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#also this was in my drafts for like. a month. so enjoy
feyinvestigations · 6 months
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Is this even anything?
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welcometogrouchland · 11 months
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[ID: a sketch page of various drawings of Willow Park from the owl house. From left to right the drawings are: timeskip willow playing flyer derby, Willow in her season 1 casual outfit next to her in her season 3 Halloween costume, Willow as Anne in an amphibia au, young willow doing pottery with her dad Gilbert, young willow and amity holding hands/hugging and smiling, and willow looking at clover, who's perched on her finger and wearing a dress and wig made of yarn so as to resemble Willow. Willow is trying to hold back laughter while clover looks unamused. In the center is a drawing of Willow drawing a large spell circle with her staff, and the title of the sketch page reads "willow week 2023", with each drawing labeled as a specific day/prompt, such as day 3: flyer derby/fav on-screen outfit, day 1: crossover, day 2: childhood/father-daughter, or day 1: palismen bonding. Drawings 2, 6, and 7 are coloured while the rest are uncoloured. The background is a scribbly green. End ID]
hi I’m only a month or so late to it BUT! Nearly out of the mines (finals) and that means i can post the sketch page i worked on for Willow Week! Hosted by @agrebel18
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noxious-fennec · 1 year
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PLEASEEEE tell me about the symbolism in your drawing Oh i am dying to know
HII why thank you for asking!! I'll try my best to answer concisely but Tl;dr I'm not normal about either cwilbur or flower symbolism :) it also must be noted that a lot of my decisions are entirely based on my personal cultural experience so I hope if anything you find it interesting.
For an overview, The peice is inspired by art nouveau, namely alphonse mucha and henri privat livemont, and is mostly based on this hamlet production poster by the former. The composition however is not based on said illustration, and is slightly inspired in part by stained glass and fences of the movement. The clothing cwilbur is wearing is from the edwardian period, if I've got my references correct it's earlier in the period, though not any year in particular. It differs drastically in the fact that the colors are very vibrant (I can't help putting cwil in shades of red, ho16 permanently changed my brain chemistry), and that the Cape part of the inverness cape is entirely too short. Otherwise I've attempted to keep the general silhouette accurate.
Now the plant symbolism:
First: Arabian jasmine (which fun fact are not actually the same as the 4 petal vine yasmine, has a different name, Full (فل), and they grow on shrubs) and the Damascus rose go together because of two reasons: 1) i didn't know other flowers to put there and 2) they're very closely tied in my brain. If you try to find their symbolism you'll find a lot of things about beauty and purity, as is common with any white flower or rose, but my reasoning differs. Without going into too much detail, I intended for them to symbolise community and belonging.
Daffodils (the ones depicted are the ones most common in my region, they may not resemble the expectations but they are indeed daffodils) mean death rebirth and hope, its a flower i generally associate with cwil. Same meaning goes for the white lilies. And poppies have a heavy association with war and generally symbolise remeberance and hope for peace, and thus, l'manberg association.
The next five are flowers that represnt certain characters strictly based on cwilbur's preception of them, but they can be applied to others as well, i just thought these were most important:
Freesia: especially when yellow, usually means thoughtfulness, trust and friendship. represents cranboo.
Orange/tiger lilly: pride, hatred, status, tenacity.  Cquackity
Lilly of the valley: cmon we all know this one, ctommy
Boat orchid: virtue and morality, a gesture of respect and friendship. Ctubbo
Gladiolus: diminutive of gladius(sword); strength of character, moral integrity and rememberance. ctechno
pomegranate tree and fruit: pomegranates have a very different connotation in Western media, from what I can glean, as opposed to what I'm used to them being perceived as (I won't derail this but I can elaborate if needed). In short, I've chosen to take advantage of this double meaning and so its here to represent life death and resurrection while the tree is for family and home.
On a side note, I was originally going to do night blooming jasmine (مسك الليل) but it wasn't working, the symbolism of it however still stand: its a flower many love and think smells amazing, but rarely do they actually want the burden of having it in their own yards because of how deathly strong it smells. I was intending on using it to symbolise the complicated nature of cwilbur's relationship with the important people in his life.
And finally, the olive tree: aside from its meanings of peace and friendship, olive trees also mean olive oil which is a product with many healing properties that is not too easy to make and requires a lot of work. i chose it to mean healing and the process thereof.
So yeah that's it, hope it's up to expectation and thanks for the interest means a lot to me <33
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qeyond · 9 months
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Youtube | Spotify
CW abuse/trauma/ptsd. It's a pretty raw song (both in lyrics and the way Black Dresses preforms their songs) so listen at your own discretion.
This song really speaks so honestly to the deeply self-destructive spiralling for B, in my opinion. Speaking politeness through your gritted teeth with a lying softness, boiling over, letting it out, feeling it on your bared, snarling teeth, breathing out smoke, "is it me? am I the problem? am I the evil monster?", "its always been me", spitting up blood, biting the hand that feeds and ripping them the fuck to shreds to be left alone.
Lyrics under the cut.
Why thank you for your opinion What you think is so important So let's talk this out i love it You're so funny i hope you're doing well Thank god for the tongue in your mouth I'm so happy i'm so lucky I get to do whatever i can be myself But you know what? I have zero tolerance for Bad little shitheads Who only seem to fuck around
Same shit different day You need to fuck off you need to go away I don't wanna talk about it That's all that I came to say Get out of my space You worthless fucking fuckface
Who the fuck do you think you are? Who the fuck do you think you are? Who the fuck do you think you are? Who the fuck do you think you are?
Hey bitch, what the fuck's going on? Is this how you wanna spend the Last few years of your life? Of your life? The last few years your legacy Your legacy your legacy your
You can hide out in your tiny little lair You can be the fucking evil monster terror Scared you can be the evil monster It was always you it was always you It was always you it was always you It was always you
It was always something I couldn't be That was just outside reality It was always something I couldn't know That I didn't know that I shouldn't show Because everything around me Felt just like a bad dream It was all or nothing Be the kind of person you hate or be
Hated for the things that you Thought were common sense Just a little further One day it will make sense Hold yourself a little tighter Your innocence
Preyed upon and vilified by Your blood and friends
Who am I if I can't assign a Name and place to what this is? Everything that's mine feels rotten from The touch of it everything all the time is a Message that I shouldn't be Who the fuck are you? Stay the fuck away from me
I want to love myself but Memories are killing me I want to live but all the years That came before won't let me be I want to love myself but Memories are killing me I want to live but all the years That came before won't let me be I want to love myself but Memories are killing me I want to live but all the years That came before won't let me be I want to love myself but Memories are killing me Memories are killing me Memories are killing me it hurts
#q music#trigger warning#abuse#ptsd#trauma#assault#im not really sure what to tag this cuz it can be a genuinely very triggering piece. so please genuinely just tread lightly#anyway ive actually had this in my drafts for 2 months and been sitting on it but listened to this song again and just fucking christ-#i just love it so much im so upset black dresses probably wont be making music anymore because of harassment cuz their work is SO HONEST!!!#anyway uhm this song is so deeply B-core#your 'legacy' your 'legacy' YOUR 'LEGACY' YOUR-#i genuinely ALWAYS feel so nervous to share such obviously deeply emotional and trauma-based songs or art and being like 'hehe my blorbo'#because I KNOW how that looks and I know how deeply that feels like im making light of it or making it an Aesthetic. cuz yall dont know me#and thats okay. thats just how it is i dont expect ppl to know me or my intentions through and through#but I really really hope people understand that my doing posts like this is very much coming from a place where its For Me too#like i deeply connected to this song so wrapping it up and giving that to B makes me feel not so bad <3#B is my lil guy that I dump my problems on and we hug each other as the storm passes over us both and then we're okay again#B kinnies and fictives and lovers we're all holding hands from knowing and I love you deeply#i have a MILLION thoughts on this for B. like i could write you a whole novel about this song but also iykyk. and thats just for Us.#so anyway im over explaining myself as always ah. I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS SONG AS DEEPLY AS I DO <3#if i was going to make a new amv for B I would use this song. but im retired and the idea of trying to find a cracked sony vegas hurts me#LOL#also this is ok to reblog and/or interact with if youd like <3
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sabraeal · 2 years
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The Vagrant’s Season, Chapter 1
[Read on AO3]
Written for @onedivinemisfit for her birthday, late by a couple days due to Life Constraints, and by that I mean two kids under 10 with head colds! This is part of Annie’s Shapeshifter AU, specifically a prequel to this piece
It may be muffled through wattle and wool, but Obi still hears the question loud and clear: “What do you think of the boy?”
Bark bites into his gloves as he stiffens, the chopped wood clutched tight to his chest as he presses against the wall. It can’t be possible the Goodwife’s considering the spring, not when there’s snow still piled in the streets and ice clings to every eave. There’s weeks yet until he has to worry, until the heat makes his scalp prickle worse than a bee swarm and he’s driven off just to satisfy the itch. Why, he still has to break through the ice on the well to get water in the morning, there’s no reason to think winter’s even halfway done--
Plink. Water splatters at the tip of his nose, hard enough to make him sniff.
“The boy? Obi?” Goody has no mate-- ah, no husband to speak of, but Harwin comes close enough to both. Not a thing he’s supposed to know, but this is hardly the first wall he’s heard too much through. “He’s a quick one, that’s for sure. Knows how to hold his tongue. Bit on the small side.”
Plink. Plink. His eyelashes flutter, flicking away the drops. They’re cold enough to sting, but there’s nothing to be done, not unless he wants to drop his whole load and give away the game.
“He’ll grow yet.” He won’t, but it’s kind of her to think so. Among his kind, he’s already tall enough, a full-grown male who peers over most heads. Last thing he needs is to stick out any more. “I thought I might speak to him. Ask if he wants to stay on through the spring. Might be nice to have another set of hands, specially when people start traveling the roads again.”
Plink. Obi looks up, licking the water from his lips. The icicle, it’s melting. Even now, he can see the next drop beading on its tip, trembling as grows bigger, no longer able to fight against the earth’s sway--
Ah, so it is time. 
Goody never has time for her little chat. Obi slinks in when the serving girls are all aflutter, asking about stews and trenchers and whether they’ll have enough ale in the cask for after sundown, leaving the wood by the hearth. It’s nothing to snag his sack then, filling it with what he can reach in the larder. Bread, cheese, dried meat-- anything that will keep; he’ll need it until the snow melts. There’s always forage to be found by those wise enough to see it, but nuts and winter berries make a thin meal indeed.
A meat pie on a sill makes for a king’s feast as he lets his feet carry him out of town, the stink of man fading away as he wanders from the well-trod road out to where stone cedes to pasture. Or at least it would, if the last storm hadn’t covered the fields. Might have been nice to stay on until the last frost; he had no proper bed, the way the serving girls did, but a mat rolled out on the hearth made for a warmer one than he’s used to. And if he was fed scraps...well, being fed was better than not being fed at all.
But winter’s comforts do not last spring’s thaw. The goodwife might find her boy handy now, but that would pass soon enough. All it took was a few custom asking about the gloves on his hands and the hat that never left his head, and folks would start looking at him sideways, start puzzling at a mystery never meant to be solved. Better to leave now, before his memory can sour.
By next year these folk will have forgotten him. After all, boys disappear off the streets all the time. No use remembering a scrawny one.
The pie loses its charm along with its warmth. Still, he’s eaten worse-- will eat worse, if history holds-- and he stretches it to its last crumb. After that first glut he keeps to a bite every few hours, ignoring hunger when it wraps its sticky fingers around his stomach. It’s hardly a stranger, after all. Practically an old friend. 
It’s a day’s walk to get to the forest’s edge. Not the one the townsfolk mark, just outside the glow of their little village, but the one he knows, long past where the stink of man has faded. Another day sees him safe, long past any trail even the most daring would mark. It’s only then that he dares to take off the cap.
It’s like being born again. All at once the world gains new dimension, a riotous cacophony that swells over him like a wave. His ears ache; both from the deluge of sound and from being pinned so tight for so long. A simple flick eases the physical discomfort, but the rest...
Obi breathes deep, cold burning his lungs. He’s dizzy, disoriented, but by all spirits in this wood-- as little as he can feet them-- he would take this over another second of pretending to be man’s child.
He dares a fire that night; a small one, just at the mouth of a cave he finds beneath a mossy outcropping. Sitting close, there’s enough light to stitch by-- and enough warmth that he can take off his trousers altogether. Still, he works quickly, ripping fabric and plucking out seams, squinting and swearing until they’ve been made new.
Getting to his feet with a wince-- ah, but these rocks are still cold, fire or no-- Obi pulls them on. It takes a moment to catch his tail, threading it through the hole he’s made. but when he’s finished...
Well, it’s easy to pick out his hasty work from the goodwife’s careful stitches, but at least his tail isn’t cramped inside a leg. Matted and sad as it is, it spreads over the rock like ash from a fireplace, or maybe ink from a quill. Given a few days, it’ll fluff up fine, the envy of every dog from here to Tanbar. And with these clothes, fresh from man’s world-- well, it’d be hard to keep the vixens off him, really. So long as the Keeper didn’t catch wind of a vagrant roaming around. That’s the last thing he needs, a wilder getting all curious about him.
He hulls a hunk of bread from his loaf, setting it to toast on a rock at the fire’s edge. It’ll make a meager feast even with the meats and cheese he’s got in his pack, but it’ll fill him. Until the snow melts, that’s all he can ask, unless he’d like hunger clinging to his shadow, a demon not even those mountain women can exorcise, try as they might. Worse comes to worst, he might be able to stave it off in his small form, feeding off the small rodents that peek their noses out of their burrows, but they’re a spare meal at best, hardly enough to keep him hunting. And still...
It’s not good to stay small so long. That’s what the wise women would say when he was just a kit, scolding the young when they’d play their hiding games out in the wood, seeing how long it would take for the other to find them. Obi had been the best at that game; he’d manage a day or two, enough that the patrols would have to find him, dragging him out from his warren by the back legs.
Stay too long like that and you’ll forget, one of them had creaked direly. You’ll forget what it’s like on two legs, on how to do anything but feed and flee. Wild in truth, that’s what you’ll be, and never able to come back.
He’d never taken the old witches seriously. Who could, when he was so used to the elders barking, make a face like that and you’ll get stuck! Yelp too much and you’ll only be able to howl! It was silly superstition, a way to make the kits behave.
Or so he had thought. Never again.
His mouth sours, so much that even water can’t wash it out. It takes a slice of sausage, salty enough to cleanse any spirit, to banish the taste. He’ll have to consider that though-- what he’s going to do during the weeks his supplies her sparse, and the forage is thin on the ground. Where he’ll go if he doesn’t want to hunker down and hope for spring.
Tanbar’s a fine enough stretch, so long as he stays out of the hills. He doesn’t need to get tangled up in territorial disputes, especially when the picking’s so slim. But go much further south and there’s patrols, two dogs to every pass, with noses sharp enough to pick out another in the brush. They’re not kind to vagrants there, even less so the ones they’ve marked before. Different Keeper, maybe, but Shenazards are either shrewd or stupid, and neither makes for a comfortable jailer.
There’s the Yuris Wilds even farther south, a long jaunt for a cold welcome, though the weather might well make up for it. But the Keeper...
Obi grimaces. The Valley’s his best bet. The snows may not melt as quick as further south, but there’s a patch that’s thick with winter berries not far past the territory’s edge, and plenty of tubers once the their stems peeks above the drifts. He’d hardly have to skirt far past the boundary to reap the rewards. Last time he’d gone there hadn’t even been a patrol; no point when the land’s been abandoned since the last Keeper’s time.
The toast burns his fingers when he plucks it from the stone, but even that can’t keep the grin from his face. There’s an extra slice of sausage when he takes his first bite, cheese and meat softening with the the warmth of the bread beneath it. His supplies may be scant this season, but he has something far better now: a plan.
He approaches the valley as a little one, cutting through the tall grass with as much substance as a shadow. The night covers him; as long as he keeps downwind and moves when the grass does, his pelt merely a darker spot among many. Not that there’s anyone keeping watch here-- he smells one dog at the most northern border, a sharp, unpleasant set that annoys more than unnerves, but once he skirts south it becomes all sweet with a hint of pine.
The patch is where he remembers it, nestled only an hour’s trot past the treeline. Dawn breaks when he reaches it, sun filtering through the thick canopy, dappling the snow like stained glass, and he flops into the underbrush with a relieves fwoosh. Three days of scant meals have left him famished, mouth watering as he stares up at the plump, ripe winter berries, but--
But he’s been traveling all night as a little one. Good for swiftness and stealth, but stamina...
His breath evens, chin resting on his paws. A small nap, that’s all he needs. Enough to let the sun come up and warm the air, and then he’ll shift, letting his clever hands take their bounty. Glut himself before he finds his next bolthole.
When Obi sleeps, he sleeps the sleep of victors. But when he wakes--
“Tulleri, lull, is he still alive?” The song cuts through the silence, bright as the sunlight itself, sending him stumbling to full wakefulness. “Far, far away in the forest.”
The vixen’s scent follows not long behind, carried on the same winds as her melody, a mix of sweet honey and bitter greens-- the same as the buds he used to pop with chubby fingers, their fluffy blooms spilling wetly across his fingers, leaving a stench the wise women would cluck over him for. Leave them, they would grouse, all three together, they taste better on the spit than they do your fingers, pup.
“Why yes, he is.” He’d slept so easy thinking it was simply the herbs growing beneath the snow, muted by the melt, but it’s her, her scent clinging to every branch. Foolish of him; the volva might warn against staying little lest the mind be forgotten, but they never spoke of this-- stay too long as a man, and go as nose-blind as one of them for your trouble. “The little one is lying in his cradle.”
Her words fade to a hum, certain in their uncertainty, and there’s no time to run, not when her next silent step brings her into sight.
She’s a tiny thing, even for a wilder. It’d be nothing for him to shift, to step out into into the patch with all the confidence his height could bring him and scare her out. Not his style; the men have saying-- they have one for everything-- you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Obi’s never tried to catch a fly, wouldn’t know why a man would, but he’s certainly had more luck with vixens playing sweet rather than sinister.
“I am busy, I cannot go out to the fields.” She drops to her knees as the next line hums through her lips, wordless, so close to him that his paws skitter back, folding beneath him. “Well, the wind blows and birch go, and the little one still sleeps so nicely.”
Obi had thought the town had been overwhelming with its hundred thousand scents, with pies being baked and men walking about their business, sweating and eating and leaving the scent of their mating upon them. He’d kept himself apart as much as he could, hiding his wilder-sensitive nose beneath a scarf, but this--
Honey and herb smother him, as palpable as a blanket over his nose, leaving it aching even as his eyes stung and watered. It’s too close, too much. And yet--
It soothes him. Soothes him so much his skin itches, even as he melts into the ground beneath his belly.
She reaches for the winter berries first, plucking enough to fill the basket she keeps at her side, singing the entire time. Children’s songs, enough that he’d wonder if she was a mother, if he couldn’t smell her innocence on her, like glazing on a cake. One left in the window, begging for clever hands to steal it.
Obi keeps his paws to himself. It’d be one thing to sniff around a vixen with a few seasons under her belt, but one unmated-- and as pretty as this one-- oh, that’d bring a Keeper down on him quick. And the last thing he needs is the attention of this one’s.
Instead he lazes, keeping one eye open as she works. He’s almost sad when the last berry falls onto her pile, but then--
Then she starts digging in the snow beneath. It parts under her hands like soap bubbles, crumbling to water and slush. Still, her fingers turn red as her cheeks, looking cold and swollen by the time she exposes the greenery underneath.
“There,” she murmurs, voice as sweet as her song. “Finally--”
Her breath catches, and it’s only then that he looks up, meeting her wide eyes in monochrome.
“Oh my.” His heart stutters when she smiles, the way females do at kits. “I didn’t know I had company, little one! Here.”
She takes a handful of berries, holding them out just beneath the bush’s shadow. “Would you like a snack?”
Obi whimpers, his stomach gurgling at the offer, but-- but--
She might think him a harmless little one, sleeping among the underbrush, but if he stepped out into the sunlight, notched ear and shadowed pelt, his brand just visible beneath the fur--
Well, he knows what welcome there would be for a male like him.
“Come on now.” Her lips purse, kissing at the air, coaxing him close. There’s a part of him that is tempted. Perhaps if he only stuck out his nose... “There’s plenty to share.”
Obi stares at her, sunk into his wary crouch, and when she reaches out a hand--
He bolts.
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solradguy · 1 year
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I came to terms with the Sol kinnie thing months ago now because honestly who gives a shit, but every now and then I'll find myself in a situation where I wonder if whatever it was I was about to do was/is a pre- or post-Guilty Gear interest lol
#textpost#Most of them have been pre-Guilty Gear interests which is honestly hilarious#Like of course I don't have proof for most of it but my fursona is the funniest one#He's basically bootleg furry Sol Badguy BUT he was like that MONTHS before I got into GG#I've been thinking about this over the last few days though#Because I was doing some Queen stuff and had a thought like 'am I only doing this because my brain's weird or do I actually care'#And went through like a checklist of things. I do actually care#Sol is like frighteningly relatable though and sometimes I wish he wasn't lol#I typed this at 2am last night but saved it to my drafts instead of publishing it haha Still kinda feeling it this morning though tbh#I wish I could better articulate or find a term that describes how I relate to Sol better because 'kin/fictionkin' feels too...#Hmm.... Psycho-religious? A lot of essays I read while initially figuring this out related the kin tag to something more like a-#-Philosophy or something similar to a religion#But for me it's more like my brain filling in empty spaces within itself because No One was like me growing up and#now that I'm also trans there are even LESS people who are like me#So my brain sees a character that's similar to me and is like 'oh holy shit it's us. Let's be like that' hahah#This got really long I should've put it up in the post sorry lmfao#Anyway this is something I've done my whole life and 'kinning' is really the only term that fits what it is even if it's not a 1:1 fit#It usually doesn't bother me but knowing that some of the things I enjoy now I probably won't later once my interests shift again does#I still keep waiting for it to happen with Guilty Gear but GG is so different from anything else I've been into I'm not sure it will#Since most of the things I like about GG were things I liked before getting into it. Like heavy metal & weird scifi/fantasy#I'm not going to elaborate on how exactly I relate to Sol also. My blog is too public for that#and this post is already a little too personal#kin tag
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pepprs · 2 years
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literally the only reason i am not in as bad a mental health place as i was in in december is bc i’m done w school now and i never have to go back or deal with being a student again if i don’t want to and also bc i know there is a high likelihood that there are some big important helpful highly desired changes on my horizon in the next few months and years. but i am really not doing good right now
#purrs#scotus leaked draft + buffalo shooting + dallas shooting + uvalde shooting + monkeypox + covid cases rising + losing my last 3 weeks of#college and graduation + losing my freedom for who knows how long and moving back home + friends and family getting covid + pushing myself#to the limit finishing my capstone + watching my loved ones suffer with the situations in their own lives = is it ethical to bring children#into this world is it reasonable to think that i will one day live with autonomy again and find a romantic partner and have a pet and enjoy#my life and see all the people i love doing the same. all ive been able to do this week outside of finishing school my job application etc#is doomscroll about the shootings and covid and monkeypox when i really should be doomscrollimg through my fucking save tag that i curated#specifically to counteract these situations and give me reasons to find hope but i don’t have the strength or see the point bc im only gonn#lose the hope again. but i know there’s a point but i can’t get myself to see it and maybe it’s bc km just so exhausted but idk. and one of#the WORST parts of this is that if the job works out i am going to have to understand that people will look at me differently part of which#means that people — STUDENTS like i just was 2 days ago!!! — will look to me expecting that i have answers or at the very least hope and i#literally do not have hope right now and after national events this month i don’t know if i’ll ever feel hope again. so it’s like fuck i#wont be able to do my fucking job that i feel called to do and want to do more than anything lol. but i already won’t be able to do it bc t#the chances that i can go to [insert convferwrnce] when it involves being on a plane and navigating people who won’t wear masks are so low#and * already snarked about it to me yesterday which really hurt my feelings like i don’t think she was trying to be mean but it’s like yes#the fuck i can hide in the van forever i do NOT want to get covid. but i also do not want to miss [conference] and it’s just so stupid that#im going to have to keep making these choices because this nightmare country has decided covid doesn’t exist anymore. idk lol#i know everything in my life could be a lot worse and also that it is objectively WORLDS better than it was very recently bc i graduated an#im done now. but this month has sucked so unbelievably bad and June is also going to be hard and im just scared i will never be happy or#hopeful again or that every time i am something new will knock it down (which is a given living in the usa lol) and that it would be#unethical to try to do the BASIC bare minimum things i have always wanted to do in my life. lole#negative tw#ask to tag#abortion tw#shooting tw#mass shooting tw#monkeypox tw
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ladyseidr · 2 years
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Okay, i’m doing some clearing up on this blog because i think it’ll make getting back to writing less overwhelming. All asks older than 5 months have been deleted + i’m going to be doing another cleanse of my threads. nothing super recent will be deleted, but anything else is fair game. i’ve really gotta lower my draft number lmao
as always, take this as an invitation to bombard me with new asks, ask for starters, or jump into my IMs for plotting. 
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friedricebunny · 5 months
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Usually I don't post about my writing on this blog but I had to flex today about how I decided at the start of the month to take on a bit of a modified nanowrimo challenge where I just tried to write daily. Now I'm not an advocate of write every day advice but I've always been genuinely curious about what it's like to write every day. I missed some days bc of mental health and college reasons so I can't call my challenge a success technically but I'm really proud of myself for how much I did this month
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gasstationlady · 2 months
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the start of something beautiful | a lando norris social media au
pairing: lando norris x private!reader (fc: tyla)
lando is spotted with an unknown woman, and everyone thinks she’s another fling. however, later revealed as naomi campbell’s daughter, lando's fans slowly start to love her despite her tendency to be private.
notes: btw, i’m so sorry i’ve been mia for a while! honestly, i have a ton of drafts i’ve written over the time i didn’t post, but i lowkey hate all of them lmao. anyways, hope you enjoy this fluff :)
disclaimer: swearing. photos not mine. OLD PIC OF JAZ AND ROSS (yes it’s a warning bc i’m still mourning that relationship, and ik i’m not the only one). there are a few mistakes in the tweets that i was too lazy to fix lol. also, i hope the flow doesn’t feel too rushed!
masterlist
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris, yourbestie and 138 others
yourusername 🌸
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yourbestie 👀
↳ yourusername 🙈
yourbestie framing these pics brb 😍😍
f1gossip
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2,993 likes
f1gossip We received these photos of Lando and a girl today! It looks like the same girl he has been spotted with for the past 3 months, but it’s still unclear who it is. ☕️
View all 202 comments
user three months of them being pictured AND YET NONE CLEARLY CAPTURE HER FACE. that’s some bs
↳ user no deadass bc you guys had one job 🙄
user lmaoooo i know the delulu fans are crying that she’s still here
user Are we sure it's the same girl? Lmfao even if it is, he's probably going to get tired of her soon!
user god i hope people learn and treat her better than how they treated luisinha
landonorris
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 759,301 others
landonorris First time trying wakeboarding 🤙
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user happy lando >>>
user Where’s your girlfriend
user not the red bull life vest lmfaoo
user lando rlly said here’s some shirtless pics to distract u
↳ user frrr but like it’s not working 😭
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f1gossip
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12,321 likes
f1gossip Naomi Campbell and daughter, Y/N Campbell, making an appearance at today’s GP! It's presumed that Y/N is dating Mclaren driver, Lando Norris. Our sources in the paddock mentions that the two visited the Mercedes, Ferrari, and Mclaren garages before the race. 👀
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user i'm literally in love w her she's soo beautiful 😍
user this actually makes sense that they knew each other since naomi has been connected to f1 for a while now
user I would be unstoppable if I looked like her.
user she looks so kind 🥺🥺
user oh the things i would do to reincarnate as a wealthy person’s child
user i was there and got to meet her and i’d just like to say that i’d go to war for her
landoupdates
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landoupdates Max, Lando, and Y/N (seen in second photo, far right) with fans at an after party! We received these pictures a few minutes ago, and the fan included “Y/N mostly stood behind as Max and Lando were asked for photos but she was so so kind !! Although you can tell she likes to keep to herself, she told me she thought my dress was cute and even got Lando’s attention for me so I could ask for a picture 😭 Also, he kept holding her hand !!!”
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user her face card is insane.
user now that we know she's naomi's daughter, i can't believe we didn't see it before LOL
user “he kept holding her hand” 😭😭😭😭😭
user I have never wanted someone to go off private so bad 😩
user honestly she’s my new fav wag
user it’s the way everyone loves her rn lmaoooo
user LANDO CAN YOU FIGHT
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f1gossip
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f1gossip Lando, Ginge, and Ethan possibly alluding to Lando’s new relationship with Y/N in the recent Quadrant video 👀👀
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user not them clowning him 😭
user i mean we all know by now that they’re together but this was the cherry on top
user melting over how he couldn’t stop smiling 🥹
user the fact that he kept this clip in 😩😩
user I AM ONCE AGAIN ASKING “LANDO CAN YOU FIGHT”
user I get it 😭 I also wouldn’t be able to hide that I’m dating Y/N
user perfect example of private but not a secret, in love with them 🥹🥹
landoupdates
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landoupdates A few photos of Lando and Y/N at the paddock today ☺️
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user literally my fav couple
user when is he gonna make it officially on insta
↳ user My thoughts exactly!! 😭😭 I know not everything has to be posted, but I’m just excited to see him officially announce it.
user my girl y/n looked so fucking good today
user i just want him to post her solely because i want more y/n pics
↳ user LOL you’re so real for that
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landonorris
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liked by yourusername, angryginge13, georgerussell63 and 1,221,334 others
landonorris We so good ❤️
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user THE HAND PLACEMENT
user not tagging her is criminal 😭😭
↳ user girl what’s the point when she’s on private
user When will it be my turn 😩
user LANDO??? OMFG
user TURN IT UP IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE 😁😁😁🔊🔊
user omggg i can’t, they’re goals
user Y/N IS SO CUTE
user i luv my parents
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hangmanssunnies · 4 months
Text
The Hangman Special
Summary: On a night out with your friends at a fancy cocktail bar, you are just trying to keep your head down and ignore the girl that your ex cheated on you with. The night only seems like it's going to get worse when you are dared to kiss a stranger at the bar. However, it seems like the odds might finally be in your favor when you notice a familiar set of broad shoulders. If you can be convincing, you think you might just be able to get your brother's friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin to help you out with your little problem.
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Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Word count: 7k
AO3 Link
Warnings: 18+ only, kissing, hot and heavy make-outs, exs, truth or dare, bad friends.
Author's note: Dreaming about kissing Jake in a bar. Thanks to everyone who looked at earlier drafts of this. I hope you enjoy this if you take a chance to read. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.
The bar is buzzing with the loud chatter of patrons, the clinking of glasses, and the rhythmic beat of music. You are sitting at a corner table with your friends, a group with an eclectic mix of personalities. You are known for being more on the shy and reserved side, but tonight, you are even more withdrawn than usual. No one had mentioned that Tassie had also been invited to the evening's hang out at the bar. An oversight you felt was probably intentional since everyone knew Tassie had started dating your ex only a week after your breakup. She went so far as to post a picture of them together on her Instagram. It had been a few months since that happened, and until now, you had managed to avoid running into her. However, it seemed like luck had run out.
"Hey, I've got an idea that would spice up the night," Cece says after the first round of drinks. She is one of your bold and outspoken friends, and you aren't sure you like how she is eyeing you with a mischievous glint. "Let's play truth or dare." 
The whole group groans at the suggestion, and one of your friends vaguely wonders if you're all still in middle school playing that kind of game. Despite the initial lack of enthusiasm, after another round of drinks, the group is laughing and entrenched in the game. 
When Cece sings your name when she finishes her turn, you are nervous by the sly smile she is wearing as she formulates an option for you when you hesitantly concede to doing a dare. "You're the only one of us still single, so I dare you to go over to the bar and give somebody a kiss." 
"What?!" 
"Just a quick one, nothing too scandalous," Cece says placatingly. "Come on, live a little! It's just a bit of fun. What's the worst that could happen?"
"I bet they won't do it. They're too chicken for this kind of thing, not one to step out of their comfort zone," Tassie says. It makes your blood freeze in your veins because you know those words. You have heard that criticism thrown at you in the past, but not from her, from your ex. 
Your eyes narrow at her, and you ask, "Too chicken? Seriously?"
"Yeah. Please, prove us wrong. Show us you can do something spontaneous," Tassie taunts, grinning. You feel a surge of defiance welling up. Even though you're reserved, you are not one to back down from a challenge, especially not when the woman who cheated with your boyfriend is acting like you're the one who should be ashamed. Acting like she is better than you. 
"Fine, watch this," You declare, feeling hot with a mixture of embarrassment and determination. As you stand up, your friends exchange amused glances, convinced that you are about to back out of the dare. 
With absolutely no intention of  backing down, though, you scan the bar. After a moment of examination your heart soars because you realize you have this dare in the bag. You have the advantage even, because there is a familiar tall, broad-shouldered blonde at the bar that you know all too well. Jake Seresin, or Hangman, is one of your brother's best friends, and he is looking just as delectable tonight as he always does. The group would undeniably be impressed with you kissing someone so handsome, and you knew one way or another you could convince Jake to help you out. 
"Cece, I'll even let you pick since you made the dare. Point out the hottest man in the bar, and I'll kiss him." You say confidently. There is no doubt that Jake is the most attractive person there, and he is just Cece's type, too. She falls right into what you want, pointing Hangman out for you. The rest of your friend group hoots, making even more comments that you aren't going to follow through with the dare and approach someone who is that drop-dead gorgeous. 
Ignoring their taunts, you square your shoulders and walk with as much confidence as you can summon into sashaying across the bar. Putting mental effort into trying to project some form of hotness onto yourself not only for the confidence boost but also the bit of spite burning in you. 
Reaching the bartop area, the hesitation starts to set in as you admire Jake's profile. He is sitting on a bar stool leaning against the counter, patiently waiting for the bartender in the crowd that is starting to grow. Taking one last breath to steady yourself, you reach out and delicately set a hand on his bulging bicep. 
"Hangman!" You say brightly as if you're surprised to have run into him. Jake turns to face you at your touch, and an easy wide grin spreads across his face. 
"Fancy seeing you here, my dear! How are you?" He asks as his eyes trace you slowly from head to toe and back again, the grin on his face not slipping once. 
"Oh, I’m fine, and I am so glad I ran into you." 
"Most people are," Jake says, winking at you. You are nearly distracted by his handsome face and flirty tone. He looks like he has put on even more muscle since you saw him last. The green button-down he is wearing appears close to bursting at the seams with how it clings to him. "So, what have you been up to these days?" 
"Are you still single?" You blurt quickly, ignoring his question, not wanting to lose your steam. 
"Yes, Ma'am. Last I checked. Why?" 
"Perfect, can you do me a huge favor?" You ask. 
"I'm always happy to help out a friend," Jake says, sounding increasingly suspicious. The smile hasn't dropped from his face, but his eyes have narrowed slightly, examining you. 
Quickly standing on your tip toes, you loop an arm around Jake's neck, appreciating that he is sitting on a stool, helping level your height difference. Wasting no time, you pull him down to meet you in a quick kiss. Once his lips brush yours, you let go of him, stepping back, not even taking a moment to savor the feeling or enjoy having Jake this close. 
With your mission accomplished, you have every intention of making a hasty retreat back to your friends and hoping that you will be able to forget this. You are going to erase knowing you've kissed Jake Seresin from your brain, and then the next time you see him, you're going to pretend this fiasco never happened. It feels like the best and only course of action for you to take. 
However, you don't even get to make a full step away from Jake before large hands and thick arms circle around your waist, pulling you back towards him. He tugs until you are standing between his spread thighs, his hands maintaining their position on your waist. 
"Woah now, where do you think you're going?" He asks, eyes darting around your face, studying you closely. 
Embarrassment at having to explain your actions rushes through you, turning your stomach and overriding or maybe enhancing the butterflies there. You glance away from Jake towards your friends and see them watching with rapt attention. Then his thumb moves in a slow soothing circle, drawing you back towards him. 
"I'm sorry! My friends dared me to kiss someone at the bar, and when I saw you, well, I knew it wasn't a lost cause because you're not a complete stranger." 
You refuse to believe that the frown that flashes on Jake's face is one of disappointment. However, it's hard to ignore when his eyebrows are scrunched together, and his hands are so warm you feel it bleeding through your clothing. 
"You could at least buy someone a drink before stealing a kiss, you know. That's just some common decency." 
"I'm so sorry, Jake," you apologize again. "Let me buy you a beer for your troubles." 
"Naw, you don't got to." 
"Well, now I have to because you made me feel bad," you say, waving your arm to try and flag down a bartender. 
"I didn't take you for one to just kiss someone on a dare," he says conversationally. You try not to wriggle uncomfortably in his hold, but without even trying, he seems to have pulled you even closer. 
"I normally wouldn't be," you agree. "But the girl who I highly suspect of cheating with my ex while we were still together is here. I'm sure she thinks she's better than me and that I'm a boring prude."
"She clearly has never been around when you drink tequila," Jake laughs. You can't believe he would still remember the camping trip from years ago, where you were drinking tequila. Definitely notable because it was probably the last time you had dared have any of the liquor. 
"Can you please forget about that? And tonight, too?" You request. Jake pretends to think it over, humming lightly before shaking his head. 
"Sorry, no can do. It's already burned into my eidetic memory." You huff at his response, avoiding eye contact with him to try and catch sight of the bartender again. "You know, if you just asked me first, I would have given you the friends and family discount." 
"And what is that?" 
"Pretty similar to buy one get one free," he says, his voice dropping a little lower. Your mouth falls open in surprise, but you can't find any words. "Could have given you more than a quick peck, something that would really wow your friends." 
Trying very hard not to imagine what kind of kiss Jake would consider wowing, you decide to deflect. Jokingly saying, "Didn't think you were from one of those kinda southern states. Do you make a habit of kissing family members?" 
Jake throws his head back and laughs full-bellied at you. "The friends and family of my friends discount then," he amends. 
"I already hate being in this situation. I don't want more of a pity handout than I've already taken."
"Darlin," he sighs, shaking his head at you. "I would have even given you the Hangman special. Which is a deal, bargain, and steal. Comes with a kiss that's guaranteed to impress friends, people who cheated with your atrocious ex, everyone in this bar, and has even been known to, on occasion, inspire a standing ovation." 
"Ha.Ha. You're so funny," you say dryly, rolling your eyes. 
"I am, thank you for noticing," Jake says. "However, I think you deserve that kind of kiss to prove a point to your friends over there." 
"They didn't even think I would be able to make it over here to talk to you." You admit to him, glancing over at your friends again, a little displeased that they are still obviously observing your interaction.
"That them over there?" He asks, following the direction you're looking. You hum in acknowledgment. "Which one's the cheater?" He breathes, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, sending a shudder down your spine. 
You describe Tassie a bit to him, finding yourself shifting closer into his embrace, enjoying how he is somehow able to help most of the chaotic bar disappear from your senses. It's hard to think about the noise or the increasing number of people starting to press in when Jake's touching you. When he picks out who she is, Jake grunts a little. He lowers his face and nearly kisses your neck over the pulse point. His hot breath tickles the spot, causing shivers again as he declares, "I don't see the appeal." 
"Wish my ex felt that way," you sigh. 
"Fuck him," Jake says with conviction. Drawing a bit back from you to make eye contact again. His green eyes are clear, and in the dimmed mood light around you, they seem to shine even brighter than usual. 
"You sure you don't mind me having kissed you to prove a point?" 
"My dear," he laughs like you told him a funny joke. "I can't imagine a situation where I would mind you kissing me. Let alone one where I get to help you out." 
Sliding your hand up his chest to casually rest on his shoulder, you wonder, "Is the Hangman Special still available?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Guaranteed to be wowing?" You check. 
"Got a warranty for you and everything," Jake says lowly. 
Your hand curls around Jake's neck again, and you attempt to tug him closer to you. He doesn't even budge, though. One of his hands slowly traces up your side from your waist until he is cupping your cheek. Then Jake leans close, his breath ghosting over your lips, where he lingers for a moment. Your eyes flutter closed, and as soon as they do, his lips press to yours. This time, it's not a quick peck. 
He is slow and deliberate in how he kisses you. Tilting his head to the side to get a slightly better angle, Jake uses his hand on your face to urge your lips to align better with his. Pliable to his touch, you open your mouth to him, seeking even more, and rewarded when Jake's tongue brushes against your own. You never doubted that Jake would be a good kisser, but knowing firsthand is something you know you won't be able to erase from your memory. When the kiss starts to border on indecent, he pulls away. 
You linger in the moment, keeping your eyes closed until your heart doesn't feel like it's going to burst from your chest. While you are in that limbo spot, his thumb slowly strokes your cheekbone. Sea glass green is the first thing you see when opening them again, Jake not making any effort to veil how he is admiring you. His lips are slightly pinker now than they just were, and you can't help but imagine how pink and swollen they would get if you had the opportunity to get this man alone on a couch. 
Just as you consider requesting that he kiss you again, just to really really solidify how good you are to your friends, because obviously, three kisses are much better than the one they dared you to get, you are suddenly bumped from behind. The motion roughly shoves you against Jake's solid chest. Both his hands automatically return to your waist, tightening as he steadies you there. Glaring over your shoulder at whoever bumped you, he asks, "Are you okay?" 
"Yeah, I'm okay," you breathe. Being this close to him, the woodsy scent of his cologne tickles your nose. And you suddenly wonder why exactly he is in this upscale cocktail bar dressed so nicely. 
"I'm glad you decided to kiss me and not any of these other assholes," he mutters darkly, still glaring over your shoulder. 
"Well, it wasn't really a choice." You reveal, which has his eyes snapping back to you in an instant and a frown pulling at his lips. One of his thumbs that's resumed making circles on your waist stops, and the other falls off your waist entirely now. He doesn't move otherwise, but his presence feels less consuming. Tersely, he responds, "I see." 
"I may have skewed the odds. Told my friends to pick the hottest man they could find. What would you know? They picked you." You explain quickly.
"That's some good luck on your part." 
"It wasn't luck, not really."
"How do you mean?" He wonders. 
"I knew they would pick you." 
"What made you so confident?"
"Because, Jake, you are, hands down, the most attractive person here," you reveal to him shyly. Your fingers curling into his silky shirt, where they have found themselves on his chest after being pushed. 
"See now, I don't think that's true," he says, his eyebrows pulling together. The frown is gone though, the edges of his lips quirking up again. 
"Oh please, Jake. Do not pretend you don't know how handsome you are."
"I'm aware. However, that doesn't change the fact that you're the most attractive person in this bar tonight." 
"You're a flirt," you accuse him. 
"I am," he agrees with no argument. "But that don't make me dishonest or mean I'm not genuine. I haven't been flirting with you just for the sake of it." 
Warmth blooms in your center at his words, and you nearly forget all about trying to escape away from him. Right now, you just want to get closer, as close as he will let you. However, you are pulled out of the fantasy when you look away from Jake's intense gaze to see your friends and how most of the table seems shocked and scandalized. Wryly, you notice Cece giving you two thumbs up. It's like you could almost forget that this was just him being flirty and imagine he was kissing you for more than just helping prove a point. "Well, I appreciate your help with the Hangman Special. I know they will all be impressed and jealous when I head back over there." 
"Now, wait a moment. You can't just sneak away. The Hangman Special not only comes with mind-blowing kisses but also a free night out, all expenses paid, and dinner at any restaurant you choose. "
"You just give that away to any random person who asks?"
"No, only the pretty ones I've had my eye on for a long while," Jake says, his eyes intense, the hand still on your waist flexing tighter for a moment.
"You have?" You ask, completely surprised. 
"Yes, Ma'am," he replies with no hesitation. Before you can respond, the bartender finally makes his way over to you two, asking for your order. Jake instantly defers to you before ordering, asking, "What do you want, my dear?" 
"I thought I already told you I'm taking one of the Hangman specials." You say, after taking a moment to think it over. The grin that lights up Jake's face is sunny and bright, and if you weren't being supported by his strong body, you would have probably fallen over swooning. 
Turning back to the bartender, Jake requests two bottles of water and both of your tabs. As you peek over his shoulder while he signs, you see the bill consists of just one beer, the water, and the two drinks you've had tonight. 
"So you want the full experience?" He asks you when you've taken a sip of water, and he has downed half of his in the same time. 
"From what I know about you, Jake, I don't think you're someone who does things by halves," you answer, fiddling with one of the buttons on his silky green shirt. Then you are pushing a bit on his chest, trying to step away. When you do, Jake's hands find themselves on your hips again pulling you closer to him. 
"Where you going?" He pouts. 
"I just need to grab my purse." 
"Whatcha you need your purse for, sweetheart? Don't you know I ain't going to let you pay for nothing?" Jake drawls. 
"I'm sure you want that to come off gentlemanly, but you're close to flirting with misogynistic." You say, playfully poking a finger into his chest.
"No." Grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his lips, Jake brushes a kiss on your pulse point, saying, "I know exactly who I'm flirting with, and that is you, my dear." 
The laugh you let out is slightly involuntary, but it makes Jake look like he won a prize, so you can't be too displeased, especially not when he has resumed drawing circles on your skin, and it feels like some sort of hypnosis you never want to end. "I'll be right back, and you can keep flirting with me for as long as you like." 
"That a promise?" Jake asks.
"Sure thing," you agree, but Jake still hasn't let go of you. 
"Do you want some company?" 
"You don't have to." 
"Little worried you're going to try and sneak away," he admits. 
"But Jake, I am sneaking away," you say in a fake whisper as if sharing a secret. "Sneaking away with you from my friends and this bar." It makes him smile again, just like you were hoping it would. "Just wait here for me. Okay?"
"Okay," he reluctantly agrees. Despite agreeing, the hold he has on your hand actually slightly tightens. "One more kiss?"
"I'm starting to get the feeling that you're always going to want one more kiss."
"You already know me so well," Jake grins. You press your lips against his again in a quick kiss, careful not to get caught up in it, before slipping out of his grasp. When free, you practically skip away from Jake to grab your things. 
Arriving back to your friends, you're greeted with loud whooping and even some clapping thrown in. Cece is practically giggling as she says, "I really didn't think you had that in you." 
"What were you talking about for so long?" Another one of the group asks.
"Was that kiss as hot as he is?" Someone else wonders, and then questions are coming from every direction before you can answer any of them. 
"It was great, he's great." You manage to get in. When they start to flood you with even more questions, you cut them off. "I would love to talk all about it, but I'm sorry y'all, I'm actually just over here to grab my purse." 
"There is no way you are leaving with that guy," Tassie says incredulously. 
Irritation and anger flares up in you as you turn to glare at her. "Really, there's no way? And why would that be Tassie?" 
"Come on," she says, clearly surprised that you've decided to call her out. "You're just not the kind of person to go home with someone from the bar, and he doesn't really seem like your type." 
"I don't know how tall, handsome, funny, and phenomenal kisser could not be someone's type," You say harshly, snatching your purse and jacket from where you had been sitting. 
"I'm just trying to look out for you," she responds sharply. 
"I don't think that's true," you snap back. 
"Hey now, why don't we all chill out," your friend Marv cuts in placatingly. 
"Sorry to interrupt," a familiar southern drawl says from behind as a warm arm wraps around your shoulder. You nearly sag into Jake. The urge to explode on your friends, more specifically Tassie, instantly absorbed by his presence. "But I was promised I could take this one out on a date tonight." 
"We can't let our friend just leave with a stranger," Cece says, and you turn to narrow your eyes at her, frowning that she is butting in when she is the one who set all this into motion in the first place. 
"While I respect that, I don't think you get to make that decision," Jake says lightly and a lot nicer than you would have in that moment. 
"You could be a crazy serial killer or something," Tassie says. 
"While I am a killer, that's normally just how people describe me in bed," he answers in a flirty, exaggerated way. That has you nearly coughing, you suck in air so hard. He gently pats your back and continues on. "If you're really worried though, you can look me up on Instagram. That's at LT.H_ANGM_N. I hope y'all have a good night. I know we will be," Jake punctuates the sentence with a kiss to the side of your head. 
Stuck between laughing and balking you glance around at everyone’s surprised faces at Jake’s boldness. You know exactly what Jake's last Instagram post was, having spent several minutes the other day debating whether you should like the shirtless picture of him on the beach. 
"Are you ready, sweetheart?" Jake asks you, practically muttering the words in your ear. All he needs is your nod before he confidently starts to turn you and lead you out the door. You manage to throw your friends a small wave goodbye, but it only takes a few steps for them to be out of your mind. 
"Did you drive?" Jake asks you as the fresh evening air rushes over you both. 
"No.” And you’re glad you didn’t when it means Hangman will be driving you home.  
"Good," he grins, "do you mind me driving?" 
"I don't," you answer easily, completely content to follow Jake to wherever he is going to lead you. 
He stops in front of a Jeep Gladiator, and you aren't overly surprised by his taste in vehicles. He goes to open the passenger side door for you, but you don't immediately take his offered hand to get inside. Instead, you tug it as you lean against the side of the truck. Jake follows the motion easily, not hesitating to bend down and mold his lips to yours. 
Jake looms over you, one of his hands balancing his weight against the side of the truck just over your head. The other on your side pulling you a bit closer to him. Looping your arm around his neck for some leverage, you let Jake take over your senses. The softness of his tongue paired with how he nibbles at your lower lip pulls a little whine from you.
When you have to pull away for a ragged breath, Jake groans low in his throat as you press teasing kisses down the column of his neck to the V of skin his shirt shows off. The hand on your waist slides up to cup your cheek and pulls you back to his lips. Kissing Jake is easy, he doesn't leave enough room for you to question if he's enjoying it. Nor do you have the capacity to overthink it as Jake's lips move surely and confidently with your own. All there is is him, his warm strong body, soft lips, and the calluses of his fingers. 
Leaning backward, you pull Jake with you wanting to have him pressed flush because even though you're tasting him, caged in, surrounded by him it still isn't close enough. However, the motion presses one of the Jeep’s jutting door hinges sharply into your back. You can't help but gasp a small "ow" as you try to shift. Concern creases Jake's features, and he pulls you away from his truck into his chest, glowering at the vehicle as if it had somehow betrayed him. 
"You okay, darlin?" He asks, his hands tracing down your back checking for injury. You lean more into his chest even though you don't really need the support, it's just nice to be in his arms. 
"I'm fine," you reassure him. 
"Let's get you out of harms way." He says pulling open the passenger side door. As you start to heave yourself into the tall truck Jake is practically picking you up and easily setting you in the seat. You blink at him in surprise at his show of strength. He remains there, standing in the open door, leaning closer and placing his hand just above your knee, his thumb drawing circles there. Then he asks, "So, where would you like to grab some dinner, my dear?" 
"I've heard of this really great restaurant I've been dying to go to."
"Yeah? Let's make it happen then." 
"Mhmm," you hum in confirmation. "It's called Hangman's House." 
Jake's thumb immediately stops moving and the smile on his face seems to shift. The genuine glint there slipping away, to something hard for you to really identify, practiced or guarded. Whatever the change was you don't find yourself liking it and immediately wonder where you misstepped. 
"So, Hangman's House, that's a pretty exclusive place. They don't usually do unplanned reservations," Jake says after what's nearly an awkward silence. 
"That's too bad. I heard that they have great service." You say a little dejected but glad he told you no in a casual manner that you can play off. 
"You're in luck though, my dear, because I know the owner. I think he would be willing to make an exception for us sometime, but they are better known for their breakfast menu." Jake responds upbeat again. 
"I like breakfast." You mutter in what you think is a flirty way. However, it's obvious that you've missed the mark when Jake's hand drops off your leg completely now. 
"Listen, if this is just a one-night thing, just some making out and fun stuff, where you are going to leave in the morning and pretend it never happened next time we see each other," he says seriously. Pausing, he runs a hand through his hair taking a measured breath, and you watch as the muscle in his jaw flexes. "That's fine, but I need to know it now." 
As you study his face intently it occurs to you that maybe even men like Jake Seresin have insecurities. Maybe he was used to interacting with people where more often than not they only saw him as a handsome face with a nice body. People who were ready to leave the next morning. The realization that a one night stand isn’t the series of events he is interested in with regards to you twists a pit of uncertainty in your stomach. You feel a little uneasy not sure exactly where you stand or what he wants with you. 
Reaching to catch Jake's lost hand and tangling your fingers, you start playing with the big class ring he is wearing. He allows the movement and relaxes his hand further, giving you additional leeway. The distraction of Jake's fingers gives you the courage to say, "I guess maybe I misunderstood that this was going to just be a nice fun night with you. Is that not what you were looking for?" 
"I do want that," Jake says adamantly. " However, I don't just want that." 
"What do you mean?" 
"I want to bring you flowers, dance with you, write you love letters. I want to explore every inch of your body and heart until I know what makes you tick. I want you to forget that any other man besides me even exists." Jake presses himself close to you again, and he turns his hand to thread your fingers tightly together. "Now I'm good, and I mean really good my dear, but those aren't goals I can make happen in one evening. So I want to start with tonight, taking you out and giving you a good time. And then I want to do the same thing tomorrow or whenever you have free time. I want to do that for as long as you will let me." 
"Oh wow," you breathe, taken aback by his declaration. "That's kind of a lot." 
"I know, but I don't want my intentions to be unclear. I wasn't lying when I said I've had my eye on you for a while. I'm happy to go at whatever pace you need; I'll do whatever you want. However, if this was all just getting back at your ex and proving a point. If you can't see yourself wanting anything more with me past tonight again, I need to know." Now, Jake takes his turn playing with your fingers as he breaks eye contact to stare at where you're intertwined. "I'll happily let you break my heart, but I don't want to be blindsided by it. 
Surging forward, you pull Jake in to kiss you again. It's an awkward angle, and the way the truck makes you taller than him feels odd. However, none of that matters when his lips are so pliable against yours. 
"I don't want to break your heart," you tell him between kisses. "I want to go on dates with you, and I want to go home with you. I want to go to bed with you and do it more than once if we find out we are compatible." 
"Are you doubting our compatibility?" Jake asks, raising an eyebrow. 
"Not really, but you know it's better to make sure with these things. Have to double check, I think." 
"That makes sense," he concedes. 
"Now let's get some food so you can take me home and then to bed. Show me these killer skills you mentioned earlier." 
"We can do a lot tonight, but we can't sleep together," Jake says mournfully.
"Why not?" You ask confused. 
"Everyone knows you don't sleep together until the third date," Jake drawls.
"That's a cliche. Plus, why does it really matter?" 
"Because I've been dreaming about forever with you, and when you want forever with someone, you don't want to skip any steps." Jake answers, dead serious and earnestly. It makes you wish you weren't in such an awkward position in the truck. If you were still outside pressed against it, or in the bar even, it would be so much easier to show him the appreciation and affection burning inside. 
"We've got to be somewhere near the third date by now. We have tonight and that camping trip we went on. Oh, and that one time that everyone went bowling. Plus, there was that bonfire a few months ago!" You say, trying to think of occasions you and Jake had spent a good amount of time together. While considering it, you also realize he has nearly always gravitated to your side during group interactions, and going off tonight, that clearly wasn't as coincidental as you had previously thought. 
"You deserve real dates," Jake responds with conviction, and the look in his eye really isn't something you can or even want to argue with. There isn't anything wrong with someone wanting to act like a gentleman with you; it's actually flattering, especially when it's clear Jake isn't going to play any guessing games with you concerning his feelings. 
"Well, then we are wasting time when we could be on our first date," you say, pressing another peck to his lips and lightly pushing him away from you. 
"One last kiss," Jake whispers as he lurches close again for another peck. Then, he gently closes your door and jogs over to the driver's seat, asking where you want to get a bite to eat. 
The two of you end up at a fancy Italian restaurant where you share an appetizer, bottle of wine, and dessert. During dessert, Jake insists you pose for a picture. Despite your initial resistance, he convinces you, and then, nearly as soon as he takes it, your phone lights up with a notification telling you that you’ve tagged you in his story. He tells you before you even ask that he hopes your friends looked him up on Instagram but requests that you repost it on your own just in case they didn't. He claimed it's so they know he's not kidnapped you, but you suspect that it's more likely he wants to prove a point. And it's something you don't mind one bit, especially when he easily lets you post a picture of him on your own story. 
After the restaurant, Jake drives you both out of town a bit to where the sky is much clearer and the stars are visible. The evening isn't warm enough to cuddle in the truck bed like he wanted, so instead, you end up in the backseat with the moon roof completely rolled back. You manage to pretend to be looking at the stars for about three whole minutes before crawlingl into Jake's lap to kiss him. 
Before the making out can get too heated, Jake grips your chin, urging your face upwards to look through the moonroof. Gruffly, he mutters into your ear, telling you to behave. Words that only make you squirm in your newfound place sitting on his lap. He lets you stay there, though, his hands steady on your hips, and his lips leisurely brushing yours or your neck whenever inspiration strikes. 
"What were you doing out tonight looking so nice?" You wonder absentmindedly, unbuttoning the top button of Jake's shirt. It's not with an ulterior motive. Really, it's because Jake's shirt is so soft, and the top of it is hiding his dog tags from you, which you have suddenly decided is unacceptable. The new skin exposed to you is just an added benefit. 
"Ah, nothing to worry about darlin'." 
"Common, you can tell me," you say, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. 
"You know, whinnies?" 
It takes you a moment to place the restaurant and remember that it's across the street from the bar where you met up with your friends. "The wine bar?" 
"Yeah," Jake confirms. "Well, I was on a date there." 
"Oh." When Jake doesn't say anything, you decide you have to push the conversation forward. "So, what happened to your date? Were they not nice?"
"No, she was real sweet," Jake says, and you feel your stomach drop as if you aren't in the back of his truck and sitting in his lap right now.
"So why did you end up at Gem's?" 
"I was checking Instagram before she got there, and I saw you post that you were at Gems, right across the street. And no matter how nice she was, I knew it wasn't fair that I was thinking of a different person the whole time. So, we didn't even make it through appetizers before I had to be honest with her about that, and then I swung by Gems, hoping I would bump into you." 
"You were at the bar just to see me?"
"Sure was. So imagine my surprise when you found and approached me first."
"How would it have gone if you had approached me first?" You wonder. 
"For one, I would have offered to buy you a drink before stealing a kiss," Jake says teasingly. 
"You're not going to let that go, are you?" 
"Probably not for a while," he tells you. You groan and hide your face in his neck as if that will save you from some of the embarrassment. Feeling his chuckles in his throat and rumble in his chest is soothing, and you pepper more kisses to his neck and collarbone as if you were tracing the sound.
"You wouldn't have left without a kiss, though?" 
"I wouldn't have left without seeing you, and I would have done everything to try and convince you to give me one," Jake promises. 
"How would you have kissed me for the first time?" 
"Are you asking for another demonstration?" he wonders. As soon as you nod in affirmation, he pulls you close, repositioning you on his lap so you're straddling him. The darkness of the truck makes it so you can't quite see how green his eyes are, despite that they are still somehow bright.  He holds eye contact with you for a long moment. His hand cups your cheek, and like earlier in the night, he pauses, not closing the gap, observing you close. When you try to lean forward and seal your lips, he backs his head away. Then he chastises you while wearing a smirk, "I'm goin' to kiss you, baby. Now, let me do it how I want." 
Anticipation tingles in you as Jake leans close; however, at the last minute, he swerves, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then the other cheek, your forehead, and your nose. Finally, his lips meet yours firmly. Closing your eyes, you sigh into the kiss. The feeling of being intimately connected to Jake again is nearly the same as relief. When your mouth opens, Jake licks into you, searching out your tongue with his own. 
There no longer seems to be any will in Jake to tamper down the heat of your kissing. He allows you each time you push the envelope of the moment being just the soft sweet first date kissing he initially claimed to want. As he sucks on the sweet spot, her discovers on your neck, the way you grind downwards is involuntary and completely by accident. A low moan comes from Jake, and you like the way it sounds. So, the next time you grind down on him, it's completely intentional. 
The dark slacks he is wearing don't do much to conceal his hardened length. After a few more rolls of your hips, Jake's hands tightly grip your waist helping you grind against him. He urges you into a rhythm that has whimpers, moans, and gasps passing from both your mouths between hot kisses. As you try to speed up, frantic lust beating so loud you can hear it in your ear, he doesn't let you. Though you are on top of him, there is no doubt that Jake is in complete control. 
Just from this night, it's not difficult to imagine how he will be in the bedroom. Strong,  consuming, and in control. You can picture how he will confidently lead you exactly where you want to go, and you will get there because just a back of the car's make-out shouldn’t cause someone to be as turned on as you are right now. You unbutton his shirt and let your hands roam over his chest. Dragging your nails along his abs causes a full body shudder and Jake to grip your ass so hard you think you might bruise. It doesn't bother you, though, because how can anything that gets you closer to his cock be a bad thing? 
“Jake,” you say in a sudden moment of clarity. He hums his acknowledgment but keeps kissing at your neck and squeezing at your ass. A particularly hard thrust upwards from him nearly has your brain going fuzzy as you desperately try to hold yourself together.  “Jake,” you repeat more forcefully, “we need to stop.” 
“What’s wrong?” He asks concerned, detaching his lips from your skin and losing his hold so he is barely touching you. 
“If we keep at this I'm going to beg you to fuck me right here right now,” you answer. He makes a strangled groan. With his swollen lips, lust filled eyes, and hard dick you're sure he wouldn't actually mind. “Which would be amazing but you told me about a three date rule and I agreed.” 
“I did say three dates,” he responds and looks like he hates himself for it. 
“But if it doesn't actually matter I would like to suck your cock at least once before we fuck.” You boldly tell him, twisting his dog tags in your fingers pulling them taut against Jake’s neck until the release beads give away. The chain falls into your grasp, and you use the warm metal to distract yourself. 
“Fuck me,” he breathes throwing an arm over his eyes and leaning back. “You're perfect, you know that?” 
“I'm not.” 
“You are. So perfect, so hot.” He kisses you like he's about to ignore what you just said. Hot and a little sloppy with tongue and a bit at your lower lip. When he pulls away he rests his forehead against yours saying, “We are going to stop now  because I don't want there to ever be a doubt in your mind that I'll keep the promises I make to you.”
Your stomach flips with affection, and you sag, leaning heavily into Jake, just hugging him tightly, waiting for the lust that's sparked to cool. The two of you even manage to get some actual stargazing in where hands roam but in more so in an exploratory way than sexual. 
Holding hands driving back into the city you can’t stop staring at Jake’s profile, or admiring his fingers or tracing the veins of his forearms. You are focusing on trying to convince yourself that this isn’t a dream, you're definitely going to wake up with hickies in the morning, and another date with Jake Seresin scheduled tomorrow. It’s something that if you had been told at the start of your evening, you would have laughed at the absurdity of the idea. 
"I know it's really soon, but do you think that if you asked me again in a few weeks if I'm still single, we'll be able to change my answer?" Jake asks you after a bit breaking the comfortable silence you two had been in. 
"I think that's possible. What do you think about that?" You wonder. 
"I would change my answer tonight if you wanted me to."
"Jake..."
"Listen, I really like you, and I don't see that changing anytime soon. So as soon as you give me the okay, I will bring you flowers with a promise ring and ask if you want to go steady with me." Jake's thumb rubs along your pulse affectionately, "I'll change my Facebook relationship status. I'll get a nice little charm with your name on it for my dog tags. I'll take you to meet my friends and brag about how amazing you are." Jake leans over at a red light to press a soft kiss to your lips. "The whole shebang." 
"That sounds nice. Does that deal have a special name, too?" 
"Yeah, we can call it the Jake special. It is a whole package, long-term, all-inclusive deal." 
"Extended warranty?" You check jokingly.
"It actually has a no-return, no-refund policy," Jake answers.
"That's a pretty big commitment," you whisper back, even though the idea of keeping Jake all to yourself sounds nothing but appealing. 
"It's not something that expires. So how about tonight, we just worry about getting you home where you're going to let me walk you to your front door and give you a kiss goodnight."
"Just one kiss?" You ask in a pretend pout. 
"Let's shoot for two, but don't be surprised if it's three, maybe even four." 
"I want five," you declare stubbornly.
"Then I'll give you six," he easily offers. 
You try to hide your smile but don't quite manage it. It's a permanent fixture the whole drive home and during all seven of the goodnight kisses you get. They aren't the best kisses in the world because Jake is smiling through them, too. It's okay, though, because you both know there's going to be more in the future, a lot more. 
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chelseeebe · 4 months
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still into you
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after abruptly leaving hawkins (and you) seven years ago, eddie munson, ex-boyfriend turned rockstar, makes a grand return. how will things pan out when your lives couldn’t be further apart?
this has been in the drafts for god knows how long and you can definitely tell where my writing started to improve as i came back to it.. hope y’all enjoy anyway! this is so long good lord. also includes a bit of bestfriendism with stevie!
18+. mdni. smut. mentions of alcohol. eddie is a dickhead. no use of y/n!
read part two here.
‎♡‧₊˚
‘you know he’s coming back next weekend?’ steve mutters, nodding towards you as you rip the sellotape from the brown box, beginning to stack the cans of soup.
‘is he? oh my god oh my god,’ feigning excitement with a straight face.
you’d already known he was coming back, you’d received the invitation just like everybody else. except, you’d swiftly put the gimmicky piece of paper into the trash and got on with your day. confused why everyone else seemed to be losing their goddamn minds over it.
he huffs quietly, helping you with the heavy tins, ‘are you gonna go?’ steve didn’t actually work in melvalds but came in on his breaks purely to chat and distract you from your work.
‘am i gonna go? hmm, let me think.. no.’
‘he wants to see you.. you should come,’ prodding his elbow into your side, collapsing the box into a flat piece of cardboard.
‘you spoke to him?’ ears perking up. you didn’t care if he’d mentioned you. no, really.
‘yeah.. he called a few weeks ago, y’know when the invitations got sent out,’ picking up the next box to start filling the shelf.
‘oh! it’s nice to know he called you and just hilarious to know i never got a phone call,’ getting frankly quite sick of hearing about eddie fucking munson and his grand return.
once upon a time, eddie had actually been your boyfriend. must’ve been 7 or so years ago by this point.. anyway, that was before he’d got his big break and decided that he was going to completely forget about hawkins.. and about you. you’d still been together after his first tiny tour, excitedly waiting for him to come home when he just.. never did.
he’d had the decency to at least call and tell you that he was breaking up with you.. we’re just in different places right now.. it’s not you.. i don’t want you to ruin your life waiting for me..
it was essentially a whole bunch of bullshit, because the very next month he was spotted with some bottle blonde model looking suspiciously close at some club he’d have absolutely hated the year prior. it was like a punch to the gut, flicking through the pages of the trashy magazine just knowing that you hadn’t been enough for this new lifestyle of his.
from then on, you’d decided to disengage with any and everything about him. turning the tv off when corroded coffin came on one of the morning talk shows, leaving the room at parties when one of his song’s inevitably came on and just completely blanking out of the conversation when his name was brought up. it was easier that way, saved your feelings and the awkward glances you’d get.
at some point things had become slightly more complicated and you’re not sure how exactly it had happened but you had wound up pregnant. and by jason carver no less. maybe it was your shared disdain for eddie that had brought you together. who knows?
but it had happened and now you had to deal with it. and although jason may come in a close second to world’s biggest assholes.. you had gained a beautiful daughter from it all and had become quite content with your single mom life.
people had come and gone, robin jetting off to some fancy college in california.. jonathan and nancy ending up in new york at some hot-shot newspaper.. the kids you’d sort of gathered had all gone off to various colleges, becoming adults themselves. all except for steve.
steve had stayed in hawkins like you, begrudgingly following his father’s footsteps, getting a job at his accounting firm. it was good money and kept his dad happy so he couldn’t fault it really. he’d even got his own place just down the street from your house and at some point you’d just accepted that he was probably your only friend in hawkins.
it had brought the two of you undeniably closer and maybe you’d even call him your best friend now. well, except for right now as he was beginning to piss you off with all this fussing over eddie.
‘you have to come.. it’s not just for him, everyone is going.. it’s a reunion,’ steve continues to pester you despite your efforts to shut him down.
‘steve, i’m not going and that’s that.’
he sighs, staring at you with a blank expression, ‘okay, well.. i’ll tell him it’s a maybe,’ checking his watch before frowning, ‘shit, i’m late.. i’ll see you later,’ throwing the empty cardboard to the floor before dashing off down the aisle, giving you an exaggerated wave as he disappears.
you just knew that he was not going to drop this until you agreed to go. but he could kick and scream as much as he liked, you had absolutely zero desire to go this flimsy reunion and even less desire to see eddie in the flesh.
-
it’s another dull week of stacking shelves and managing a team of absolute morons and before you know it, it’s the day before that fucking reunion and steve is still as incessant as ever that you must go.
‘my mom can look after ella.. please just come,’ he sounded like he was a second away from getting on his knees to actually beg you to go.
you’d started to just ignore him now, getting on with whatever you were doing, choosing to give him the silent treatment. he hated that.
‘you’re so annoying,’ he scoffs, still helping you unbox the bags of chips, ‘will you just come for five minutes.. you don’t even have to talk to eddie, it’s the first time we’ll all be together again.. puh-leaseee,’ breaking into a weird sort of sing-song tone.
you exhale through your nose, visibly frustrated by the man, ‘i’m going to ban you in a minute,’ raising your eyebrows, taking the same tone you used when ella was being a brat.
‘no you won’t,’ furrowing his brows, ‘what if i promise to stand in between you the whole night? i’ll beat him with a stick if he even tries to talk to you,’ completely serious with what he just said.
you chortle, covering your mouth as one of the elderly customers walks past, slightly bewildered by the noise that just escaped your mouth, ‘couldn’t you just beat him with a stick anyway?’
‘ehh.. not really, he is paying for the whole thing,’ straightening the bags of air he’d just placed on the shelf, ‘i mean, i could if you really want me to.’
you roll your eyes, of course he was. he’d rented the fanciest restaurant just outside of town for your gaggle of pals. any chance to flaunt the fact that he’d made it out of this hell hole and left the rest of you in the dirt.
‘i have a child, steve, i can’t just go out and leave her at home.. some of us aren’t free like you are,’ turning to face him with a stern hand on your hip.
‘i just told you my mom’ll look after her.. she hasn’t seen her in so long and.. and you can stay at mine and i’ll take you to her first thing in the morning,’ his eyes are round, glimmering in the harsh overhead lights.
‘i don’t have anything to wear,’ shrugging, you really didn’t. becoming a mother isn’t quite so glamorous and a lot of clothes you’d once fit into had become a little tight.
‘when d’you finish?’
narrowing your eyes at him, ‘two..’
‘great.. okay well, i’ll take a half-day and we can go shopping.. on me,’ wiggling his eyebrows at you. the thing about steve is that he believes that most problems can be solved by throwing money at it.
he wasn’t wrong, of course.
because you reluctantly agree to go shopping with him on the condition that you weren’t definitely going to this thing. you were just going to try on dresses. that was it.
-
you get a cab to the restaurant, there was no way in hell you were doing this sober nor did you want to subject steve to being sober for your sake. palms clammy as you clamber out of the vehicle, immediately regretting your decision.
no one would care if you didn’t go, right? you could quite easily just get back into the taxi and go home without forcing yourself to endure the night.
steve’s one step ahead of you, grabbing your hand so you can’t run away. throwing him an awful glare but you weren’t really mad, just annoyed that he’d succeeded in persuading you to come.
‘c’mon.. it won’t be so bad once you’re in there,’ smoothing down his fresh shirt as he begins to walk up the winding path, dragging you along behind him.
he’s wrong. it’s so much worse inside. the place was huge, extravagantly decorated and full of people you’d once regarded as your best friends, all too busy in their own conversations to notice you and steve walk in.
it wasn’t like you hadn’t heard from them, it had just been through occasional letters and christmas cards rather than seeing them face to face. robin would call sometimes, fill you in on whatever she had been up to and beg to speak to ella who absolutely loved it. you were sure they were on the same wavelength.
you look to steve with wary eyes, digging your fingertips into his hand, ‘we could just leave right now.. no one would even know,’ tugging gently on his arm.
‘hey,’ he whispers, ‘it’s okay.. look, robin’s coming over, we’ll say hi and see how you feel,’ using his spare hand to wave at the bubbly girl, dropping your hand to give her a hug.
‘oh my god,’ she rushes, ‘how are you? you look so good.. and i don’t mean you,’ pulling away from steve to throw her arms around you, her gentle hands rubbing on your back.
‘hah, it’s nice to see you too,’ steve rolls his eyes, grabbing two of the champagne flutes being ferried around by fancy waiters.
she pulls back, ‘i didn’t think you were coming.. how are you doing? how’s ella?’ the words falling out of her mouth at super speed, it was as if her mouth moved before her brain did.
‘i wasn’t gonna but i wanted to see you guys,’ you nod, taking the glass from steve’s outstretched hand and taking a lengthy sip, ‘i’m okay.. ella’s okay.. you’ll have to come and see her before you leave.’
‘i will i will! i literally landed like two hours ago and had to rush but i’m back until friday,’ her hands flying around as she spoke, ‘come and say hello..’ her arm intertwines with yours as she leans in closer to your ear, ‘he’s staring y’know..’
your eyes roll back on their own, not even wanting to search the room for him, ‘i’m not speaking to him so he can stare all he likes,’ straightening up as you approach the group robin had left.
nancy’s talking to max about something in incredible detail but is quite to stop when you approach, mouth in a small ‘o’ as she hugs you, ‘you came? i thought we were gonna miss you,’ grinning wide when she pulls back.
you give an overdramatic sigh, ‘of course i had to come.. you’d all miss me too much,’ waving to the rest of the group.
there are a lot of small pleasantries swapped, asking about their journey’s here and how they’d been.. standard small talk. but then el asks to see a picture of ella, ecstatic that their names were so similar. you’d come prepared, pulling the creased picture out of your bag.
they all gush and coo over her, it was a picture you’d snapped from her first day of kindergarten, cheesing with her pigtails and pink hair bobbles. passing it around the gathered group, still steadily sipping on the bitter champagne.
‘who’s that?’ eddie asks, you hadn’t noticed him sidle over to the crowd, stood peering over lucas’ shoulder at the photograph.
your eyes meet his, seeing his face for the first time in what felt like centuries. he looked older, obviously, still sporting the same long curls except now it actually looked as if it’d been styled. he’s in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, forearms now littered with tattoos and a nice looking watch. your heart just about stops beating when you realise you’ll now have to explain exactly who that is.
‘uh.. that’s ella,’ you nod, not quite meeting his eyes, ‘..my daughter,’ taking the photo from lucas’ hand, the atmosphere had quite suddenly shifted and people begin to scatter, starting their own conversations so they don’t have to bare witness to this one.
‘oh.. oh, right.. well, congratulations then,’ the shadow of a smile on his lips, could he feel how fucking awkward this was?
‘thank you,’ giving him a half nod, startled as steve’s hand brushes the small of your back. he’d seen that you were in conversation and had left dustin to fulfil his security guard promise.
‘it’s nice that you two found each other.. you have a beautiful daughter,’ still not fully committed to smiling but he was getting there.
your face contorts, immediately looking to steve before letting out a god awful cackle, ‘oh no.. she’s not steve’s,’ covering your mouth before another taunting laugh comes out.
steve is trying to stifle his grin but fails, reaching his hand out to shake eddie’s hand, ‘ah man, no ella’s not mine but she is beautiful, isn’t she? how are you?’
you’re eternally grateful that he he’s managed to sway the conversation and you aren’t forced to explain why or how you’d had a child with jason fucking carver. turning back to robin as you hear steve ramble on about work and corroded coffin’s new album, something you had absolutely no care about.
‘shall we get another drink?’ robin asks, eyeing the open bar and your empty glass.
‘please.’
the rest of the night is going.. relatively well. it’s kinda unsettling to watch the younger kids drink legally, getting more boisterous and loud as the night progresses. it’s nice, if not a little sad just thinking about how you weren’t really able to enjoy yourself at their age because you had a newborn.
you must’ve been deep in thought as you don’t even notice eddie creep up to the empty table, standing awkwardly besides your chair, ‘can we talk?’
your eyes shoot up to meet his, baffled by his presence, ‘what could we possibly have to talk about?’
he exhales through his nose, ‘uh.. a lot? we don’t have to do it here.. i have a room upstairs or.. outside?’
‘no,’ gripping onto your glass of wine, desperately trying to grab the attention of someone behind eddie to come and save you, ‘i don’t want to speak to you.’
he’s exasperated, clutching onto his beer with strained white knuckles. how were you ever supposed to move past this when you wouldn’t even give him the opportunity to explain himself. but that was exactly it. you didn’t care about any of the silly excuses you’re sure he’d conjured up, he did what he did and that was that.
‘i’m trying here..’ sounding exasperated, ‘how ‘bout dinner? sometime this week, on me,’ his voice is deeper now, raspier. you figure as a result of constant partying and chain smoking while on tour.
‘i have a child and a job.. i don’t have time for dinner with you on top of that,’ swallowing the rest of the sweet white wine, putting the empty glass back on the table with a forceful slam.
you make brief eye contact with will who was passing behind eddie and decide to take the opportunity to pounce, standing from your chair and rushing over the second he nears your table.
‘will.. hey,’ speeding to catch him up, mouthing a small save me, clinging to his arm as you move away from eddie who was stood deflated at the table.
will thankfully catches your drift, steering you towards the bar, ‘you okay? i was just about to leave..’ placing his empty glass onto the bar with a soft sigh.
‘what? no.. if i can’t go then you’re not allowed either,’ talking sternly to the boy even though he now towered above you and just about everybody else in here.
he screws up his face, looking over to the dance floor, ‘it’s just..’ sighing once again, ‘awful, isn’t it?’ following his gaze to an intoxicated mike performing an elaborate air guitar routine in the middle of the floor.
it wasn’t exactly the same, but you could empathise with the difficult situation and that foul feeling in your stomach that you were sure he could feel too. you could imagine that it wasn’t easy to see the man you’d once, or perhaps still loved after so long. in fact, you didn’t really need to imagine at all.
deciding it was better to change the subject, distract him from the unraveling scene on the dance floor, ‘d’you smoke?’
he looks around quickly, watching out for a listening jonathan, you assume before he nods quickly, ‘but no one can know,’ a hint of a smile creeping onto his face.
you return the devilish grin before hooking your arm in his, pulling him towards the door where you could get the hell away from annoying men and their long black hair.
-
it’s gone three by the time you get back to steve’s, genuinely having to coax him from the party and into the cab you’d shared with a belligerent dustin, making sure he had got home safely.
‘i wasn’t too mean, was i?’ snuggled up in steve’s blankets, facing each other in the low light of his room.
‘nooo, no you were on fire,’ he laughs, he was still tipsy and slightly reeking of booze as he lay next to you.
‘really? you’re sure?’ he was definitely just drunk and blabbing on but you’d take it.
‘yes.. it was perfect,’ he hiccups, interrupting his sentence, ‘buuut.. and i’m not the only one who said this so don’t kill me..’ kissing the back of his teeth, ‘you’re not gonna like what i have to say.’
‘what? what is it?’ prodding his shoulder with a quick jab. knowing eddie, he’d probably gone round the party whispering some bullshit about the two of you.
‘well..’ holding his hands in the air, ‘there’s still chemistry there.. y’know i could see it,’ raising his eyebrows, hands collapsing onto the blanket.
‘right, i’m going to sleep.. you’re drunk and just saying stupid shit now,’ rolling your eyes as you settle into the soft pillow, closing your eyes so you no longer had to entertain his idiotic nonsense.
he chortles, hiccuping mid-laugh which makes a horrid choking noise, ‘i’m not that drunk.. robin said it too,’ the lamp clicks off, darkening the room, ‘and dustin..’
‘go to sleep steve,’ unamused and tired.
‘okay okay.. goodnight,’ he calls, you can hear the smile in his voice as he turns to face the other way, taking that as your opportunity to rest your head on his back, nuzzling into the soft cotton t-shirt.
-
monday is particularly awful and you’re reminded exactly why you don’t drink often. two days on and you’re still exhausted, half-heartedly filling the shelves and just trying to make it to two o’clock.
in your tired state, one of the bottles of shampoo you were putting out, falls out of your hand and rolls off somewhere down the aisle. you sigh, a deep, fed-up, exhaustive sigh and get up to go and fetch it when the bottle appears before your face, a tattooed, ring-filled hand latched onto it.
‘carver? really?’ eddie frowns, watching you from above, eyebrows furrowed together.
you place the bottle onto it’s rightful spot on the shelf and choose to ignore him. if he’d come all the way down here just to piss you off about your poor life choices then he could get fucked.
‘when’d that happen?’
blanking him again as you continue to put stuff onto the shelves. this was the easiest way to guarantee that you weren’t going to get yourself fired for being rude to him.
‘you gonna ignore me? i just wanna know,’ still poking and prodding, he clearly wasn’t very good at picking up on context clues.
nothing.
‘fuck, can you just talk to me for five minutes?’ your silence was driving him crazy, aggravating him to no end.
‘i’m at work, so no,’ hurriedly trying to finish the stock you had so you had an excuse to rush out the back and away from him.
he was fortunate that it was a quiet monday, the store full of mostly older ladies who had no idea who he was. you sorta hoped that he’d get mobbed and would have to hurry off and leave you alone.
‘why jason? out of literally everyone else in this shithole you choose jason?’ screwing his face up in disgust.
you slam the box cutter down with a loud clatter, causing a few turned heads and raised eyebrows. fuck ‘em. if you had done what you’d really wanted to do, you’d be locked up forever.
‘i don’t know if you remember this but my boyfriend of like, two years ran away and never came home so yeah.. that kinda fucked with me a little and lucky for me, jason carver was there and also hated my ex’s guts.. so it was perfect, you know?’ staring flatly at him, you were not dealing with his shit today.
eddie scoffs, ‘so you had a kid with him? and now.. what? you play happy families just to spite me? is that it?’
‘yes eddie, i had a whole child just to piss you off.’
he gawps back at you, clearly also did not possess the ability to sense sarcasm.
‘no,’ scowling at him, ‘it was an accident and now he’s.. i dunno, coaching basketball at some school in ohio or some shit.. why don’t you go and bother him?’
‘so you’re not together?’
you can only roll your eyes in response, in sheer disbelief that he’d made such a fuss because he couldn’t just outright ask if you were single.
un-fucking-believable.
you’ve had just about enough of this conversation, pulling your little trolley back towards the swing doors that lead to the warehouse. at least he wasn’t allowed in there.
‘wait! wait..’ he grabs onto the other side of the trolley, stopping you from walking off, ‘have dinner with me tonight or.. tomorrow?’ eyes big and pleading.
‘now why would i do that?’
‘because i want to explain myself.. i need to.’
one of the younger shoppers notices who he is and begins trying to talk to him, coming over to where you two stood rather excitedly. eddie is kind enough to smile and give her a few polite words, eyes still latched onto yours despite the ecstatic woman beside him.
‘okay,’ honestly just wanting to get away from all this commotion, ‘tomorrow.’
his scowl subsides, replaced by a gleaming grin, ‘six o’clock.. pino’s, i’ll sort it, okay?’ already starting to walk away from the crazy woman.
‘right,’ you nod, pulling your trolley away and into the back warehouse, leaning against the concrete wall. the whole exchange was tiring, knocking whatever tiny bit of energy out of you.
were you actually gonna go?
absolutely fucking not.
-
by the time six rolls around the next night, you really had forgotten all about it. rushing to get ella her dinner after swimming lessons, already worrying about paying for yet another field trip she’d sprung on you earlier. you’d begun to wonder if they even taught in the classrooms anymore with the amount of permission slips she brought home.
she’s finally settled into bed, after much protesting and a lot of coaxing. you’re just about to finally relax on the couch when someone hammers on your front door. and if you weren’t already pissed off with ella’s whining, you were most definitely about to be with whichever mindless prick was banging on your door.
‘what do you want?’ you hiss, jerking the door open to reveal a pathetic looking eddie on the other side, face forlorn and dejected.
he’s in that white shirt again. it makes you sick to your stomach to admit that it really does look good on him. his arms now more defined, the cotton sticking to his muscles, briefly showcasing the new tattoos underneath. maybe he’d actually got off of his ass and did something other than smoke weed all day.
‘oh so you are alive, d’you forget about something?’ he’s snarling now, having conjured up some elaborate excuse in his head as to why you hadn’t showed, only to find you at home, seemingly with no care in the world.
‘oops,’ the corners of your mouth twitching into a smile, you hadn’t even actually meant to stand him up, you were just gonna call his hotel and cancel but the thought had just completely slipped your mind.
and even if it shouldn’t, it really did feel good. knowing he was the one sat waiting for you for once.
‘oops? i sat there for an hour waiting for you and then spent the last hour trying to convince dustin to give me your fucking address.. and all you can say is oops?’
you shrug, ‘feels pretty shitty to be forgotten about, doesn’t it?’ tilting your head, watching as his face falls. he’d been got.
‘okay.. okay, i get it, and i’m sorry.. there’s not a day that goes by that i don’t feel like shit for how i treated you,’ his head dips low, looking particularly sorry for himself.
and for a second you do too. not that he deserved it. quickly having to remind yourself exactly what he had done to you, which was not at all helped by the fact that he now had everything he’d ever wanted in life.
and you couldn’t fault your life. truly. but fuck did it sting sometimes, to know that your life had stagnated, stuck in the same shitty town you’d grown up in while he was on the other side of the country, more money than sense and a hoard of doting fans that would do absolutely anything he’d ask of them.
‘good,’ you bark, going to slam the door shut only for it to bang against his black boot wedged in the door, ‘if you don’t move your foot i’ll- i’ll call the police.’
‘no you won’t,’ his hand reaches out to grab onto the other side of the handle, he could’ve easily pushed his way in if he’d really wanted, ‘let’s talk.. like adults,’ begging you now, ‘please.’
you huff, this would end with you either letting him in or being forced to wake ella after you bashed his head into the doorframe. it was easier to just accept the first option and you’d find some bullshit to get him to leave later on.
opening the door wider to let him in, keeping your eyes square on the ground as he walks through, peering around at your home. probably comparing it to his mansion in the hollywood hills the pretentious fuck.
‘nice..’ he nods, leaning in to look at the photo of you and ella a few christmas’ ago, she was tiny then, sporting a miniature santa hat.
‘yeah well, she’s asleep upstairs so.. make it quick,’ you frown, closing the door behind him, watching as his eyes take in the cluttered room, smile fading when he catches sight of the singular picture you have up of jason and ella.
‘i can’t believe you chose to fuck jason of all people.. i mean, i’ve made some shitty decisions in my life but..’ he stops himself from going any further when he sees your face, if looks could kill, he’d be long gone by now.
‘did you come here for a reason? or are you here to talk about my life decisions.. because i really don’t want to hear it from you,’ crossing your arms over your chest, wanting him out of your house.
‘no.. no, shit- i’m sorry,’ he shuffles on his feet, banging his head, ‘i wanna talk.. properly.’
you roll your hand to motion for him to continue, ‘go on..’
he inhales, chewing on the inside of his cheek, trying to psyche himself up to actually say what he wanted to say. it wasn’t that he didn’t know what to say, he just couldn’t string it together to make sense.
‘i’m sorry for the way i treated you.. it wasn’t right and i know that now,’ his hand coming to rub the back of his clammy next, why was your house so fucking hot?
‘okay.. apology accepted, was that everything?’ you say flatly, glancing up the stairs to make sure ella wasn’t awake and out of her room.
his face falls, ‘can you just.. just let me explain,’ his adam apple bobbing as he swallows, ‘why don’t you sit down..’ motioning towards your ratty couch.
you relent your stern stature, hesitantly going to sit on the couch, trying to ensure that he couldn’t possibly sit next to you by sprawling your legs out onto the empty cushion. so he takes the seat furthest away, running his hands down his tight jeans. designer, no less.. the only person you knew stupid enough to spend thousands on designer jeans just to tear holes in them.
‘when i ended things with you, i wasn’t.. well, it was me, but i had my manager screaming in my ear that it’d never work and he could hook me up with some fuckin’ model.. it’d help the band.. so that’s what i did,’ and for once, he looked genuinely remorseful, fiddling with the loose threads on his expensive jeans.
‘so you sold out? that’s your excuse?’
his head shoots up, mouth hung open with absolute disgust all over his face, ‘i am not a sell out.’
which is incredibly refutable, you’d heard a snippet of one of their recent songs on the radio at work and it had sounded exactly like the commercial shit he used to rag on when you were together. not a touch on the corroded coffin you sat and watched practice for hours on end.
‘oh? so you didn’t break up with me to further your career? you just wanted to fuck hot models? which one is it ‘cause i’m a little confused here,’ completely losing it, springing up from your slouched position.
‘okay, yeah.. yeah i did, i broke up with you because i wanted to fuckin’ make something of my life.. and look at where i am and look at-,’
‘-don’t you dare finish that sentence,’ you snap, gritting your teeth together as you near his face, positively shaking with rage.
‘what’re you gonna do? you gonna hit me? do it,’ his chin tilted to match your elevated position, eyes glued to yours.
‘i should.’
his lips twitch into a smirk, ‘you won’t.’
and before your brain has the time to really process your next movements, he balls his fist into your t-shirt, causing your chest to collide into his as his lips smash into yours, knocking the air out of your lungs.
scrambling to find his shoulders for balance, sliding one hand onto his stubbly cheek. it’s all teeth and tongues, he’s ravenous and unrelenting, letting go of his grip on your shirt to place his hands on your hips, ‘move,’ mumbling against your lips as he attempts to manoeuvre you onto his lap while twisting around.
he slides down the couch, keeping a solid hold of your body as you find the right position. your legs are either side of his waist, sliding into the gap between his body and the couch sitting right on his crotch. wasting absolutely zero time in connecting your lips against, honestly not wanting to run the risk of him opening his mouth and ruining this.
his large hands find solace on your ass, creeping up to remove the oversized shirt you’d thrown on. you place your hand above his, restricting him from moving any further. it’s not that you were embarrassed- okay, maybe you were a little. but your body had changed since becoming a mom and eddie had become accustomed to gorgeous models and perfect women that he’d certainly not want to see your boring, frumpy mom body.
he groans in protest, trying again to lift the shirt further only for your fingernails to dig into his hand, ‘no,’ speaking into the filthy kiss.
eddie pulls away from the kiss, fingers coming to gently brush the hair from your face, ‘you can’t be serious? i’ve seen it all before,’ he grumbles, fingers itching to try lift it again.
‘not like this you haven’t.. i just.. want it on, okay?’
‘no- why won’t you let me take this off?’ fingers curling around the hem, already trying his luck with getting it up again.
you sigh, meeting his blown out eyes with your glossy ones, ‘i don’t even know what i’m doing.. fuck,’ attempting to climb off of his lap while the spare hand he has on your ass clamps you down, keeping you pressed to him.
‘hey.. hey, keep it on.. i don’t care,’ already trying to chase your lips, ‘i’m just saying, you don’t need to,’ the denim covering his growing erection starting to rub against your throbbing clit, the sparse material of your pajama shorts were not leaving much to the imagination.
‘jesus christ, just take it off,’ giving up in your protest, it was useless against eddie’s persistence.
you press your lips to his the second your shirt is off, there was no time to judge your body if he couldn’t see it. pulling at his jacket to get it off, the metal buttons digging into your now bare skin.
‘i didn’t.. i didn’t mean.. what i said..’ babbling through the kiss as he shimmies out of the jacket, landing on the floor with a soft thud.
‘shut up,’ you whine, running your hand along the length of his chest until you reach the hem of his black shirt, gripping your fingers around the fabric and lifting it slightly, exposing his midriff, the soft trail of hair ascending the skin.
his head jerks backwards, allowing you to tug the shirt off, finally allowing his eyes to wander to your chest. ‘holy shit,’ he remarks like he’d never seen a pair of tits before. it’s futile for him to pretend that he hadn’t seen some amazing boobs in his time so you scoff, rolling your eyes.
working your hand at his belt buckle, fiddling with the metal until it pops undone. he’s hard already and it makes you groan, brushing your hand over the raised denim. this week seriously must’ve been difficult if he was getting hard so easily over you.
it doesn’t ever occur to you how much of a mistake this was. and even if it did, you didn’t have much time to ponder on it as his hands are grabbing at your breasts, palming them as his lips suck at your jaw and down onto your neck softly. guaranteed to leave a lovely violet mark that the old ladies at work would certainly gasp at.
he’s helping you with his jeans, one hand gripping onto your waist to keep you steady as he lifts his hips from the couch and the other hurriedly yanking them down just enough to reveal his boxers. that’s the next port of call, fingers grabbing at the thin black cotton, pulling them down his thighs as his cock springs into action.
eddie’s lips are still on your neck while you mindlessly wrap your hand around his cock, pumping your fist as you shuffle upwards. his breath hitches in his throat, still peppering sloppy kisses to the sensitive skin.
‘oh god,’ he whines into your collarbone, feeling his eyelashes flutter against your jaw. for a man who had been painted as womaniser in the media, he sure was still just as pathetic as he used to be underneath you.
you’re a little annoyed that it’s you who’s taking control right now. after so many years of disrespect from his end, you think he at least owed it to you to take charge.
your hand grabs onto his shoulder, pulling his face from your neck, ‘be quiet, okay?’ sitting taller to position yourself comfortably, the harsh fabric of the couch grazing your knees.
he nods, sliding his hand up your waist and back to your hip, taking in the sight of you. you wouldn’t ever admit it aloud, but truthfully, you really did miss him sometimes. missed the way his pretty pink lips looked after being glued to yours or the way he gazed at you doing the most mundane tasks.
you cant your hips, sinking down onto his length slowly, biting down onto your bottom lip as his cock fills you to the hilt. his eyelids flicker, fingernails digging into your doughy hips. it’s been a little while since you’d done this so you have to take a second to become accustomed to the slight stretch. it’s good, in the most masochistic way.
your hands cling onto his shoulders, watching his slack jaw, tiny breaths escaping from his mouth as you attempt to move. painstakingly slow at first, knees beginning to shake as you try to remember what you should even be doing. your cheeks flushing, feeling so incredibly embarrassed. the man was fucking models and then you’re here, pitifully trying to ride him. it’s awful, you know it’s awful.
his arm comes to snake around your waist, taking matters into his own hands and flipping the two of you around, your back suddenly pressed into the couch. holy shit. you appreciate the initiative, wrapping your legs around his waist, readjusting your grip on his shoulders.
‘need you a little faster than that darling,’ large hands digging into the couch either side of your head. you’d feel utterly mortified if you weren’t thoroughly enjoying the sight of him looming over you, his hair falling beautifully into your face.
eddie starts slow at first, moving his hips slowly, obviously well versed. your mouth opens but no noise escapes, well aware that you weren’t the only ones in your house. instead you pant softly, desperate for his lips to grace yours again.
it’s not long before he’s quickening his pace, unable to contain himself when you feel so perfect around him. ‘i missed you- fuck, i’ve missed you so much,’ he groans, keeping his voice low despite wanting to start screaming.
you don’t reply, too fucked-out to even think about words. eyes drooping as his cock nudges against the soft spongy spot no one other than him had been able to reach.
the couch creaks beneath you, the old thing unable to keep up with his rutting hips, the top of your head knocking into the arm rest every time his hips collided with yours. your living room had never bore witness to such filth and as quiet as you were trying to be, the sounds are indistinguishable.
having to bite down onto your lip when his thumb meets your clit, legs tightening around his waist with every soft circle he draws around the sensitive bud. eddie was never bad in bed but holy shit, maybe money had done something right for him.
he sits up, soft sighs falling out of his lips as his hand disconnects from your clit, sliding toward your knee and positioning your leg onto his shoulder. your nails press into his forearm, willing yourself to stay quiet even now he’s seemingly trying to kill you.
and through it all, he’s smirking. relishing the way you’re writhing around, trying not to cum when he nudges against that sweet, spongy spot this position allowed.
his thumb finds your clit again, ‘holy shit sweetheart.. you gonna cum?’ grunting softly with every thrust.
you’re positively wrecked beneath him, face pressed into the couch cushion as your stomach flips. panting into the fabric, incoherent ramblings of eddie’s name and a bunch of curse words fill the room.
‘cum for me baby.. shit,’ struggling to keep his own pace as you tighten around him, leg trembling around his neck as your orgasm takes over. pleasure overtaking your limbs as your hips buck instinctively, thankfully muffled by the couch.
‘oh my god,’ you breathe, struggling to see straight when your eyes eventually reopen, gazing up at eddie above, certain he’s about to draw blood from his teeth digging in to his lip.
‘where.. where shall i- shit,’ he squeezes out, feeling his hips begin to stutter, eyes rolling to the back of his head. he’s just about quick enough to pull out, thick ropes of cum paint your thighs. narrowly avoiding the couch.
if you had the energy to get annoyed, you would’ve snapped, but in all honesty, your brain was still reeling and anger was the last thing you felt.
eddie reaches over, ever the gentleman and grabs his shirt to clean his mess. didn’t matter to him obviously, he had more than enough money to buy another.
and there it is. the bitterness filling your body again the second he’s no longer on top of you, or inside of you rather. you attempt to bite it down.
‘you wanna talk now?’ he asks, pulling his boxers back up to a more respectable position.
‘i’m tired eddie,’ and you are, on a school night like tonight you’d have been fast asleep by now.
he sighs, shoulders slumping over. even after you’d just had the most mind-altering sex, you couldn’t speak to him. ‘please,’ pleading with you almost, desperate for one more chance.
maybe it’s the exhaustion or maybe the dopamine still pumping through your brain but you concede, pulling your shirt back over your head before motioning for him to speak.
‘i don’t have any excuses, i’m just-,’ he sighs, turning on the couch to face you fully, ‘i’m sorry for hurting you, i was wrong and i know that,’ his eyes are dipped, peering at you from underneath his spindly lashes, ‘why d’you think i’ve avoided this place for so long?’
‘i don’t know? because you’re a pussy? because you’re too scared to face me?’ letting the words rattle off your tongue without much thought.
‘because i’m embarrassed,’ he corrects, without much offence, ‘because i’m ashamed and feel like i owe you more than some dick and a shitty apology.. i just didn’t know how i could ever make it up to you,’ half-moon eyes glossy in the low light.
your heart thumps in your chest, blood echoing through your ears. eddie munson, world renowned rockstar was sat on your couch, apologising for something you should’ve forgotten about a long time ago.
the years of hatred and avoidance come tumbling down in a millisecond. all you’d ever wanted was to hear him say sorry. to admit that he’d fucked you over for a life of fame and now you had it, you weren’t exactly sure what to even do with it.
‘okay.. now what? are you gonna make it up to me? because i want to believe you eddie, i do.. but you can’t just traipse in here and expect me to forgive you like that,’ the tears roll over, sliding down your warm cheeks.
he nods, grabbing onto your hands in a last ditch gesture to show his sincerity, ‘i’m going to.. i-i want to,’ he’s still nodding, bringing his face closer to yours, ‘tell me how, i’ll do anything,’ adam’s apple bobbing with every word.
‘stay here,’ your eyes are trained on him, ignoring the blurred vision, ‘not forever, just for now,’ lips pursed, ready to be broken once more.
you half-expect him to come out with some sorry excuse, tell you he had to get back to his hotel so he couldn’t possible stay here.
but he doesn’t.
eddie takes your hand, tugging it gently and with words you don’t register, babbles something about bed. so you follow him, allowing him to guide you to your room and slide in between the sheets next to you.
everything is so gentle, soft and pure. something you hadn’t felt in a long time.
-
‘hey.. sweetheart,’ eddie’s hand gently shakes your arm, whispering into your ear, ‘you awake?’
you squint in the dim light, feeling his hand descend onto your waist, chest pressed against your back, ‘i am now,’ you grumble, it was early.. early even by ella’s standards.
‘i gotta go.. you got work today?’ he asks, making no effort to actually get up and leave your bed though.
you nod into the pillow, rubbing your sleep heavy eyes. in your sleep hazed state, you shuffle, moving backwards against him.
‘okay.. shit- don’t do that,’ strained as you shift against him, unknowingly brushing against his cock, ‘i’ll be back.. after you..’ he’s losing it a little now, ‘after you finish..’ lips pressed to your ear.
you were moving deliberately now, just ever-so-slightly rocking your hips back and forth, you could feel him growing against your ass.
‘i can’t..’ he groans, grip tightening on your hip,
‘please,’ you breathe, reaching backwards to find his mop of curls, taking a fistful for leverage as his own hip’s thrust into your backside, his low growls only spurring you on.
you had been on your own for so long now, could he really blame you?
eddie doesn’t leave for another hour, creeping out of your house with his head low and a shit eating grin plastered on his face.
-
the key turns in your door as you’re loading the dishwasher. you’d given steve a spare for emergencies but it seemed to get used for anything but.
he slinks into the kitchen where you stand with your back to him, ‘hey,’ already knowing who it was.
‘well hello,’ announcing his presence, something about his tone of voice already seemed off, he sounded short, annoyed almost, ‘how have you been?’
‘i’m good..’ you spin to face him, puzzled by his strange demeanour, ‘how are you?’
he’s holding onto something behind his back but you can’t quite catch a glimpse, ‘actually.. i’m a little pissed off,’ you can tell he’s not completely serious by the hint of a smile on his face.
‘hmm? why’s that?’
he looks around the room expectedly, ‘oh i don’t know.. you don’t have anything to tell me, do you?’ shaking his head, still gripping onto this mystery object.
‘no..’ narrowing your eyes, determining whether he knew what you thought he knew.
he did, he one hundred percent did. holy fuck. he’d figured you out already. eddie had opened his big, stupid mouth and told dustin, who would’ve told steve and god knows who else. fucking moron.
‘no? soo..’ his pulls the magazine from behind his back, flipping it to the page he’d already saved, ‘this isn’t real then?’ shoving the glossy pages into your face, ‘because to me.. this looks an awful lot like eddie.. at this very house,’ he jabs his finger at the pixelated image, ‘and this little blob here.. that’s you, no?’
you’re utterly gobsmacked. mouth hung open in pure shock. because that most definitely was eddie.. and your house.. and you. you hadn’t seen anyone with a camera, hell, you hadn’t seen anyone on the street at all.
‘and correct me if i’m wrong, but is this not our friend eddie leaving your house the next morning?’ showing the next image of him leaving your house the day after, hair unruly and messed up, holding his denim jacket in his arms as he climbs into his car.
your mouth moves but no words come out, croaking as you struggle to meet steve’s eyes. completely speechless, there was no feasible excuse. you had been caught with your pants down. literally.
‘i can explain,’ waving your hands around while steve stands smug against the kitchen counter. ‘..no i can’t,’ shoulders slumped as you blink at your best friend, no you really couldn’t. suppose you could’ve come up with some lie about a look-a-like you’d been seeing but that would’ve made you look particularly strange.
‘were you ever gonna tell me?’ he’s almost hurt that you hadn’t ran to him to tell him immediately. this was true best friend gossip and you’d kept him from it.
‘i was! steve.. i don’t even know what happened- he came over to apologise and then we were arguing and then.. then we had sex and it’s not my fault..’ you’re trying, and failing, to contain your smile, flashing your cheeky grin to your best friend in the hopes he would let this slide.
‘i can’t believe you didn’t tell me!’ jutting his bottom lip out, ‘so, you’re getting back together?’ his eyes sceptical yet sparkling with a sense of hope. you’re grateful that all he seems to care about is the fact you lied. or actually, withheld the truth as you preferred it.
‘no.. well.. no, we had dinner together yesterday and he might’ve stayed over but no..’ shaking your head, ‘he’s leaving again soon and we both know what happened last time..’ you shrug, leaning back against the counter, ‘i guess i don’t hate him now, that’s good isn’t it?’
steve looks perplexed, ‘wait wait wait.. so you’re just.. screwing around? and then he leaves again, that’s it? what’s the point?’ taking a seat at the small kitchen table, fully engrossed in the conversation.
‘i dunno.. i guess that’s it?’ you hadn’t really thought about the fact that he’d be leaving again, in fact, you hadn’t really had time to think much at all about what was happening.
you’d just sort of acknowledged that at some point he’d go back to california and you’d stay here and whatever was happening would.. end? it wasn’t as if you were going to be super upset about it like you once were. lots of people fuck their ex’s.. this was fine.
because that’s what this is, right?
just sex with an ex?
‘that’s it?’ steve reiterates, looking completely flabbergasted that the woman who once left the room whenever eddie munson’s name was mentioned was now being so casual about this.
‘yeah,’ you shrug, not wanting to make a massive deal out of it though you could always rely on steve to be over dramatic on your behalf.
‘no,’ he straightens up in the chair, ‘all of this can’t be for nothing,’ sounding utterly exasperated, ‘you two obviously belong together so why don’t you go for it? i could see you living it up out in la.. big house, big car-,’
you cut him off before he can divulge into his delusions any further, ‘i think you’re getting ahead of yourself steve,’ shaking your head at his ludicrous attitude.
you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it once or twice but it seemed silly to start imagining this crazy life together after all these years. he’d barely just made it into your good graces again, you were hardly going to run off to california with him. it was utter delusion.
‘okay okay..’ he scoffs, ‘but i still think you need to talk to him. i don’t want you getting hurt again, okay? just make sure that you’re both on the same page,’ nodding as he stands from his seat and begins to rummage through your cupboards for something to eat.
he was probably right and you knew it deep down. you weren’t keen on being the one to bring the conversation up, not after that first night. after you had sobbed in his arms in bed, letting him soothe you to sleep with a bunch of probable empty promises.
-
when eddie lets himself into your house a few hours later, steve’s eyebrows fly up his forehead but he doesn’t say a word. instead, he nods at the man, keeping his opinions to himself.
the pair of you resemble an old married couple, except you’re the grumpy old man with your wife cuddled into your side. your wife being steve that is.
‘oh.. is this uh, something that happens often?’ eddie asks, settling into the empty chair across from you. slightly miffed that steve was nestled into your side.
‘yup,’ you nod, smiling at him your chin resting on steve’s head. he hadn’t a reason to be jealous, you’d really rather poke your eyeballs out with a fork than do anything remotely sexual with steve.
‘right.. yeah okay,’ eddie says, looking perplexed but sitting back in the chair. if he was going to stick around then this would have to be something that he got used to. because you sure as hell weren’t going to stop being so close with steve for the guy that broke your heart at eighteen.
‘you want a drink?’ you ask, realising that you should probably be a good host even if it was only eddie.
‘yeah sure.’
you untangle yourself from steve and trundle off into the kitchen. steve takes this as the perfect opportunity to grill eddie on his intentions, sitting up straight and making sure that you were really gone before beginning his interrogation.
‘so.. you two?’
eddie shrugs, not wanting to get into it with steve after such a long day.
steve sighs, leaning toward eddie, ‘i’m gonna say this once.. but if you hurt her again, i will kill you,’ staring the other man down. contempt in his eyes. he was dead serious too.
‘i’m not- i’m not gonna hurt her,’ eddie sits up, praying that you’d hurry back with this damn drink.
‘i mean it eddie,’ raising his eyebrows, ‘you didn’t see how she was after you left.. i’m not going through that again, i’m not letting her go through that again.’
‘steve-,’ eddie blinks, stopping himself as you re-enter the room. hoping that you hadn’t heard their conversation, he’d only just got you to stop hating him. he wasn’t prepared to go back to that like, ever.
‘what’re you talking about?’ placing the bottle of beer in front of eddie and collapsing back into your spot on the couch.
‘football,’ steve answers quickly, groaning as he pushes himself off of the sofa, ‘i’m gonna head home, got work in the morning but i’ll see you tomorrow,’ he smiles, winking at you from above.
‘okay,’ you utter, sounding more like a question than a statement, watching carefully as he gathers his things without so much as a glance at eddie. you can only imagine what was actually said but that was truly none of your business.
you’d just grill eddie later to make sure steve hasn’t been too much of an asshole.
‘byee,’ you call out behind him, already eyeing a sheepish eddie. this’d probably be it. you’d known it was coming at some point, you just weren’t sure of when.
if steve’s sudden departure was anything to go off, you were probably right.
the door clicks shut and you turn your attention to eddie who was still sat on the solemn chair. oh god. maybe you had got a little used to having him around again and now to know that it’d all be coming to an abrupt end once again.. yeah you felt a tad shit.
‘what’d you say?’ you ask outright, it made zero sense to beat around the bush.
‘me?’ he looks almost offended, ‘i didn’t say shit.. didn’t get the chance to,’ but he’s smiling ever so slightly and your heart relaxes.
christ you were so stupid. letting him back into your life just to let him walk away a second time. perhaps you’d done something horrific in a past life to deserve this same fate twice.
‘so what did he say?’ you press, unsure of if your even wanted the answer.
eddie sighs before coming to collapse on the couch next to you, ‘it wasn’t important.. look, i wanna be honest with you,’ his hand comes to grab yours and you freeze, bracing yourself for what was inevitably going to come next. ‘you mean a lot to me and.. and i don’t want you to think that i don’t care or that i’m just leaving you again,’ his eyes are focussed on yours, full of what you hope is sincerity.
you don’t reply, instead you nod slightly and urge him to continue. this was it. the kicker. 
‘i’ve gotta go back to la next week,’ his grip tightens around your hand, ‘but i’m coming back as soon as i can, okay?’ he’s serious too and you’d like to believe him but if the past was anything to go by, you weren’t eager.
you nod silently. fuck this. once again, you were sat before eddie munson, listening to his plans to jet off to la. it felt like the cruelest case of deja-vu. if anything, you want to kick yourself for even allowing him to wiggle his way back into your heart. most people know better after the first time.
‘it’s three weeks.. maybe a month, but i’m coming back, i promise,’ he pleads, hanging his head low. he knows there’s absolutely nothing he could say to you that would make you believe him but he had to try.
you hum, frowning just a little before finally replying, ‘i’ve heard that before,’ not meaning to sound as snarky as you did, but it was true.
‘i’m serious, i’m not.. not gonna lose you again, i’ve learnt my lesson,’ his eyes are big and pleading and you’re thrown right back to being eighteen, listening to him convince you how going to la would be the best decision.
‘so.. what? you’re gonna come back to hawkins just to see me? i don’t-,’ you sigh, as much as you wanted to believe him, it just wasn’t plausible in your mind, ‘i just don’t understand, are we together or are you just coming back to fuck? you don’t have to, you know? i’ve made peace with it all and i’m fine.. you don’t have to lie to me anymore.’
if anyone was going to fuck this up, it would be you. that’s for certain.
‘what the fuck?’ he exclaims, genuinely flabbergasted, ‘this is me telling you that i’m serious about this.. about you,’ he takes your hand into his properly, scooting around to face you fully, ‘i love being here with you, and ella and there is nothing out in la worth more than this,’ you think he might just start crying, or you might. or perhaps both of you.
you sniff, not wanting to speak in fear of bursting into hysterics. it was all just so confusing and weird. you’d grown accustomed to eddie being on the other side of the country and now suddenly he was back in your life with what seemed like a a declaration of love. it was just too much to handle. and maybe you blame yourself a little, for not truly thinking about the implications of fucking your ex that had abandoned you years prior. but now it all just seemed to be hurtling in the most intense direction.
you were the one that had told him to stay after all. because really, you could’ve kicked him out, refused to ever even acknowledge him again. but you hadn’t.
‘are you telling me the truth?’ is all that you manage to squeak out. baring resemblance to a small child.
you really must’ve looked pathetic, eyes brimming with tears, bottom lip quivering as you hold in the implosion of emotions. it’s always scary being vulnerable with someone, let alone someone that once meant so much to you.
he still did. as much as you’re absolutely petrified to admit it, he’d weaselled his way back into your heart and now here you are, a mess of emotions and perplexing feelings that are too complicated to handle.
‘i promise you,’ he sighs, clearly fed up of your whining, ‘i’m coming back this time.’
and maybe you’re stupid. maybe you’re still hung up on some high school relationship that ended long ago but you can’t help it, you nod.
idiotically believing him because what else can you do after letting him into your home and your heart again.
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pertinax--loculos · 1 year
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Find the Word Tag
Poking my head back in here momentarily, because I got this tag the other day and I do really love this game. ^_^ @thegreatobsesso​ tagged me to find free, freeze, friend, front and frame.
Because this gets a little long, up here I’m gonna tag back @thegreatobsesso​, and also @spacetimewraithwrites​, @kd-holloman​, @dontjudgemeimawriter​, @inkovert​, and @oh-no-another-idea​ to find the words believe, bargain, betray, blind and bristle.
Now cuz I’m kinda between projects I’ve pulled these from a variety of sources, so let’s have a look...
Free (MTG)
Kain parries the blow with a conservation of energy that makes it look like he hardly moves, and then he has a grip on Travers's wrist and a hand wrapped in the front of his shirt and they're nose-to-nose, Travers's free arm flailing but not coming close to making contact.
"You ever turn your back on me like that again," Kain says, in a silky whisper Sheila has to strain to hear, "It'll be the last thing you fucking do."
Travers sneers as he struggles, but whatever Kain's doing to his wrist is still stopping him from properly lashing out. "Get over yourself. I'm not scared of you."
Kain smiles, and it's an ice-cold promise wrapped in soulless eyes and too-sharp teeth. "You should be."
Freez(ing) (CASCADE -- though technically this is from a prequel-ish scene, I’m just on a Flint/TJ kick atm)
“Teej,” [Natasha] breathed near his ear. “We gotta do something or we’re gonna end up like his first Handlers.”
The reaction was instinctual; TJ’s heart skipped a beat, and the spike of anxiety made him reach for the Orn, unthinking, automatic. It wasn’t like the location of his flow would be any help in this situation, but with Moran teetering on the edge of an explosion, he had to try something. Everything, if necessary. So he reached for the Orn, took hold of a thread, and pushed it towards Moran.
He gasped like he’d been hit, freezing for only half a second this time before he swayed. TJ blinked, thrown.
“Oh god,” Moran said, breathless, toneless.
TJ risked a glance over his shoulder to Natasha, who looked just as bewildered as he felt. He sensed Moran’s movement and with his hand already in the Orn threw another thread towards him as he turned back, again more out of instinct than intent.
Moran swayed again, a weird sort of sound that wasn’t quite a chuckle breaking up out of his chest as he tipped forward, bracing himself on his knees. TJ could see his shoulders move as he sucked in air as if he’d been drowning.
“Moran?” he said carefully. “You good?”
Friend (CASCADE, proper, though still on the aforementioned kick)
As he’d assured Natasha – which apparently was the wrong thing to do, but what the fuck else was new – Flint hadn’t gone too far. He’d stopped at the mouth of the alley, standing with his shoulder propped against the concrete wall, looking out onto the street proper.
TJ glanced over his shoulder to check the others were still following at a much slower pace, and then moved up beside him cautiously. He was very careful to stay out of Flint’s range.
Unnecessarily careful, if he was honest with himself.
“Your boyfriend’s a dick.”
Flint’s voice was utterly without inflection, but TJ only just managed to hide his wince.
“He’s not—” He cut himself off with an effort, sucked in a deep breath, waited a beat. The ache behind his eye started right on schedule. “What the fuck was that?”
“You ask me that a lot,” Flint said, still toneless.
TJ started to raise his hand, caught himself too late. He hesitated then pressed the heel of his palm into his eye anyway. No use trying to hide it. “You do a lot of things that beg the question.”
“So do you.”
Front (MTG)
Ethos shudders under the weight of it. He loses himself, briefly, in the specifics; he sees faces tear-streaked and blurred, he sees begging and crying and resolute stoicism. He sees bargaining and pleading and curses spat at the feet of the executioner. He sees a stay rewarded for information but the future doesn't change; the line simply extends a little further before it snaps abruptly not too long after. It's impossible to tell why. The condemned doesn't know.
This is a room full of the walking dead. And none of the decisions they have at hand can change it.
"Ethos," Casimir says, and Ethos thinks it's probably not the first time he's said his name.
He tries to pull himself back, away from the heady visceral taste of death. He twists his hands in front of him and focuses on the scratch of the rope against his wrists. It pulls him back far enough that he sees Casimir standing, once again, with his hand on the elevator door.
God. How is he ever going to sleep with this racket in his head?
Frame (from TSII, which is one of the new projects I’m flirting with. From the first scene, which incidentally is one of the two whole scenes I’ve written for this ahaha. :D)
“Shut up.” I spun around to stare down the fire escape again. It led down to a spit of an alley running between the tall redbrick buildings, not even wide enough for a car to get down. Some sort of old access path. Rust flaked from the railing and stairs and metal grate of a landing directly below the window, and the entire structure shook as Caden apparently jumped a few steps a couple of floors below us. “He’s getting away.”
Ilya sighed again. “I suppose you want me to follow him down the death trap of an exit strategy?”
I turned back to him. Gave him a gratuitous sweep with my eyes, head to toe, taking in the paraphernalia festooned across his utility belt, the muscles cording his arms beneath the skintight black shirt, the black beanie stamped with a gym logo mostly covering his dirty blonde hair. Made sure to crane my neck when I looked at that, to emphasise that I had to look up to see the top of his head.
“Yes,” I said. “Yes I do.”
Ilya grinned, slammed the knife home into its spot on his belt, and practically shoved me out of the way as he climbed out the window. He hesitated most of the way out, one leg still hitched over the sill, fingers wrapped around the frame. He said, “It’s an alley. It has two ends.”
I rolled my eyes and started for the door.
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forbidden-sunlight · 4 months
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yandere!emperor with empress!reader scenario
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warnings: infidelity, obsessive behavior, blackmail, non-con, regicide.
There may be possible triggers in this story.
If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the back button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.
You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!
Hey guys, welcome to my first yandere fic! Before we dive in, I want to let you know a couple of things; firstly, this is not the prologue of a series and never will be one because I simply do not have the time right now. It is a scenario, a prompt, that was inspired by the Fallen Kingdom series created by @cassanderasblog. I will leave a link to their work here. I credit them for giving me inspiration and being honest in their feedback when I showed them the initial draft. Credit also goes to @faux-ecrivain for helping finish a difficult scene.
Finally, please do not comment on here if you wish to harass me in some shape or form. I do and will not tolerate bullying. As the saying goes, "If you have nothing nice to say, don't say it at all." If it does happen, however, I will have no choice but to remove this scenario as soon as possible.
So, with that being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy :)
Yandere!Emperor had despised you with his heart and soul. The only reason he had allowed the marriage to even happen was to solidify the alliance between his nation and yours. He did not love you. The woman who held his heart, the one whom he trusted above everyone else in the world is Tatiana Adreeva. His mistress. A beautiful flower that should never be polluted by the nobles who dare to not allow her to become the Empress simply because she lacked the status equal to his own prior to ascension. You did. 
Yandere!Emperor did not lay a hand on you after the vows had been exchanged in the temple. He did not seek out your company, preferring to seek comfort in Tati’s bed and her arms. He had his crown, his woman, and allocated more power through his marriage with you. It was nothing personal. He simply did what he had to do so that his Empire would continue to prosper. 
Yandere!Emperor would not tolerate any rudeness targeted toward his lover, even if you had not uttered a single word to her at all or raised your hand against her.
 To him, ignoring her when she greeted you was enough to earn a lengthy lecture from him. 
But you did not cling to him or beg for mercy, as he thought you would do, or any other self-respecting maiden who did not want to anger her husband. You coldly stared at him with that, silent as the grave until he dismissed you from his office. Out of spite, he had his aide add more documents to your desk for the next month even when the work was not part of the Empress’ official duties. 
To his joy, Tatiana became pregnant with his child, his heir. Being by her side was suddenly all that mattered to Yandere!Emperor. His overprotective streak and ill temperament increased over time. He would lash out at you for the smallest of incidents, even if it was not your fault. And like before, you did not react to his words and continued with your life. 
Like what happens to him or with his mistress is none of your concern unless it is associated with the Empire and the citizens. As it should be. He did not marry you out of love. 
When the child was born, a healthy baby boy christened Nikolov, Yandere!Emperor held a banquet and invited ambassadors from neighboring kingdoms to celebrate. But it was on this day….that he knew the truth. 
Once he had made the necessary greetings and made sure the captain of the guards would immediately report anything suspicious or if Tati and Nikolov were in any danger, Yandere!Emperor retreated to his office. He looked over the stack of documents on his desk, trying to lessen his workload in the morning so that he could spend time with his Tati and his son.
Upon hearing a knock at the door, he did not look up from the outline of a treaty as he allowed the third person to enter his office without cutting off their fingers. His mistress, the head butler, and his advisor. Tati’s older brother, Marquis Aizel Adreeva. Yandere!Emperor had bought the highest status that he could give to his mistress’ family after receiving positive confirmation that Tati was truly pregnant and not a misdiagnosis.
Aizel smiled, closing the door behind him with his foot as he set down a tray, placing two silver goblets and a bottle of wine on the corner of his desk. He spoke softly, congratulating Yandere!Emperor on finally having an heir and making his sister the happiest woman in the world. He poured the wine into the goblets. He held one in his hand, and extended his other hand to the Glorious Son, Blessed by the Five Gods.
Yandere!Emperor smiled, taking the offered drink. They raised their goblets high in the air, and drank. Yet when Yandere!Emperor looked at Aizel…his merry smile was not right. Not the kind of joy that a new uncle would express at a nationwide celebration. It was tighter, almost anticipating something…to happen.
That was when he realized the wine tasted bitter. That was when the room began to spin, and it felt like his skull being split in half. Poison. He had been betrayed. Yandere!Emperor grunted, trying to steady himself against the desk when Aizel walked around the wooden structure and had the audacity to push him back into the leather chair.
“Ah, ah, ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Emperor.” Aizel chastised, his amber orbs glowing with delight. “Not going to lie, I did not think the wine would accelerate the poison as quickly I had thought, but that works for me!”
Yandere!Emperor felt a rock plummet into the pit of his stomach at Aizel’s words. “You…did this?” He gurgled. “I thought…the Empress -”
“And deny me the opportunity to see the look on your face, choking on your blood? Absolutely not. Dear, sweet [First Name] would never have done this to you. You might not have loved her, but she did respect you.” Aizel shrugged. "If Tati were in her shoes, I reckon things would not have gone as smoothly as they have." He said casually, as if he were talking about the weather and not informally speaking to the most powerful man in the Empire. 
“I only have ten minutes before I must return to the party, so I will do the honor of answering your unspoken questions. Now, where should I start? Oh, right. Why? Why did I do this when I love you like a brother? When have you treated my sister and I with nothing but kindness and respect, providing support whenever we are troubled, mentally, physically, and finanically? Well, the answer is really, really simple: I don’t. I tolerated you. I respected you. But never once did I feel any affection towards you.” His smile widened. “The one who deserves to stand by Tati's side is the Rapid Dog of The Northern Border, my brother-in-arms. Remember him? He was engaged to Tati. The man she should have married, should have been the father of my nephew. But you had the engagement annulled because she had said a few nice words to you. You threatened to seize my family’s home unless she came to the palace as your mistress? Do you remember? Why do I even bother asking? You’re going to die anyway, and we will finally be free from this gilded cage. Seven years. Seven long, agonizing years of watching my sister playing the gentle, loving role of a besotted mistress when all she really wanted to do was slit your throat. I thought about that every day too, you know? Well, almost. I actually felt sorry for the Empress, you know. She didn’t deserve to have a husband who neglected his duties and blamed everything on the one person who kept the gears in this Empire going, until now.”
“E-Empress -”
“Had an assassin give her a clean, painless death. Made it look like an accident, and he delivered! That’s very impressive for an underground guild, you know. Investment was worth it.” Aizel giggled.
“Now, it’s time to let everyone know their beloved Emperor has retired for the evening and call it a night. Big changes are coming. Pity you won’t see it. Don’t worry though, I won’t kill Nikki. I do love him…and he will never know that his true father is a tyrannical piece of shit who died in his own pool of blood because he allowed love to muddle his mind when he should have put the country’s well being above all else. Farewell, Emperor Aleksander of the Moldova Empire. From the ashes of corruption, a new country shall be born. And my nephew will rule over it in his father’s stead once he is ready. The father he should have had and not the one who brought him into this world, Duke Matthias Starkov.” 
When he awakened, Yandere!Emperor realized he was no longer on the floor. He could breathe and he could see in the mirror that hung across the room that he looked younger again. He asked, no, demanded, a quivering servant  to tell him what the year and date were, now. It was The Year of the Moon, ----.  As the crown prince of the Moldova Empire, it is his duty to select a candidate to become his crown princess, his future Empress who would rule beside him when he ascended as the Emperor. His father, the current Emperor, is growing impatient with his sixteen-year-old son and annoyed that he is still fawning over the marquis’ daughter, Tatiana Adreeva, a woman who was already engaged to a duke. 
“Bring me the list, no, tell Josef to bring it to my office immediately. I will be there shortly.” Yandere!Emperor had never pushed the servants to dress him quickly as he did at this moment. He did not know how or why, but he had returned to the past, right when he had seen Tatiana for the first time. Seven years into the past, before Aizel had poisoned him and killed his Empress. 
Sure enough, he saw his Empress’ name on the list, five down from the most qualified and right in the middle of the lengthy parchment.  [First Name] [Last Name], born to the Republic of Greiran, the Prime Minister’s only daughter.
They are Moldova’s closest neighbor and primary source of spices and various crops that are able to thrive in the harshest of weather conditions. Rumor had it that the Prime Minister himself was the one who had collaborated with the magician’s tower on this project, saving thousands of lives from suffering another winter and no harvest after the king had collapsed from a broken heart, having lost his queen after she had given birth to the crown prince.
 That connection to the magician’s tower was the only reason Yandere!Emperor had married his Empress. Access to more magical resources than the ones in the Moldova Empire, enabling the creation of magical weapons and protecting the borders around enemy nations. And yet he still died like a damned dog, blind to the respect and admiration his Empress held for him in favor of  receiving love from his murderer. But not this time. This time….he will set things right. 
He will not get involved with Tatiana Adreeva. 
He will ascend to the throne as he is supposed to.
He will be devoted only to [First Name], never taking a mistress even if the aristocracy begged him. Even if their marriage is only on paper, and she never looks at him as a man and only as an Emperor. 
He will learn everything there is to know about his future Empress, and he will never let her go. 
Taglist
@impeakcharacterdesign
@ceeesxy-blog
@mitra555
@mooly-artistic
@lxdymoon0357
@xiaopleasecomehome
@lovely-nightmares
@aurora-rose-miller
@swallowtailcherry
@justcressida
@faux-ecrivain
@yandere-dark-cupid
@likesugarandcyanide
@angelltheninth
@kanroji-san
@suiana
@swallowtailcherry
©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2023
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actuallyitsstar · 1 month
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NINE PEOPLE I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW BETTER
OMG TYSM FOR TAGGING ME @liass-21 !!!!! i am so sorry i drafted this tag and i thought i queue'd it and i didnt so 😭😭😭 its only like a month late. its fine everythings fine. aaaaaa 😭
LAST SONG? - "photograph" by the midnight! it is on my writing-for-top-gun playlist bc it has huge maverick vibes lol.
FAVORITE COLOR? - pink!!!! also lighter purples and blues and most pastel shades <3 and black
CURRENTLY WATCHING? - a streamer i have never watched before playing the remaster of of tomb raider i-iii bc i am excited about the remaster!! and those games are my childhood <3 not to be a million years old or anything sakfhfjfhg
LAST MOVIE? - unfortunately it was 'oz the great and powerful' 😭 if any of y'all enjoyed that movie i respect it, but i had to see it on tv at a friend's house and we were having a great time laughing at the very unexpected writing and acting choices being made lol
SWEET/SPICY/SAVORY? - aaaaaaaa i guess savory ?????? but sweet has a special place in my heart ajdhfjfhfjg
RELATIONSHIP STATUS? - committed long term relationship to ~my person~ <3<3
CURRENT OBSESSIONS? - well this is gonna be obvious but top gun primarily !!!! additionally, dan and phil !! mission impossible !!! fall out boy!! and even if the current obsession level is not as high as other things, i am always at least partially obsessed with a hundred other things and people that i am probably posting about at the same time lol
LAST THING YOU GOOGLED? - “oz the great and powerful reviews” bc i wanted to make sure that im not crazy and that other ppl also felt that movie was an insane fever dream (apparently due to the 44% on metacritic i guess they did lol)😭
tagging: aaaaaa @brambleberrycottage @daffodilstark @tellhound @torchflies @melancholydandelion @goosefilms @driftershunt @downthegenderriver @callsignstingray
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izjeon · 6 months
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GONEGIRL.
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athlete!jungkook x f!reader
𖥻 genre: s2l (strangers to lovers?), fwb (friends with benefits), pwp, and university au.
𖥻 rating: 18+
𖥻 word count: 3.2k
𖥻 warnings: [MINORS DNI] afab/f!reader, heavy infatuation, they basically stalk each other, a lot of sexual tension, smut is literally the plot, many mentions of wet dreams, debatable infidelity, reader has debatable morals, jungkook & reader are horny, switch!jk (but he does most of the dominating) and switch!reader, a lot of making-out, hickeys (f.receiving), reader lowkey has a praise kink, hair pulling (m.receiving), jungkook whimpers, extra beefy jungkook, dry humping… and they get caught.
a/n: this is not proofread, but why is standing next to you such a bop?? helped me finish this after months of it being stuck in the drafts. also, to whoever told me to stay in the basement, i couldn’t stick to my word, pookie 😔. enjoy!
series masterlist: GONEGIRL
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chapter one - ‘slowburn?’
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𖥻 GONEGIRL
you knew who he was.
jeon jungkook: the senior that all the freshmen drooled for and the senior that all the seniors wanted to themselves. as a senior yourself, you couldn’t say he didn’t intrigue you. he was a sporty guy, winning national and global championships in track and wrestling for fun on the side. obviously, his matches were the most popular in viewership across the university. the golden boy, he never once failed to add another gold medal to your university’s esteemed profile.
so, you knew who he was, but you couldn’t understand why his eyes were stuck on you and only you.
you’d first met him at a party held by one of his close friends, namjoon. you were introduced briefly and didn’t exchange any numbers or socials. but, that following morning, jngkk_97 followed you on instagram. and, from that day on, he was the first guy to like your posts, the first guy to view your stories and the first guy you knew of to not slide into your dms.
with his intriguing, yet unexpectedly distant, behaviour, he found his way into your mind— 24/7. so, every morning, you awoke, gaslighting yourself into believing that the thought of his pink, pouty lips on yours didn't actually send you into a midlife crisis. they just made you a little faint.
every single night, you tucked your fragile mind into bed, losing yourself in hazy dreams branded by the thought of jungkook's touch. but, after a few weeks of contactless flirting, you let the idea of him go.
because you’d been told he had a girlfriend.
although it usually took a lot to do so, you felt the cowardly urge to give up on your infatuation. it'd been more than 2 weeks of mutual stalking but, still, no message. you guessed, he just wasn't as desperate for you as you were for him.
and you didn't like that. so you quit your daily routine of streaming his instagram and greedily watched as he kept up his own stalkish routine, consecutively failing to direct his focus back onto his girlfriend.
the same gorgeous girlfriend sitting with him on a black and cushy beanbag, radiating as she spoke to the other students around them. and that's when you realised, not having each other's undivided attention must've been a thing in their relationship.
because, his doe eyes of false innocence were only on you.
it was the first time you were seeing each other in person after namjoon’s party.
you stared back at jungkook through the wide, unglazed window in the separating wall between the kitchen and the living room. even with his supposed girlfriend of 5 months on his lap, running her fingers through his hair, his eyes were only on you. you scoffed, chuckling to yourself.
he would be fun.
leaning back on the kitchen counter of jennie’s apartment, you tilted your head to the side. intrigued, you watched as he did the same, copying your actions with a lopsided grin. now, you didn’t have the best eyesight but you weren’t so blind that you couldn’t tell that he was clearly hinting at something. something that would land you in a very taboo situation.
and you loved that.
you lifted your plastic cup to your lips and turned away from the athlete sitting at the other end of the room. you downed your drink as you walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. you looked around for your best friend and there she was, face deep in boobs.
as you made your way to the couch she was sprawled on, you realised the athlete had disappeared from his girlfriend’s side. curious of where he’d disappeared to, your eyes ran across the packed apartment, desperate for the sight of him.
and there it was, the something.
he was standing near the front door and his girlfriend had gone to sit with other seniors. it looked like he was exchanging goodbyes with his friends.
he was leaving— without his girlfriend.
“jennie, i think i’m going,” you mindlessly whispered, eyes stuck on the 5’10" hottie with his foot out the door and doe eyes drifting back across the crowded room. then his eyes were on yours again: a silent exchange of words.
“already…?” a drunk jennie whined, lifting her face from the deep cleavage of her girlfriend. “wait,” she mumbled, eyebrows scrunching into a sobering expression, and squinted her eyes at your side profile. “you think?”
satisfied with your decided future, you turned back to your best friend with your lips curling into a sly grin. “no, i know.”
she lazily propped herself up on her girlfriend and whined, “but how’re you gonna get home~?”
the front door slammed shut.
“i’ll find a ride.”
𖥻 GONEGIRL
jungkook picked at the zip of his thin bomber coat. he was leaning against his black benz, waiting.
ever since he first laid his eyes on you in that little backless, black dress, jungkook knew you were trouble. you were a distraction; more distracting than the pending termination of his current relationship; and much more distracting than the thought of joining the national track team again. you were a parasite living in his mind.
he practically breathed you. when he woke, you were his first thought. when he felt compelled to open instagram, you were there. even when he would try to escape you in his sleep, you were there. he could barely last ten seconds sinking into the thought of you. if you let him sink into the reality of you, jungkook would cease to exist.
jungkook groaned, throwing back his head. he thought he would be fine and perfectly content with your instagram and your daily occurrence in his dreams (sexual or not), but you just had to show up at this party— held by your best friend. how was he supposed to know you guys were best friends? now he was actually waiting for the real you and he could feel himself going mad. he wasn’t sure he could keep his hands to himself and he could already feel the consequences of his future actions creeping up on him—
“who bought that for you?”
his ears twitched.
his heart lunged and his eyes found yours in an instant. but jungkook’s always had a wandering eye.
his eyes almost instantly fell to your body, trailing over your exposed cleavage in your white dress, and then dropping to the high slit on your left thigh, almost exposing your crotch. you were some type of angel for sure.
he was fucked.
jungkook was fucked the moment he met you; the moment he spent over an hour scrolling through countless instagram accounts to find yours; the moment he couldn’t dream of his own future without you showing up; and the moment he began to pray you showed up in his dreams every night before bed.
he was fucked because he feared once he had a hold on you, he would never be able to let go.
a man’s logic.
“my dad,” jungkook finally replied, pulling himself together. “he decided i needed a car— because i run 24/7. and there definitely cannot be a cheaper and better car than a mercedes benz.”
his sarcastic tone made you smile.
“that’s cute,” you smiled.
it went silent.
“do you need a ride?”
“don’t you have a girlfriend?” you rebutted with a smirk. truthfully, part of you didn’t care about his answer. you were an addict in front of a line of coke. you would get what you wanted one way or another.
“ha,” he chuckled, lowering his head in what you thought was shame. your question put jungkook on the spot. and you knew cheaters never worked well when put on the spot. but jungkook looked up with a wincing smile and corrected you, “she’s not my girlfriend.”
oh.
“we’re… complicated.”
now, jungkook wasn’t sure that choyeon would’ve given you the same answer. they weren’t together, but she acted as if they were. and he didn’t make much of an effort to correct her. so, he guessed he was still guilty. but he only felt guilty to a certain extent. he’d already chosen feeling guilty about hurting choyeon rather than missing an opportunity to get what he dreamed of.
what he fucking craved.
the sound of your heels getting closer to him kissed jungkook out of his thoughts. oh, you seduced him: the feeling of your manicured fingers gently grabbing hold of his chin and slowly lowering his clouded eyes to yours.
you whispered, “how complicated?”
jungkook held his breath for a second or two. how complicated were they? well, he knew they were complicated enough for him to forget about her in your presence and only remember her when you asked him to. however, they weren’t complicated enough for them to not be in some sort of a relationship.
but he decided it didn’t matter. when it came to you, she didn’t matter. he realised how beautiful your eyes looked under the moonlight. they glistened with the false innocence jungkook knew would ruin him. after all the nights of imagined panting, moaning and fucking and mornings of bitter reality, post-clarity and cum-stained sheets, jungkook burned for your touch.
fuck, he could almost taste you.
as if you could read his thoughts, your awaiting finger finally fell onto the his plump bottom lip, sweetly kissing the man out of his stupor. your eyes left his and fell to where your finger slowly traced across jungkook’s soft, pink receipt of kisses.
that’s when his lips parted, and he whispered, “as complicated as you want.”
at his answer, your distracted eyes flickered back up to his awaiting, hooded eyes. that’s when you, too, realised how dangerous your infatuation had gotten. just the sight of those buttered chestnut eyes and the intoxicating feel of his slow exhales on your skin forced you into a reality where you lacked even the smallest control over your own body. but, even more dangerous, was how little you cared about the way you drowned in his presence. but then again, you never did learn how to swim.
you smiled, letting your hands fall back to your sides.
“i’ll take that ride.”
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𖥻 GONEGIRL
the ride back to yours was almost silent, only filled with random whispers of directions coming from jungkook’s gps system. the voiced map directed him to your address and, yet, everything else pointed his eyes to you.
jungkook took a glance at you. he watched you; he watched you with your elbow propped up onto the rolled-down window, relaxed upper body peeking out into seoul’s night. he saw how you leaned further into the wind licking at your cheeks when he pressed on the gas, a hint of a smile wavering across your partially hidden face. he watched you in the silence, accepting his loud need— his loud need for you.
and he didn’t even know you. but jungkook couldn’t seem to find the rational sense to care. he knew you were a ‘stranger’ but, fuck, you’d overwhelmed his entire existence. you had damned him to the crucifying point where he actually felt the need to breathe you— to accept every single inch of you into his being— and he had no idea why. even as he glanced in your direction for the hundredth time, he couldn’t dare try to understand how you’d done this to him.
once again, as if you could read his thoughts, your head turned, lost eyes running over the lavender lights in the car. and like a key, your wandering eyes pierced his and locked his gaze onto yours.
“you’ve arrived at your destination,” the gps announced, breaking the exchanged glance. jungkook turned back to the road, and you turned back to seoul’s night.
“mm, just here,” you hummed, pointing to an empty parking spot in front of the tall apartment complex. maybe it was just human curiosity, but you found yourself mesmerised by the way he smoothly slotted the benz into the empty space.
fuck, everything he did was hot.
the sound of the engine’s hum softening into a quiet mew reminded jungkook of the anticipation clawing at his skin. it clouded his senses. but when his eyes flitted back onto you, yours were already on his.
he watched your lips part, and stilled as your next whisper left a trail of wet kisses across his mind.
“come up with me.”
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𖥻 GONEGIRL
“thanks,” you started, slotting your key into auburn door’s lock. turning to catch a glimpse of jungkook’s dewy eyes behind his black locks, you smiled and continued, “for the ride.”
jungkook’s lips quirked into the same lopsided grin from earlier. “you’re welcome,” he replied.
it was silent again.
with those hidden eyes still on yours, jungkook’s tongue slipped past his lips, running over his bottom lips. your gaze dropped to the pink tongue flitting across those pink, pillowy lips of his, and you sunk. those lips forced you into a familiar daydream where all that mattered was letting your tongue glide across his bottom lip until you slipped in, fucking his tongue with yours— tasting jungkook.
you needed a taste.
you glanced back up into his prolonged stare. then your hands were falling from the keys in the door, fingers smoothing across the nape of his neck and cheek, and tugging his lips down to yours. but jungkook’s hands were already cradling your hips, touch-starved fingers pressing into your sides, as his lips met yours first.
it was a gentle yet deep peck. a peck was quick: it allowed jungkook to draw back for two crucial seconds and let his clouded vision run over your expression. alluring eyes looked up into his gaze and jungkook could finally see it: your mutual desperation, the hunger, and the torture. it was all he needed to see before his finger was tilting your chin up once more, and his lips were taking you in.
from brushing his tongue past yours to savouring the taste of alcohol on your tongue, jungkook sunk into the taste of you. but he didn’t know if he could go any longer without sinking into you. his hand left your waist cold, fingers fumbling with the keys in the door and failing miserably. “no,” you rushed, lips barely leaving his. “turn them to the right.”
after hearing the click of your stubborn door unlocking, you were all over each other again. you stumbled into your apartment, hand quickly muddling with the light switch, with jungkook hurrying after you, tossing your keys and his suffocating jacket aside.
his daring fingers smoothed over your ass, kneading the soft, clothed skin, before lifting you to his hips. a deep hum of approval rumbled against your lips as your legs wrapped around him. but, in this position, your little dress had ridden up, exposing a white thong snug to your weeping slit. and who on earth would jungkook be if he didn’t cop a feel?
lifting you up once more to adjust his arm, the tips of jungkook’s fingers slipped under the white lace, fingers grazing across your supple ass. feeling his fingers inch closer to your needy cunt, your breath hitched and the dull stir in your core began to hum, itching for more than a simple touch.
and, as if he could read your mind, your breath was forced from you, head falling onto the lush cushions on your sofa. wafts of mint invading your senses, your hazy eyes took in how beautiful jungkook looked above you— like it was where he was meant to be. and he realised the same, the apartment’s warm and amber lights cascading through his locks and clouding the irises of your tempting eyes.
in that still second, both you and jungkook came to a silent agreement. your dreams couldn’t compare to reality.
“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered.
you blinked. you knew you were beautiful— of course— but hearing the phrase trickle out of jungkook’s pretty mouth felt…different. your eyes followed his as his gaze fluttered across your face, brows furrowing as if he were in awe.
“kiss me,” you begged, and he obeyed.
greedy, jungkook’s kisses were everywhere— on your swollen lips, before tumbling down your jaw to the middle of your neck, littering a trail of bruising hickeys. and you couldn’t do anything but moan, whimper, and sink into his sweet touch.
“oh, fuck,” you whined, head tilting back into the plush sofa. your fingers pushed through the thick rift of hair at the nape of his neck, tugging on it. but you never would’ve expected such a pathetic moan to leave his throat, rumbling into the sweet spot right above your collarbone. you paused. his moan echoed in your mind— a repeating succulent sound. so, you tugged a little harder, relishing in how he muffled a guttural whimper into the base of your neck, “mmf, fuck”. but then his hips began to move against yours, revengeful, and you realised how fucked you were— and would be.
jungkook had a bulge that made you wonder; wonder how he crammed that shit into his boxers; wonder how he lived a seemingly normal life with it; and wonder how he would struggle to cram that cock into your sopping mess of a cunt. so, as he ground down against your erect clit, your hips bucked up into his fucking, eager to measure the sheer size of the hidden dick. “oh, please,” you whined, thoughts stained by the way he licked a hot stripe across your ear’s helix, boner perfectly smushing down against your clit.
bruising lips barely touching yours, half-lidded eyes cruelly watched as you rode up into his clothed cock and stuttered moans so pathetic your cheeks burned, glazed eyes brimming with tears. he was already fucking you so good, and he hadn’t even touched your bare pussy yet.
oh, jungkook ruined you. with a hand trailing down your heated sides, he sent your body into a rabid heat, his touch only licking the wet flame ruining your ability to think. and when his hand finally cupped your leaking cunt, thumb circling over your pulsing clit, you were already begging pitiful whimpers. “please, please, please—”
“___?”
your bodies stilled.
a voice that was not yours or jungkook’s echoed throughout the apartment, piercing the thick haze that’d swallowed your minds whole. you blinked, stare slowly lowering to jungkook’s stunned stare that was already on you. his doe eyes wrinkled into a smile as his lips pursed into an awkward grin. the cringe was evident on his face; he was a grown adult getting caught with his hand deep in the cookie jar.
jungkook’s head slowly raised and turned, peeking over the sofa to see your intruder and his cockblock. then he froze. still hidden from the eyes of your cockblock, you eyed his expression, confused on why remained still, eyes wide, lips pursed and ears burning red.
who was it?
begrudgingly, you shuffled out of jungkook’s caging arms, propping yourself up on your elbows, and looked over the sofa, ready to kick out your cockblocking neighbour. but who you saw wasn’t an unfortunate neighbour you could just dismiss. in fact, the person you saw made you the unfortunate neighbour because there your best friend stood, mouth agape and only a foot into the apartment.
“oh, fuck. well, um. oh wow,” jennie blubbered, feet awkwardly wobbling over the door’s threshold. now, drunk jennie didn’t have the best memory but she could’ve sworn she’d warned you about jungkook’s relationship status. so, as you watched the cogs turn in her head, her brows furrow and her eyes squint, darting between the both of you, all you could do was blink and smile.
“…what the fuck?”
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gg: ‘slowburn?’ - fini
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