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#or why this old song is so much better than all the music coming out today
sillyfudgemonkeys · 1 year
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My brain needs to pick a lane on what brain worms it wants to have. TT0TT Is it P5X? DDS? P4? P4 Manga? MCM? Raidou? Something else? Pick a lane and stick to it! TT0TT
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dr3c0mix · 11 months
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What does goth man look like 👁️👁️
whaT DO THE ZOMBIES LOOK LIKE???
this reminded me that i had a wip of the zombie horde in my procreate ghhghhhghgh but i want to give yall a little more than that so im also throwing in some headcannons and stuff from when they were alive &lt;3 <3 <3
💀 Ribs' hair is bleached blonde! It also has a faint smell of weed, hmm.
💀 Just as he is now, he was very hyper. He used to go to a lot of parties and raves. He was actually at a beach concert when he got infected.
💀 He reacts to rock music, if you play a song near him, he’ll turn to where the sound is coming from and go to it and hop around happily, it’s a good way to find him if you loose him in the mall.
💀 Screw looked like he was a scavenger like you before turning into a zombie, you found old cans of food and an almost empty flask of water in his bag amidst things he probably picked up, things he very much didn’t need anymore in his current state.
💀 He and Ribs found a pair of scissors in your drawers once and you came back to your bunker to Ribs cutting Screw’s hair. They both just stared at you with Screw’s hair all over the floor, that’s why his hair looks a bit choppy.
💀 He gets cold easily somehow so he clings onto you the most, the others are a little jealous..
💀 Soda has a lot of burn scars on his shoulder, you make it a point to not use fire around him as he chirped and cooed worryingly when you lit a match to warm some food.
💀 His hair is surprisingly soft, a bit dry but it isn’t as covered in blood and dirt like the others.
💀 his shirt is slightly in better shape than the rest of his clothes, he’s probably had to change it after a while.
💀 Bo looks like he’s lasted longer than the others considering his supposed military experience and a bandage present on his leg ever before finding him, he’s had in on for a while.
💀 The sides of his face are scratches and torn, revealing his teeth underneath, it makes it hard to chew sometimes but that’s why he focuses more on getting the others food more than himself.
💀 He’s a bit of an attention seeker so if you see him beekeeping the others in line or doing something good, please praise him, he’ll be so happy. The others tease him for it because he resembles a dog when he leans down for you to pat his head.
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Anyway here’s your funny little zombos !! Hope you like how they turned out ! I promise to give y’all a proper drawing of goth next time too!
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megalony · 2 months
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Little Bird
This is a new Evan Buckley imagine that is going to have a follow up or two if you all like it. I hope everyone will enjoy this one, feedback is always appreciated.
Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf
Evan Buckley Masterlist
Part 2
Summary: Evan starts to find himself falling for his new neighbour and her little girl. And he will do anything he can to help them when they need him.
Enjoy.
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"No- baby be careful, please?" A sigh rumbled past (Y/n)'s lips and she hung her head low while she followed after her daughter.
Why did she have to have so much energy? Why did she have to speed off when she knew (Y/n) couldn't keep up? She knew going fast wasn't good on (Y/n)'s heart and combined with her vertigo, (Y/n) had a mile per hour ratio that she couldn't go above.
(Y/n) sucked in a deep breath and lifted her head as she followed Birdie out the sliding door and onto the balcony.
Having a balcony was something Birdie was enraptured with. They moved in two weeks ago and the little girl was over the moon to have a balcony, since they couldn't have a back garden. The three year old had wanted to have a garden to put flowers in and to feed the birds, but now she had changed her mind and thought the balcony was much better.
It was spacious, they had a table and chairs out on the balcony, two hanging baskets, window-ledge baskets around the railing and two bird feeders. Every morning they would feed the birds and water the plants and then Birdie would beg to go to the park to feed the birds and run about to play with them.
"Mummy, water." Birdie held up her small aqua blue watering can and grinned when (Y/n) poured water from the kitchen jug into it for her.
To stop Birdie from leaning over the balcony, (Y/n) would water the hanging baskets and Birdie would water the window baskets. They were hung on the inside of the balcony rail rather than over the edge so Birdie didn't have to lean over and risk falling or having an accident.
She climbed up onto one of the garden chairs and knelt up, humming to herself as she watered the pansies that varied from pink to blushing purple.
(Y/n) pushed up on her tiptoes and watered the two hanging baskets on either side of the balcony. Her eyes kept moving over to watch Birdie on the chair in the left corner. She was starting to hum the song playing on the radio, but (Y/n) realised it wasn't their radio playing. Their new neighbour was playing his music rather loud, but it was one of Birdie's favourite songs.
"Pigeon! Look mummy," Reaching across the table, Birdie grabbed a handful of birdseed from the plastic tub (Y/n) had got ready.
"Don't climb on the table!"
(Y/n) hurried over and picked Birdie up before she wobbled or toppled the table over. The last thing she needed was her daughter crashing through the table or breaking her arm.
"Put the food in, and they'll come to you. See?" (Y/n) held Birdie high enough to put the seed in her hand into the rectangle feeder. She set her toddler back down on the floor and re-filled her watering can so she could finish their morning task.
A wave of dizziness washed over (Y/n) just as she finished filling both feeders and Birdie climbed onto the chair again to spy for the birds. She reached her hand out to steady herself on the door so she didn't fall. Vertigo only amplified (Y/n)'s heart problems. She suffered with fluctuating blood pressure that usually dropped too low. And her heart didn't pump blood around her body quickly enough because one of the valves in her heart was loose.
It meant (Y/n) suffered with a lot of headaches, dizzy spells which led to falls and bruises, and a lot of fainting spells.
Her hand bashed into the glass door and she leaned against it to keep herself upright while she tried to take deep breaths. She didn't see Birdie move until suddenly her daughter was in front of her, wrapping both arms around (Y/n)'s legs and looking up at her with those big green eyes.
"I help." She murmured quietly into (Y/n)'s legs and (Y/n) wasn't sure if she wanted to try and hold (Y/n) up so she didn't fall, or if she wanted to help feed the birds again.
Either way, Birdie leaned into (Y/n) who in turn had to lean further on the door.
A gasp broke past her lips when the door moved. (Y/n) fell backwards, landing on the floor with a thump as her shoulders bashed into the glass door and Birdie landed on her legs with a giggle.
(Y/n) took a deep breath and blinked furiously until it cleared the spots that danced in front of her eyes. She reached her hand down and rubbed up and down Birdie's back as she pushed to sit up. But when (Y/n) turned to the right and looked at the door, her shoulders slumped and she groaned.
"Oh no."
The door had shut. It had a safety lock; once it was shut the lock turned and it couldn't be opened without turning the key, which was on the inside.
They were locked out on their balcony.
"Mummy?"
"The door's locked… and my phone is inside." Reaching her hands out, (Y/n) shifted Birdie so she was sat on the floor, giving (Y/n) the room to slowly stand up and ward off the lightheaded feeling that swallowed her.
She had left her phone on the sofa next to her laptop. She should have put her shoe or a toy in the doorway to prevent them both from being locked out. But they had never had an apartment with a balcony before and (Y/n) didn't think they would get locked out here. She couldn't get inside, they were five stories high, and she didn't have her phone to call for help.
Would people down on the street hear if she called down? Would they listen, or would they think she was a silly rambler or a girl playing a prank?
Maybe she was going to have to try and break the glass door to get back inside. What could she hit it with?
The neighbour.
The new neighbour, he had his balcony door open. (Y/n) could hear his radio blasting out music, surely that meant he was home? Or was he in the habit of leaving his radio on and his balcony door open when he went out? No one would scale the side of the building to break into an apartment, it was foolish and they would be caught out. Surely he had to be home.
"I think we need to try and call out for the new neighbour."
(Y/n) leaned over the left side of the balcony and tried to see into the next door neighbour's balcony. There was a two foot gap between their balconies which wasn't a lot, but there was no way (Y/n) would risk climbing over, not without permission or the neighbour knowing. It would be her luck to scare him and then fall.
"Um… excuse me? Hello?" She pressed her hands down on the thick metal rail and tried to lean across.
A smile danced across her lips when she watched Birdie climb up onto the chair beside her and look over. The toddler shook her watering can over the edge until it sprayed a splattering stream of water across onto the other balcony to try and catch his attention.
(Y/n) had only met him once. He was the image of a tall, handsome stranger with a melting smile and a sweet, almost lovesick expression that made (Y/n)'s knees go weak.
She was sure his name was Evan, but she didn't want to call out to him just in case it wasn't him who was at home. (Y/n) had no idea if he lived on his own, if he was married or had a roommate. She didn't want to make more of a fool of herself than she was about to if someone heard her call for help.
"Excuse me?"
"Neighbour!" Birdie squealed and chucked a handful of birdseed across and watched it scatter across the other balcony floor and spray against the window. It made a clinking sound as it hit the glass window and repelled off out into the air.
Panic and confusion dwelled in the pit of Evan's stomach when he looked out towards the window.
He finished his twentieth sit-up and took a deep breath, feeling the sweat roll down the back of his neck. He tore the headphones from his ears and pushed up from the floor so he could go over to the balcony.
Evan always left the door open when he was doing a work-out. He had the radio on in the background and his headphones in so he could listen to a podcast and have music in the background. His mind needed to be dulled down with so many different noises to keep him calm and focused. And he forgot he'd left the radio on.
Sweat trickled down his forehead and made his black gym shirt stick to his back while his shorts flagged around his knees. He padded across to the balcony and looked around to see what had hit the window.
Birdseed.
Why the Hell did he have seeds on his balcony? The birds didn't tend to drop their food when they flew over. And someone couldn't have thrown it this high up. Did his upstairs neighbour drop some?
"Neighbour!" A high-pitch squeal caught Evan's attention and he headed out into the sunshine and glanced around.
When his eyes landed on a vibrant little girl, clutching a watering can to her chest, his lips curved up into a grin. And his eyes narrowed when he looked over at the other girl on the balcony. His new neighbour. (Y/n). The girl who apparently worked from home, although Evan wasn't sure what job she did to do that.
"Did uh… did you want me, for something?" He approached the edge of the balcony and leaned his elbows down as he stared across at the two of them.
"I'm sorry, but we've… we're locked out here, the door shut on us. Can you help us, please?"
The smile on Evan's face softened and he leaned to take a quick look over at the door. It was the same as his. He always kept a block of wood in front of the door when he was out here, he didn't want to risk getting stuck on the balcony, just like them.
"Is your front door open?" Evan ran his hand across his chin and jaw when (Y/n) shook her head. "I can get you both over the rail and into my flat, then we can find a way to get you back inside. How's that?"
"Thank you."
(Y/n) wasn't sure she had ever felt so relieved or happy to have a stranger's help.
"Okay." Evan clapped his hands together and pushed up, leaning his hips against the railing so he could plant his hands down on their balcony instead of his own. He locked his eyes on the little girl who couldn't have been more than four years old.
She had wide green eyes that looked like the sea that they could scarcely see in the background view from their windows. He watched her set down her watering can and push up, leaning as close as she could until their noses were almost touching.
"What's your name, beautiful?"
"Birdie." Her tongue poked between her teeth and she perched her chin on her hands, clearly flustered at the attention.
"That's a lovely name. Everybody calls me Buck." His eyes danced across to (Y/n) before he looked back at Birdie. "Can I pick you up?"
(Y/n) pressed her hand against Birdie's back and nodded so she knew it was okay. She wasn't the best around strangers because she would talk to anyone. Birdie thought everyone was safe and talking to strangers was normal, she was too trusting. But Evan seemed safe.
He smiled brightly as he carefully held Birdie's small waist and lifted her up off the chair she was standing on. Her hands clenched down around his forearms and she held tight as he pulled back and hoisted her quickly over the balcony so he didn't scare her.
"There you go." Evan set her down on her feet beside him, but he stayed crouched in front of her when she didn't let him go. "You stay there for me, beautiful, and I'll get your mum over. Okay?" He nudged her until she was near the door so she wasn't anywhere near the balcony rail. He didn't want to take any chances.
(Y/n) sucked in a deep breath and punctured her teeth down into her lower lip as she looked over the edge. It wasn't a big leap over, two feet separated the wide railings and going over the side like this wasn't dangerous when they had another six feet of railing spread out to the right.
But she didn't do well with heights in any sense of the word when her vertigo came into play.
"You're safe, you know. I'm a fireman, this is kind of my day to day stuff." Evan held his hands out and gripped (Y/n)'s hands tight when she gingerly reached out for him.
"I should probably let you know that I have vertigo, shouldn't I?"
"Oh, now you tell me."
The way Evan smiled and laughed made (Y/n)'s lips curve into a grin despite the panic she felt as she pushed up onto her knees on the railing. Her chest ignited with adrenaline and a shiver coursed down her spine when Evan let go of her hands so he could cup the back of her thighs.
Her hands immediately clamped down on his shoulders and she tilted her chin down until their noses were almost touching as Evan stared up at her.
"I'd rather you didn't stand up, if you're at risk of a wobble." He murmured quietly, unable to breathe properly when he stared up at her.
He pulled her closer and grinned when her chest merged with his and he turned to the left and pulled (Y/n) with him. He carefully swung her over the rail and turned to set her down next to him.
"Oh," (Y/n) tightened her hands on his shoulders and flopped her head forward onto Evan's chest when she felt the blood drain down to her toes. She felt his hands move to hold her hips and he mumbled "deep breaths," into her ear and (Y/n) swore she could feel him smiling against the shell of her ear.
"Okay?" His thumb brushed up and down (Y/n)'s hip and he leaned back to look down at her when she finally took a step back and held herself upright.
"Hm, I- I'm sorry-"
"No apologies, you're all good." After a few seconds of lingering, Evan finally found the courage to pull his hands away and place them on his own hips where it was safer.
He looked down at Birdie when she gingerly pulled on the hem of his shorts to gain his attention. "You a fireman?"
"I am."
Evan couldn't stop the way he smiled when she reached out for his hand. She didn't know him at all and yet she was smiling up at him like she had known him all her life. He kept his gaze on her as he motioned for her to head inside, feeling (Y/n) close behind him as they trailed back into his apartment.
"You drive the truck, with wee-woo noises on?" Her beady eyes took in his apartment like she was inspecting it for something and it made Evan chuckle. He wasn't sure what she thought she would find. Maybe she figured his apartment should be bright shades of red and white, like the trucks. Or she thought she would find a toy firetruck somewhere or his helmet and a fire pole to slide down.
"I can drive the truck sometimes, yeah. If your mum wants, I could show you around the station…" Evan crouched down until he was Birdie's level and he let her keep hold of his hand. "You can sit in the truck if you like, too."
Her wide smile told him he had just made a new friend.
***
Throwing the teatowel over his shoulder, Evan turned off the oven and reached in to take out the lasagne he'd made. It was starting to become a ritual that on his days off, Evan would make some of Bobby's recipes and see if he could get up to scratch with Bobby's level of cooking.
He was doing well so far, but everything he made was always missing something. Evan wasn't sure whether it was his level of perfection that was holding him back, but he was sure he missed things out on everything he made. No one else seemed to think so.
The lasagne he'd just made would probably be split so Eddie and Chris could have some. God knew Eddie wasn't the best chef in the world.
Evan hummed along to the music playing on the radio, but his lips pulled into a frown when a rapid knock on the door brought him out of his thoughts.
He wasn't expecting anyone.
He knew Maddie and Chimney were both at work today and Hen didn't often come by his place unless they had set up to go out drinking. And Chris would be finishing school soon so it couldn't be Eddie stopping by either.
He took the teatowel from his shoulder and tossed it on the counter before he made his way through the kitchen, towards the front door.
"Fireman!"
A bright smile lit up Evan's features the moment he opened the door and looked down. It was Birdie. The three year old had her hair up in a ponytail at the back of her head and with her hair being thin, it sprayed out behind her like she had been electrocuted.
She was wearing a pale pink Minnie Mouse shirt that was covered in flour and what Evan guessed was a drink she had spilled.
"Hey little bird, are you okay?" Evan took a quick peek down the hall to the left before he looked back down at Birdie. Her apartment door was open. Maybe (Y/n) had let Birdie wander down here to ask Evan something.
He knew now that (Y/n) was a writer which allowed her to work from home so when Birdie wasn't at nursery, (Y/n) was always there to look after her.
It had been a frightening surprise last week when he'd just come home from a night shift. By chance, he went to open the balcony door and heard (Y/n) scream. Birdie had been trying to climb up onto the rail. She wanted to see Evan so badly she thought the best way was to climb over the railing and get into his apartment like they had done the first time.
Evan had politely told her if she ever wanted to see him, she should just knock on the front door. It was much safer and if he was home, he would always answer the door to her.
"Yeah," Birdie reached up to take Evan's hand in both of hers and started swinging it back and forth until he crouched down in front of her. "Can you help?"
"What do you need help with?" He couldn't refrain from smiling when Birdie focused on his hand and started to trace her finger across the lines in his palm. Despite how shy Birdie seemed, she had attached herself to Evan straight away. If they bumped into each other in the hall or outside, she would run across to him and grab him.
She squealed and clapped if she saw him out on the balcony at the same time as her and (Y/n). Something Evan admittedly was doing on purpose because he knew what time they went out to water the plants and feed the birds.
Evan wanted an excuse to see them both and he loved the way Birdie would smile when she saw him. He was starting to find that the more he bumped into (Y/n), the brighter his mood became. He liked (Y/n)'s smile. He liked the way she would brush her hair anxiously behind her ear whenever they talked. He liked her laugh and her humour and the random things she would come out with.
"You a fireman, so can you help mummy?"
"Why, what does mummy need help with? She's not on the balcony again, is she?"
"She fell over, and now she asleep." Birdie kept hold of Evan's hand as he pushed up onto his feet again and reached his free hand out to grab his keys.
If (Y/n) had fallen, Evan would take a guess that she had fainted rather than knocked herself out. When she told him about her weak heart valve, he asked Hen about the symptoms and what it meant. It didn't sit well with Evan that (Y/n) was alone next door with Birdie.
Not in a bad sense, but in a sense that she didn't have any family out here and she didn't know many people. Evan knew it would be safer for her if she had a safety net, a support network of people in case something like this happened or she was ill or needed help looking after Birdie or herself. It was why Evan told her if she ever needed anything, she should come round and talk to him.
"Okay, let's go help her."
He closed the front door behind him and let Birdie keep a tight grip on his hand. She led him down the hall as if he didn't know how to get to her apartment.
The pair of them wandered into the apartment and Evan took a moment to glance around.
Every time he had seen the girls, they had either been outside or they had come into Evan's apartment. He had never been in their home before.
There were a lot of fake plants dotted around in a variety of colours and the kitchen was a lovely mint blue colour that added a lot of light into the space. When Birdie guided him past the stairs and towards the living room at the back of the apartment, Evan stared in wonder.
There was a reading corner behind the stairs. Stickers littered the wall, book quotes, stickers of open books and story characters and a rainbow. There was a dark blue beanbag and a bookshelf and hanging from the ceiling were a variety of paper birds and hanging felt birds.
And then there was (Y/n).
There was a desk in the other corner of the room behind the sofa with a lot of notebooks, highlighters, pens and stickers littering the top of the desk along with a laptop.
Either (Y/n) had tried to stand up and went lightheaded or she felt funny before she moved. She was now laid on the floor a foot away from her desk chair with her hair half-covering her face and her body slumped on her left side. It was almost as if she had tried to get herself into the recovery position before she passed out.
"Why don't you sit there, little bird, while I help your mum." Evan picked Birdie up and gently sat her down on her beanbag so she could still see him but she wasn't in the way either.
Once she was settled, Evan turned round and knelt down behind (Y/n)'s back. He could feel Birdie's eyes on him but it wasn't unpleasant or anything new, he was used to being observed when he was at work.
He hooked his finger around a tendril of hair and brushed it behind (Y/n)'s ear and the pad of his finger delicately brushed over her cheek before he shook his head and snapped back into focus. His index and middle fingers pressed against (Y/n)'s neck just below her jaw and he looked down at his watch, counting the beats per minute.
Slow, but that was to be expected with (Y/n)'s heart condition. An elevated pulse would be more worrying.
He hovered his hand over the middle of (Y/n)'s chest, level with her sternum and pressed down just enough to feel how she was breathing. Shallow, but her breaths were starting to get a little deeper which was good.
"(Y/n)? Love, can you hear me?"
Evan curled his hand into a fist and started to rub his knuckles up and down her sternum to try and bring her back round. When he felt her head nudge back against his other arm, he found himself smiling down at her softly.
"Come here," He murmured quietly. He slipped his left arm beneath her shoulders and carefully lifted her up off her side. She stayed limp and floppy in his arms but he was sure he heard her try to mumble something. He held her waist and eased her back up against his chest, letting her head flop back onto his shoulder.
Sitting up would help her wake up, the last thing Evan wanted was for her to wake up lying down and then faint when she sat up and the blood drained from her head again.
"That's better, how do you feel?" Evan rubbed his hand up and down (Y/n)'s arm to keep her focused and concentrating on waking back up. While his other hand moved back to her neck so he could keep a check on her pulse.
"B-Birdie…" (Y/n) tried to open her eyes but they rolled to the back of her head when all the colours meshed together like a canvas that had been drenched in water. Her head was pounding. She could feel the blood rushing back to her temple and it hurt. It always hurt. It would take a few minutes for her system to settle and for her head to come down from the clouds.
"She's here, she's safe. She came round to get me when you fainted."
A shiver tore down Evan's spine when (Y/n) fumbled to reach her right hand up until she could slump her arm on his shoulder and cup the back of his neck. He watched her lips curve into a tepid smile and when her head lolled to the right, she tried again to look up at him and focus on him.
"She got our fireman." Her voice was weak and croaky, but Evan made out her words and it sent his heart crashing through his ribs and hammering blood through each vessel in his body.
He was their fireman. That was how both of them thought of him and that thought made him high on adrenaline.
"Yes she did." He couldn't speak very loud, Evan didn't trust his voice because he knew it would give away how he felt about her. "Um, you, you didn't hurt yourself when you fell, did you?" Evan tripped over his words and let his eyes dance up and down (Y/n)'s frame to check for any injuries.
She could have hurt herself in multiple places if she landed the wrong way or went down with a bang. Evan didn't know if (Y/n) had managed to lower herself down or if she went down like a ton of bricks.
"No,"
(Y/n) danced her eyes across to her daughter and tried to smile when Birdie got up and trotted over towards the kitchen. She would most likely find her beaker of juice or watch the birds out the window for a while. But God knows if Evan tried to leave without telling Birdie first, she would grab him before he stepped foot out the door.
"Let's get you up then, shall we?"
She took a deep breath when Evan's arms curled around her waist. Reaching down, she curled her hands tightly around his wrists and tried to hold her head up off his shoulder but moving her head made stars dance in front of her eyes.
Her knees trembled when Evan slowly stood up and pulled her along with him and she could feel her legs about to give way, but it didn't matter. Evan didn't let go of her. His arms stayed looped around her middle and when he propped his chin up on her shoulder, she almost fainted again.
They moved like they were conjoined and when Evan carefully eased (Y/n) down onto the sofa, she reached out and grabbed his wrist.
It took him by surprise, but his lips curved into a soft smile and he gladly perched down next to her so their knees were touching and his hip was meshed against hers.
(Y/n) kept her eyes on their hands as she let go of Evan's wrist to slide her fingers down across his palm. She gingerly curled her fingers around his hand and gave a light squeeze, as if testing the waters between them.
"Thank you… I, I don't know what Birdie would do if it happened and we didn't know you."
She dreaded to think what Birdie would have done if this happened and they hadn't gotten to know Evan. (Y/n) liked to think that Birdie wouldn't panic and would sit and wait patiently and that (Y/n) would get up soon and be fine. But she didn't dare let her mind wander to what could have happened. Birdie could have wandered off in search of help, she could have found a neighbour who wasn't so nice or trustworthy.
At least with Evan being the man he was and being next door, it meant that if he was home, (Y/n) knew if Birdie went to him, she would be safe. She would be safe going to their fireman next door.
"Hey, I told you if you need me just come find me and Birdie knows she can come round and get me for anything you guys need." Evan was glad he had told Birdie to come over and get him if she needed him. He would come over every time they asked and Evan would rather Birdie take the risk to come find him than wait around on her own and risk her safety and (Y/n)'s health.
"Well, thank you for coming over, and I'm sorry we had to drag you over here like that." It was pure luck that Evan had been home and not on shift, but (Y/n) couldn't help feeling bad. He could have been having friends or family or a date over and she and Birdie could have gone and ruined everything for him.
"You don't need to thank me."
"I do, we've just messed up your day-" (Y/n) stopped abruptly when Evan let go of her hand.
Her chest tightened in anticipation when his hand reached out to cup the side of her face instead. His thumb swiped across the corner of her lip and she could feel his fingers tickling the back of her neck behind her ear which made shivers course up and down her back.
"I think you've just made my day better… and I know a way you can thank me, if you like." His day hadn't been ruined, far from it. Evan's day had just got ten times better to spend it with (Y/n) and Birdie, because there was no way he was going home yet and risking (Y/n) feeling unwell again. And something told him Birdie wasn't going to let him leave either.
Her hand shook when she cupped the back of his wrist and her lips rolled together as she waited for him to explain or more or do something to show what he meant.
As much as she was expecting it, (Y/n) still felt surprised when Evan kissed her. His warm lips on hers was still a shock to her system, even though she had been praying this is what he was insinuating.
She tilted her head forward until her nose bumped into Evan's but it wasn't enough. (Y/n) pushed her chest into his and leaned over until Evan curved his free arm around her waist and pinned his hand against her lower back between her hips. His upper body leaned back so (Y/n) was almost lying on top of him and when (Y/n) took the opportunity to sink her teeth into his bottom lip, she felt his chest vibrate with a growl. It was quiet but deep enough to made her core quake.
When they parted, panting for air, Evan swiped his thumb along her cheek and something swirled in his eyes when she pulled his lip between hers before releasing it with a pop.
Evan tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes slightly when (Y/n) began to laugh. He let his hand slide around to hold the back of her neck and he pressed his temple against hers, letting his eyes search through hers to see what was so funny all of a sudden.
"What?"
"Nothing, I just… I think I'm gonna have some competition for your attention, that's all."
As much as (Y/n) found herself captured by Evan, she knew her daughter was too, in a different manner though. Birdie had found a friend in Evan, someone to look up to and who she wanted to be around and (Y/n) knew if this was the start of something, her daughter would be vying for his attention too.
"I think I like the sound of that." Evan tightened his arm around (Y/n)'s waist so she was leaning further into his chest and he grinned when she curled her arms around his back before she stole his lips in another kiss.
(Y/n) felt his hand move from her neck and she was sure that when he held the back of her thigh, he was going to pull her onto his lap. But he didn't get chance. His fingertips dug into her flesh and his nose nudged hers when Birdie's voice rung through the air.
"Birds! We have birds… Buck come see." She dropped her beaker onto the small side table near the balcony door and turned to trot towards the living room.
With a lasting kiss against her wet lips, Evan gave her thigh a squeeze and slowly tore himself away from her so he could wander over to find where her toddler was. Evan clapped his hands when he found her and he reached down, scooping her up into his arms so he could settle her down on his hip.
"Birds," She repeated quietly, pointing over to the window but Evan scarcely looked out before he turned his attention back towards the girl on his hip.
"I think the prettiest bird is right here."
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littlecafe · 2 years
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me, a jtbc music survival show and nugu group enthusiast’s time has come!! or it will...once this airs in 2023...................
#the producer is the one from sing again...cant say im a fan of sing again's format even tho i rec the show (1st season)#but it's a whole new series so i'm excited!! jtbc always focuses more on the music side and like behinds process of the performance#so that makes me happy bc that's the whole reason why i watch survival shows like just for the creative processes and cross interactions#this one seems like they're competing as groups the show isn't wanting to make a ''new'' reboot group or anything#so i guess it'll lean close to mnet's kingdom gig?? but jtbc has to do better than that omg that show was.....it was a show i guess#but has jtbc ever done a full blown idol survival show?? all the ones i've watched some have idols in them but the focus is not idols#mostly just unknown/indie/normal people which creates a naturally organic atmosphere i think#anyways i like the more organic artist focus jtbc usually does for their shows so im so excited tryna think which groups would go on omg#but i feel too many groups i knew of are too old for this now but jtbc does pull a pretty different crowd compared to mnet#also their channel audience skews older (that can also be a reason they don't do the drama edits lmao) like the target seems late 20's-40's#so maybe the older groups will come out!! fingers crossed!!#i feel it won't be just 4th gen like it has to have 3rd gen there who knows which gen will be the predominate but that seems like fun#i don't think the stages will be on the scale of mnet and 3rd gen did not have the same performance dance oriented focus#so i wonder how the stages will look what the song choices will be will their be cross group stages despite it being a group vs group show#i think i'm going to have so much to say when more info comes out we still have a long time unless they plan on airing in jan or feb#whatever first half means to them but yea i will be going feral in the text posts#delete#tea talks
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ghostofwriting · 21 days
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Kildare Split Part Three: Bleach
Rafe Cameron x Reader
Chapter 3: Bleach
Note: Hi! I love you all so much, thank you for reading and being absolutely wonderful. Here is Chapter Three, it covers the smau basically up until Rafe blocks Topper. Still no answers on that 💋
Warnings: none, not edited, angst, swearing, sadness, julio.
Word Count: 5,343
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Synopsis: Everyone has noticed that there's been a shift in how Kildare Split acts around each other. Rafe and Y/N used to be so close, they were always pictured together, and always shared stories of each other and for the last few years, there has been nothing from them. A behind-the-scenes look at what went down between everyone's favourite band.
Chapter Three: Bleach
That didn’t go how he planned it. He hurt her inconceivable amounts and it’s not going to be easy to get her to forgive him. He needs to work for it, he knows that. Hearing her say that she meant nothing to him when she meant the world to him hurts more than he could have ever imagined. He’s so mad at himself for ever saying those same things to her. He doesn’t deserve her. He knows that too. He’s always been selfish when it comes to her though, he needs her back. He needs to figure out how to talk to her first. 
“Let me get this straight, you told her to listen to your album for what?”
“To understand what I’m feeling.”
“Rafe, the girl doesn’t need to understand what you’re feeling, she needs you to apologize to her.” His dad’s voice comes through the speaker. He was getting ready for bed when Ward called.
“The album is like an apology.” He tells his dad like it’s obvious. 
“Unless you have a song in that thing that says ‘Y/N I’m sorry,’ for 3 minutes straight, she’s not going to hear it as an apology. She’s going to take it as an excuse.”
“I’m just so ashamed, I don’t know how to approach it.” he stares at the phone screen, a picture of his dad and Wheezie stares back at him.
“I miss you, dad.”
“I miss you too, son. You’ll be home soon and we’ll go golfing, how about that?” Rafe smiles softly. 
His relationship with his dad hasn't always been this good. When he chose music over a ‘real’ career, his dad almost disowned him. Y/N had been the one to talk Ward out of it. Giving him a plan that if they didn’t make it in two years, she would drag him back by his ear and make him take over the company. They had to work their asses off but it happened, and Ward had accepted it. It had been a long road, they spent a lot of time not speaking to each other, communicating through Sarah. Ward hadn’t been to a single show before their first album was released. He remembers seeing Ward walk in next to Sarah and feeling his five-year-old self again, prepared to put on the best show for his dad to finally be proud of him. And he was, at the end of the night he hugged Rafe and told him everything he had ever wanted to hear from him. That he was proud of everything he had accomplished, that he was meant to perform, and that he loved him. 
And he owed it all to her. It always goes back to her. 
“That sounds great, Dad.”
“Have you talked to Sofia about this, you know girls, she might have some insight you don’t.”
“I don’t think Sofia’s up to giving me advice about Y/N.
“Rafe, this is only to get her back as your friend, correct? You and Sof are good?” Ward asks, concern lacing his voice.
“Yeah, of course. Sof and I are great.” Denial. Always in denial, Rafe Cameron.
“Okay well, I wish you luck with all of that. Get some rest. I’ll be out in a couple of weeks.”
“Bye Dad, love you,” Ward tells him he loves him too and hangs up. 
+++
Kiara of all people tells her to listen to his album. As if everyone else who’s telling her isn’t enough.
“Hold on, I thought I got you in the divorce?” Kie laughs at her joke. 
“You did, but I think you should listen to what he has to say.”
“Kie, he hasn’t even apologized in person, why should I?” She’s playing with the thread that’s hanging off of the comforter. 
“Because he’s always been better at explaining himself in song.” She says matter of factly.
“This is unbelievable.” Kie groans on the other side of the phone.
“Look, he’s a piece of shit and he was horrible to you. I know that, but god can he write.”
“I know he can. I work with him.” 
“Y/N.”
“Kie.” She mocks 
“Just listen.” She’s shaking her head and rolling her eyes, glad that Kie can’t see her. 
“Okay, whatever, I don't want to talk about this anymore. What happened between you and jayj?”
“Ha! Nope.” She whines, wanting to know the drama between her two friends.
Sarah walks in with Penny in her arms. They had gone for a walk, Y/N citing vocal rest to skip going out in the rain.
“Vocal rest but you’re talking on the phone?” Sarah calls her out.
“My baby!” Sarah drops the small dog on the hotel bed, Penny running into Y/N’s arms.
“Thanks, Sarah.” She pouts at her. 
“So what are we talking about?”
“Trying to get Y/N to listen to ‘Angel.’” Kie’s voice cuts through the speaker.
“Absolutely no use. She won’t.” Sarah says. She nods along agreeing with Sarah. 
It’s not that she can’t listen to the album. She doesn’t want to. Why should she care about whatever he said in the album when he can’t tell her directly? The last time they talked he didn’t say sorry, albeit she didn’t let him say sorry with her whole speech she had been internalizing for three years. Even still, if he had just opened with ‘sorry’ she might have been more inclined to listen to his stupid album. She already knew it was about her, what more could she possibly learn?
So why can’t she get the thought of listening to it out of her head? She’s alone now, her dog next to her, sleeping tucked between her pillow and her neck. Sarah went back to her room a few hours ago and Y/N’s been trying to go to sleep to no avail. 
So she plays the stupid album that she told Rafe to shove up his ass. 
By the end of the album, she’s angry again. It’s great. Of course, it is. It’s him and he’s amazingly talented. Everything he touches turns to gold and she despises him for it. The chord progressions the tempos, the synths. Everything is amazing. Even the stupid lyrics that she wishes she could hate. How dare he be so talented and make her hate him just a fraction less?
The lyrics bother her. ‘I bought a house to live in but you’re the home I’m missin'?’ His fault. ‘I watched the weeks fly by, I’m not myself when you’re not there.’ His fault. Again. ‘I’m not a sentimental guy, I need you in my life.’ Well Rafe Cameron, why do you think she’s not in your life? It’s like he’s trying to hide the fact that he completely obliterated her heart and is pretending that she just walked out on him.
Fuck you, Rafe. You don’t get to pretend.
+++
She hears Topper in the lobby of the hotel. He’s most likely the first one down here, waiting for the rest of them to wake up so they can take the car to the arena. 
She stands off to the side, their manager Ash, handing out their backstage badges. She sees Topper take two from Ash out of the corner of her eye. 
He extends the badge out to her for her to take and offers her a smile. 
“Thanks.” She tells him. 
“I know this is probably a long time coming and not the best place to have this conversation but I’m sorry.” She looks at him eyes wide, she tries to hide her shock, a small frown still visible on her face.
“Thanks.” She says again, not knowing how to respond to him. 
“I know I’ve been a shitty friend. I didn’t know how to act when everything went down. I knew about Sofia and I felt like I betrayed you. You were so hurt and I didn’t deserve your friendship. I let you isolate yourself and I’m sorry. I should have done better.”
She feels her eyes welling up. She won’t let herself cry. Not where anyone could see them.
“Yeah, you have been shitty.”
“Is it too late for you to forgive me?” She shakes her head, launching herself into his arms. Strangely it feels like coming home. She is finally hugging her best friend again. The guy who used to want to fight anyone who even looked at her wrong. 
“I missed you.” she breathes into his shoulder. 
“I missed you too, I’m sorry.” She lets go of him sniffling. She sees unshed tears in his eyes too. 
“It’s going to take some time for me to trust you, but I’ll work on it.”
“I will get on my knees, beg, and cry if you need me to.” She laughs
“I’ll let you know.”
As soon as the other two arrive, their badges are given to them and they all walk towards the car. She usually opts for sitting in the front ever since everything happened between them. She thinks that this time she can sit next to Topper. 
“Hey, Ash?” She calls for her manager's attention, “Mind if you sit in the front this time?” Ash looks at her surprised but nods her head anyway. 
“Of course, go.” She motions for Y/N to step into the car, Rafe and Barry look at her questioningly from the very back. She smiles at Topper and sits directly next to him, he offers her one of his airpods and she takes it. He’s listening to something she’s never heard and she doesn’t mind at all. For the first time in a long time, she doesn’t feel like the loneliest person in the car. 
Rafe burns holes into the backs of both their heads. What the fuck is going on?
+++
“So are you going down there for your anniversary?” He hears Sarah ask. She and Y/N are getting their lunch. 
“Ya, it works out perfectly with the tour ending just in time,” Y/N responds, 
“So are you expecting a ring?” His ears perk up at the question, willing everyone around him to shut up so he can hear her answer clearly. 
“I wouldn’t be opposed.” Y/N has a teasing tone to her voice and he feels like throwing up. He gets up from the table where he’s eating with Barry and Topper. His fork clanged against the plate as he stood up and stormed off. He can’t eat with the bile already rising in his throat. What’s wrong with him?
+++
He notices as Topper and Y/N fool around during their private soundcheck. They’re playing off each other, Y/N messing with his guitar as he sings into her microphone. He notices that it’s a little awkward but it’s better than it has been in years. He gives Barry another questioning look and Barry just shrugs. He makes a note to ask Topper what happened. 
“I can’t hear myself in my left ear, I just hear Barry’s excessive screeching,” Y/N speaks into her microphone at one of the sound techs. 
“Oh, I’m sorry we can’t all be professionally trained singers, princess.” Y/N scoffs. 
“You’re in a band Barry, maybe learn how to sing.”
“Why are you being such a bitch right now?”
“Hey!” Topper yells turning towards Barry, “cut that shit out.” Barry makes a face at Topper but drops it. 
“What the fuck is going on with you two?” Rafe asks, done with waiting to ask Topper after soundcheck. 
“Just have her back, man.”
“Since when?” He raises an eyebrow. 
“Since he apologized, maybe you should learn how to do that.” She purses her lips and instead of being annoyed, he can’t stop thinking about how cute she looks.
“I tried to apologize and all you did was yell at me for 10 minutes.”
“You didn’t try to apologize, Rafe! You tried to get me to listen to your album.”
“If you would have just heard me out.”
“What? I would know that you’re so apathetic it’s pathetic but you need me now? Or how about that you’re down on your hands and knees Beggin' me please, baby.”
“You listened.” He feels a sense of relief overtake him which is quickly washed away by her tone.
“Under duress.”
“What did you think?”
“I think it’s bold to sing songs about me when your girlfriend is ready to marry you.” He wants to deny that any of the songs are about her. It doesn’t work like that. Everyone knows. Instead of denying it or calling her conceited for thinking it’s about her, another question rises up and out of his mouth before he can stop it.
“Are you?”
“What?” She asks, confused. He wants to keep his mouth shut. Why does he need to know anything, why does he want to hurt his feelings so badly?
“Ready to marry him?” Oh, he’s so stupid.
“Yeah.” There is no hesitation in her answer and his heart breaks a little.
“Great.” He says shortly.
“Great.” She turns away from him and back to her microphone, talking to the tech until he gets the volume in her left ear right. He storms off the stage shoving his guitar into Topper’s chest, narrowly missing Topper’s guitar. 
+++
“What’s your problem?” They’re waiting to be called to the stage for their second soundcheck with the fans. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You have been insufferable all day, more than usual. I can usually ignore you, I’ve been doing it for a really long time but you’re all pouting and grumbling. What’s wrong with you?”
“How could you forgive Topper and not me?”
“I haven’t forgiven Topper, but he apologized for everything, it’s more than you have ever done.”
“I’m sorry.” He blurts out.
“Rafe. Stop.” She goes to walk away but he grabs her arm, stopping her. 
“What? You beg me to apologize and now you don’t want to hear it?”
“I didn’t want to beg you for it, I wanted you to apologize because it’s the right thing to do.”
“I know that I haven’t been a good friend to you. I’ve been so absent from our friendship. I let people get in the way of us and I self-sabotaged and pushed you away.”
“Rafe please.”
“I think that I pushed you away because I couldn’t be with you but I couldn’t be your friend.”
She holds her breath, waiting for what he says next. 
“I couldn’t be just your friend because I was in love with you.”
“And I’m stupid okay? I’m the biggest idiot in the entire world for saying the things that I said to you.” He pauses to gauge her reaction. She’s looking directly at him, her gaze not faltering.
“You were never just someone I fucked. You weren’t some girl or someone who didn’t mean anything to me. You are the girl, you mean everything to me. You always have. And I am sorry. I am so sorry that I ever said those things.”
“Why did you?”
“I was terrified. It’s an excuse I know. The way I treated you should have never happened but- I just- I was so scared to ruin our careers and take away what we had been working for since we were practically babies. The work that you put into the band and I was just being so careless with it, I could have ruined everything. I didn’t know how to deal with that and being in love with you and high all the time. I couldn’t do it.”
“You got clean right after.” 
“I knew that sabotaging us was the first step to me ruining everything else and I needed to make the sacrifice worth it so I got clean.”
“I’m a sacrifice. You sacrificed our friendship to keep the band but if you had just talked to me we could have decided together. We could have made something work.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” They hear the five-minute to curtain call announcement and Y/N sighs.
“Do you think you could ever forgive me?” He asks her, hopeful.
“I don’t know. You hurt me more than anyone ever has.” She shrugs.
“fuck, b- Y/N I’m so sorry. You have to believe me.” She nods.
“I think I do. I need time. I need to get used to the idea of letting you back into my life before I do.”
“Okay, yeah. What can I do?” He feels hopeful for the first time since he started trying to get her to talk to him. 
“Just give me space for now. I’ll let you know.” She walks past him towards Topper. That’s a good start, he thinks. 
+++
“Baby!” She yells as she gets off stage, running into Julio’s arms. His flight had been delayed so she didn’t get to see him before the show. 
His arms wrap around her waist as he lifts her off the ground, spinning her around. 
“When did you get here?” She asks him, kissing his lips before he answers. 
“Just as you started the second song.” He pulls away to answer but buries his head in her neck, kissing her. 
“Thank you for coming. I missed you so much.” She tells him, still not letting go. 
“Always.” He pecks her lips again as the rest of the band comes up behind her. 
“Hey, guys.” Julio greets them the best he can with a Y/N-sized necklace still hanging off him. 
“Hey, man!” Topper taps him on the shoulder as he passes by him. Barry mumbles a ‘hey’ and Rafe just nods, his jaw tight. 
+++
Julio had only been here for one night and already he knew everything that Rafe had told Y/N, Which is how he found himself sitting alone with the man in the green room.
“Y/N told me what you told her last night.” He really doesn’t want to have to explain to Y/N why her boyfriend is on the floor bleeding but if he throws the first punch, Rafe is only defending himself. 
“Yeah?” He looks up from his phone and at Julio.
“Look, you hurt her. A lot. To the point where she thought she had no one because of you. She cried herself to sleep every day because of how alone she felt.” Rafe’s stomach churns at his words.
“I’m going to make it up to her.” He puts his phone down next to him. 
“And you better mean it. Don’t lead her on. Be honest with her. Do not hurt her again.” 
“I won’t.” He assures him.
“Good.” He thinks the conversation is over but Julio speaks up again.
“Rafe, I know how you feel about her. You need to back off. I love her. And she loves me. I will be here until she no longer wants me. Please don’t get in the way of that.”
“I’m engaged.”
“That doesn’t change the way you look at her. Your heart isn’t in it. Respect my relationship and I will respect you.” 
“You don’t have anything to worry about. I just want my friend back.” It’s not like she would take him back anyway. Even if he wanted to.
“Okay.” Cleo and Pope walk in to save him from the awkward silence. 
“I’m going to head out.” He picks up his phone and stands up from where he was sitting on the couch.
“Nice talking to you,” Julio calls.
“Yeah, you too.” He all but runs out of the room on a mission to find Sarah.
+++
Sarah Cameron is not one to spread rumours. She’s very much the type to wait for confirmation. She blames the circumstances and constant stress she’s under juggling her brother’s stupid feelings with Y/N’s and vice versa. 
There has been way too much talk about marriage, Sofia finally arrived and all she can talk about is wedding dresses and the caterer and the first dance and Sarah is exhausted. And of course, Rafe is panicking about things he really shouldn’t be worried about like ‘Oh is Y/N getting married? Sarah, she said that she was ready.’ and Y/N herself teased that she wanted the ring and she wouldn’t say no if Julio proposed. So what is Sarah supposed to think when she hears Y/N squeal from her dressing room as she screams “Yes! Of course, I’ll marry you.” Sarah is tired. 
She should have known there wasn’t an actual proposal when it happened in the dressing room of all places. She knows Julio, he’s a romantic guy, thinking back on it, there’s no way he would have proposed like that. Again, Sarah’s tired and she’s not thinking and she needs to tell someone and the first person she sees. Barry. Bad idea. 
“Julio just proposed to Y/N and she said yes.” The information spills out of her mouth, it takes Barry a moment to process what she said but once he gets it he’s laughing. 
“Shit. That’s going to kill him.” Fuck. Rafe. She hadn’t even thought of her brother’s reaction. She wants to be the one to tell him but he’s out with his trainer. She has to make sure no one tells him before she does. 
“Topper!” She runs down the hall towards him.
“What’s up, why are you like sweating?” She waves him off.
“When does Rafe get back?”
“An hour still.”
“Shit.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Y/N just got engaged and I need to be the one to break the news to him.” 
“Holy shit. Good for her. Where is she?” Sarah shakes her head at him. 
“That’s not the point, I need you to find out where Rafe is training so I can find him.”
“He’s probably running laps outside or at a nearby park.”
“Do you have his location?” 
“No, security list.”
“Oh my god! I hate that you’re all famous sometimes.” She says through gritted teeth. 
“I need to find John B. Make sure Rafe doesn’t find out!” She says running off down the hall again. 
“Find out what?” Sofia’s voice comes from behind him. 
“Jesus, Sofia, be louder next time.”
“Sorry. What’s going on?”
“Oh, nothing. Y/N just got engaged and Sarah doesn’t want anyone to know yet.’
“Fun! Congratulations to them, that’s so exciting!” He sees her pull out her phone and walk in the direction of the busses.
“See you, Top!”
“On the bus?” He asks her. 
“Yeah.” She gives him a toothy grin. 
Shit. Topper thinks. She’s going to tell Rafe. 
+++
Kyle had just made him run way too much. Keeping up his stamina was important to perform every night. This time though Kyle really wanted to kill him. 
“You hate me, man.” He says opening up his phone. Kyle laughs. 
“You did great.” He tells him as they start their walk back to the arena. 
He has a few notifications from Instagram from friends back home sending him reels and Wheezie tagging him in stories. He swipes out of Instagram and goes on to his Twitter quickly checking to see if the lineup for the show had started already, trying to see which way they took back to the arena without being seen. 
Something catches his eye as he scrolls past it, he scrolls back up trying to find the pink icon. 
‘@KSUpdates: 💍💍💍’ He reads through the other tweets wondering what that’s all about, were they promoting something he forgot about? He keeps scrolling until he sees someone say that Y/N’s engaged. He stops where he is, Kyle looking at him questioningly. 
“You okay?” His head is spinning, his heart is racing faster than when he was working out, and he feels like throwing up. No, he’s not okay. 
“I need to go.” He starts booking it to the arena, Kyle trailing behind him. 
He has three unanswered texts from Sarah, a call from Topper, and one from Kelce by the time he makes it back to the arena. He says bye to Kyle and rushes to the bathroom. He’s going to throw up, he feels lightheaded. 
He didn’t realize how not okay he was with losing her forever right until this moment. He couldn’t face it for the longest time. He loves Sofia. He does. She has been important to him, his growth, and his life, she’s been an amazing partner. But that’s all she’s been. A friend. Because he couldn’t give her his heart. Not when Y/N was out there already walking around with it. She had never given it back. She owned it, owned him. He knew that now. With every fibre in his being, he knew that he was still in love with her. And she was marrying someone else. He was losing her. 
His breathing feels laboured. He feels the room continue spinning, he slides down the bathroom wall trying to keep the panic attack at bay. How could he be so stupid? How could it take him so long to realize that he couldn’t live without her no matter how hard he tried? It would always be her. 
He hears his phone ringing again but ignores it. He needs to get his breathing under control before he can talk to anyone. They can’t know he’s losing it. 
He needs to do something. He needs to get his shit under control and talk to Y/N. He hasn’t had a panic attack in so long. He’s not used to dealing with it. He needs to find Barry first. 
+++
She’s in one of her moods again, every time Julio leaves she gets sad and it takes her a day or two to get back into the swing of things. It’s been a week since she had asked Rafe for space. She thinks that she’ll be able to work towards forgiving him or at least putting the past behind her. After talking to Cleo, Sarah, and Julio, they had all given her the same advice. Do what she believes is the best next step for her. 
She notices Sarah hovering over Rafe like a mother hen, checking in on him, asking him if he’s okay every two seconds. She doesn’t know what happened but Topper had told her he went missing for the entire day until their show. And she’s pretty sure he showed up high. She’s scared for him. He’s been clean for so long that getting into drugs again now could shock his system. He’s not her responsibility anymore but she cares if he lives or dies. 
That same day that Rafe went missing, everyone was congratulating her for being engaged. The updates account had hinted at her being engaged too, she doesn’t know where they got that information, she not only had to tweet, she had to tell the entire team that no, she was not engaged. 
It had been a stupid misunderstanding that Sarah had apologized for a significant amount. Cleo had asked Julio how he would propose so Julio had set the scene for her and gotten down on one knee and Y/N had played along. Stupid and dumb. 
She’s reading a contract for a new magazine shoot she’s doing when Rafe comes up to her. 
“Hey.” He seems anxious. He can’t seem to stand still and his hair’s a mess.
“Hi, you good?” She asks him. 
“No.” She gives him her full attention now. Wondering what he’s about to say to her. 
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m selfish.” She doesn’t like the tone he says it in. Like he knows he’s about to tell her something he shouldn’t.
“Whatever you’re about to say don’t.” She goes back to her contract, staring at it blankly.
“When I thought you were engaged-”
“Rafe. Enough.”
“I had never felt so heartbroken in my life.” She’s shaking her head at him, trying to get him to stop.
“And I thought, I have to stop this now. I have to do whatever I can to stop it before it goes too far and I have to ruin your wedding. Because I would. Because I’m selfish.” She doesn’t know what to say to that so she says the first thing that comes to mind.
“It’s too late.”
“It doesn’t have to be.” There’s desperation in his voice, his eyes glassy.
“You’re engaged!” She yells, getting up and in his face.
“No, I love you.”
“I love Julio.”
“I love you.”
“Stop!” She turns her back to him and tries to find her breath.
“None of that changes how I feel. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry it’s taken me this long to figure myself out.” She feels him behind her, looming over her shoulder.
“Why are you telling me any of this?”
“I can’t lose you. And that’s what’s happening because I’m an idiot. But I can’t lose you and I’m going to fight for you.” She turns around to face him, taking a step back, creating distance between them.
“There’s no fighting for me. We’re done. We’ve been over for so long. For three years I only spoke to you on stage or in interviews! There’s no us.”
“Tell me you don’t love me.”
“Rafe.” Her voice is firm but he doesn’t care.
“Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll go. I’ll leave you alone and you won’t ever have to see me again.”
“Not possible. The band.” She doesn’t know why she needs to make sure the band is safe in this moment, so much has happened between them to keep it alive, it can’t be at risk now.
“Outside of that then. Tell me.” She stays quiet, shaking her head once more.
“Please.” She snaps.
“I was in love with you for years! Since I was 13 years old you have lit up my goddamn world and when you finally gave me that chance, when you started looking at me like we could be something you ripped it all away. You hurt me so much and now? Now is when you want to come back and tell me everything I’ve been hoping for for years. Now when you’re getting married and I’m in a happy relationship?” She finishes, her chest heaving anger leaving her body in droves.
“You’re not in a happy relationship.”
“Rafe.” Her tone is warning him to not continue.
“Come on!  He doesn’t understand you the way I do! Doesn’t understand the life we live, and the sacrifices we have made to be where we are. He’s not good enough for you.”
“And you are?” 
“No.” She throws her hands up, “but, I understand you. I know who you are at your core, baby.” 
“Stop.” She’s sure she’s shooting daggers at him now.
“Why?”
“You don’t get to call me that.”
“No, why are you with him?” He’s close to her again, she can feel his breath hitting her face.
“Because.”
“Because what?”
“Because I love him!” Rafe’s face falls. She exhales. “I love him.”
“No, you don’t.” She stays quiet. 
“You can’t.” He backs up a little, his head shaking, eyes sad.
“Rafe,” she says softly, stepping closer to him. She reaches out but pulls her arm away quickly.
“It’s too late.” She repeats her words from earlier.
“But I love you.” She doesn’t want to hurt him but she knows she has to put an end to this.
“I don’t love you.”
“I’m so stupid. Oh my god, how did I ever let you go? I’m an idiot th-“ she cuts him off putting a hand on his arm.
“Hey hey, stop. It’s okay. We’ll get through this.”
“How?” Tears are threatening to spill over now. His eyes are red. She doesn’t know if it’s from holding back tears or from smoking.
“By being friends.” His blue eyes pierce into hers.
“I’ll try.”
“Okay.” There are a lot of things left unsaid between them. She hugs him for the first time in years and he puts his face in the crook of her neck. She feels him crying. His tears soaking her neck.
“I love you.” She does too. Not in the way that he wants. Not anymore.
“I know.”
242 notes · View notes
ijustreallylovethem · 15 days
Text
break up with him
i had this idea on my drive home earlier and i’m not entirely sure i like it but… it’s postable. let me know what you guys think!
luke hughes x reader
words: 2,401
masterlist
“hello?”
“hey, sorry it’s late but-“
“you know i’ll always answer your calls.” luke smiled at your reminder. very rarely had you ever missed one of his calls, because he knew your schedule almost better than his own. if he was calling during class or work, you knew it was serious. and any other time, well you would never pass up the opportunity to talk to your best friend.
“i know.”
“so what’s up? jack annoying you again and you need me to yell at him?” you honestly weren’t sure how the two had been able to live together for the past year with as much as they squabbled. in the two weeks since they had been back in michigan, you had already broken up more arguments than you could count.
“noooooo. why did i call you?” he asked the question more to himself, causing you to giggle.
“lukey, you been drinking?” you heard him scoff into the phone, as if that was a ludacris idea.
“me? drinking? absolutely not!” however, you only had to stay silent for a moment before he was telling the truth. “okay, maybe i’ve had a couple beers.”
“you know it’s a tuesday, right?” you teased.
“well, jacks the one that pulled them out of the fridge so you can take that up with him.” you rolled your eyes, picturing what luke was telling you exactly.
“anyway, you just miss me so much you had to call me? you just saw me a couple of hours ago.”
“i always miss you when you’re gone,” he said, maybe a bit to sincerely. your lips formed a pout, and you were about to open your mouth to speak but luke continued. “but no, i had a reason for calling you… what was it?”
“i don’t know, moose. i’m not in your mind.” you could hear jack yelling something faintly and luke gasped.
“oh! we were listening to music and it started playing that brad paisley song that you always refuse to listen to because it makes you cry.” jack spoke in the background again and then luke clicked his tongue. “right, two people fell in love.”
“and you called to tell me because… you want me to think about it and cry?”
“nooooooo. i called because it made me think about you and then i wanted to talk to you.”
“so you do miss me. that’s what i’m hearing.” you smile, loving how attached your best friend could be sometimes. you understood where he was coming from though. you had been attached at the hip since he moved to michigan and now you lived in two different states. now that he was back for the summer, you had been spending almost all of your time together catching up. the only reason you hadn’t stayed over there tonight was because of your boyfriend, peyton.
you and peyton had met in class at the beginning of the semester, but you had only been together for about four months. luckily, he understood how important luke was to you and had no problem with him. you had been worried at the beginning of your relationship that your friendship with luke would be seen as a problem, as you had heard many horror stories about boyfriends and guy best friends before. but the two had formally met the second day luke was back in michigan and seemed to have no problems with each other. since you had been spending so much time with luke, peyton had asked if you could both spend a night in together, and you were happy to grant his request.
“you know i’d be over there right now if i was allowed to be,” luke responded, as if it were obvious. you both knew it was though. you were always inseparable during the summer, and everyone only expected it to be worse this year since you had spent so long apart.
“don’t worry, i know.”
“speaking of which, where is he?”
“peyton? he went to go pickup food so we didn’t have to pay for delivery.” luke gasped dramatically, and you could practically picture the sarcastic hand he had brought up to his chest.
“you’re telling me he requested you all to himself and then left you?” you couldn’t help but giggle.
“he did, unfortunately. but he’ll be back soon.” luke hummed, but other than that, the line was silent for a few moments.
“hey y/n, can i ask you something?” his tone had turned serious, but you knew that didn’t automatically mean that his question would follow suit.
“always, lukey.” he didn’t ask right away, which had you believing whatever he was about to say was more serious than you originally thought. he took a deep breath and then rushed the words out.
“do you love him?” the question took you by surprise, and you weren’t sure how to answer.
“what?”
“because, you talk about him, you tell me things he does for you and such, but i feel like you don’t always sound… i don’t know, excited, i guess. like he’s there but you don’t truly care that he is.”
you’re stunned by his words. so stunned that you can only look down at your lap and pick at the little pills on your shorts. luke knows you well, and even though he can’t see you, he realizes you’re not going to answer.
“sorry, maybe i shouldn’t have asked. but i think the fact that you can’t tell me yes means that the answer is no.”
deep down, you know he’s right. you know that your relationship with peyton isn’t bad, but it isn’t amazing either. he’s a great guy, a good boyfriend, but something just wasn’t clicking for you. you had hoped that something would change as time went on, but you had heard of the three month rule and that time had come and gone. nothing.
“y/n?”
“he’s a good guy, luke.” you felt a tear run down your cheek and you were quick to wipe it away. “i hate that i don’t feel more toward him. he’s so amazing to me but-“
“but you don’t love him.” you shake your head, even though he can’t see you.
“no.” you reach up to wipe away another tear, taking a breath to steady yourself. “i don’t know why, but i don’t. no matter how much i probably should. which really sucks, because i don’t want to hurt him.”
“you’ll just hurt him worse by staying with him,”luke reasoned, and you knew he was right. you couldn’t lie to peyton about loving him and you couldn’t keep giving him false hope by hoping you somehow fell in love with him in the future.
“i know,” you whispered. you heard the door to your apartment open and close and you sighed silently. “i gotta go.”
“he’s back?”
“yeah, bye lukey.”
peyton looked at you concerned as he set the bag of take out on the coffee table in front of you. he slipped off his shoes and sat down, opening his arms to you.
“everything okay?” you just pulled your knees to your chest and wrapped your arms around yourself. peyton was quick to readjust when he realized you wouldn’t be moving closer to him. “what’s wrong?”
“um, i just… i finally am admitting some things that i didn’t want to admit for the past few weeks.” you closed your eyes and took a breath, trying to figure out how to break the news in the easiest way possible.
“you’re breaking up with me.” your eyes flew open, your jaw dropped slightly as well as you looked at him bewildered.
“how-“
“i really like you, y/n. which means i did my best to learn you. and it didn’t take me long to figure out that you like me too, but not as much. and not in the same way. but i don’t think i wanted to admit it to myself either.”
“peyton, i am so sorry-“
“don’t be sorry.” you had no clue how he was able to offer you a kind smile right now, but he was. he even reached out and gently rubbed your arm, trying to give you as much comfort as you would let him. “it’s not your fault you don’t love me. it’s okay.” the pout returned to your face as more tears welled up in your eyes.
“how are you being so sweet right now?” he pulled you into a hug now, rubbing his hand gently up and down your spine as he laughed slightly.
“to be honest with you, i’ve had about two weeks to let the information sink in.” you pulled away just enough to look up at him with glassy eyes.
“two weeks? why two weeks?” you began to wrack your brain. what had happened between the two of you two weeks ago?
“the day i met luke, and i saw the two of you together, i knew you’d never belong to me. i don’t think you’ve realized it yet, and i’m not sure if he has or not, but y/n, you can’t love me because you love him.”
his words hit you like a train. it was like you had been trying to put together a whole lego set without the base piece, and now that you had it, it was finally standing up straight and looking like it was supposed to. you were suddenly hearing what luke wasn’t saying on your phone call earlier, what he hadn’t been saying in all of your conversations for god knows how long. you were realizing why peyton felt like he was missing something even though he had been nothing but perfect to you.
“and now i think you’ve realized it,” peyton said quietly, a smile on his face.
“peyton… i am so sorry.”
“hey, don’t be sorry, remember? i want you to be happy, okay? and it sucks that that isn’t going to be with me. but i would never be selfish and keep you for myself when that’s clearly not what you want.”
you couldn’t help but surge forward, squeezing him tightly to thank him for the amount of clarity he had shown you. but just as quickly as you grabbed him, you let go and stood up.
“i need… i need to go. um, you can eat all the food and just, lock the door on your way out and-“
peyton stood and slipped on his shoes, shaking his head slightly as he laughed at you.
“need a ride?” your shoulders deflated as some of the stress left your body.
“yes please.”
“come on.” you grabbed your phone and slipped on the shoes by your door, following peyton out of the building to his car. from the moment that you buckled you were zoned out, biting at your nails as you tried to plan what to say.
how do you tell your best friend that you’re in love with him? what if he hadn’t realized he was in love with you too. what if he wasn’t in love with you? oh god what if peyton had gotten into your head and made you believe all of this as revenge for breaking up with him? no, he wouldn’t do that. would he?
it took you a moment to realize the car was parked in front of jack and quinn’s lake house. however, even after you realized, you stayed still.
“you gonna make me sit here all night?” peyton teased. you finally looked up at him, forcing a small smile through your worried state.
“thank you, peyton. for everything.” he gave a smile and a slight nod, then looked to the front door.
“go be happy.”
you were quick to unbuckle and climb out of the car, not sparing a glance behind you as you made your way up the sidewalk. you vaguely registered the sound of the car leaving and the way the night grew darker as the light from his headlights left, but your eyes stayed trained on the front door. usually you just walked right in, but that didn’t seem right for the moment. so instead you rang the doorbell.
you waited a moment, then realized the two boys probably wouldn’t be phased by someone ringing the bell. it wasn’t a common occurrence unless the person ringing it was a sales person or such. so you stepped forward and rang it again. it took a moment of waiting but finally the door opened to reveal your confused best friend.
“y/n? why did you… get in here.” but you stood in your spots taking a deep breath to steel yourself for what you were about to say.
“i don’t love peyton.” now luke looked even more confused.
“we had this conversation like half an hour ago. are you okay? come inside.”
“luke! i… i don’t love peyton because i love you.”
it was slow, the way his demeanor changed. but sure enough, his frown turned up into a smile and his eyes lit up as your words fully registered inside of his brain. his grip on the door handle fell and he ran his hand through his curls.
“god, i thought you’d never figure it out.” he was reaching for you then, cupping your cheeks in his palms and pressing his lips to yours. he kissed you like he’d never get enough, like he never wanted to let you go.
“god guys, get a room.” luke pulled away then, and you glanced around him to see jack standing there. his tone was disgusted but his expression was giddy. but before you could question it, he spoke again. “great timing though, i’m winning five grand on this. i gotta call trev.”
he walked away, and you looked up at luke, who was already smiling down at you. his eyes were bright and his cheeks were flushed, and his lips were just a little swollen. you were nearly sure you didn’t look much different.
“how about we go to my room and talk about this, yeah?” you nodded, considering the only thing you’d want more was for him to kiss you again. but seeing as you were still standing in the front doorway, maybe that could wait just a moment. well…
“kiss me one more time?” you asked, batting your lashes at him. his smile turned into a soft smirk for a moment before his lips were back on yours.
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bartxnhood · 8 months
Text
lost stars | c.b
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colby brock x reader
summary: colby is always there for you. even at your worst.
warnings: mentions of depression, anxiety, thoughts of suicide, etc.
a/n: i’ve been kinda in a slump lately so this is kinda a self insert, but also if any of my followers or you come across this i genuinely hope you know that it will get better. if you need someone to talk to me, please reach out to me. i’ll always be here for you. ❤️
requests open
not proofread
Copyright © 2023 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.
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you were overcome with a familiar sensation. the sensation of having everyone around you but still feeling alone in the world occurred often. the need to curl up under your covers and wither away, the pain in your chest, the random tears, the feeling that you're going crazy. everything was wrong, but you were unable to express your feelings.
you surrounded yourself with toxic people over the years, hungry for any type of attention, even if it was unpleasant. you desired to feel something. even if that meant it hurt you more, it was better than nothing. you weren't numb.
you tried to block out your thoughts with music, but the songs only served to highlight how unhappy you were. your life was uninteresting, and you feared you'd never feel genuine happiness again. until you met colby, you saw everything in black and white.
he was a colorful person who saw the good in the world while you only saw the terrible. it has been said that opposites attract. despite this, you two had a lot in common after the meeting.
first and foremost, both of you had excellent musical tastes. if one of you discovered a new song or band, you'd tell each other about it. alternatively, if colby was droning on about the paranormal and his love for hunting the unknown, you'd be all ears, staring at him with the brightest smile, seeing how his eyes lit up. colby often enjoyed movie marathons with you; you'd both choose a few films you hadn't seen before and watch them together, along with the occasional old favorite you both adored.
“oh cmon, there was totally enough room for jack!” you exclaimed with the remote in hand. you just finished watching titanic for probably the hundredth time with him and you were back to arguing about the ending. “i’m not saying there wasn’t, jus sayin it would’ve been hard to balance!” he laughed, standing up from your sofa with the popcorn bowl in hand. “okay yeah maybe, but that’s why she had the life jacket!” you heard him snicker from the kitchen, “y/n, the movie is twenty years old, i don’t think it’ll change anytime soon. sorry darling” he walked back into the living room falling by your side.
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though, it wasn’t always glamorous. you knew colby was famous, you know girls practically threw themselves at him and it did make you uneasy.
not that you thought you weren’t good enough for him, but the fear that once you had another episode, he would leave you.
colby understood about your mental health; he was always there for you and would do whatever to help you the best he could. you never wanted him to see you at your lowest; it was a difficult period for you, and you didn't want colby to bear that burden.
you were going through that again. everything went back to black and white, and the color faded day by day. you began to lose that sparkle in your eyes, you stopped smiling at his texts, you slept most of the day, you didn't leave your bed, and you even forgot to eat some days. your body was once again being overwhelmed by that sensation.
colby began to notice your absence, your one-word texts back, or even not messaging back for hours. it was like a complete shift. he was aware of what was going on and did not hold it against you. you needed time to deal with everything, but he didn't want you alone. he didn't have much experience with what you were feeling, but he would spend every single day with you just to understand; he wants to help you. he doesn't want you to suffer any longer, and even if you didn't talk to him or tell him how you felt, he wanted you to know he was there for you no matter what.
you lay on your bed, a mountain of sheets covering your body. all of your lights were turned out, and the only light came from your window. you couldn't recall when you last showered, maybe four days ago if you had to guess.
when you tried to close your eyes, you felt that familiar aching in your chest again. you began to cry as memories flooded your head. it was annoying not to be able to sleep without your mind taking control. reminding yourself of all you could have done better or things that have contributed to your depression. you felt guilty for everything, even if it had nothing to do with you.
you rolled over, facing your window and door. It was almost midnight. you just wanted to sleep, but following your previous naps, you doubted you'd get any. you tried to close your eyes and rest, but were interrupted by a knock at the door. "y/n?" you heard your boyfriend's voice and opened the door, only to be met with darkness. you opened your eyes and looked at him. "colby?"
he entered, closing the door behind him. "you vanished, and I just wanted to check on you." he left his spare key on your desk. "im okay," he knew you weren't, so he moved over to your side and perched on the edge of the bed. "you sure?" he asks, reaching for your hand. "i know you're having a hard time; whether you let me in or not is up to you." "but I hate seeing you suffer like this, y/n," he implored, his thumb sliding over your knuckles. meanwhile, you chewed on the inside of your cheek as you stared at the wall, fighting back the surge of emotions. "I just," you began, exhaling the breath you felt you'd been holding.
“I'm not sure, colbs. "I just don't know," you hesitated, "I always end up like this again." I can't express how I feel. "I've spent so much time suffering that it's normal," you explained, a few tears falling from your eyes. I don't want to put you down because you deserve so much more."
colby rose, had you scoot over, and took your place on the bed. he drew you closer, allowing you to cry with your head on his chest. "please don't say that." knowing how depressed you were shattered his heart. "i want to be there for you no matter how many times you go through this. “its a part of you that i still adore. you closed your eyes, fighting back tears as he smiled sadly.
"youll get through this, and I'll be right here until you do. you don't have to be alone anymore."
423 notes · View notes
avocado-writing · 3 months
Text
little mage - part 2
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notes: this ended up so long. but yall wanted to be patient for porn so here we are lol. sequel to this
words: 5.4k
rating: E
pairing: astarion x reader (no pronouns used, reader has a vulva)
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The camp in Wyrm’s Crossing is alive with joy. 
Orin the Red has been killed, the party is one Netherstone closer to getting the tadpoles out of their heads, and everyone’s using it as an excuse for a booze-up. The campfire is roasting a pork loin for the main course and you’ve all gathered around it to enjoy each other’s company before dinner. Tav has their lute out and is playing a raunchy song, much to the group’s delight, and their clear voice fills the night with music and laughter.
Across the crackling embers, they catch your eye and give you a wink. You find yourself grinning. You can see why Gale is so totally smitten with them, their upbeat attitude is magnetic. No wonder they became the impromptu leader of this little group, you could quite easily see yourself following them into battle too.
As Karlach drunkenly sweeps the bard up into her arms with a whoop, you let yourself look around the campsite. Lae’zel and Shadowheart are bickering about something inane, but not with the ferocity they once did - it seems more like banter now than anything. Well, as close to banter as a githyanki can get. Halsin and Jaheira are reminiscing about the ‘old days’, and, next to the High Harper, Minsc is loudly telling a tale of his wild past to Wyll who looks equal parts interested and bewildered.
It is lovely to be part of this little family. You’ve never felt more like you belonged somewhere, amidst this group of colourful oddballs.
And finally your eyes settle on the furthest member of the group.
Astarion rarely lets himself be caught up in the middle of things. He sits at the edge of the circle, quietly swirling a glass of wine which you know he doesn’t really want to be drinking, but does so in order to look like he’s busy. He watches the rest of you laugh and joke and be merry in a way which he can’t quite bring himself to be. 
You wish you could get him to smile. He looks lighter when he does. 
A few days have passed since the… incident in the alleyway, and it’s been enough for the heat to die down both in camp and between your legs. You can look at him without throbbing, now. The two of you haven’t really spoken much outside of quiet morning pleasantries when grabbing a coffee, and those interactions are always around the others. You’ve felt the heat of his eyes bore into you though, and desperately tried to keep yourself from meeting his gaze.
To be honest, you’re glad that you’ve been so busy recently, and that business is keeping you away from Astarion. There simply hasn’t been time to explore things further with him, and you’re not sure you want to.
Well, no. That’s a lie. You do want to, desperately, but you’re worried. Astarion strikes you as being like belladonna: beautiful, but deadly if you let yourself touch.
He is, after all, a two-hundred year old vampire, with all of the baggage that comes with it. And you’re just a little mage.
“Well, seems like someone’s a million miles a–”
You shriek and drop the chicken leg you’re holding to the camp floor. Gale holds up his hands in a gesture of peace.
“My apologies. It was far from my intention to surprise you, especially at the cost of your first course.”
You sigh and grab the chicken, using a quick Prestidigitation to clear off the dirt as Gale takes a seat next to you.
“No, it’s fine. Sorry. My mind was elsewhere, which it shouldn’t have been. I know how important it is for a wizard to keep their wits about them.”
He smiles at that. He always does when you remember one of his lessons. He nods to the chicken bone you’re stripping the meat from.
“You’re getting better at that.”
“Eating floor food?”
“Well, that too perhaps, but I was referring to your grasp on magic. It’s much improved since our last lesson.” He looks a little downcast for a moment. “I’m sorry. We haven’t been focussing as much on your studies as I’d have liked - but, well, I’m sure you can understand that I’ve been somewhat waylaid due to an unwelcome guest.”
“Gale!” you say, faux-shocked, “That’s a horrible way to refer to Tav!”
He looks appalled, then realises you’re joking and grins in relief. You give him a friendly elbow.
“I understand. You didn’t ask for any of this, and we can only take each day as it comes. If anything is a reason to put teaching on a back burner, it’s the threat of being turned into an illithid.” There’s a pause. “And Tav is good for you, you know. You smile more now.”
You see his ears go a bit red, even in the low light of the fire.
“Thank you. I’m inclined to agree. They’re so thoroughly… good,” he decides, reduced to wordlessness in his ardour. He turns to you, and his posture shifts a little. Oh no. He is going to try and be Serious.
“And you know, it isn’t wrong to want to find companionship. If there was someone who you…”
Nope, no. You have to stop this. You can’t talk about your love life (or lack thereof) with Gale, it would be like having The Talk with your big brother. The idea makes you panicked and nauseous.
“Besides, Gale,” you say, quickly, interrupting him and steering the conversation back to magic, “what I just cast was a cantrip, I’ve been able to do those since I could tie my shoes.”
Gale seems relieved that you’re on more solid ground, crossing his arms over his chest with a smile.
“Is that so? Well, please, show me something spellbinding. As it were.”
He sits back and waits for you to show off. You run through your prepared spells in your head and settle on one which feels right: carefully, making sure that nobody will get hurt, you reach out and cast a careful Pyrotechnics on the campfire.
Fireworks shoot into the air, exploding into the night sky with colourful whizzes and bangs. The party all looks up and gasps in surprise and delight at the impromptu little display. You carefully shape the spell so as to keep it vertical, change the colours with a wiggle of your fingers, pulling invisible strings of weave until you feel it naturally come to an end. There’s a beat of silence before the campfire erupts in a cheer, Gale grinning proudly next to you.
“Look at you!” he says, slapping you on the back in triumph, “I’m certain that we’ll have an archwizard on our hands in no time.”
You know he’s exaggerating, but your tutor’s praise does make you beam anyway. In between compliments and Minsc’s pleading for a repeat performance, your eyes drift to the outside of the circle.
To Astarion.
And he’s watching. Of course he is. There’s something unreadable in his expression, something which makes you feel hot under the collar.
Oh, gods. This is a mistake.
You’re suddenly aware of how much the centre of attention you are. Everyone’s eyes are on you, boring into you, watching for the next thing you’ll do. 
Astarion’s eyes are on you.
No. You don’t like it. The limelight takes to Tav, not you. You’re a bloody apprentice wizard, not a fabulous bard. The heat rises until it’s eclipsing your face and gods you need to get out of here, now, choking out some half-baked excuse and getting to your feet. 
“Are you–?” begins Gale, but you wave him off and quickly scamper away, heart beating in your throat.
Unseen, Astarion slips after you.
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The longer you walk, the quicker you go, the more you calm down. Soon you can feel your panic get under control; yet questions swirl around your mind. What were you thinking, doing something so public? You berate yourself for your childishness only to know the answer is there in plain sight.
You wanted Astarion to look at you. To notice you. Oh gods, you are such a little fool. He’d never be properly impressed with you, ever, and to get wound up about it is–
“Well, someone made quite a scene back there.”
You jump. His voice is like an ice cube being run down your spine, chilling and exciting you all at once. In the forest clearing you’ve found yourself in, you turn to face the pale elf, watching as he leans up against a tree, jealous at how easy he can be in this situation.
“I hope you aren’t too put off by the fact that I followed you as you scurried off… though, judging by the way you were looking at me over the campfire, I don’t think you mind the company.”
Then it occurs to you, oh gods, you’re alone with him again, aren’t you? Far from the camp, just the two of you, and with nobody to watch he can do whatever he wants, you can do whatever you want, and…
“You’re overthinking.”
His words cut like a knife through the thick air between you, and then he’s closing the gap, getting close enough to feel your shaky breaths on his skin, red eyes gleaming. His white shirt seems to be particularly unlaced today, revealing broad plains of perfect alabaster. 
You want to touch him. You can’t move under his gaze.
“I am,” you manage to confess, voice barely more than a whisper. Astarion chuckles, and you want to hear that sound over and over and over again.
His fingers brush your arm and you gasp. His vulpine smile grows wider, looking at you from under hooded eyes.
“Would you like me to help you stop thinking?”
You nod all too eagerly, and he loves it.
His mouth is just as wonderful on yours as you remember. He tastes nice, too, of vanilla this time - you wonder if he sweetens his breath before he seeks you out. You let him lead the kiss. He has far more experience with this, after all, and it shows: the way your tongues entwine makes you moan in anticipation, the soft clack of his teeth on yours a melody unto itself. When he begins to walk you backwards you immediately follow. It’s a waltz, of a kind, something intimate and sensual, and you reel with ecstasy when you feel your back hit the rough bark of a tree.
Yes. Yes, anything. Anything that he wants to do with you, you’ll offer it all up. You’re drunk on him already, head swimming, only after more Astarion, and then you feel his hand press up against your stomach and start to gently sneak in under your waistband, and he is so so close to touching where you need him most, and –
With far more self-control than you ever realised you had, your hands reach out and grab his forearm in a vice-grip.
“No, no. Astarion. Stop.”
He does, immediately, backing away so that he can scan your face. Your chest may be heaving and body thrumming with desire but you’re not so lost in the thrill of it that you can’t see he’s genuinely concerned. His eyes are wide, searching, trying to work out what he’s done wrong. It’s the first time you’ve seen him be unsure of himself - at least in front of you.
“Did I… do you not want…?”
“No, I do. I do, but… gods, look…” this is so embarrassing but you need to say it or it will be buried forever, and any real chance of connection will be lost, “... if this is just sex for you then I don’t want it, Astarion.”
He looks absolutely bowled over by that. His eyes flit across your face as he attempts to read you; he must think you’re trying to trick him. How far that is from the truth.
You carry on. 
“I know… I know you think it might be something you have to do to win me over, or to make me like you. But it isn’t, because I already do like you! I really like you, Astarion. And while, gods know, I want you to take me here on this forest floor, I don’t want this to be some little fling. I want to go out to bookshops with you, and drink coffee, and judge people as they walk by us.” Despite everything he gives a flicker of a smile at that. “I want to hold your hand while we walk places. I want to sit in the park and look at clouds with you. I want to go to sleep next to you, gods damn it, every night if you’ll let me. I want to be there if you need someone on your side. I want… I want all of you, every messy, wild piece of it. So if this is just something physical? I can’t. It would break my heart.”
Astarion lets that little confession settle. He looks utterly gobsmacked, no matter how well he tries to make it seem otherwise. You can tell he’s thinking. That his mind is going a mile a minute trying to work out if you’re being serious, and second-guessing himself when he comes to the conclusion that you are.
And he doesn’t know what to do with that.
The moment hangs in the air, pregnant with possibility, and eventually he reaches in to kiss you. But it is not all tongues and teeth and hunger this time. It’s sweet. Affectionate. And you love it even more than the ones that came before it.
“Aren’t you full of surprises, little mage?” he asks, voice as light as a feather, caressing like velvet. Another kiss before he pulls back, returning to his typical bravado, sighing as if this is all so much, but with a sincere smile on his face which he can’t quite seem to wipe, “Alright, tomorrow, then. We’ll go out for tea. I know a little place I think you’ll like - chamomile is your favourite, isn’t it?”
Your eyes go wide as you nod. It is. And he just knew that.
“It’s a date,” he grins, and your heart skips a beat.
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He’s as good as his word. 
The next day you head to a little café in one of the quieter areas of the lower city, one with quaint outside tables under large gingham parasols, and the two of you sharing a pot of tea while people-watching. He grins at every bitchy comment you make about someone’s dress sense, and when your feet brush up playfully together underneath the table your heart jumps as if you’re a schoolchild again. 
When you finish your cups he indulges you as you go shopping, linking his little finger in yours and letting you pull him along as you go through your new favourite bookstore. He complains but you can tell he doesn’t mean it, not really. He carries your things for you while you let your hands run over the spines of newly-printed tomes, occasionally picking one out and adding it to the pile in his arms. When you’re done, you take the long way back to camp, just to be alone together for a little while longer. 
That night you sit with him by the campfire as you eat, lost in quiet conversation, and you absolutely ignore the way that Gale is grinning and trying to catch your eye because oh gods it’s embarrassing when he’s smug - and then, at night, he retires to your tent with you. You thrill as he wraps you in his arms, burying his face in the nape of your neck and drifting off to sleep. 
A few days go by and you suggest that, whilst you know Tav has let him feed from them for ease, you’d happily volunteer to take the position. He grins, and whispers something filthy which makes your face hot, and you start waking with a pleasant pain over your jugular from the next morning on. 
A few more days on from that, the two of you start kissing in front of the rest of the party. This earns a “yeah, baby!” from Karlach and a good-natured ribbing from the others. You’re insightful enough to know that he likes to show you off a bit, not out of any self-satisfied reason - or at least, not entirely - but because he is genuinely pleased to have you as his paramour. Sitting in his lap at dinner, holding his hand as you stroll through the city, these things become as easy as breathing. Every part of you sings for Astarion, Astarion, Astarion. 
One night, he confides his fear about sexual intimacy for you. You’re so glad you didn’t give into him those times before, and tell him you’re happy to wait as long as he needs. There is no rush for you. It breaks your heart how relieved he looks. 
Were this your regular day-to-day life, a romance would have blossomed slowly. But it is not your regular life. There is no chance to feel emotions other than intensely on the road you tread, to throw yourselves into one another and be known completely. 
When Cazador Szarr dies, you are there. You told Tav you were coming, despite everyone pleading you to stay behind - there was no way you would let Astarion face him without you, and you can tell that he’s secretly relieved to have you there. You sling spells from the back line and pick off his master’s minions, one eye on the vampire lord and the other on your partner. And when the fight is over, and he is offered the possibility of ascension - he looks to you straight away. 
A little shake of your head is all that’s needed to dissuade him from the idea entirely. 
That night he cries and you hold him, so so tightly. So tightly in fact that you’re scared you’re going to hurt him. But he says nothing, he just presses his face into the place where your shoulder meets your neck and weeps, long and loud and raw and intimate. You stroke his hair and wait until he’s exhausted, then lay him down to sleep wrapped in your arms. 
He looks like the weight of the world has been lifted from him the next morning. 
When he takes you to his gravestone the two of you sit, hand-in-hand, understanding how much you have come to mean to each other. It is a sweet and intense love you have fostered, so far from the vampire who would have taken you in that alleyway on the way back from Sorcerous Sundries. 
Well, maybe not that far, because as you leave the cemetery he sweeps you up in a burning kiss, all tongues and teeth and fire. 
Oh. Tonight, then. You can do tonight. 
As you head back to the Elfsong, you get him to pause by the front desk, and he watches as you dish out the coin with shaking fingers to rent a suite for the night. You have no intention of going back to the party’s shared floor. When he realises what this means, Astarion is half elated and half trepidatious as the two of you ascend the stairs to your private room. 
“My sweet,” he says, eyes blazing salaciously but sincere in his words of comfort, “you know that we don’t have to…”
“I know. But I want to,” you tell him, utterly sure, “but only if you want to, as well. I know how you feel about… all this. If there’s even a single doubt in your mind, then—”
He kisses you so fiercely that the breath is stolen from your lungs. You don’t even realise he’s taken the keys from your hands until the door swings open and the two of you tumble back into the room, into bed. 
His mouth is hot and delicious, kissing every inch of your skin he can find. Little nips of fangs only serve to excite you. He is thorough in his exploration; lavishing attention only onto what is exposed, and it leaves you a mewling mess beneath him. 
“Astarion… please,” you beg. His eyes are heavy-lidded as he looks up at you from your chest, your sternum aching pleasantly from his ministrations. 
“Please what, little mage?”
Oh, he knows how it excites you when he calls you that. Without even thinking, your hips rut up into his. He smiles in hunger and delight. 
“Use your words, my love.”
“I need you to touch me.”
“Where?”
“Everywhere.”
This seems to satisfy him, and he tugs at your shirt until it becomes untucked from your waistband, slowly lifting it until you take it off properly. Chest bared to him for the first time with the promise of lovemaking, he slowly reaches to take a nipple in his mouth and sucks. You moan and cant beneath his body, letting his teeth graze your areola, allowing his fangs tease the soft skin he finds. When his hand reaches up to touch your lips you let them fall open easily, letting him fuck your tongue with his fingers. 
“Good… you’re so pliant, aren’t you? Naughty little thing. Desperate for me.”
This talk is driving you wild. It will kill you, you’re sure of it. You throb, actually throb, and moan as he reaches for your trousers. It’s an easy shucking and oh gods he’s taken your underwear too and then you’re lying there, bare beneath his gaze. 
He looks you up and down. Your chest heaves. 
“Like what you see?” you want it to be playful, but instead it’s full of nerves. You really, really hope he does. If your body is anything less than desirable to him you’ll be shattered. 
He senses the worry in your words and, rather than continue his work on your chest, reaches over to kiss you, slow and sweet. It’s a kiss you know well, one you’ve given him a dozen times over: a kiss of reassurance. 
“You’re divine,” he whispers. A thrill runs up you. This man - this man, who could have been carved out of marble by the gods themselves - thinks you’re divine. A surge of courage runs through you and you sweep him in for another kiss, taking his hand in yours and guiding it down your body. 
When he first touches between your legs you think you might explode. His long, dexterous fingers slowly spread you open, running along the soft seam of your cunt. You find yourself reduced to jelly, a quivering mess as he explores you for the first time. His touch is gentle, reverent, careful; his fingers find your sweetest spot and rub there for a moment until you see stars light up behind your eyes.
It’s good. So good. When he presses those fingers inside you gasp a little but he is attentive to what he does. There is no urgency as he slips in one, then two, slowly pumping you as you hope he plans to with his cock later. Your legs spread and he settles between them better, lavishing your skin with kisses and your ego with praise. 
“So lovely… so wet. I’m going to make this good for you. I’m going to empty your head of every piece of magic you know, you gorgeous thing, and replace it only with the feeling of this.”
At that he crooks his fingers upwards and you squeak as he hits a spot that sends electricity along every nerve in your body. 
“Astarion—!”
“Yes, that’s it.” He drops a kiss to your shoulder and continues his work, fucking you with his fingers. He slips in a third when he feels you’re ready enough, and when his thumb presses into your clit you know you’re hurtling towards the first orgasm someone else has ever given you. 
It’s magnificent. It’s syrupy and sweet and shocking, crashing over your body like a wild tide and dragging you out to sea with it. You come all over his hand and ride it out, pressing your cunt down into his palm and rutting up against it like a dog in heat. Astarion smiles, and though it’s lustful and heavy-lidded you can see the genuine affection for you there too, a true happiness that you’d give yourself to him like this. 
When the feeling has passed he kisses you before slowly removing his fingers and pressing them into his mouth. Your eyes go wide. 
“Astarion!” you squeak. He gives a blasé shrug. 
“I wanted to taste you. Can you really blame me? You look delicious.”
Face hot again you do the only thing you can think of: thump him playfully with one of the decorative cushions on the bed. He looks actually shocked at that before he bursts into genuine joyful laughter, and you do too - and it’s good. It’s so, so good. You’re in bed with the man you love and laughing because it’s silly and you feel safe and adored. And it occurs to you: yes, you do love him. You want to keep him happy and safe and in your arms for as long as he’ll let you, which is hopefully forever. 
“You’re wearing far too many clothes,” you point out. He looks down to where he’s still fully dressed, cock pressing achingly against the front of his trousers. 
“I suppose I am. Let’s remedy that.”
You help him remove his shirt, caressing the expanse of smooth chest he reveals, undo the laces of his bottoms and pull him free. His length stands hard and ready in front of you and it gives you a not insubstantial thrill that you’re the one who managed to do this to him. You!
You take him in your hand, carefully, and he groans. Smiling, you let your body take over - pumping him slowly and languidly, as easy a pace as he set with you. He’s a decent size and thick, something you can see fitting quite comfortably inside you. 
Emboldened, you reach forward and lick a stripe up him. Astarion arches as if he’s been electrocuted, and his hands dig into your shoulders to halt you. 
“Oh… did I do something wrong…?” you ask, but when you meet his gaze you don’t find scorn or anger. You find such unbridled, carnal desire you’re overtaken with it. 
“No. Quite the opposite. If you do that I will end up finishing in your mouth. And while it’s a lovely thought - I want this to be about you.”
You release his cock and let it bob against his stomach, moving to give him another tender kiss. 
“It’s not about me. It’s about us.”
He smiles, softly. 
“Indeed it is, my love. Indeed it is.”
He manoeuvres you, carefully, so that you’re lying back on the bed, legs spread open for him as he takes himself in his hand and rubs it against your already orgasm-drenched cunt. 
“Will it hurt?” you ask, suddenly a little scared. This is happening. It’s happening. 
But Astarion is sweet. A kiss is dropped to your shoulder, tender and reassuring.
“If it does, tell me, and I’ll stop. I swear.”
You trust him. You lie back and fan your legs open a little further, letting him press the head of his cock against your entrance and start to slide it. 
It’s an unfamiliar but welcome feeling. You’re full for the first time, in a different way to his fingers; his cock is thicker and spreads you in a far more lucious way. You gasp as he enters into you, each little thrust of his hips easing him inside deeper, and though it does sting a little the pleasure that he brings is far more easy to concentrate on. 
“Oh… oh…”  is all you can manage, and when you look up Astarion’s eyes are screwed shut in concentration, like he has to actively prevent himself from fucking you with the vigour he wants to. That’s promising. You hope the next night you spend like this will be far more wild, once you’re used to the feeling of him. 
Eventually he sinks all the way up to his base. He groans, cock throbbing inside you, totally sheathed. Together as one. His forehead presses down against yours, and he takes deep and slow inhales he doesn’t need - encouraging you to get your own breathing in sync with his, calm you down and adjust to it. 
Soon you’re used to the intrusion of him, and you nudge your hips up against his. He smiles. 
“And here I thought learning magic required patience. You seem to have none of it.”
“I’m patient when it comes to how to cast a bloody fireball, Astarion. If you don’t start moving now, I might explode.”
He chuckles again, genuine in his glee, and slowly begins to buck his hips. His cock stretches you wider, and his head grazes that sweet spot over and over. Oh, it is delicious. Your body is on fire for Astarion Ancunín and you never want to extinguish it; you want him to keep on fanning this flame forever. You will become a roaring inferno under his touch and nothing has ever seemed more appealing to you. 
“My love,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer. He peppers your neck and shoulder with kisses as he thrusts, utterly enchanted by you, fangs tracing your throat as your racing heartbeat echoes in it. 
“My love,” he replies in kind, speeding up as he can feel how soaked you’re getting. You cup his face with your hands so that you can see him properly. Oh, Astarion. Your Astarion. The moon in your sky and every star around it. 
Your cunt aches, but not from discomfort but from pleasure. You can tell you’re going to come again soon, and want it to harmonise with his own release, have the two of you crescendo together. If the way his hips are beginning to move arrythmically, erratically, you can sense he’s not far from completion either. 
“Please… inside…” you manage, and oh gods he is gone. His hips stutter as he empties himself inside of you with a little moan, flooding your cunt with hot jets of his release and toppling you over the edge with him. You sink your fingernails into his back, over his scars — those damned scars, scars he’s never going to have to be afraid of again — and cry out your pleasure.
The two of you take a moment to catch your breaths. You need it, he literally doesn’t, but feels he probably ought to take a moment anyway to let you collect your thoughts. He rolls off and lies on the bed next to you, eyes roving up and down your panting, sweat-slicked body. 
You can tell there’s a tiny hint of nervousness in him. A bite of worry that you didn’t enjoy it. To quell his mind you reach over and bring him into a slow, long, tongue-twisting kiss. He noticeably relaxes under you. 
“That was… everything,” you confess. “More of that. Please.”
He laughs. 
“Oh gods, I’ve made a monster. You’re going to be insatiable now, aren’t you?”
You playfully bite the air above his face, baring your teeth like an animal, before grimacing as your newly-abused cunt twinges. You reach between your legs and find him dripping out of you sinfully, but also that your fingers come back coated a little in red. Proof of what just happened. 
Without warning Astarion grabs your wrist and presses your bloody fingers into his mouth, sucking on them with a groan. 
“Astarion!” you shriek with a shocked giggle, reaching to grab the pillow and give him another swipe with it - but he wrestles you back into the mattress, pinning you down playfully. He kisses you again, then, and you feel the affection rolling off of him. Adoration, there’s no other word. Devoted adoration. 
“I love you, my little mage. My heart,” he confesses, in the low light of the inn’s room, face dancing in the moonlight from where the two of you didn’t bother to join the curtains. The words sound odd coming from his throat. As if he’s had no reason to say them for a long, long time. 
You’re glad you were the spark he needed. 
“I love you too.”
Whatever comes next, you’re in it together. 
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Dividers by firefly-graphics!
taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate@dhampling (lmk if you want to be added!) and those of you who seemed interested in the original lol: @the-littlest-bruja @ravenswritingroom @piperd06 @thedump1inhere @flustered-fawn @hopeful-n-sad
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dangermousie · 5 months
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2023 End of Year Post - kdrama edition
Yes, we have a some of December left, and I want to check out Death's Game but whatever. I got time for this now and not sure if I will have later so here goes.
This is only going to cover kdramas that aired in 2023; if I watched it but it was made in a different year, it’s not on the list. This was an excellent kdrama year, the likes of which we hadn't had in a long time.
DRAMAS WATCHED
In order of liking from least to most as opposed to pure quality so pls don't come for me, fans of some popular dramas that are on my nope list. Also, I am including if I’ve seen enough to make up my mind; yes I realize that’s inaccurate, but that’s my list.
33. The Escape of the Seven - this is so aggressively stupid and mean that it feels like the makers are playing a practical joke seeing how much their audience will take. This has a season 2 coming, so the answer is a lot.
32. Behind Your Touch - the FL gets superpowers by touching people's and animals' butts. Yes, you read this right. Do I really need to add anything?
31. King the Land - yes, it was a hit. Yes, it stars popular actors. I HATED IT LIKE IT TOUCHED MY BUTT TO GET SUPERPOWERS!!! Plastic people in paint by the numbers story, with about as much genuineness or retability as a barbie aisle in walmart. I never expect much from Yoona so whatever, but to have LJH go from The Red Sleeve to this boggles the mind.
30. Mrs Durian - this is so dumb that I think I lost a few IQ points watching this, but its insanity becomes entertaining - I mean what kdrama can you name where a daughter in law declares her love and lust for her mother in law at a family dinner?
29. The Matchmakers - there is nothing offensive about this drama at all. But there is nothing in the least interesting either. If elevator music took drama shape, it would be this show.
28. Destined with You - sorry, Rowoon, I am still fond of you, but you are two for two in drama duds department this year. This is a drama where I loved ep 1, liked ep 2, was indifferent to 3 and...you get the point. Each ep was worse than the one before, and I bailed before I was dragged into a cosmic singularity.
27. Oasis - great first two episodes. Unfortunately it was not a two ep show. The performances are solid but the story is just not there - the effect is like a fancy chef making an amazing sauce to put on pig slop.
26. Boyhood - it's not you, it's me in action. I can see why people would like it but a 34-year old playing a high schooler in a Weak Hero Class 1 Slapstick Edition is no go for me.
25. Castaway Diva - it's so precious and kooky in the most annoying ways, with the most well-adjusted abused castaway in history. I like magic realism when done by Jorge Amado, but this ain't Amado.
24. Island - it had a good concept, good cast and fun visuals but the execution deserved one of ML's swords through the neck.
23. The Worst of Evil - if I wanted an American show, I'd watch one. Very solid performances though.
22. Song of the Bandits - period edition of what I said about The Worst of Evil.
21. Welcome to Samdalri - and goodbye to any hope of emotional involvement.
20. Joseon Attorney - I have yet to like a single sageuk centered around a profession and this was not an exception. I guess it could be worse but it also could have been so much better.
19. Twinkling Watermelon - everyone loved this drama. Everyone except for me. It's the kind of precious that sets my teeth on edge and I couldn't stand half the main characters we were supposed to root for. I guess I like my fruits to shine steadily.
18. Our Blooming Youth - probably the biggest disappointment on this list. This is not a bad drama by any means, but with that cast and that story (I loved the novel), I was hoping for a memorable sageuk not merely all right.
17. Vigilante - it has the emotional complexity and nuance of a punch to the throat but it gives us quasi-gay openly-murderous dudes going after psychos and Yoo Ji Tae holding feral Nam Joo Hyuk by his hoodie at his feet.
16. The Forbidden Marriage - expected nothing but it was a surprisingly enjoyable trifle of a costume drama that was also quite pretty.
15. Arthdal Chronicles: Sword of Aramun - a hot mess but such an entertaining epic one. And it gave us TWO Lee Jun Kis in period gear and who am I to cavil at the bounty of God?
14. The Story of Park's Marriage - it's a trifle, a souffle, so light it might blow away, but it keeps my attention and is so fun and sweet.
13. My Lovely Liar - a huge surprise, that manages to mix a murder mystery and a romcom, and shocked me by showing Hwang Minhyun can act.
12. Tale of the Nine Tailed 1938 - the original ToNT was my fave drama of its year and I did not think it needed a sequel. But this is not a sequel but more of a side-quel and is such a total delight with brotherly love, adventures, romance and hijinks. It's a joy.
11. Perfect Marriage Revenge - it's actually very hard to do a soap right but this slim 12 ep drama managed. So fun, so crazy, such a good ship!
10. My Lovely Boxer - not really about sports, but about two broken people finding salvation because of and in each other. Also, if you like age gap romances, this is delicious. Sort of loses steam by the end but c’est la vie.
9. The Secret Romantic Guesthouse - this was a sageuk that was not on my radar with a bunch of actors I was not familiar with but it took my heart away. A good plot that was perfectly paced, characters and ships I adored, a logical ending. This is one of the biggest positive surprises of the year for me.
8. Tell Me That You Love Me - a slice of life remake (sort of, it's more "inspired by") of my favorite jdrama of all time. It's not as good as the jdrama because nothing could be, but it's an aching lovely story with some incredible performances.
7. See You In My 19th Life - funny and romantic and haunting and hopeful and odd. This was one of my favorites of the year.
6. Alchemy of Souls: Light and Shadow - it's rare for me to like a (1) sequel (2) with FL actress change (3) that is a Hong Sisters drama. But this was such a gorgeous, surprisingly achy story of love and loss and love regained with some cool monster fighting in the middle. Between the two seasons, this is the first Hong Sisters' drama I enjoyed from beginning to end in well over a decade.
5. My Demon - so tropey (chaebols, supernaturals) but it proves that these tropes are popular for a reason. The chemistry is fire, the story is unpredictable and the whole thing is an addictive delight. A rare drama where I like each new ep more than the last one.
4. Goryeo Khitan War - an old school sageuk in every meaning of the term (no romance, no eye candy, lots of bearded men, battles and politics), this feels like watching an epic movie more than a drama. The vast cast all earns their place and the performances (mainly from character actors given a chance to shine) are incredible.
3. Call It Love - two very very damaged people finding love and healing with each other. This is a narrative very hard to do to my satisfaction but when it's done well, as here, there are few things that can hold a candle to it.
2. My Dearest - a masterpiece of cinematography, narrative, performances. This is an old-school epic romance in the best sense of the term. If it doesn't make you swoon or break your heart, there is something wrong with you. A story of two untraditional, strong-willed, flawed people who fall in love in the middle of the horrifying Qing invasion of Korea and have to deal with all that the world throws at them, this is a bona fide masterpiece.
1 - Moon in the Day - who knew my favorite kdrama of the year will star a store brand Domyoji from Extraordinary You and an actress I was never familiar with. But this part period/part modern fantasy tale of doomed cursed lovers is everything I knew I wanted and everything I didn't know I wanted but did. Two lovers where their love did not save them and in modern day it might not again, has got me obsessed the way I haven't been in years.
FAVORITE DRAMA
Moon in the Day - if there is such a thing as a drama made perfectly for me, this gorgeous, emotionally haunting, utterly romantic, twisty tale is it.
WORST DRAMA
The Escape of the Seven. This drama is proof that demons exist and not sexy ones like Song Kang but horrible nasty ones who delight in the torment this hot mess inflicted on its viewers.
FAVORITE MALE CHARACTER
Do Ha, Moon in the Day - a Silla general and a consummate killer who committed atrocities on the orders of his monster father and yearned to die for them, who found the meaning in life in loving his enemy but it did not make him better, a man so obsessed he literally was around for 1500 years of horrifying ghostly existence and still went "worth it" for a woman who killed him as long as he knew she loved him while she did it. He's intense and competent and beyond fucked up and has never had a normal day and I love him so so so very much from a safe distance.
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FAVORITE FEMALE CHARACTER
Gil Chae, My Dearest - she starts out as vain and spoiled but the horrors that break so many others bring out all her fierce survivor potential and she becomes such a force of nature - capable of incredible love but also sacrifice and strength and compassion.
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Runner Up: Shin Hye Sun's reincarnator in See You In My 19th Life - quirky, damaged, strong, so odd and so vulnerable at once.
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NEEDS TO BE MURDERED
There are a lot of characters who fit that category (King Injo in My Dearest? My God) but the crown belongs to So Ri Bu from Moon in the Day. You think you've seen abusive parents but until you've seen a man abuse his son his whole life and then continue for 1500 years after his death, you ain't seen nothing!
FAVORITE SHIP
The doomed by the narrative OTP of Moon in The Day. Only thing that's better than enemies to lovers is enemies while lovers and their impossible relationship where her killing him is a supreme act of love and his refusing to let go is so strong that he stays around for 1500 years watching her, helpless as she dies over and over again, is everything you ever want.
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Runner up: Jang Hyun/Gil Chae, My Dearest. They are so strong and so damaged and it takes them so long to figure out what they feel and what the other person feels but their love and sacrifice and complexities are perfect.
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FAVORITE SECONDARY OTP
Kim Shi Yeol/Hong Joo, The Secret Romantic Guesthouse - an assassin bodyguard pretending to be a carefree scholar and a widow of the man he killed to protect his king (and whose life was destroyed as a result.) I enjoyed the main OTP of this drama but I was utterly and completely unhinged for the secondary couple.
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I'd have probably picked Rang and his mermaid from TotNT 1938 even over them, but they really were the main OTP of that drama.
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NOTP
King the Land couple seems like an easy target but honestly, they are both so terribly bland and antiseptic and marketing by committee, they kinda deserve each other. So I am gonna go with Destined with You, one half of which thinks supernaturally roofying someone into loving them is cute and the other half thinks dating one woman while wooing another is totally a-ok. Ugh.
FAVORITE SCENE
There is no competition for the scene in the slave market in My Dearest, where Jang Hyun finds Gil Chae - the way he screams and tries to clutch the hem of her skirt will live in my head forever.
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And the scene where he 'wins' that horrifying bet, or the scene where she finds him in a pile of bodies - they are as good also. Or when he fights off a squad to protect her even though he's sick. That whole drama is perfect.
Runner up: the scene of Do Ha executing Ri Ta's family, covered in blood, as she looks at him from the crowd in Moon in the Day.
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Or the scene where he talks about how he cannot live as a person but at least maybe she will kill him and he will die as one. Or when her confession in the past intercuts with his walking in the present, or when he comes home in his bloodied armor and she finds he has a fever and it's the first tender touch he's probably ever known. Her murdering So Ri Bu saying she knows she's going against filial piety in loving her parents' murderer, the way they hug, both bloody, as he says "let's live." The way she says she can't go on as she's hit rock bottom and he replies she cannot quit because she must accompany him to his rock bottom now. Honestly, the drama is a font of amazingness.
Also, the opening scene of Goryeo Khitan War or the scene of Yang Gyu ordering to shoot the captives and having to do so himself.
The OTP meeting again at the intersection at the end of ep 1 of Tell Me That You Love Me. SHS comforting ABH as he's having a traumatic breakdown in 19th Life. The love-making scene in Call It Love. There were a lot of great scenes this year.
BIGGEST CRUSH
Lee Jang Hyun, My Dearest - is that even a competition? He's flawed - vain, often emotionally closed off, not great at processing emotions, lashing out when hurt. He is also incredibly heroic in a real, knows the cost but bears it, kind of way. Whatever he does, he commits utterly but it's never without understanding the cost. He felt both larger than life and utterly real. He went through hell and maintained his soul and the way he loved Gil Chae was breath-taking to behold.
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Runner Up: Yang Gyu, Goryeo Khitan War - an experienced military commander who wins an impossible victory even as it ravages his soul. Competence is sexy as fuck.
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BEST SCENE STEALER CHARACTER
Rang, Tale of the Nine Tailed 1938 - 1938 really was Rang's chance to shine and he took it. For a character I started out disliking in the original, he really stole my entire heart in this drama. I am so glad he got his happy ending with his brother and his girl.
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Runner Up: Crown Prince, My Dearest. He started out as a sheltered, spoiled aristocrat, convinced the world owed him for existing. He grew up slowly and painfully into an amazing man. And then was murdered for it and I cried.
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NEEDS A SEQUEL
Arthdal - it leaves the story at a good stopping point but it's very much a "world in flux, adventures and conflicts continue" ending and I would love to see more of these characters. I know we won't but it would have been nice.
NEEDS SCISSORS TAKEN TO IT
Behind Your Touch - should have been snipped at birth.
TOO MANY SCISSORS TAKEN TO IT
Vigilante - I don't mean it had scissors taken to it because it's not cdrama and there is no NRTA, but this drama would have benefitted from being longer. I mean, I love fights and gay polycules as much as the next tumblr person but a bit more character development would not have come amiss. (ahaha - I said come. Leave me alone.)
TROPE THAT NEEDS TO DIE
I don't care about cops/doctors/trash collectors/whoever - workplace drama centering on their "cases" needs to die. I hate procedurals from any country and Korea is no exception.
FAVORITE TROPE WE’VE SEEN A LOT OF
Supernatural critter devoted to their OTP with all the power of their long life.
BIGGEST DISAPPOINTMENT
Our Blooming Youth - it was far from terrible but it was a giant meh. I was so excited to see Park Hyung Sik in a sageuk (that wasn't the hot mess that was Hwarang) and I adored the source novel. It actually started well and then...it's like Revenge of the Beige!
BIGGEST GOOD SURPRISE
I want to say Moon in the Day but to be honest, I was excited by posters and trailers so it wasn't wholly a surprise despite not having much of an opinion on the actors before I saw them. So I am going to say My Demon. I was bored by the trailers, I can't remember the last time I enjoyed a Kim Yoo Jung drama and before this year I would have said Song Kang was an incredibly limited actor in everything I've seen him in and not appealing to me at all. And here I am rabidly rabiding for this drama!
If I am not limiting myself to dramas but can use this for actors - Hwang Minhyun in My Lovely Liar. I genuinely did not think the man could act and then he gave such a pitch-perfect, nuanced performance out of nowhere!
2023 DRAMAS I HAVEN’T SEEN THAT I MOST WANT TO WATCH
I have actually watched all the kdramas that aired this year that I wanted to check out except for Evilive. I am saving this for when I have time.
BEST NON-2023 DRAMA I’VE WATCHED IN 2023
I don't know if I'd say it's the best but Say You Love Me (2004) with Kim Rae Won as a quasi monk seduced away from his true love by an evil older woman was a hell of a ride.
MOST ANTICIPATED
Love Song for Illusion (Lady assassin falls for her royal target who has two personalities), Captivating the King (lady spy falls for her royal target who is tormented) - notice a theme? Also Flower that Blooms at Night because Honey Lee in a sageuk, The Life of Mrs Ock (Lim Ji Yeon in a sageuk), The Love Story of Chun Hwa (an "erotic" sageuk, hmmmm, what?!), Hong Rang (Lee Jae Wook in a super angst sageuk), Queen Woo (that cast and set in Goguryeo!), Wong Kyung (about Lee Bang Won's wife and I love the cast.) Basically, if it's period, I am there with bells on.
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hamletshoeratio · 10 months
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"But no new content 😭!!" that means jack shit. We have several literal decades worth of content we can watch or rewatch. The writers and now the actors too are not only fighting for their livelihoods but for the futures and the soul of their industries.
Fuck new content, fuck the executives and producers and powers that be who make millions upon millions while the people, who create the content that make them rich, can barely make ends meet.
Here's some suggestions to anyone who doesn't know what to watch;
Nostalgia rewatch; watch old favourites, shows and movies you haven't seen in years but that stayed with you, the ones that mattered to you.
Watch the shows your parents didn't let you watch growing up because they thought the show was "too mature" for you.
Watch the shows and movies people have recommended to you that you never found time for before.
Watch indie films!!!
Look at different genres than what you've watched before and give them a go.
Try films and shows from other countries and/or in other languages. There's dubs and subtitles available and these shows and movies can be just as good if not better than their American and/or English speaking counterpart.
And remember when watching shows, that you do not have to binge them all at once, you can have your own personal tv schedule and watch say an episode a week like you would've done when/if they aired before streaming
Look at some older films and shows, why does it matter if it's in black and white or the camera quality is lower than 4k and hd, so long as it's good? And so many of those shows and films, while not perfect, have aged better than shows that have come out in the last decade, like the golden girls for instance has aged so much better than say glee (ok many many many shows aged better than glee but let's be real for a second, music was better when artists were terrified of the Glee cast doing a better version of their song on the show. I do still wish it was a show my mom didn't let me watch tho, lmao glee was fine but no, her twelve year old being obsessed with Les mis and rewatching it religiously was cause for concern 😂😭 I was just as obsessed with glee for seasons 1-4 especially).
It's ok to indulge your inner child and rewatch the classics tm. The shows and movies you grew up with. Rewatch the shows that got you through sick days from school, the tv movies you remember watching premiere, the cartoons that MADE your Saturday mornings, etc.
On the topic of animation, that's literally an unlimited genre you can tap into, which rarely gets the recognition and respect it deserves.
Don't be afraid to watch the one season wonders, the shows that networks and streamers cancelled after one season in spite of strong reviews and good ratings. Or the shows that ended abruptly around the season 3 or 5 mark because networks and streamers cancelled them because they didn't want to negotiate contracts and have to pay the actors and writers more. Get angry, remember what the actors and writers are fighting for.
The privilege of older shows that either concluded naturally or that writers were given a heads up on might be on it's last season is that you get closure, unlike with the above. That might not mean an ending is good but a bad ending is better than a cliffhanger. There's always fix its fics for a bad ending. And if the ending is good, it's typically GOOD in my experience. The fear of a cliffhanger and zero closure has already turned many against watching new content until the show is renewed for another season or is fully wrapped (and fans don't hate the ending).
Watch the shows that were in their day or are popular or critically acclaimed, they usually hold up to the hype.
Watch the old shows and movies your favs were on/in before they were your favs.
Try a soap or a telenovela, they can be entertaining af (holby city my love, Tuesdays have never been the same since the BBC robbed me of you).
If you liked a reboot or a revival of a show, try the original (in certain cases, the og is even better, see boy meets world v girl meets world).
If you like period dramas, try shows and films from other countries based on their history. A lot of times when people are telling their own history it goes far better than when Hollywood tries it (see the many times Hollywood has actors brought in because producers think they're good for box office and they then go on to butcher the accent their character should have, see Cameron Diaz, Julia Roberts, Meryl Streep and so many others who have absolutely butchered the Irish accent over the years for instance. There's also many many instances even recently of just blatant whitewashing see Matt Damon as the last samurai...).
Listen to recommendations, watch the shows and movies you know your family and friends loved but you never got around to watching.
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epinebleue · 7 months
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love me now (m) | 05
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in which you go for a night drive.
pairing: johnny suh x reader (female)
genre: established relationship!au, mature.
warnings: explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (reader’s on the pill), car sex, mention of past toxic relationships.
chapter index
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Most times, Friday nights are pretty lively.
Sometimes, you go to your favorite club, whose owner is a good friend of yours. If you’re not in the mood for clubbing, you order pizza and watch a movie before making out on the couch.
But today is different. You’re bored as hell, having lost all interest in the movie you’re supposed to be watching. Johnny must feel the same, because when you turn to look at him, he’s scrolling through his Instagram feed aimlessly with one hand, caressing your leg with the other.
“Why don’t we go out?” He suddenly says, blocking his phone and leaving it on the coffee table.
“I don’t feel like partying.”
“I didn’t mean to party.” He corrects. “Something like a night drive.”
That sounds much better, so you accept right away. You pick something comfortable, not bothering to glance at the rest of the clothes in your wardrobe. When you reach the entrance, you see that Johnny has chosen something sporty, too. He grabs his keys from the keyholder next to the intercom, opening the door for you.
“Why don’t we get McDonald’s?”
You’re unable to contain your excitement, smiling as you get in the elevator, and pushing the parking button. Johnny grabs your cheeks and kisses your forehead so delicately that you think you’ll melt in his arms.
“Anything for you, babe.”
You sit on the passenger seat, immediately demanding the aux cord. Johnny doesn’t even fight it, knowing it’ll be a waste of time. It’s a fact that you’re in charge of the music when you travel by car. It’s also a fact that won't change anytime soon.
The car starts moving, and Johnny drives towards the nearest McDonald’s.
The song you’ve chosen plays softly in the background as you observe the streetlights through the window.
“How come we’ve never done this before?” 
Johnny simply shrugs, eyes fixed on the road ahead. “Maybe it wasn’t the right time yet.”
“Wow.” You nod, feigning being impressed. “Deep.”
You open the window on your side, the night breeze hitting your face. You cross your arms over the window, your eyes drawn to the city lights that seem endless.
New York’s beauty is truly hypnotizing.
This is the city where you were born and raised; where you studied; in which you met most of your friends. It’s the city that gave you Johnny, and that makes it much more special. 
Johnny pulls into the drive-thru, steering the wheel with his palm. The technique makes your stomach tingle. He always looks so hot while driving, you could watch him for hours.
There’s only one car in front of you, so they prepare your order rather quickly. To be honest, you’ve been craving a burger, fries, and ice cream for a while, so you don’t hold yourself back. You’ll eat everything, even if it means having a stomachache later. It’ll have been worth it.
You pay, then move to the parking lot. You give Johnny his burger, which is huge, and fish for your fries at the bottom of the bag.
“I remember that when I was little,” Johnny says, “I celebrated my birthday at McDonald’s. They even gave me a paper crown.”
“That’s what I call luxury.”
“Mom sent me the photo yesterday.”
Johnny takes his phone out of his pocket, scrolling down the gallery until he finds said picture. A big smile crosses your face when he shows it to you.
Johnny couldn’t be more than six years old. His round face is the first thing you notice. Then, you look at his mom, who is holding him in her lap. She looked so pretty with her short hair and dark lipstick. In all honesty, she hasn’t changed much. They’re both wearing a paper crown shaped like a clown.
“Your mom’s so beautiful.”
“What about her son?”
He leans forward, brushing your cheek with the tip of his nose.
“He’s even more beautiful.”
Johnny kisses you, satisfied with the answer. He loves compliments, especially if they come from you. He gets all shy and smiley, and his cheeks go pink.
It’s crazy to think that, when you met Johnny, you found him a bit intimidating. He was tall and only wore black clothes, plus his resting bitch face didn’t help at all. But once you started talking and got to know each other better, you realized he was a human-shaped teddy bear rather than a jerk.
His voice snaps you out of your memories and brings you back to the present time.
“What if I buy another burger?”
You gasp, laughing in disbelief. “Babe, no!”
“Why not?” He mops, discharging the wrap on the empty bag placed in between the seats.
“One is enough.” You insist.
“They’re small! Two is the perfect amount.”
“They seem small because your hand is huge. If you eat another one, cholesterol will atrophy your arteries and, eventually, you’ll die.” Your tone is so serious that Johnny starts laughing seconds later, covering his face with his hands. “Why are you laughing? I’m right!” Now you’re laughing, too.
“That was so mean!”
“It's a medical fact, Johnny!.”
“Fine, you convinced me.”
Once you’ve finished your meal, Johnny drives aimlessly around the city before deciding where to go next. There’s a park from which you can see New York’s skyline, so that’s the destination. Johnny manages to find a secluded spot from which you have a nice view of the city, along with some privacy.
“This might be the best idea I’ve had this week.”
“Or this month.”
Your soft laughs fill the car for a few seconds before going back to silence. Johnny glances in your direction, watching you get lost in the stars and the lights of the city that watched you grow up.
“Everything okay?”
You hum, nodding. “I’m just… reminiscing.”
“A penny for your thoughts.”
You take a deep breath, your eyes never darting away from the view beneath you.
“During my last year of high school, I dated this boy. He was handsome and so, so funny. He treated me like a queen and sometimes made me wonder if he had just jumped right out of a fairy tale. We had the most romantic six months and then, he left me. He never said why, he didn’t even dare to break up with me in person. He told my best friend and asked her to give me the message.”
“What a fucker.” Johnny mumbles.
“For the longest time, I thought I was the problem because I wasn’t pretty enough, sexy enough, smart enough for him. I felt so worthless and sad that I kind of started to drift away. I allowed pretty fucked up things to happen to me that I’ve tried to forget.” Johnny grabs your hand, caressing the palm with his thumb. You’ve got his full attention. “Years later, I started dating again, but I… I was scared all the time. Not that they were horrible people, I was just afraid that they would leave me and make me return to the toxic relationship I had with myself. And then, you came around.”
You turn your head, looking for Johnny’s eyes. He’s looking at you with those fond orbs that you adore.
“Not once have you made me doubt myself. In any way.”
He cups your cheeks and pecks your lips, moving away just enough for you to look him in the eye again.
“I’ll never give you a reason to be scared.”
You give him a reassuring smile.
“I know.”
Slowly, Johnny starts kissing you, his lips soft and warm. The tip of his tongue touches your mouth and you open it, giving him full access. His wet muscle brushes yours and, delicately, Johnny holds the back of your neck, pulling you closer. You reach for his T-shirt, your clouded mind looking for the craved contact, any kind of contact.
“I need you.” He mumbles against his lips, and it’s all you need to hear.
You straddle his lap, trying to find a comfortable position in the driver's seat of the car. Johnny’s basketball shorts are thin enough to let you feel his boner against your core, and you find satisfaction in the fact that he’s just as worked up as you are. Wrapping his arms around your waist, Johnny squeezes you against his clothed chest, so tightly that you don’t know where you start and where Johnny ends.
You could get caught, you could get arrested, but none of that fades you. Right now, the only thing in your mind is Johnny. Johnny licking the length of your neck, Johnny biting where he knows it’ll make you hiss his name. You drag your hips, humping his boner, and when Johnny moans against your mouth, the little clarity you have slips through your fingers like water.
“What about taking this to the back?”
Johnny’s nod is enough of an answer. Before you know it, you’re making your way into the backseat, Johnny on your heels.
Your hands untie the lace of your sweatpants the moment you fall on the seat, Johnny lingering in the door, watching you. You take them off under his gaze, pressing your back against the door behind you and opening your legs to let him peek at the wet patch in your underwear. It’s not long before you take it off, too, the crisp air making you shiver.
“You’re going to drive me crazy.”
“Come and punish me, then.”
You straddle his lap once again when Johnny gets in the car, your lips crashing against his. He looks for the door’s handle in the dark, slamming it, before taking off both his shorts and boxers in a swift movement.
You feel Johnny’s hand sneaking in between your bodies, then he’s forcing his length into you.
New York is a beautiful city, especially at night, but you’ve got the best view in front of you. Johnny lets his head fall back, his pretty mouth open and gasping for air as you start bouncing on his cock without warning, too eager to wait.
Johnny looks at you through half-opened eyes, his hands falling on your waist to give a particularly rough thrust that makes you gasp.
“You’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen.” He whispers against your neck. “Especially when I’m balls-deep inside you.”
“I’m even prettier when you make me cum.”
Johnny’s fingers dig into your ass, guiding you up and down his cock.
“Is that so?”
You nod, biting your lips at the feeling of his tip hitting that spot that makes you go feral.
“You should see for yourself.”
Johnny takes it seriously, hugging your waist and fixing you in place, his pace getting quicker.  
You didn’t expect to get railed in the backseat of his car when he offered a midnight drive, but here you are, wishing you were completely naked to scratch his broad shoulders, back, and chest, which he loves.
Today, he’ll have to settle for the mark of your teeth in his collarbone.
He pants in your ear, his hot breath fanning the droplets of sweat that decorate your neck like diamonds. You whine and wiggle, trying to break free from his grip.
“I want to ride you.”
Johnny usually makes you beg a little more, so you’re pleasantly surprised when he lets go of your waist.
You grind back and forth, making the most out of this new freedom he has granted you. It’s so hot inside the car that the windows are all fogged and your top sticks to your body. You take it off, much to Johnny’s delight, who grabs your breasts and squeezes them.
His hands move up and reach your sweaty neck, pushing away the strands of hair glued to the skin to lock one of them behind it. He uses it to hold you down, retraining your movements.
You open your mouth to protest, but he kisses you before you can say anything, rubbing your clit with his free hand, making you tremble, a choked moan ricocheting against the walls of the vehicle.
“Sorry, baby.” He says even though he’s not sorry at all, thrusting faster. “You can be in charge another time.”
The brutal pace of both his hips and hand is enough to make you forget why you were mad in the first place. He pounds into you as if you hadn’t had sex in months, he growls like an animal when you try to fuck him back, eyes shut close to focus on the feelings of his cock making its way into you over and over again.
Your legs hurt, yet you don’t want to stop.
You don’t last long, white sparkles dance around in the darkness when you reach your high.
Johnny fucks you through it for as long as he can, pressing his hips to yours as he fills you up, your name in his mouth like a song.
You rest your head on his shoulder, allowing him to caress your hair, you both trying to catch your breaths.
“Was that good?”
“I’ve got your cum inside me.” You remark. “So there’s your answer.”
Johnny’s chest shakes with his laugh, scratching your scalp with his fingertips. You would fall asleep if it wasn’t for his voice breaking the silence.
“Promise me you won’t freak out.”
“What?”
“There’s a car parked right next to us.”
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No reposting or translations allowed.
© epinebleue 2023
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meowmeowriley · 1 month
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Elder Emo
Ghost had been lost in thought, planning out his lessons for the following day, when he'd passed a room in the barracks and faintly heard music. Paramore? Normally he'd hear rock, pop, or occasionally something in Japanese. Not emo. Not what he'd been expecting, but a pleasant little throwback for him. He smiled to himself as he made to walk away, taking a mental note to pull up his old playlist and get lost in nostalgia later. But then he caught a bit of the conversation happening in the room.
"No she didn't tell me what it was all for, I stole it, dipshit."
"Why does she need 700 different eyeliners?"
"Are they different? Or is she just a hoarder?"
"Nah, mate. Some are like sticks, crayons, others are liquid. This one says eyeliner, but it looks like the eyeshadow stuff."
"That eyeshadow stuff is useless. Comes off too easily."
The two men were crowded around one's bed, it had been littered with a bunch of makeup, and they didn't seem to know what each was for.
"This is stupid."
"You said you wanted to finally have your emo phase, this is where it starts." The second man picked up a bottle of liquid eyeliner and leaned in close to the mirror, posed to paint his lower waterline with it. Ghost could no longer keep quiet.
"That's a mistake." His voice cause both recruits to jump, scrambling to salute. He rolled his eyes, but returned the gesture, if only to release the two.
He approached the bed scattered with makeup. Ghost couldn't say that he'd ever spoke to either of them, but he'd be damned if he didn't set them on the right path before they fucked themselves over here. "The liquid is for around your eyes, gives a bolder look than the stick. It's not for your waterline, you'll give yourself an eye infection like that." He handed the first soldier his choice in liner from the menagerie before them. "The liquid is bolder, but it smears, not smudges. If you're going for emo, you'll want a smudged look, the stick is better. Lay it on thick, and use your fingers to spread it around and smudge it out. And if it says waterproof, believe it. You'll need makeup remover to get that off." He said that last bit pointedly. If it weren't for regs, he'd let them just leave it like he had. Day old eyeliner that you slept in after a concert always looked so much cooler than when it had been freshly applied, at least in his opinion. Then another thought occurred to him. "Who'd you steal all this from?"
"Uhm... my sister... sir." The first man admitted sheepishly.
"Hmmm." Better a sibling than another soldier. "Give it back. You're in the army. You've been issued war paint, use that." He shrugged. Then added "I do."
The pair were quiet, clearly still not quite sure what was happening. "As you were." Ghost nodded and started to take his leave.
The second cleared his throat. "Uh... ahem... any uh... any music recommendations?"
Ghost turned in the doorway. He thought for a moment, and then "Well, you're listening to Paramore. If you want music from the same time, there's always Hawthorne Heights or Blink-182. You want something heavier look into Breaking Benjamin. Or more upbeat go for All Time Low. If you want something newer, Twenty One Pilots just released some new songs, or there's TX2, who draws a lot of inspiration from the greats. That's a start."
Both men smiled. The first spoke up. "Thank you, sir. This'll be a lot easier with an elder emo around."
Elder emo? Who- oh. Ohhhhh. When? How did that happen? He wasn't supposed to make it this far. Huh.
"Anytime." He nodded as he left them. He tried not to let his emotions show as he made his way down the hall, but internally he was brimming with pride. He'd made it so much further than anyone had ever thought, especially himself. It took a couple of baby emo's for him to see it, but he'd made it. He was still here. Despite the odds.
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sevcasejay1chicago · 5 months
Text
We chose you- Matt, Kelly, Jay
Summary: You hear Erin Lindsey bad mouthing you in the bathroom at Molly’s. She opens up old wounds that only your boys can heal.
Warnings: cursing, mentions vomiting, diabetic
Authors note: Here it is my loves. This is a request from an anonymous friend. I hope you enjoy!
——————
Molly’s was packed. Stella was hosting her monthly karaoke night. The night was young, the drinks were cold, and the people were packed in the bar. You were sat at a back table with Jay, Will, Matt, Kelly, and Natalie. The music wasn’t the worst your group had heard, but that was the last thing on your mind. You and Will Halstead were up next. You had lost a bet to him earlier that day, so now you were stuck singing We Are Never Getting Back Together by T-Swift. Will won the bet, which got you on stage. The catch was that you got to pick the song.
When Stella loudly announced your song and called you and Will up, you practically had to be dragged away. You couldn’t believe that you had been talked into this. Hopefully the liquid courage would be enough.
About half way through the song, you realized that a very drunk Erin Lindsey with flirting with Kelly and Jay. Their attention was solely on her and, from the looks of it, they were not pushing her away. You felt anger rise in your chest, but locked eyes with Will and kept singing.
Once the song was over, you handed your mic to Will and stormed off into the bathroom. Reaching a stall, you immediately went in and sat down, grabbing toilet paper to blot the tears away in hopes of Matt not noticing that you had been crying. You figured Kelly and Jay wouldn’t notice, given that they were entertaining Erin.
Suddenly, you heard giggling as the door swung open. You huddled up with your feet above the view from under the door, hoping that nobody knew you were there.
“They could do so much better than her.” Erin slurred, giggling as Hailey Upton handed her a wet paper towel.
“Erin.” Hailey sighed, crossing her arms as she watched her drunk companion dab the paper towel on the back of her neck.
“What? She’s not as pretty as me. She has WAY more issues than me. I mean, I could hide my feelings for the most part. She’s just so whiny. I even feel bad for Matt.” Erin slurred, slapping the paper towel onto the counter and scoffing loudly. “They just pity her. Why have her when they could have me?” Erin asked as she walked out of the bathroom.
Hailey muttered something under her breath before she gave her reply, which got drown out by the music and then the door shutting behind her. You, however, were completely horrified. Deep down, you knew she was just talking shit. Right?
Pulling yourself together, you made your way back to your table and practically sat yourself in Matt’s lap as you eyed Kelly, Jay, Erin, and Hailey. You laid your head on his shoulder as you took a sip of his water.
“You okay baby?” Matt asked, lifting your hair from the back of your neck as he felt the heat coming from you.
“I don’t feel good. Can we go home?” You whispered in his ear before laying your head back onto his shoulder.
Matt rubbed your back and nodded. “Absolutely. Let me go collect the guys.” He replied, starting to stand and hand you off to Will to keep you company.
“Just leave them. Will can fill them in and Upton can bring them home.” You said, pouting at Matt. “I really don’t feel good and I wanna go home.” You whined, giving him your best puppy dog look, though you were literally getting nauseous by seeing the way Erin was all over them.
Matt eyed you and finally gave in with a nod to Will. “Alright baby. Come on. Let’s get you home.” Matt said, standing with you braced against his chest, kissing the top of your head.
After a short goodbye to the people at your table, Matt guided you through the crowded bar and out of the side door. He kept his hands on your waist and almost laughed when you breathed in a lungful of the cool night air. From there, he picked you up, bridal style, and carried you to Jay’s truck, easily depositing you into the front seat and buckling you in.
“Just tell me if you need me to pull over, ‘kay?” Matt told you, cupping your burning face in his palms.
“Kay.” You hummed closing your eyes and enjoying the coolness of his hands. You had to hold back a whine when he moved back and closed the door, missing the coolness of his hands and the comfort he brought you.
Matt drove home with your hand in his, making sure to be easy on his stops and turns. When he parked the truck, he looked over to notice that you were asleep with your head leaned against the back of the seat, your face toward him. Instead of waking you up, Matt quietly took you out of the car and carried you inside. He tried to gently undress you, but you woke with a start when the cool air hit your chest.
“Shhhh. I’m just changing your clothes baby.” Matt soothed, leaning over you to make eye contact. He could see the fear in your eyes until you recognized him. An old PD casing coming back to haunt you if Matt had to guess.
You breathed a sigh of relief and nodded, laying back again. “I’m good. I’m ‘Kay.” You slurred, still pretty drunk and very much half asleep.
Matt nodded. “Okay baby. I’m almost done and then we can go to bed.” Matt whispered, quickly changing you into one of his shirts before laying you against your pillow. “Need anything?” Matt asked sweetly, tucking the blankets around your shoulders.
You thought back to Erin’s comment and quickly shook your head, almost regretting how much it hurt to do so. “‘M good. Go back n have fun.” You whispered, starting to turn over and go to sleep.
Matt chuckled and started taking off his clothes. “No ma’am. I’m staying here with you.” Matt said, tossing his clothes in the hamper, along with yours. “Let’s remove your makeup so that your eyes aren’t irritated in the morning.” Matt proposed, walking toward the bathroom for your makeup wipes.
You wiped silent tears from your face as the feeling of being a burden almost immediately tried to swallow you whole. You weren’t completely sure if he was doing this out of habit or obligation after hearing Erin’s comments. “You don’t have to.” You said, trying to make your voice sound strong.
Matt came back in the room, wipes in hand. “Baby.” Matt cooed, immediately coming to your side. “Shhh. It’s alright.” Matt shushed, taking you into his arms as you shook with a sob. “Baby. What’s wrong? You feel sick?” Matt asked, knowing throwing up was a major fear of yours. You did, so when you nodded, you weren’t exactly lying. “Need to go to the bathroom?” Matt asked with a hum, staying calm to hopefully promote the same feeling within you.
You shook your head. “Sleep.” You whispered, sniffing and pulling yourself together.
Matt nodded. “Okay hunny. Hang on.”
Your loving boyfriend then proceeded to wipe your face clean of makeup and tears. Holding the wipe to your nose to blow after the crying made you sniffly. Then he tucked you back into bed and kissed your forehead.
“I’ll be right back to cuddle sweetheart.” Matt promised. He was only gone for a few minutes before he returned with some water, meds for your hangover tomorrow morning, and a trash can. “Trash can will be on the nightstand if you wake up feeling sick.” Matt said, placing it on his side of the bed, which meant you would end up waking him if you got sick in the night.
Matt finally slid into bed, plugged in your phones and turned out the lights. You weren’t going to object when Matt immediately pulled you into his arms since he initiated the contact. Instead, you got comfortable and fell into a fitful sleep.
You barely stirred when Jay and Kelly stumbled in at 5 am, but you were immediately hit with the smell of alcohol when you woke a few hours later. Luckily, Matt was already up and cooking in the kitchen, so he didn’t hear when you made a mad dash for the bathroom and threw up everything you consumed the night before. Afterwards, you brushed your teeth and showered, needing to make sure that the smell of vomit didn’t linger and to calm your racing heart. You brushed again before going out to join Matt in the kitchen.
For the next several days, you dodged Kelly and Jay. Constantly making an excuse to not be in the same room as them. You even went to bed early every night and slept on Matt’s side of the bed to ensure that the other two wouldn’t touch you at night. Every time you saw the boys do something for the other or heard them talking to each other in a loving way, your heart twisted in sadness. They sound and look so happy when you aren’t bothering them. The thought made you physically sick, which led to more vomiting and skipping meals, claiming that you had a big lunch or ate a snack.
However, you failed to notice that the boys were in fact taking notice of your presence, or lack thereof. It was bothering them, but they weren’t going to push you. They knew that you had your moments when you needed to be left alone, so they did just that until they couldn’t anymore.
A week after the incident at Molly’s, the boys were setting up their Friday night date night. They figured, since you haven’t wanted to be around them, that you wouldn’t want to be around other people. They were just finishing setting up when you walked through the door. Everyone stopped and looked at you. You were frozen in place, pale as a ghost and trembling as you breathed erratically. Everyone stayed frozen for a moment until you threw your stuff on the counter and ran for the bathroom.
All three boys were hot on your heels. Matt got there first, pressing you against his side with one hand and keeping your ponytail back with the other as you bent at the waist over the toilet. You were still hyperventilating and shaking.
“Shhhhh. It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here.” Matt shushed, lightly rubbing your right side. It seemed odd that he could feel your ribs after only a week of barely touching you.
Jay and Kelly were moving about the master bathroom, both getting things you normally liked when you were sick. Jay eventually came over with a wet wash cloth and laid it over the back of your neck while taking your temp with the forehead thermometer.
“No fever.” Jay announced, reaching up to rub your back. He startled slightly when you flinched. You have never flinched when any of the boys touched you, when your sober anyway. Jay and Matt made eye contact when it happened, but were quickly drawn back to you as you heaved loudly.
“I-hmmm. Just l-leave, Pl-hukk.” You tried to plead, being cut off by a gag.
“No way.” Kelly said, taking you by the hips. You were swaying slightly now, the hyperventilating, plus the heaving and you locking your legs was clearly causing you to lose your balance. “Kneel down baby.” Kelly coached, pushing your hips slightly down to lead you onto your knees.
“Mm-m.” You shook your head, moving closer to Matt. “G-go. Ju-out!” You tried to exclaim, but it ended in a whisper as you sagged into Matt’s arms.
“Woah!” Matt said, catching you and lowering you to the ground.
Kelly immediately took a towel down and pillowed your head with it. Jay knelt down to check your pulse as Matt helped Kelly pull you into the recovery position.
“Pulse is strong but tacky.” Jay announced, keeping a hold of your wrist.
“Y/n? Open your eyes.” Matt called, tilting your face upwards to open your airways more.
You didn’t respond. Kelly took out the blood pressure machine and handed Jay the glucose monitor. The exchange was done silently and the devices were used immediately. Jay gasped as your blood sugar came up on the small device.
“Holy shit. It’s 45!” Jay exclaimed, immediately diving for the bag and pulling out the glucagon and spraying it into your nose.
“BP is pretty high for her, which makes since with a blood sugar that low.” Kelly commented, standing to run to the kitchen and grab you some orange juice.
“Let’s take her to the living room. Can you grab the trash can just in case?” Matt asked Jay, shifting you into his arms as you began to stir. “Shhhhh. We gotcha.” Matt murmured as Jay nodded and grabbed the first aid kit and trash can, following Matt out into the living room.
Matt barely had you laid down when you woke up. Immediately, you attempted to get up, still feeling nauseous and kinda flighty. You felt like a caged animal needing to escape.
“Hey hey hey. No baby.” Matt exclaimed, pushing you back down. “You just passed out from low blood sugar. Kelly is getting you some juice I think.” Matt soothed, sitting down next to you.
“M fine.” You said, trying to push yourself up again.
“Bullshit.” Kelly said, walking into the room with Jay behind him.
“Fine my ass.” Jay muttered, ripping open one of your zofrans and giving it to you.
You took the Zofran and sipped on the orange juice that Kelly brought in. Everyone was staring at you, but you averted your gaze as you began to connect the dots on what just happened. You knew what was coming next.
“Alright. Spill. What’s been going on with you lately?” Jay asked, sitting on the coffee table and trying his best not to seem intimidating.
You shook your head. “Nothin.” You said, trying to sound normal.
“No. That’s not an answer.” Kelly said, coming to kneel next to you. “You’ve been avoiding us, mostly me and Jay, for a week now. What did we do?” Kelly asked, pleading with his eyes.
“You really wanna know??” You exclaimed, hands trembling from more than low blood sugar. “I’m just surprised you haven’t gone back to Erin. I’m sure she’s still in town.” You scoffed.
“What?” Kelly and Jay both said.
“At Molly’s, she was flirting with you and you were flirting back. Then you didn’t come home until 5 am.” You had tears streaming down your face. “Erin didn’t know I was crying in the bathroom when she told Hailey how much better she is than me and how sorry she feels for you guys for having a needy girlfriend.” You explained, hastily wiping the tears from your face.
“Baby, we-“ Jay started, but you shoved the orange juice into his hand and reached for the trash can instead.
Matt pulled your pony tail back again as Kelly reached over to steady the trash can. You were just panting heavily, but saliva was dripping into the trash can along with your tears. Luckily, the Zofran was completely dissolved under your tongue.
“Shhhhhh. Breathe baby. Slow down.” Matt soothed, rubbing your back. “Let it pass baby. Just breathe and let it pass. You’ve gotten yourself all worked up.” Matt whispered, letting you keep the trash can as long as you needed to, but hoping that this was just nausea from anxiety.
You nodded, spitting and letting Kelly take the trash can. You immediately turned into Matt and hid your face in his neck. You let yourself sob, having been pent up for too long. You missed this. You missed your boys.
“Baby. We chose you.” Jay said, placing a hand on your back. “She did try, but we chose you and Matt.”
“We would never chose her.” Kelly said, sitting down next to Matt. “We had our fun, but that was the past. You and Matt are our future.” Kelly explained, placing a hand on Matt’s thigh.
“And we love taking care of you. We love that you love us enough to trust us with anything.” Matt said, planting a kiss on the side of your head. “I knew they wouldn’t leave us because I know how much they love us. How much they love you.” Matt whispered.
Tag list:
@treehouse-mouse
@shadowmeadowsworld
@sorry-i-spaced
@zephyrmonkey
@allisonargent144
@amie134
@lane-rodgers-barnes
@pensfan5871
@dumb-fawkin-bitch
@marvel-and-chicago-fan
@daggersquadphantom
@mattangel11
@stellakiddsblog
@100yroldteenagers
@senjoritanana
220 notes · View notes
captain-mj · 5 months
Note
G’day Captain can I please request soap and ghost trying to shower together while on leave or after a mission but one of them (Ghost) has the water way to hot so the other (Soap) just sits in the bathroom keeping each other company and giving reassurance that they’re both alive and okay. hurt/comfort or full fluff up to you, gen or teen not explicit please just after some comforting vibes after the game that shall not be mentioned.
Have a great timezone!
Yeah I can write some gentle fluff! Also I saw your second ask and I appreciate it! We're all good dw :)
Ghost and Soap had just spent the past six weeks in the middle of nowhere and Ghost wanted nothing more than to just take a hot shower.
Soap hissed the moment he touched the water. He had been lucky enough to get in a few hours earlier and shower beforehand, but he was clingy as hell after missions, not that Ghost was any better. "Jesus, Simon. Think you could get it any hotter?"
"No. I tried."
Soap groaned and looked at the water and then his skin which had taken a bright red hue. "Yeah, I'm not getting in that."
Ghost finished undressing and got into the water. Any other day, he may have turned the water down so Soap could join but his back hurt too much. He started to wash himself, feeling some humanity sink back into him.
Soap sat at the sink and started to brush his teeth. He listened to Ghost scrub himself clean. "Use the conditioner I brought."
"I don't get why." Ghost grumbled but Soap could hear the bottle opening. "It's just hair."
"I like my men well groomed." Soap answered and rinsed his mouth out. He waited there silently, just listening to the sounds of Ghost.
Ghost hummed softly and Soap closed his eyes.
"Given up by Linkin Park?"
"Bingo."
"Think you could scream for seventeen seconds?"
Ghost mused over it. "Nah. Probably not." He changed the song and it took Soap a lot longer this time.
"Addicted to you by Saving Able?"
"I've let you listen to too much of my music."
"Probably. Let me try." Soap started to hum. He kept with the older rock vibe since he wanted Ghost to have a change. He got two notes out.
"Lips of an Angel by Hinder. I don't like that song. Do another one."
Soap laughed and tried a different one. It was a popular one but Ghost wasn't guessing it. He started to sing the lyrics too.
"Seriously? You don't know Here Comes the Sun by the Beatles?"
Ghost opened the curtain, smiling. Soap brightened and looked him over. "Course I know it. I just like hearing you sing." He pulled on some boxers, stretching. Soap knew he needed to do something or else Ghost would get dressed and put the mask back on, so he attacked him. He kissed along Ghost's face and got his attention.
Simon grumbled but melted right into him. "Johnny..." He pulled him closer. "I'm so glad you're here."
Johnny kissed him softly, running his fingers through Ghost's wet hair. "I know. Glad I can finally be with you again."
They held each other close and hummed softly. Soap traced his fingers over his scarring and Simon purred. "Johnny, you wanna lay down? We can put on a movie."
"Sounds great." Soap walked with him, holding his hand. "Maybe one of your old horror movies?"
"I love you, Johnny."
Soap kissed Ghost's hand and walked with him to Ghost's bedroom. He pressed into him and they snuggled up together. Ghost picked something random. Soap couldn't remember it at least.
They snuggled up together and ended up falling asleep
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dear-satan · 1 year
Text
heavy metal lover
vendetta!Leon Kennedy x fem!Reader
summary: you decide to go to a heavy metal band concert, where you meet Leon and end up fucking in his jeep warning: 18+ only please, age difference, dirty talking
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From an early age your taste in music was quite…. Strange. From childhood, your parents instilled in you a love of "heavier" sounds and bands like AC/DC, Iron Maiden and Metallica were no strangers to you. You grew up listening to this kind of music, but it wasn't as if you didn't know the popular radio hits that your friends listened to. Nor did you turn up your nose at various parties or discos, swaying to the sound of disco or other funky tunes that left no room to dance on the dance floor. You've also stopped by a couple of concerts of bands whose names you didn't even know, to accompany your friends to this amazing fun….
It's a shame, however, that this only worked one way.
When you found out that your favourite heavy metal band was playing in your area, you fainted with happiness. You almost immediately bought a ticket and informed your parents of your attendance, assuring them that you would not be going alone, which was a big lie. Despite many requests, harmless blackmail or playing on your emotions, none of your friends agreed to go to the concert with you, using various excuses. "I have to look after my younger sister", "I already have an appointment". - these were the most common explanations you heard. An idea even crossed your mind, we to join some groups and go with other young people, which you almost immediately gave up. You weren't that brave and so you just stood in the huge field in front of the stage alone, holding a plastic cup of beer.
"And what am I supposed to do all this time?" you mutter to yourself while checking in with yourself, looking at the watch on your phone. There were still forty minutes until the concert started and you had no idea what to do in that time. You'd already had three, maybe four beers, giving you the courage to spend the rest of the evening among a crowd of unknown people jumping and shouting the words of the songs played by the band. You shook your head with a choke as you sipped your drink twisting your face into a slight grimace at the end. "Fuck this shit."
"Aren't you too young to drink, kid?" a low, slightly hoarse voice reached your ears at which you turned suddenly. Your eyes immediately met the blue irises of a rather tall guy crossing his arms over his chest. His dark fringe fell over one part of his face adding to his seriousness and causing a warm shiver to travel down your spine.
"And aren't you too old to come to places like this?" you replied, shrugging your shoulders. A slight smile appeared on his face and he shook his head, pulling out a breastplate from his leather jacket which immediately caught your attention.
"Would you like some?"
"I shouldn't mix. Besides, I don't take anything from unknown, older guys." You lifted your chin up slightly. Yes, definitely the alcohol you had drunk so far was giving you courage.
"In that case. Kennedy, Leon Kennedy." He extended a hand towards you which you immediately shook. It was big… Much bigger than yours which made it fit perfectly. His skin was soft and the warmth it gave you a tingling sensation in your stomach. "What's your name, kid?"
"Y/N.. And I'm not a kid."
"In that case… How about a doll? Better?" you rolled your eyes however a slight smile crept onto your lips. Not knowing why, but that nickname sounded incredibly good in his mouth. "So now that we know each other…. So what do you say, do you want something stronger?"
・・・・★・・・・★ ・・・・
"Holy shit, Kennedy…" You groaned feeling his flexing fingers inside you. You tightened your hands on his leather jacket gently lifting your hips giving him better access. You didn't know at what exact moment drinking Jack Daniels together turned into hot kisses on his lap in the black jeep parked near the field or even when your trousers along with your panties were on the seat next to him. You just let yourself lose yourself in it.
"Such an good little girl." he purred in your ear clasping his free hand on your exposed buttock. He was not drunk and the sight of you in such a state drove him to a state of near intoxication. "Fuck, such a tight pussy just for me." He pushed his fingers all the way in, listening to the loud moaning coming out of your mouth. With his thumb he began to roll small circles on your swollen clit. "Show what a little slut you are."
You clenched your eyelids with a swish letting the air out of your mouth, it was sick. You had just let a stranger fuck you in his car, but you had no desire to stop it. The tone of his voice, the firm grip of his hands…. Shit, even his leather jacket and emo fringe worked on you like a good intoxicant.
"Please… The concert is about to begin…" the heat in your belly was accumulating with every second of his caresses. You were so damn wet and the walls of your pussy yearned to clamp down on something much bigger.
"Impatient girl, huh?" he sneered removing his fingers to bring them to your lips "Open."
You followed his order. Without even giving you a second he pushed them violently into your mouth allowing you to taste yourself. You, like an obedient doggie, began to suck his fingers while your hands slowly unbuckled the belt holding his trousers. It didn't matter how fucking bad your behaviour was or if remorse would get you the next day - you just wanted to feel his cock in your begging pussy. You didn't give a shit anymore how much the concert was about to start. You wanted him. You craved the feel of fucking Leon Kennedy.
You easily managed his belt and then the fastening of his jeans, and to your eyes appeared a really sizable bulge on his soaked white boxers. Leon apparently enjoyed your greediness so he didn't even think of interrupting you. He was happy to cede the initiative to you himself, relishing your soft tongue still roaming over his fingers, causing another quiet sigh to fall from his lips.
"Excites you to fuck a toddler in a car, huh?" you grabbed the elastic of his underwear pulling it down thereby allowing his cock to bump against his black t-shirt.
"O-ouch, shut up." he growled nervously pressing his back into the chair. He grabbed your hips and lifted them so that your entrance was right above him. Without waiting a second longer he forcibly dropped them, entering you up to your balls. "God… Such a good whore. Tell me, any of your young friends fucked you yet?" He watched as you wriggled on his cock trying to get used to its size. "Or maybe I'm your first, huh? How would your daddy react if he found out his little girl lost her virginity in the car of some guy his age?" he began to make quick, rather aggressive movements sliding out of you halfway to enter then all the way in.
You answered nothing, unable to string together a single, decent sentence. Instead, you threw your head back, catching the steering wheel with your hand, wanting to maintain at least some stability while riding him. God, just the feel of his cock made you feel so many different emotions, but when you added his fingers rubbing your thirsty and throbbing clit, you felt like you were in heaven. Your whole attention was now focused on him and the pleasure he was giving you. Not on your own conscience, not on possibly being caught by people passing by. Your world now revolved solely around your heavy metal lover and also the fulfilment that was approaching with his every thrust.
"I-I'm… I'm s-so close…" you gasped out as you felt his movements on your clit accelerate. His other hand, hitherto resting on your hip went around your neck, clenching hard enough to leave marks.
"C'mon Y/N, c-come for me." he hissed, feeling your orgasm approaching.
A few thrusts further your body went through a wave of pleasure and your pussy began to clamp down on his swollen cock, which also began to pulsate. You moaned loudly as trickles of cum spilled inside you wanting to hold this wonderful moment for as long as possible. The pressure of his hand on your neck diminished, allowing you to helplessly sink down onto Leon's rapidly rising chest. Closing your eyelids you took in his scent while his hand on your back brought you back to earth.
"For an old guy you're pretty good at this." you couldn't help but make a mischievous comment to which he just laughed, patting your back.
"I'll take that as a set…" He took the liberty of placing a small kiss on the top of your head. Willingly, he helped you off his lap so that you sat down on the seat next to him, bringing himself to order, which he also did with himself. "So, doll, shall we go? I think we've still got a chance to push our way to the front somewhere."
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proxima-writes · 1 year
Text
change your mind
Pairing: Eddie Munson/Reader
Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)
Word Count: 6,575
Read on AO3
Summary:
Five times Eddie Munson asks you to marry him, and the one time you say yes.
Author’s Note: This is meant to be read after “nothing else matters”, but can be read as a stand alone.
Additional tags: rockstar Eddie Munson, high school sweethearts, marriage proposal, loss of virginity, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, pet names, semi-public sex, idiots in love
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— 1 —
It’s the summer of 1984 when you first really meet Eddie Munson.
Sure, you’ve seen him around school. You’ve heard his cafeteria monologues. You’ve even seen him and his band perform at the talent show. But he’s always been just beyond your orbit. The crowd you hang out with the most in school, while not the most popular kids by any means, didn’t typically leave much opportunity for getting to know the leather wearing metal head.
You’re in your backyard, reading a book under the porch light. After a long, hot day at the pool working as a lifeguard, the mild chill of the summer evening is a welcome reprieve. When you look out over the yard, dots of light come and go as fireflies flit about the grass.
It’s perfect.
That is, until you hear a scrambling noise near your fence line, followed by a loud thump and a pained groan. Startled, you jump from your seat and tug open the screen door to the house, reaching in and grabbing the shotgun your dad keeps there.
Gun held in both hands, just like your dad taught you, you tiptoe out into the yard to investigate.
You spot the source of the noise quickly. A lump in the grass, barely illuminated by the light of the moon and your distant porch lights. The lump shifts, rolling over and you catch a glimpse of curly brown hair and pale skin.
When he finally opens his eyes and notices you standing there, gun aimed at him, he scrambles to his knees and holds his hands up, brown eyes wide in panic as he says, “Hey, hey, hey, let’s put the gun down, yeah?”
You roll your eyes, flicking the safety back on and setting it down. “Care to explain why you’re in my yard, then? You gave me a heart attack, Eddie!”
“Hopper caught me spray painting the old mill down the road. Had to lose him somehow.” He stands, brushing the grass off of his black jeans. He eyes you curiously. “You know my name?”
“We go to school together. Of course I know your name.”
“Ah, my infamy precedes me.”
“It’s not infamy, it's your loud mouth in the cafeteria yelling about how ABBA is an affront to music.” You cross your arms over your chest. “Dancing Queen is a good song.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, princess, did I personally offend you?” He asks, voice teasing. “Bet if you listened to the lyrical mastermind that is Ozzy, you would forget all about ABBA.”
“I think Paranoid was better than Master of Reality, ” you reply.
“Marry me,” he says, making you laugh. His eyes crinkle in the corners as he smiles at you, and not for the first time, you think, Huh, Eddie Munson is kinda cute.
“Not a chance, Munson.”
— 2 —
In the fall of 1984, you began your junior year. It had started out just the same as any other year - new classes, same faces. But one face in the crowd caught your eye more regularly.
And you caught his right back.
Sometimes, when you were spacing out during lunch listening to your friends talk about their weekend plans, your eyes would seek out that head of messy curls. And sometimes, you would find that he was already staring back at you.
And that distraction is what leads to him standing from his table without looking and slamming straight into Jason Carver, his lunch tray spilling the Wednesday Spaghetti special all over his precious letterman jacket.
“Watch where you’re going, freak,” Jason shouts, shoving Eddie by the shoulders.
Eddie, being the little shit that he is, just smiles. “Oh, my sincerest apologies, King Jason,” he replies with a sarcastic little bow. “Baking soda should take care of those stains.”
You can practically see the steam coming out of Jason’s ears. Eddie turns to leave, eyes finding yours again, but Jason reaches out and grabs his shoulder, turning him back to face him and throwing a fist right into his jaw.
You’re out of your seat before you can even think about it. Kids crowd around the two boys, chanting their encouragement to fight. Eddie stands back up, ducking another punch from Jason.
You shove your way through the crowd, planting yourself in front of Eddie just as Jason throws another swing that narrowly misses you. “Cut it out,” you shout above the noise.
“Move,” Jason demands, an angry gaze still fixed on Eddie. “What, you need a girl to defend you, Munson?”
And that comment pisses you off. Your dad didn’t spend hours every weekend when you were a young girl teaching you how to throw a punch for no reason. Your arm winds back, fingers curled tight in a fist that you let fly right into his nose. He stumbles back, hands flying to his face and coming away covered in blood.
“Holy shit,” Eddie says behind you. “That was awesome.”
Principal Higgins charges through the crowd. He takes in Jason’s bloody face, and turns to you and Eddie. “Detention. This afternoon.”
You open your mouth to protest, but he cuts you off with a hand and a sigh of your name. “I will deal with you two later. Mr. Carver needs to see the nurse.” With that, he leads the school golden boy out of the cafeteria by the arm.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Eddie says. You turn to face him as the students disperse back to their seats. You can feel their uncertain glances bouncing off your back.
“Yeah, well. Jason’s a dick,” you mutter. You don’t give him a chance to reply, heading back to your table to grab your backpack and head to class before the bell rings.
___
After an hour of staring at a chalkboard in silence, Mr. Clark, the hefty P.E. teacher with the shiny bald spot, finally dismisses you and Eddie from the classroom.
You’re out of your seat like a rocket and halfway down the hall before you hear Eddie’s voice call out behind you.
When you turn to face him, he’s grinning ear to ear. You can’t imagine why - you’d just spent an hour being tortured by silence. He holds a hand out, and you look down at the twisted piece of straw wrapper pinched between his fingers in confusion.
“Marry me?” Eddie asks, reminding you of the night that he’d fallen into your backyard and asked the same question.
With a laugh, you take the ring and slip it onto your ring finger. “Not a chance, Munson,” you say with a wink, turning on your heel to leave.
“I’ll change your mind!” He calls out after you.
— 3 —
It’s February in 1985 when Eddie Munson first asks you out.
He’s been leaving you notes in your locker every week for the last few months. Sometimes it's an actual note, his messy handwriting detailing some crazy story he’d come up with for his Dungeons and Dragons club, or asking you a series of questions that you’d reply to with a note of your own, slipped into his locker in between classes.
Other times, it's a drawing. While his handwriting leaves a lot to be desired, his artistry is impressive. One such drawing was a vase of sunflowers, which you had off-handedly mentioned as your favorite. You’d stuck that one to your locker door with a matching magnet the same day.
One day, however, you approach your locker at the end of the day to find a crumpled brown paper bag stuck to the metal door with duct tape. Opening it, you find a cassette tape in a plastic cover, the track list scribbled in familiar handwriting.
It takes you all of three seconds to realize most of the songs are off of Black Sabbath’s Paranoid album, which makes you smile like a fool.
Later, in the privacy of your room, you play the songs on a low enough volume to not wake your dad, sitting near your speaker to catch the lyrics. It’s a little after 11 p.m. when you hear a tap at your window.
You push the curtain aside and jump slightly in surprise when Eddie’s grinning face stares back from the other side of the glass. You lift the window open to whisper, “What are you doing here?”
“Come on, I got something to show you,” he says, his whole body moving with barely contained excitement. “But we gotta go, like, now.”
“Eddie, it’s almost midnight,” you say by way of protest.
“Exactly, come on, we don’t have a lot of time.” He leans through your open window, looking you head to toe. “Put on a sweater and get your shoes on.”
Confused, but intrigued, you do as he says. He helps you through the window before you slowly close it, careful not to make too much noise. You follow him to his van that he’s parked a little ways down from your house.
“Where are we going?” You ask, stepping quickly to keep up with his longer strides. He opens the passenger door for you, shutting it as you sit in the seat without responding. His van smells like weed and cigarette smoke, but not overwhelmingly. It’s almost comforting.
He turns the van on, pulling away from the curb and heading north, towards the dense woods surrounding Hawkins. He’s got the radio turned low, a Metallica sound filling the silence around you. His fingers tap to the beat on the steering wheel, but he doesn’t say anything.
You drive like that for a while, heading further out from Hawkins to where the town gives way to dense forest and the inky black sky lights up with more stars than you get to see back at home. Eddie pulls off to the side of the road, near a field that borders the roadway before it disappears into towering pine.
He hops out of the van and runs around the hood to open your door, holding a hand out to you. It’s so dark you can barely see anything as you drop down from the passenger seat, clinging to his hand. He brings you to the back and opens the van doors, revealing a pile of blankets that you hadn’t noticed during the drive.
He turns to you, a hand running through his hair as he says, “There’s a meteor shower tonight. It starts in-,” he checks his watch, “-thirty minutes. I thought, maybe, we could…watch it. I got us some Red Vines, too.”
You blink rapidly, your brain trying to catch up. “A meteor shower?”
“Yeah. Heard about it on the radio. This should be a pretty clear place to watch it,” he says. “You said your favorite book is The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy because you like the idea of traveling through space. I don’t have a starship, so the meteor shower is the compromise.”
“I can’t believe you remember I said that,” you tell him. You’d mentioned it off-handedly in one of your replies to his notes.
“I remember everything you tell me,” he replies easily, shrugging like it's no big deal.
“This is….so sweet, Eddie,” you tell him honestly. He lets out a breath, like he’d been nervous about how you would respond. You can’t imagine why.
Doesn’t he know you’ve been halfway in love with him since pointing a shotgun at him for interrupting your reading?
He grins, bright and happy before hopping up into the pile of blankets and situating himself. He pulls out the aforementioned bag of Red Vines and pats the space beside him. You clamber up into the spot, sitting cross legged with your knee touching his and sending sparks across your skin at the contact.
He holds a bright red rope out to you and you take it happily, munching on it as you stare up at the sky. A streak of lights moves in your periphery and you jump in excitement. “I think I saw one!”
Your eyes are glued to the sky as the intermittent streaks of meteors slash through the darkness, but Eddie watches you instead.
He pulls another Red Vine from the pack, tying it in a knot with a small loop at the end.
“Marry me?” He asks, holding the makeshift ring out to you.
“Not a chance, Munson,” you reply, making him laugh. You bite the candy from his fingers with a grin.
“I’ll change your mind,” he promises for the second time.
— 4 —
It’s the summer of 1986. You’ve graduated high school and Eddie finally has as well, by the skin of his teeth and maybe with a little help from you on his homework.
College wasn’t really in your cards financially, so you’re working at The Hideout as a bartender on the weekends and at a record store throughout the week. Eddie, on the other hand, has been focusing on making music for Corroded Coffin between shifts at the factory where his Uncle Wayne also works. You still live with your dad, but you don’t mind it. He gives you enough privacy and is often away on construction jobs around the state for long periods of time.
On one such occasion, blessed with an empty house, you ask Eddie to come stay with you.
You’ve been dating since he took you to watch the meteor shower. It’s your first relationship, your first boyfriend, your first everything, really. Eddie is sweet, attentive, caring, and hasn’t once pressured you into anything you’re not yet ready for.
But tonight, you’re ready. You are so, so ready.
The pizza has already been delivered. You’ve rented Back to the Future for the third time, which means neither of you would be missing out if you happened to be busy with…other activities. You’ve got a box of condoms stashed in the couch cushions, just in case.
There’s a knock at your door and you swipe your sweaty palms on the fabric of your dress, the cute red sundress that’s been known to make Eddie’s brain short circuit.
You pull the door open to Eddie’s smiling face. “Sorry I’m late, sweetheart. I got that wine you like. Don’t know how it’s going to pair with pizza.” He leans forward to kiss you, a soft peck to your lips in greeting that already lights up your nerves.
“Thanks,” you say, taking the bottle from him. You move aside to let him in, shutting the door behind you. He turns, slipping an arm around your waist and tugging you until you're pressed tightly to him.
“This dress,” he murmurs, running his nose along your neck, nipping at the juncture of your shoulder. “This dress drives me crazy.”
You hold back the whimper of need lodged in your throat as he peppers you with little kisses, fingers curling against your ribs. He pulls away before it gets too far, just as he always does, and you mourn the loss.
You follow him to the kitchen and set the wine next to the pizza box. “Do you want anything to drink?”
“Your dad got any beer?” He asks, taking a seat at the table and flipping the box open. “Oh, pineapple!”
You grab a beer from the fridge for him and a glass for the wine. As you’re walking past, Eddie grabs your hand and gives it a little tug, guiding you until you’re sitting on his lap.
“You okay?” He asks, one hand on your back and the other just above your knee, his calloused fingers lightly gripping the bare skin of your thigh.
“Huh?”
“I asked if you’re okay. You’re acting a little funny.” His brow furrows in concern as he searches your face. “Do you not want me to stay over anymore?”
“No! I mean, yes! Yes, I want you to stay.” You take a breath. “Do you want to eat the pizza in the living room? We can start the movie.”
He regards you for a moment longer before shrugging and saying, “Sure. Lead the way.”
He grabs the pizza box while you get plates. In the living room, you press play on the VCR before taking a seat beside Eddie, leaving a few inches between your bodies out of nervousness, hoping he doesn’t notice.
But he does.
He frowns at the space before glancing at you, while you resolutely stare into the pizza box like it holds all the answers in the universe.
Look, the fact of the matter is, Eddie is more experienced than you and the knowledge of that leaves you torn. On one hand, you’re glad to (hopefully) be going into this with someone who knows what he’s doing so that you’re not just fumbling in the dark.
On the other hand, you’re scared to death he’s going to think you’re some boring virgin. You don’t think he would. It would be wildly out of character for him to be cruel like that. But there’s still a tiny part of your stupid brain telling you otherwise.
And you know he’s into some heavy stuff. You’ve snooped through his room before, found the copies of Heavy Metal magazine that featured women bound, gagged, blindfolded. Bent over with red hand prints blooming on their asses. Knelt on the ground in front of some faceless man, doe eyed expressions tilted up in submission. Seeing all of it had made you squirm, skin going hot at the thought of Eddie doing any number of those things to you.
Until you remembered that you’ve never even had sex yet and can’t possibly live up to that sort of expectation. You stare blankly at the TV as you have your internal struggle, the images of Doc and Matt McFly on their wacky adventure not even registering as you bite into your pizza.
“Alright,” Eddie says, snatching the pizza out of your hands and tossing it back into the box sitting on the coffee table.
“Hey!” You protest, gaping at him. He lifts you by the waist until you’re in his lap for the second time that night, legs spread on either side of him. It’s not an unfamiliar position - you’ve had plenty of heated make out sessions sitting just like this. The edges of his belt buckle press into your belly as he grips your hips.
“Come on, spill it. What’s the matter?” He asks, face serious as his brown eyes search yours. His fingers inch up, digging into your ribs, making you giggle and squirm over him. “What’s got you so tense, baby?”
Rather than answer, you grip his face in your palms and tug his lips to yours. He’s soft at first, tentative like he’s unsure this is the right course of action to take when he’d been trying to get to the bottom of why you were acting weird. But he’s only human, after all, and when your lips part to allow his tongue to tangle with yours, his reservations fly out the window.
You’ve kissed boys before, but it’s never been like this. Never been all consuming, like you can feel him with every cell of your being. You shift in his lap, pressing as close as possible. Eddie’s hands land on your hips, stilling your movement as he pants against you.
“Christ, you gotta slow down,” he bites out, teeth gritted. His eyes are dark and half-lidded with lust, a look you’ve seen only in flashes before one of you pulled back for a breath.
“I don’t want to slow down anymore,” you whisper.
His eyes go comically wide. “Are you sure?”
In response, you grip the hem of your dress, pulling it over your head and dropping it to the floor behind you. You fight the urge to cover yourself, feeling more exposed than you ever have as his gaze roams your body, taking in your breasts in a simple cotton bra and the high cut panties to match.
“Ed—“
Your voice cuts off in a yelp as Eddie flips you onto your back on the couch cushions, his body wedged between your thighs as he looks down on you with a smirk. He licks his lips as he trails a hand from your neck, between the valley of your chest, over your tummy. Your muscles clench and you feel the pinch of goosebumps in the wake of his fingers.
“Sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs, voice deeper than you’ve ever heard. He plants a kiss to the spot near your ear that’s extra sensitive. “How’d I get so lucky, huh? Pretty thing,” he coos. Your eyes go wide and your mouth goes dry at his words, and you try to lift your hips for some friction to relieve the pressure building between your legs.
He continues to plant kisses down your neck, nipping the thin skin with his teeth. The pain makes you bite out a labored curse that makes him chuckle.
“Tell me what you want, princess,” he says. “I’ll give you everything your sweet little brain can come up with.”
“I want…I want you to touch me.”
“I'm already doing that. Try again.” One of his hands slides under your back, nimble fingers popping the hook of your bra. “And be very specific.”
Your cheeks burn as he gazes at you expectantly. “I want you…to touch me down there.”
“Oh? Here?” He runs his thumb over your clit, the sudden sensation making you cry out. “You want me to touch your pretty pussy?”
You feel like you’re in danger of spontaneously combusting with how hot you feel all over. All you can do is nod vigorously as Eddie curls his hands into the waist of your panties and tugs them down and off your legs.
“Hold your legs up for me,” Eddie says, grabbing your hands and positioning them beneath your knees. “Let me get a good look at you.”
He leans back, down exactly that, staring down at your exposed body with reverence. You try to close your legs, but his hands on your thighs stop you as he makes a disapproving noise with his tongue.
“Good girls do as they’re told, princess. You wanna be a good girl for me right?” He asks, tone condescending in a way that makes a new wave of lust wash over you. With a whimper, you nod in reply. “Words,” he demands.
“Y-yeah. I wanna be a good girl,” you whisper.
“You wanna be my good girl,” he clarifies.
“I wanna be your good girl.”
“Christ.” He leans forward, grasping your face in his hand and kissing you senseless. He pulls away all too quickly, planting frantic kisses to your neck, shoving your bra out of the way to palm your tits, alternating between circling one hardened nipple with his thumb or his tongue. Your back arches and you squirm beneath him.
“You’re a little sensitive, aren’t you?” He asks, that mean tone back in his words.
He doesn’t wait for your reply as he moves on, those lips trailing down your tummy until they’re nipping and kissing at your inner thighs. He brings his thumbs to your wet heat, using them to spread you open before dragging his tongue through your folds.
“Eddie!”
“Fuck ,” he groans, tongue circling your clit in a maddening rhythm. He alternates between the sensitive nub and dipping the tip of his tongue into your entrance.
You’re pretty sure you’re having an out of body experience. His mouth feels so good, pulling every drop of pleasure possible from your body. All the blood rushes from your head and you writhe beneath him in desperation.
There’s a firm pressure at your slick hole and your eyes pop open, your head lifting from the couch to watch as he slides one finger into you until his ring is biting against your hot flesh. Your mouth drops open and his eyes lift to yours, his face damn near unrecognizable as he thrusts the digit in and out of you.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he bites out. “I’m going to add another finger, and you’re gonna come all over my hand and my face before I give you my cock.”
“Oh my god,” you say, the words breathless and needy as he slips another finger in, the stretch a slight burn that subsides quickly. His fingers curl and drag against something that makes you cry out. And when you do, he smirks, lowering his face to tongue your clit in tandem with the thrust of his hand.
You come with a shout, the noises of his hand lewd and wet as he works you through it. Your hands slip from your legs, unable to hold up the dead weight of them as you shake beneath him.
Eddie leans back, standing from the couch and scrambling out of his clothes in a way that would be comical if your brain wasn’t turned to mush. But as he tugs his pants down his thighs, your brain suddenly catches up with the program and you drink in the sight of him greedily.
The lines of compact muscle, the contrast of his tattoos against his pale skin, the light dusting of hair at the top of his chest and the matching trail that leads to…
Holy shit.
His cock is hard, an angry red at the head that looks almost painful. You have nothing to compare him to besides your own fingers but you know damn well that he’s thick and long enough to make you nervous.
He joins you on the couch, one knee planted to the cushions between your legs. He fists his length, giving it a leisurely pump as he stares down at your boneless body.
“There’s, uh, condoms. Behind the cushion,” you tell him, the words making you blush for what feels like the millionth time that evening.
“Oh? Did my sweet, innocent little princess prepare for this? Did my little slut want my cock so bad tonight?” He asks. Your eyes go wide and a moan claws up your throat. “Ah, she likes that, huh?”
You nod vigorously. He reaches a hand behind the back cushions, fishing for the box. He pulls a foil package out of the box and tears it open. “Eyes on me,” he says as he rolls the latex over his cock.
He plants a palm beside your head, his other hand gripping his cock and guiding it until the head is positioned at your weeping entrance. “This might hurt a little, baby. You gotta tell me if it’s too much.”
“Okay. I trust you.”
His eyes go soft. With a sweet kiss to your lips, a juxtaposition to the man who’d just called you a little slut. He presses forward, the blunt head of him slipping inside you with little resistance.
There’s a bite of pressure as he moves forward, your body giving way to the intrusion with a slight sting that subsides a delicious fullness. He pauses once his hips are flush to yours, a hand coming up to brush across your forehead, moving the sweat slick strands of hair from your face.
“You okay?” He asks. You nod, tilting your chin up for a kiss. He indulges you, smiling into it in a way that makes your heart flutter.
Eddie holds himself like that for a while, kissing you and letting you adjust. When the burn subsides and you’re just left with a slight ache and a new sensation of fullness, you shift your hips slightly under him.
He draws back slightly, the drag of his cock making you gasp and all the breath leaving your lungs as he drives back in. He sets a pace of short, hard thrusts that have you digging your nails into his back, dragging them down and leaving blooming red trails in the skin.
“That’s it, sweetheart, you mark me up however you want,” Eddie grunts. His thrusts become longer, deeper, more of a roll of his hips than a pound. A hand circles your throat, the grip gentle as his fingers press into the sides. “Sweet little angel, gripping my cock so tight.”
“Oh god,” you cry. Eddie leans back, the angle growing deeper. He brings his other hand to your lips, three of his fingers slipping inside your mouth. You run your tongue over the familiar calluses and he groans low in his throat.
Those spit slick fingers leave your mouth and he circles them over your clit roughly. “I want this little cunt to give me everything.”
With a whimper, the tightening of your belly releases in a wave, surprising you with its ferocity. The sensation is so unlike any of the times you’ve spent in the dark, your own hands exploring your body.
Eddie thrusts a few more times, his tempo stuttering as he chases his own release. He stills against you, hips pressed tightly to yours as he moans your name.
He pulls out of you, twisting to the side so that he’s lying sandwiched between your body and the couch so as not to crush you. He throws an arm over your waist, burying his head against your neck with a satisfied sigh.
“You sure know how to show a lady a good time, Munson,” you say. He laughs against your cooling skin.
“Would show you a good time for the rest of our lives if you’ll marry me,” he replies.
You huff out a little laugh before saying, “Not a chance.”
“I’ll change your mind.”
And not for the first time, you realize he’s right.
— 5 —
It’s the summer of 1990, and Corroded Coffin has a top hit on the radio and their first big gig out on the road tonight in Chicago.
You’re backstage at the venue, sitting in the green room and watching Eddie pace nervously. He looks especially fuckable, to the point you’re having trouble concentrating on his anxious monologue.
Denim battle vest, the same one that’s served him since high school, draped over his bare shoulders and exposing the muscle of his biceps and tantalizing peeks of his abs and chest. His hair is the longest it’s been but still the messy curls you love to run your hands through. He’s applied a smudge of eyeliner around his eyes, making his brown eyes larger and more hypnotizing.
Dear god, you’re going to combust.
“Are you even listening?” He asks, stopping dead in his tracks with his hands on his hips.
You smirk at him. “Not really. I already know you’re worrying about nothing. I’m just thinking about how fast I can make you come before you go on stage.”
His mouth drops open in surprise, but his eyes go dark. “Get in the bathroom. Now.”
You hop up from the ratty couch, sliding your hand over his stomach as you pass and throwing him a wink. He follows in behind you, shutting the door forcefully and flipping the lock.
His hand wraps around the back of your neck, tangling in your hair and pulling you into a bruising kiss. On a breath he murmurs, “I love you.”
“Love you more, Munson.”
“Now get on your fucking knees.”
You drop like a rock, the linoleum cold against your knees, the fabric of your fishnets uncomfortable ywhere it presses against your skin. Eddie unbuttons his fly, pulling his hardening cock from the confines of his jeans. He grips the bottom of your jaw in one hand and growls out, “Open your mouth.”
You do as you’re told, sticking your tongue out and waiting for him to slide his length into your waiting mouth. He taps the tip against your tongue, teasing you, before he slips it past your lips and into the wet heat.
“That’s it, baby,” Eddie whispers. “Just like that.”
You let Eddie set the pace he needs, both of his hands digging into your hair in a tight hold as he uses your mouth. You’ve got spit leaking out of the corners of your lips and your eyes are watering from the lack of air, but you just look up at him through your lashes and moan.
“Christ, you have no idea, no idea , what you do to me, princess,” he groans, his head dropping back, hips moving faster but more shallowly.
There’s a hard knock at the door and the band’s new manager, Steven, calls through the flimsy wood, “You better get your ass out here, Munson, you’re on in five.”
But Eddie just keeps going, ignoring the man that holds the power to make or break his career in his hands, growling out, “Eyes on me.”
Your lashes are sticky with tears and mascara as you look up and watch him unravel, the ecstasy running across his features making your core clench. His release hits the back of your throat and you swallow around him.
When he’s done, he pulls you up by the hair, gripping your chin and hauling you into a rough kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth even as it tastes of him.
He pulls away, his thumbs swiping beneath your eyes to clean up the black streaks left by your mascara. “Marry me?” Eddie asks, and you smile at him.
Another knock sounds at the door. “Alright, lovebirds. Two minutes.”
“You better get out there and knock ‘em dead, Eds,” you murmur, leaning your forehead against his.
“Just for you,” he tells you with a wink, pulling back to right himself in his pants. He flips the lock on the door and pulls it open, the dark bathroom flooding with light.
The rest of the guys are crowded in the green room and Steve looks at Eddie and rolls his eyes. “Finally. Alright, boys, let’s show ‘em what you’ve got.”
He leads them out of the room and to the stage and you trail behind, finding a spot stage right to watch from the wings. Your face hurts from smiling so hard, watching the same boys who used to play in a garage playing on a stage in front of a crowd screaming along with them, for them.
“You’ve been an amazing crowd, Chicago!” Eddie screams into the mic. The answering roar is deafening. “We’ve got one more song and it’s a brand new one.”
A melody you don’t recognize fills the concert hall. The intro is heavy on Eddie and Jeff’s guitars and as Eddie begins to sing, Frankie and Gareth join in.
I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy
I'll be your hope, I'll be your love, be everything that you need
I love you more with every breath truly, madly, deeply do
I will be strong, I will be faithful 'cause I'm counting on
A new beginnin'
A reason for livin'
A deeper meaning, yeah
Eddie’s face is tilted in your direction as he sings, eyes finding yours as he starts in on the chorus.
I wanna stand with you on a mountain
I wanna bathe with you in the sea
I wanna lay like this forever
Until the sky falls down on me
You smile at him, your eyes stinging at the emotion welling in them.
And when the stars are shining brightly in the velvet sky
I'll make a wish, send it to heaven and make you want to cry
The tears of joy for all the pleasure and the certainty
That we're surrounded by the comfort and protection
Of the highest powers
In lonely hours
The tears devour you
And devour you they do.
— +1 —
Eddie’s got one hand on the wheel and the other in the pocket of his leather jacket, fingers running along the sharp corners of the box he's hidden away in there.
You’re beside him in the passenger seat, practically bouncing in excitement. It’s 1991, one year to the day of the release of Corroded Coffin’s first hit record. They’ve been on one tour already, but he’s home for a three month stretch and now that you’re both in a good place financially, you’re looking at houses to buy to get out of the little two bedroom apartment you’d been renting.
“This is so exciting,” you say for the hundredth time. And for the hundredth time, Eddie grins at you. “Our first house!”
“I feel like we did this backwards. Should we have bought a house before buying a dive bar? Is that the normal order?” You’d used a portion of your savings to buy The Hideout from Hank, who finally retired to Florida content in the knowledge that the bar was in the safe hands of the girl he’d begrudgingly hired fresh out of high school and couldn’t shake himself loose from.
You smack him in the arm. “Shut up. Who cares. You’ve always done things your own way. Why stop now?”
“You’re right.” He grabs your hand, planting a kiss to your knuckles.
“I hope this one is nice,” you comment, staring out the window. Eddie smiles to himself.
He’d picked this one to go see. In fact, he’s already been to it and immediately placed an offer on it. You think you’re meeting up with a realtor, but the keys dangle from his key ring already.
Eddie pulls up to the little three bedroom, two bathroom ranch situated about five miles north of The Hideout. The lots are large, the homes bordered in the back by thick woods. The one he’s purchased is a deep navy blue with a bright red door and he watches your eyes take it in.
“Oh, it’s adorable,” you say wistfully. You jump from the passenger seat, looking around. “Where’s the realtor? You told him noon, didn’t you?”
“Oh, we don’t need a realtor,” Eddie says. You tilt your head at him, brow furrowed. “I bought it.”
“You bought it?”
“Yep.”
“You bought a house?”
“Yep.”
“You bought this house?”
“Sure did.” He holds the key up to you. “Go ahead.”
You snatch it from his hand and run up the front walk, shouldering your way in. Eddie trails it behind you and watches as you run from room to room, your smile growing bigger and brighter with each pass.
“This closet!” He hears you shout from the master bedroom. “It’s bigger than our bedroom at the apartment!”
He chuckles as he goes to the living room and stands in the center, lowering himself to one knee and pulling the ring box from his pocket. He settles in to wait for you to find him.
It doesn’t take long. You tear into the room, speaking a mile a minute about how you want to decorate, but you stop short when you see him there.
Eddie swallows nervously. He’s asked you to marry him since the first time he’s met you, and you’d always told him, “Not a chance.”
Over time, the exchange became more synonymous with any other couple saying “I love you” and “I love you, too”, just with your own flair.
But now, he means it. And he lifts the lid of the box to show the plain silver band sitting in the velvet. “Hey, princess. You ready to change your mind?”
You rush towards him, throwing your arms around his neck and toppling the two of you to the ground in a heap. You grab his face, kissing him deeply.
“That a yes?” He asks when you break apart, breathless and panting.
“It’s most definitely a yes, Munson.” You grin at him as he lifts your left hand and slips the ring onto it.
Right where it belongs.
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