” Jason huffs, trying to sound irritated and grumpy.
Roy shrugs, trying to hide his nervousness.
If he can tell his best friend he loves him, he can tell his boyfriend this.
Give his boyfriend this.
“Sorry.”
Jason noticed the envelope in Roy’s hands them and quirks an eyebrow at him.
“Dick and the old gang send you another ‘Please come back’ letter?”
The Titans did want his help actually, but that’s another discussion for another time.
Assuming Jason doesn’t kill him in the next few moments.
“Nope. It’s for you actually.”
Jason eyes the envelope and then Roy suspiciously, drying his hands and bidding his time.
“It’s not going to explode when I open it. Is it?”
Roy shakes his head, smiling as he hands over the envelope.
He watches Jason open it, watches him peer inside and pull out the contents.
When Jason was 15 and visiting Titans Tower for the first time, he had brought his iPod with him. A gift for Dick earlier that month. And Roy has caught him singing along to some song he didn’t know the name of till after Jason was already dead.
The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes
“Happy Birthday, Jaybird.”
Jason continues to stare down at the ticket in his hand.
Backstage pass.
Early entry.
Roy would kill for tickets like these to any of his favorite bands.
But Jason’s quiet, and still.
Not angry.
Not embarrassed.
Not excited.
Just—
“Thank you.”
It’s a whisper and a smile Roy almost misses when he blinks.
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imma-devil · 2 years
Note
could you do an eddie munson x reader where the reader and eddie are friends and reader accidentally finds a journal eddie keeps of secret stuff, you know ;) and every innocent friend touch and interaction sends them into a frenzy until eddie finally confronts her about it
Paranoid | e.m
Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Summary: An unintentional invasion of privacy leads to the reader finding something that may be the spark in their changing friendship with Hawkin’s resident rockstar— Eddie Munson.
Warning: 18+ Smut (MINORS DNI), reckless driving, mentions of underage alcohol and drug use. 
Tags: no use of y/n, Gareth and Jeff are your friends, Wayne is a good uncle, friends to lovers trope, established friendship, you are the same age as Eddie, mutual pining, some fluff, some smut, two horny teenagers, drunk Eddie (not during any NSFW moments!!), slight switch!Eddie, slight switch!reader, grinding, dry humping, hickies, love bites, thighsss, hair pulling (male!receiving), slight choking if you squint (fem!receiving), no p in v sex, no intercourse, essentially just an intense make-out session, not a lot of proofreading.  
Word count: 5,000+
A/N: I hope this is something along the lines of what you were looking for. I kinda got carried away with creative liberties and this is what I came up with. I didn’t go into any heavy smut, but if you’d like a part two, I’m sure I can work something out.
Please do not steal my work. Do not repost without credit. This writing, besides the original content belonging to Stranger Things, belongs to me. 
Gareth―the drummer for Corroded Coffin, Hellfire Club member, and your friend, was sitting in the back seat of your car, strumming his fingers wildly against the headrest of Eddie’s seat. His eyes were clenched in intense song, while practically squealing the lyrics to Black Sabbath’s Paranoid, which was blasting from your car radio. Jeff, the band’s bassist, was grooving in his seat, occasionally laughing at his friend’s antics beside him. Eddie on the other hand―he was sitting in the passenger’s seat with his leg angled to the air, using the limb for an air guitar solo while enthusiastically mirroring the guitar's whine with his mouth. You could be seen driving behind the steering wheel, drumming your hands against its surface while bobbing your head to the rhythm; and undoubtedly pushing the speed limit by just a slight amount.
The road, besides the chaos erupting from your car, was relatively quiet. You had just picked up Eddie from his place, which was a little ways away from the rest of town. That’s why you were confident in driving down the stretch of open road—especially since you doubted anyone ahead would miss you, knowing that if there was an exact definition for ‘disturbing the peace’—you’d be it.
The lot of you were going to a small carpark on the other side of town—fully prepared to indulge in outcast behavior and full-teenage rebellion while enjoying the greatest extent Hawkins had to offer of rock’n’roll music and cheap beer. Apparently, Eddie had gotten an invite from someone in your senior class, who had graduated alongside you a few years prior. Eddie, unfortunately, had been held back for two years, but that didn’t hinder your friendship or his contact with his old friends. 
The reason why you were all funneled into one car was that only one of you was drive certified and reliable enough to get you all safely home. You had resigned yourself to becoming the night’s chauffeur, opting to stay sober so that your friends could get shit-faced instead.
After a moment of letting Eddie enjoy his fun, you slapped his foot away from the dash, “You can break your leg like that if we crash—” you playfully scolded.
“...Well?” Eddie started, dramatically turning his face towards yours, “—then, don’t crash.”
The rest of the car ride was more of the same. The group was shamelessly shouting along to metal lyrics, dancing to the hard rush of the drums and shrill shred of the guitar—booing once the tape came to an end... only to flip the cassette again and begin anew.
By the time the car was pulled in park, Eddie launched from the passenger’s side door with an air solo and the stage moves of a classic guitarist. Quite a few eyes were drawn to the charade, grinning at the burst of energy that the tall musician brought to the party. Jeff and Gareth were just as excited, but far more reserved than their club leader—though, they followed the boy nonetheless. So, they were slightly confused when the lanky guitarist staggered for a moment; the teen unusually holding himself in place. Their confusion was quickly corrected when they realized that he was eagerly waiting for you to take your place at his side, kicking into a full stride once he realized you were in tow with him.
The two boys exchanged a knowing look, withholding their laughter as they joined you and Eddie in your pursuit towards the makeshift stage. In the large patch of grass, a set of wooden pallets were aligned to form a surface raised from the dirt. Atop the shabby setup were a few unmanned instruments and a stereo system, connected to two comically large speakers. A gaudy, orange cable was hooked up to the electrical equipment—trailing through the grass and disappearing into a wooden shack that likely held yard-keeping tools.
“Ooo— freaky murder shed?” Eddie theorized in a ghostly voice, wiggling his fingers for added flair.
“Yeah, man...” Gareth huffed through a smile, “—go check it out!”
“He’s right, Eddie...” You coaxed in a voice, soaked in faux support. “Maybe if you go check it out, you can prove if it really is a murder shed?”
You drilled on with sarcastic enthusiasm, “—if you don’t come back, then I guess your theory ‘ll be proven correct?”
Eddie scoffed, covering his heart with his hand. “I’m starting to think that the murder shed belongs to you!” He concludes, pointing at you with an accusatory finger.
Jeff braced his arm in front of you, gasping with untamable excitement. “Someone’s about to play!” He hissed, repeatedly tapping your arm in hopes to gain your, already captured, attention.
The rest of the group looked to the stage, settling their eyes on the man who was hoisting his guitar strap over his head. The man was already making sure the guitar was in tune when Eddie clasped his hands on both of your shoulders, shaking you slightly while emanating joyous, animated laughter. You could feel the added twinge of pressure from his rings being pressed into your skin.
It wasn’t long before someone pressed play into the next song, kicking into one of the many of Judas Priest’s greatest hits. Not a second after, the guitarist began playing along—occasionally adding original renditions to spice up the, already, exhilarating atmosphere. The small crowd was absorbed into the moment; few simply nodded their heads to the tempo and others were all out throwing their body into the song. One could say that Eddie was a mixture of the two, a can of beer in hand, rocking his head and swinging his hips asynchronously to the music.
You loved seeing him like this—in his element, with little worries and lots of fun. If it meant that you had to take off work to ensure that he would be happy, you’d feel that it was worth it. Though, Eddie knew nothing of that—and you’d like to keep it that way.
You had stayed for nearly two-three hours, listening to different amateur musicians from in-and-around Hawkins, who came to strictly jam out to music and enjoy the cheap thrills of convenience store liquor. Most of the music was courtesy of a couple mixtapes, lent to the host by friends and a few people in the small crowd. Gareth was giddy, midway through his third beer and subsequently cut off when he tripped at a complete standstill. Of his pure volition, he was currently lying in the backseat of the car, taking the nap of his year while clutching an empty can to his chest like a child’s stuffed doll. Jeff chose to join him, stopping himself while still relatively sober, and leaning up against the car door. Eddie was well into his sixth or seventh, desperately trying to withhold the beverage from you when you tried to convince him that he’d appreciate the gesture in the morning.
His back was pressed onto a streetlamp and he lazily warped his body around yours, using one hand to hold you close while extending the other behind your back to protect his drink. “We can stay just a lil’ more...” he assured, his words a little slurred, but still easily understood. “—please?”
“If we stay any longer, I’m worried Gareth might evict me from my own car...” you purposefully whined, topping it off with a chuckle.
Eddie groaned, dramatically slumping his head onto your shoulder with a dull thud. “Pleaaase?” He grumbled, muffling his voice into your shirt to the point of barely being audible.
“I wanna stay with you longer...” He pressed, throwing his head back to exaggerate his words. You just managed to shield his head with your hand when it bumped against the metal pole, sounding a chime.
Admittedly, you enjoyed his current clinginess a little more than you should have. “You will, Eddie...” You explained, “I have to drop off Gareth and Jeff before you— so we can hang out as long as you want... in the car.”
Eddie allowed himself to slide down the pole slightly in defeat, sighing as he did so. He voiced his dreaded surrender in an octave so low, that it could barely be registered as words: “...alright.”
He drew in his arm with his beer; the can, wobbling slightly when his elbow dinged against the pole in a sloppy manner. He handed the beverage to you, gazing at it longingly once it was in your grasp.
You downed the little amount of liquid on your way to the car with your arm wrapped around his waist. Getting Eddie into the passenger seat wasn’t as difficult as you expected it to be— Eddie complied with your instructions after you patiently listened to his ramblings.
On the drive back, it was calmly quiet. Gareth was still sleeping, this time with his head leaned up against the window and his back to the seat. Jeff was naturally reserved, only ever breaking away from his thoughts when he heard Gareth emit a sleepy sound or snore. The car radio was on a lower volume, drilling out a muffled sound to accompany the roll of the tires against the road. Eddie was willing himself to stay awake through his growing drowsiness. His eyes were hooded with alcohol and he kept switching his attention from his reflection in the passenger’s side window, the road in front of you, and your face. He would make an occasional sound, whether it was a hum or the licking of his lips, likely to reaffirm to himself that he was there and not asleep. However, by the time Gareth and Jeff were both dropped off at Jeff’s house and you were on your way to Eddie’s, he was asleep. He had wrapped himself in his own embrace, hugging his arms snug around his chest—his head rocking lightly with every bump in the road.
When Eddie was woken up sometime around 3 am, he was pleasantly surprised to see your face in front of his. He was less energetic and playful while feeling the extent of his grogginess, as he was somewhat sobering up. But, seeing you managed to draw out that goofy side of him, even when his body tempted him back into sleep...
“Hello, gorgeous...” He smiled through closed eyes.
Before you could reply, he was dragging himself from the car seat. You would’ve helped him, but besides the slow pace to his movements, he seemed to be handling himself well.
Eddie’s uncle, Wayne Munson, must’ve heard your car pull up; because he stepped out the front door with a hand on his hip and the other around a cigarette. He didn’t seem particularly upset, just not very amused, with perhaps a hint of ‘worry’.
“You drunk?” He asked bluntly in an unenthused voice.
“—Hello, Wayne,” you politely waved. “He’s had a couple drinks, but I was sure to cut him off before he got too far. He didn’t drive— I think he should have some water though...”
“Hello, darlin’—” he greeted, with the hint of an appreciative smile.
Throughout this interaction, you had followed Eddie in his walk towards his front steps; trailing closely behind to support him with your hand on his back. He would occasionally get distracted, either by stumbling slightly or turning to mumble something to you. He would only return to walk forward if you reassured him that you had listened by giving him a response. Meanwhile, Wayne looked away at his feet to smile humorously, taking a drag between his lips.
Eddie finally made it to the top of the steps, waiting for his uncle to let him pass. “I got him, make sure you get home safely— alright?” Wayne geared toward you as he clapped his hand on his nephew’s shoulder.
Eddie practically groaned, turning to you with a disappointed look. You recalled your deal, convincing Eddie to leave the party with the promise that you would spend time with him afterward. But, Wayne seemed rather adamant that he would take care of things from here.
“Sorry, Eddie,” you apologized, genuinely feeling guilty about leaving the boy crestfallen and unfulfilled. “Get some rest, okay?—I’ll see you tomorrow.”
✝︎
By the time you were back in your driveway, your feet were sore from standing up for the hours that you had. For an unknown reason, you had peered into the backseat and spotted the can that Gareth had left behind. You had also left one or two crumpled-up, drive-through bags; as well as a few wrappers from the convenience store on your car bed. So, of course, that seemed proper reasoning to rid your car of the little bits of trash.
As you were gathering the pieces of litter, you noticed something jutting out from beneath the passenger’s seat. It wasn’t new to you, but was currently unfamiliar, especially in the setting of your car. You instinctively retrieved it, pulling it into view. The object was a hardcover, pocket journal, fitted in a brown material with golden stitching. Before you could even register the origins of the object, knowing who it belonged to, you had flitted it open to a random page.
“Small town America?” Was scrawled at the header of the page in messy handwriting. The rest of it was covered in short ramblings, rushed doodles, and chords for planned songs.
You turned to the next page, finding this entry to be labeled with your name. You should’ve stopped there, but your eyes were already searching on. Your actions—having been guided by both curiosity and instinct. The passage read:
I know that I’m doomed.
I should’ve given up a long time ago.
You’re one of my best friends... and I’ve registered by now that’s all you’ll ever see me as.
But, I can’t help it!
You were on my bed above the covers, and I saw your shirt ride up just a little to expose your lower back... and it was like I was set on fire! 
God, it’s pathetic!
You paused in your reading, your heart stuttering at the words. You knew now that you definitely shouldn’t be reading this―it was an invasion of privacy! But, some twisted part of you convinced you that it was okay... it was about you after all... you had a right to read it― didn’t you?
You must’ve felt me staring. You looked up at me and I swear it was like I couldn’t breathe.
I might be able to make a song with all the words I could use to describe how it feels to have you looking at me.
Those eyes of yours... they give me more of a rush than anything else.
You make me feel like I’m floating.
Even now, while I’m writing about you, my nerves are shot.
You snap the book shut on your thumb, marking the page. You were no fool to the possibility of these emotions... you weren’t innocent. And, while you’ve had these thoughts towards Eddie before, you tried not to indulge them. You didn’t allow yourself to question how you ultimately felt about him―though, deep down, you knew it was because you were worried about what they could be. Eddie and you had flirted in the past, though it wasn’t taken seriously. You had always held the inkling that there was something more there― but Eddie and you had talked about romance before. Never was the topic about the possibility of you two―so you just continued as friends... close friends!
But, reading this blew those feelings wide open. They were under a gleaming spotlight, outlined in chalk, impossible to bury back down again.
I close my eyes and I can see your lips. Fuck! Everything about you drives me crazy!
And I can’t do anything about it.
Your laugh, your smile, your body... don’t even get me started about that.
There’s so much that I wanna say. But, even now, I’m worried about what’ll happen if you ever see this. I feel guilty even writing it.
You have no clue how I feel. But, I can barely meet your eyes without thinking about it.
With that, the entry was concluded, and you knew that you had read too much. You wouldn’t dare breach his privacy any further, opting to close the journal and return it back to its owner. Your mind rushed with the possible reasoning to the situation in front of you― the journal must’ve slipped from Eddie’s pocket when he had lifted his leg to the dash earlier. That was the only logical explanation.
After locking your car and tossing out the trash, you readied yourself for bed. Waiting for sleep to take over you, you found yourself staring at the small journal on your bedside table. Adrenaline stole the sleep from you, waiting well into the hours of the morning until you were finally yielding to your slumber.
✝︎
The next day, Eddie was patiently waiting for you in his trailer after school. The usual routine was that you met at his place after you got out of work. In the instances where the schedule was changed, one of you would give the other a call. But, seeing as he had received no phone call from you, he was enjoying an afternoon coffee while strumming away at his guitar and awaiting your routine visit.
A knock sounded at his front door, to which he loudly granted permission for you to enter. The first thing he noted was the sight of your bare legs—revealed by the skirt of your work uniform. He had to rip his gaze away from the sight, reminding himself of self-control and respect for the sake of your dignity as his best friend. His room smelled like hastened spritzes of his cologne... and he wondered if that was to blame for the different atmosphere surrounding you. If perhaps, that was why there was a slight tension between your brows and a subtle curl to your nose? Ultimately, he abandoned the thought once words fell from your lips and your demeanor changed, as if he was only seeing things before.
“So, did Wayne give you any trouble last night?” you asked with a prodding smile.
“Nah,” Eddie lightly scoffed, falling into a groan. “—I think the hangover was punishment enough.”
“How’re you feeling now?” you quizzed, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
Your hand came to rest on his leg, which was crossed on his knee. He was leaning up against his headboard with his guitar in his lap. Eddie focused on that hand for a moment before formulating a reply, “I’m fine... nothing a cup of coffee can’t fix.” The skin beneath the fabric of his jeans burned under your touch, buzzing with activity.
“—everything good with you, though?” He asks, setting his guitar aside on the mattress before sitting up to face you. He passes it off as concern, but he knew he had to move to flee from your touch. Everything in him wanted your hand to remain on him, but that’s exactly why he had to move, to deny himself of your touch. Eddie briefly noticed a flutter in your composure at the close distance between the two of you. It was the faintest twitch— something minuscule. Yet, it had his focus, because no matter the importance, he was always enthralled by you.
You looked down to where your hand had previously met his leg, your expression filled with that of contemplation. He initially gazed upon you to anticipate your response, but it quickly became an excuse to study you without repercussion. He peered at your eyes behind the curtain of your lashes, looking away upon instinct when you briefly glanced up at him. He wanted to curse himself for bailing so quickly, promptly willing himself back to confidence as he returned his focus to your face. He thought he had regained his composure, but when he looked up to see you observing him, he couldn’t help but be stunned.
You were playing a harmless, little game. With the information you had learned last night, you were testing him— and the results were clear. What you had read, wasn’t a lie...
Eddie Munson was into you.
—and you had the advantage. You knew the whole truth— a truth that he didn’t have all the information to...
You liked him too.
Something flickered within your eyes, and Eddie found himself getting dragged into the swirling pool of your irises. Even when you turned to retrieve something from your back pocket, Eddie was stuck staring at the afterimage of your face. But, when you recaptured his attention with a small journal in your hand, he felt his heart leap in his chest.
You couldn’t even get a word in before Eddie shot to his feet, ripping his jeans from last night off his bedroom floor and frantically searching the pockets. His back was turned to you when he dropped the fabric, returning to its heap on the floor of his trailer.
“I didn’t know what it was when I first opened it...” You revealed, your voice laced with an apology. “—but, I realized midway through.”
Eddie wanted to leave. He wanted to stop time and erase all memory of the event. But, he plopped back onto the bed with a newfound tension in his muscles. His left hand was supporting his right, which he used to clasp over his face, peering at you through his spaced-out fingers.
“...what exactly—” Eddie managed to usher out, “—did you read?”
You studied him in his place, noticing how he tried to sit further from you than before. He looked smaller than usual, clenched in on himself, with a red tint to his face and an anxious smile on his lips. If you were to squint, you might’ve been able to make out that his eyes were somewhat watery from the uncertainty of the conversation.
Rather than make the situation more awkward than need be, you got straight to the point. With an empathetic smile, you replied, “...enough?”
Eddie could swear that he died then and there. A mournful groan fell from his lips, and his fingers closed together to shield his eyes, revealing more of the bashful shade to his cheeks. Nervous laughter bubbled from his lips, yet his smile looked pained from—what he assumed to be—an impending rejection.
Eddie was oblivious to your own nerves. Your body was charged with electricity as you prepared yourself for the agonizing feat of making your feelings known. All last night, you had pondered whether all this time, Eddie felt the same as you. But, even now, when you knew that he shared the same feelings as you, you were finding it impossible to take that step off the edge, which would leave you falling into the unforeseen future.
Eddie flinched when you placed your hand on his knee. He waited for you to say something—anything!—but, you simply glided your thumb back and forth atop the skin that peeked through his ripped jeans.
He strained his ears to hear the words rasped from your lips, “...I never knew that you felt the same.”
His whole body was jazzed with nerves, causing him to feel lightheaded and energized. His stubborn hangover now seemed non-existent, with adrenaline in its wake.
“I thought—you only saw ‘us’ as friends,” you nearly whispered. “—only to find out... we were both thinking the same things.”
He stared at you from behind his hand, a stunned expression on his face. He watched as you tried to stifle a laugh, biting away your smile with eyes that reflected your amusement. And, he nearly swooned when you finally voiced what he desperately wished to hear, “Eddie— I really like you...”
He sighed a shaky exhale, his head coming to a quick shake as he found himself in disbelief of the truth.
You used your hand on his knee to pull yourself closer, leaning against both of his bowed legs. Allowing your smile to fully shine through, you sounded, “I really do— I like you, Eddie.”
To make matters worse, he wanted to retreat in on himself when you began to teasingly quote from his journal entry. “—I’m doomed, Eddie.”
“Stop!” He chirped loudly in both horror and relief.
“You make me feel like I’m floating,” You didn’t relent, purposely coating your voice in a dazed romance. But, your act didn’t continue for long, unable to thwart the smile that was corrupting your face.
Eddie repeated the plea, this time while fighting off laughter and with a smile erupting on his lips. He quickly wrapped his arms around you, yanking you close before covering your mouth with his ring-clad hand to try and stifle your antics. With your figure laying atop his, this was the closest that either of you has ever been. Muffled laughter, rumbled from your lips and Eddie joined in.
Soon, Eddie stilled you. Out of breath with a blissed-out smile, he sighs, “I like you too—” He briefly presses his face to your hair, “But, you already knew that.”
Eddie finds himself transfixed by your gaze when you look into his eyes. Something has changed. The playfulness remains, but it turned darker. It was a look that you had only adorned when he was alone in thought, conjured by his imagination while he found himself giving into temptation. When his hand surveyed the expanse of his body and he used his mind to substitute it for yours. An act, which made him feel guilty, yet thrilled, whenever he saw you next... wondering what you would have thought if you knew the full context of how he viewed you.
But, this time it was different. You were truly in front of him, with his hands wrapped around you, and your eyes tearing into him. So forgive him— forgive him for immediately growing warm at your sultry gaze and the plush feel of your lips beneath his skin. Especially when he felt you plant a soft kiss on the surface of his palm, your lips quirking at the edges in amusement after hearing him sigh in delight—All with your eyes never leaving his.
“Don’t—” Eddie grinned with hooded eyes, a playful smirk upon his lips. “...don’t do that” He resisted all temptation to bring his hand to his lips, to indulge in a kiss to the spot that yours touched his skin.
After a moment of being engaged in a staring contest wracked with tension, he used that same hand to encase your chin in a delicate grip. He guided your face towards him, and you progressed the rest of the way. What was supposed to be a rough, passionate kiss, started off faint and gentle. But with one tug of his bottom lip between your teeth, the two of you breathed one another in and gave into desire. He elicited a moan, muffled by your tongue. And, it was as if the wire that held together his control, snapped. His hand clenched around your thigh, digging roughly into your skin as he growled into your mouth. The low sound diluted into a whimper when he broke away for a gasp of air, returning to attack your lips again. He couldn’t figure out exactly what it was that he wanted, he only knew that you had been something he craved for so long that his movements were becoming just as frenzied as his thoughts.
The hand that was cradling your jaw, fell down to rest against your neck, fumbling lightly at your skin. And without any music to break the silence, the room was only filled with the sound of your combined pants. But, he’s thankful for the lack of ambiance, he’s absorbing the sound of your faint moans like it's the best melody that he’s ever heard. Each sound that tumbles from your mouth only drags one from himself, and he chastises himself for it because his noises sound 10x needier and more desirous than yours. But, he can’t help it— he can’t help the lecherous ache that you make him feel. He can’t help the heat in his loins that erupts from merely being in the vicinity of you. Nor can he help the pulse in his neck, which thrums with warm blood at the scent of you.
Just with the thought, he lurches away from the kiss as if he were burned. Both of his arms bring you into a tight embrace, wrapped around your torso as he buries his face into the expanse of your chest. His pants come to a close as you hear him inhale your scent in a slow, languid breath. As he breathes you in, his hips synchronously come to a rise, lifting you with him. And his exhale twisted into a whine as his body lightly shivered.
“—god!” he choked. “...you drive me insane.” The words nearly came out as a sob, filled with an exerted desperation as his eyes drifted to a close.
You mentally noted that now, it was your turn. Your turn to bask in the moment, as Eddie had. The skin on his neck tensed when you cleared it of his hair, brushing it away with your fingers. His body spasmed when you lapped at the pulse beneath his neck, suckling on the skin to paint it with a puckered bruise.
A stretched-out curse fell from Eddie’s lips, followed by the ghostly whisper of your name. His head rolled on his shoulders, granting you better access to his neck as his eye squinted in pleasure. You savored each nip of his skin, lapping at the sensitive blemishes with a gentle kiss. By the time you were done, his neck was peppered in intricate splashes of color. His jaw was slack with haggard breaths and his eyes were fighting to look at you through his apparent haziness.
He brought one hand to the small of your back, pressing your body into his while the other hand kneaded into the plush of your thigh. He rutted against you, oblivious to his movements as his mind was solely focused on the sweet soreness of his skin from your merciless bites against his neck. He was still in a daze when you ran your fingers up the back of his spine and into his hair, tugging lightly at the roots to pull him taut and vulnerable. He lustfully gasped in shock, chuckling to try and distract you from his blatant arousal. You teased at his adam’s apple with your tongue, dragging a blissed whimper from the boy in between his quiet hum of shy laughter. 
“Now that I know we’re on the same page, Eddie...” you drawled out while brushing your lips against the rough of his throat, up to the underside of his chin. “—you have no idea what I’m gonna do to you...”
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cjkie22 · 4 months
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A non-exhaustive list of why you should listen to hit dirtbag boyband Bears in Trees:
their music is really amazing. you'll love it.
especially if your Spotify wrapped was on the pov: indie side of things
and even if it wasn't.
songs for every emotion
absolutely beautiful lyrics
sometimes these lyrics make sense. sometimes they don't. that's part of the fun.
songs about platonic love !!!!!
songs for the queers! the aros! the aces! the enbies! the trans community!
my dad likes them. doesn't sound like a lot, but it's an achievement.
(more underneath the break)
iain (bass/vox/lyrics) has "ginger" tattooed on the back of their head. if that isn't iconic I don't know what is.
on the note of iain, they were the first person i was aware of that used they as a pronoun, and that changed my life
they have a discord server! it's a really lovely community. i am not biased in the slightest. (discord.gg/sandbox) (https://discord.com/invite/thesandbox) (i will personally send you an invite i don't actually know what the link is)
they should DEFINITELY be on the heartstopper soundtrack
if I'm remembering correctly in the tiktok where they said they should be on the heartstopper soundtrack, they also said 3 out of 4 of them were in some way queer. seems like a good thing to me.
they opened for you me at six earlier this year. it was my first time seeing them live. and WOW.
I met some of my best friends through this band. I'm not joking; big shout out to the mojo dojo castle house, I'll never forget that weekend.
they're hilarious on the internet
you might cry at several of their songs for a million different reasons
BearBerry records
they have a tumblr blog @/bearsintreesofficial (iirc). I'm not gonna tag them but
BiT gigs are a safe space. I may have almost fainted at my last one (new cross inn, August 2023) but I've never met so many kind strangers and genuinely lovely people
merch is super comfy and really cute.
it gives stardew valley and animal crossing (trust me I'm right)
after the new cross gig (sweatiest gig in the world), despite surely being exhausted, callum (uke/keys/vox) took my bereal and i got my mini lesbian flag signed by them all
I turned out not to be a lesbian, which possibly makes it funnier, but the flag is stuck on my wall still
cryptids would LOVE their band
dash.
there's also a community minecraft server for discord members
BiT postcards !!!!
gosh and the bit stickers
they covered stick season on an Instagram live
they also do the funniest twitch streams
iain and the mountain
the raccoon email address
george (drums/production) is elite. the drum fills in doing this again? iconic. also has a specific really cool shirt I want to steal
wedding. dress. tiktok.
callum doesn't wear shoes on stage. apparently this was common knowledge but it sure surprised me at new cross.
the austrian soft drinks advert
iain make up looks
callum plays the flute. I want to say classically trained flautist but i may be wrong.
none of them have EVER bribed any members of law enforcement
their songs are very tattooable
talking of tattoos, nick (lyrics/guitar/saw him play the uke on stage once) has L + R tattooed on his forearms (iirc). absolute genius and I am stealing it when I get more of my patchwork sleeve done
iain releases solo music to under the name pet yeti. it's ethereal. callum also plays flute on one of them.
trumpet joe
the four of them never look like they are dressed for the same event
someone once edited the bears in trees wiki page to say that Ryan Ross was in their band
silly geese
that time we got singing? poetry? performance art? of THAT harry potter fanfiction
according to tiktok, iain and nick once had to sneak into their own show because they were underage
nurby
I have a video in the depths of my camera roll of them covering Mama by My Chemical Romance on a twitch stream
sonick
all of them give me gender envy at different times
their newest single (bart's bike) features banjo
patreon content
yelling it gets better with a room full of people was a healing experience.
tilly
modern baseball and fall out boy adjacent in my brain
if you like bears in trees you're automatically hot and really cool
they did a song with noahfinnce and its really super good
callum also featured on a myriad song which is also really super good
bit songs feel like coming home. they feel like hot chocolate and a blanket on a cold night. they feel like a warm hug. they feel like surviving and falling in love with life again and overcoming the worst things. they feel like victory, because you didn't think you'd make it to adulthood. but I'm 20 now. and I'm still here. I've almost graduated uni. and that's what bears in trees feels like.
all of their songs!!!! amazing!!!!
please feel free to add to this list. I'm taking suggestions.
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phoenixcatch7 · 5 months
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Thinking about possible totk dlc again... Listen, we all know we want it XD.
Thing is, I've read the interviews, and I think Nintendo is right. There's just no more mechanics they can add to the game without completely breaking it. Totk is maxxed out on mechanics and options and playability. There really is nothing more they can add ability wise without bogging the whole thing down and causing a million problems, both for themselves and players.
But that's not all there is in a game, is there?
There's master mode, for one. Gold enemies are missing from totk entirely, never mind all the craziness of regenerating enemies, new mob camps just floating around, the gleeok they'd probably put on the great sky island. People loved master mode in botw, there's no reason not to at least drop that button back in.
But... People do have a few complaints. There's stuff they're missing, stuff that leaves loose ends, stuff that wasn't explained well enough. It all mostly boils down to one thing.
Story.
We could have an answer to where the divine beasts and all the sheikah tech went. We could find a giant scrapyard at the bottom of a new/old chasm because hyrule tossed everything in that could be pried up. There could be like five remaining active guardians, just so we can mess them up like we did in botw. There's voids where water is on the surface, there's plenty of space! It'd solve both the 'where tf did they go' and the 'man I wish we still had guardians' issue in one fell swoop.
We could get casual dialogue that all the divine beasts were driven out to sea and sunk! I don't know! Some sort of closure! We could talk about generational trauma responses! The instinctive fear of sheikah tech if there is one! Link is certainly canonically traumatised, did you see him with the first sky tower??
We could get wolfie back! Update his teleportation code so he can keep up with our stupid endeavours and not get caught in crossfire! Make him immune to zonai tech, idk.
We could get a resolution to kass and Penn! That whole storyline ended so sadly, and the lack of kass is straight up disturbing. We could rescue him from the depths where he fell in or smth idk!! Just because you're a bird does NOT mean you can fly a kilometer + straight up in pitch black through a narrow cylinder with lethally toxic sides. Now he's got enough material for life! (and probably trauma. The only food down there is stuff the yiga brought, which - well, it's not like they'd worry about thieves down there.
That stupid chef from lookout landing who ran off to the castle. That's TOTALLY a quest come on :(. Let him come home.
More lookout landing expansion, if you're desperate for stuff that isn't 90% dialogue! Please let me install bigger towers and a bathing area and more shops or SOMETHING. Little outlet stalls from every capital! Let me rebuild the first home in castle town! I! D! K!
More newspaper news! We could randomise it like the spider man ps4 news feed, that was hilarious. Absolute hogwash rumours and stupid feuds between neighbours and the results of pumpkin growing competitions! Mix it up, traysi had bonkers stuff, it was so good. What does life look like from inside the world?
Hylia gossip? We know she doesn't keep strictly to her 'find shrine rewards for increased gains, link' thing. Let her ask link for random stuff for 'power buffs' and give him, like, a random buff that lasts precisely 24 minutes.
Maybe even a 'now we opened the plateau again, people want to investigate' side plot. No one wanted to see :(. I didn't like that the only people up there were yiga :((. Send some new research team dude to wax lyrical and beg link for photos of different areas or symbols.
Gloom hands should be able to attack link in the depths. This would solve nothing and in fact make things much worse, but it happened to me twice and it was so much worse than on the surface lol.
Maybe some idiot managed to make it to a Sky island with balloons but now they can't get down, whoops lol. Some of them really aren't that high up and there's a lot of very determined people XD.
Someone's been captured by the yiga and link has to do a full infiltration and smuggle them the keys to their cell. Come on, the yiga base is underutilised!!
The gerudo stable was being shut down because of the sandstorm turning away travellers. After we solve that, maybe we could help reopen it? It made me so sad...
Link vs the flower lady. She wants a sample of every single flower in hyrule to get it all nice for her majesty! She remembers his crimes...
Link and the new sages could have a silly bonding quest each! Let him test his mettle against them in a spar! I don't know!
The ability to pet dogs and horses! An idle sitting animation that makes link sit down properly to enjoy the view!
Heck, a master cycle equivalent....
There's just a almost infinite amount of options available for real, actual content, it doesn't just have to be new mechanics and new dungeons. Yes, it gets the adrenaline going, but neither the fans nor Nintendo want nor need more of that.
We know the story is more lacking in botw/totk than previous zelda games, an understandable and acceptable sacrifice when you're working with such a huge and complex open world as this, but this is the perfect opportunity to fix that, Nintendo, don't you see? Give that incredibly elaborate coding a break and give the writers something else to chew on.
Tag what quest line or question you want answered in the comments or tags!
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