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#yeah okay i need to start writing some shit .. the vulnerability and level of intimacy and comfort of it all......
eddiediass · 3 years
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eddie soaking in the bath... peeling an orange for him and buck while buck sits outside the tub but facing eddie ..... reading to him about this new thing he’s into ... the conversation just turns into them talking about their day as buck trails his fingers up and down eddie’s legs in the water ....
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fortheloveoffanfic · 3 years
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The Arrangement
John Wick x Reader (A/n- writing sex from John’s perspective, don’t expect me to do it again. Shit’s hard af. Pun not intended but appreciated)
Masterlist   The Arrangement Masterlist   
Warnings- NSFW/SMUT, dom/sub, thigh riding, kinbaku, sense depravation, gagging, hair pulling, erotic photography, angst.
I Can Be Your Whore
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Nights without sleep were frequent and it was quickly becoming harder to count how many days had passed. The mission was supposed to be a quick one, they were supposed to make it quick. They were the Marines after all. But something had gone sorely wrong, the other side was more prepared than they thought, with everything from bombs and traps hidden in the sand to an old, depleted base infested with fighters. Some of them were men, hardened in life, but most were merely boys, at most sixteen, who’d been snatched, or probably given up by their families for a cause they under different circumstances, they wouldn’t have understood. 
John hated it. Of course, he’d been trained, toughed up and taught that it didn't matter how old they were, as long they held a gun in their hands, they were a threat. But they were still kids, and putting bullets in the heads of mere teenagers wasn’t what he’d signed up for. Though, it was too late to change his mind now.
By the time the sun had sent, the desert taking on a chill, most of their enemies had seemingly disappeared; they’d either killed them all, or whoever remained, had escaped. Still, their squad’s captain had thought it would be best to stay, though hidden as best as they could be, ready to attack if anyone returned. 
“Wick,” his sergeant hissed loudly from his hideaway behind a structure so broken that it resembled a huge boulder, “Get around,” he made a circle motions with his pointer finger, "Find Darby and kill whatever’s in your way, got it?”
“Yes sir,” John nodded stiffly, giving his gun a final once over before sneaking out of his designated hiding spot. With the night as his cover, John kept low, his steps light and hurried as he inched towards the building. If it weren’t for the blood rushing in his ears, he might have been able to hear the erratic thumping of his heart. His nagging thoughts were clouding his better judgement, forcing him to go around the deteriorating stone building and not through it and as hard as he tried, John just could shake them off.
Something’s wrong, more wrong than usual.
Something’s wrong.
Something’s wrong!
“Darby?” John called out to a man standing in the center of an empty room, he could see him though what he could have only assumed used to be a window, “Darby, what the fuck are you doing man? Cap’s looking for you.” Still, the man didn’t make a move to turn to John, instead, still standing with his back to him, completely unprotected while the heaviness of nightfall skewing his defining features 
Anything could happen
And something was wrong.
“Darby!” John called a bit louder, hoping to not draw out any of their enemies, “Man, don’t fucking play, they could-” When Darby eventually turned, John still could barely see his friend’s face, though, what he could see was only illuminated by a blinking red light coming from his chest. “No,” he gasped, his mind going a mile a minute. It would be foolish to get any closer, but he couldn’t just leave his brother in arms like that, with a bomb strapped to his chest.
Then it hit John; it wasn’t just them. The entire team was scattered about the place, if that bomb went off, when it went off, they’d be lucky to see life after it.
“I’m sorry,” Darby sobbed and when John moved to jump through the gaping hole in the wall, Darby stumbled back, “You can’t do this Wick.”
“Why the hell not?” John’s words were a gravely grunt and he slung the rifle behind his back, “I’m not gonna just let you die,” they’d known each other since the academy, Darby was probably John’s only friend since he’d left the orphanage at eighteen, he couldn’t just let things play out like that.
“Cause you’re gonna get yourself and the rest of the team killed, you need to go out there and tell them to run,” when John drew closer, his footfalls now heavy on the concrete, audible and echoing.
“John,'' another voice called out to him, though John thought it was strange, though still familiar. No one from the squad ever called him by his first name, in fact, he thought it had been months since he last heard it.
“You need to go!” Darby warned.
“John?”
“Just fucking go Wick,” Darby tried to shove him away, just as John flashed his torch on the bomb, the tangle of wires confusing to the untrained eye and the timer with barely five seconds left. 
“I’m not leaving you!” John argued.
“John,” again, she called his name.
“You don’t have a choice,” Darby was already accepting his fate, walking backwards through an old, worn doorway, “You were a good friend Wick.”
“No!” What happened next was a blur and all John registered was the perilous beeping off the bomb, the time up, and then the deafening ‘boom’ as it went off. He’d only gotten to the window he’d come in from, making it out just as the explosion began. 
“John!”
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She. She was like the first rays of sunlight after months of winter. Her touch was warm and calming, her words soothing, but only because they were said with her voice. 
Her face took shape in his mind first, leading him out of the disaster safely, though it was funny, that wasn’t how John remembered it. His version had more pain, more gore, more death. But after she’d taken his hand, it had seemed to fade, consuming black gaining a welcome light. She protected him, she gave him something that reminded him that the world wasn’t all bad. 
The light she brought, it was brighter than most others, brighter that the flames that had remained though, it was fading. Fading fast and John couldn’t keep up. She couldn’t leave, she can’t leave him, not like this. Not when he needs her.
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He awoke with enough of a startle to have Y/n’s bones jumping out, grabbing her shoulders harshly, his grip tight and assaulting. “John,” her breath caught and her eyes were wide.
It took a while; his mind settling and his heaving chest resuming to some state of normalcy. John’s eyes, from what Y/n could make out in the darkness of the bedroom, still looked frenzied and wild. His hair was matted to his face, sweat soaked and greasy. Y/n had never seen John like that; he wasn’t like the man she knew, the one who was in control of everything around him and who could dominate a room by just walking in, instead, he seemed shaken and afraid, maybe even a little broken. Still, Y/n loved him, she’d love every version of him, always, even if he’d never know it.
“Are you okay?” She asked tentatively. Now that John had settled, Y/n was afraid that she had overstepped some unwritten boundary. 
“Yeah,” John cleared his throat, quickly reassuming his usual self, not wanting Y/n to see that side of him for any longer. When she offered the glass in her hand though, John accepted it with a mumbled thanks, taking a few gulps of water, not even realizing how dry his throat was until the glass was at his lips. “What are you doing awake?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” she downcast her head, fiddling with the tie on her robe, “I got up to get some water, and I heard you. If I overstepped, I’m sor-”
“You need rest,” John cut her off. Y/n desperately longed to ask what his dream was about, what had upset him so deeply that he was screaming and tossing fitfully in the sleep, but she knew that there were some things that John simply wouldn’t entertain. He spoke when he wanted to, always giving what he thought was enough, never making the mistake of oversharing. As a testament, she could count every personal detail that she knew of John with her fingers. Y/n wished she knew more, she wanted to, if only he’d let her in.
“Are you okay?” He turned on the lamp, searching her gaze and temporarily forgetting his own troubles, “Talk to me,” he urged.
“I’m fine,” she reassured, “Would you like me to do anything before I get back to bed?”
“No,” his dismissal was gruff and brief, “Goodnight Y/n,” leaning over, John pecked her forehead, his groomed beard scratching her skin, the feeling lingering even after he pulled away.
“Goodnight John,” Y/n stood from the bed, starting the walk out of his room. But as she neared the door, Y/n couldn’t bring herself to leave, she didn’t want to just leave him like that, it was her job to make him feel good, to tend to his needs, not just sexually, but be a listening ear and a comforting haven. “John?” Y/n turned, finding that he was still sat up against the pillows, just about to turn the lamp off. His response was a hum, one that encouraged her to ask her question, “Can I sleep with you? Just for tonight, please?”
John sighed heavily, debating her request. He’d made it clear months ago that he didn’t have any interest in sleeping together, Y/n didn’t ask why, but she suspected that intimacy and that level of vulnerability wasn’t something he was used to. Or maybe he just wasn’t capable of it all together. She didn’t like that thought. 
“Come here,” John eventually beckoned her over, “Take that off,” he gestured to her robe, watching intently as it slid off her shoulders, revealing the little silk nighty that Y/n was wearing beneath. “Now come,” John peeled the sheets back and Y/n got under, letting him drape them over her. The entire interaction felt awkward and unlike all the other times he’d given her instructions. Maybe it was because those had come after she’d seen him when he was down, maybe it was because even he seemed a so uncomfortable giving them.
It was uncharted territory for them both. 
When they were both tucked under the duvet, Y/n turned on her side while John remained flat on his back, “Goodnight John,” she offered, gripping the covers loosely.
After a minute, John’s low voice broke the steady silence, “Goodnight Y/n.”
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The hardwood beneath her tucked legs was cool, though not chilly, and as she'd been stationed there for going on three hours, the position had gone from being slightly uncomfortable to one she'd grown accustomed to. Occasionally, when he wasn't typing, John would reach slightly to the side and affectionately run his fingers through her hair, which cascaded down her shoulders in loose waves. No words were exchanged between them; he didn't care for chatter while he worked and Y/n was too deep in thought to concern herself with menial conversation anyway. 
Her mind kept replaying everything that ha happened since the night before, when she’d gone into his room and then asked if she could sleep in his bed. Y/n had awoken without him that morning and she just finishing the washing up after making breakfast when John had finally appeared, his white t-shirt stained at the front with what looked like ink and smelling oddly of glue. He'd looked a little worn too, as if he'd been up extremely early, though, Y/n didn't dare be the one to strike up the topic. Likewise, John seemed completely unaffected, not even speaking to Y/n until he decided to inform her that they'd be spending the afternoon in his study and what he'd expected her to wear. 
Just a couple hours later, Y/n was sauntering into the study, waiting in the doorway for an invitation. His eyes, steady and dark, had roved her scantily and provocatively clad figure, dressed in a set of black, frilly lingerie, leaving very little left to the imagination; a thin g string, a bralette that barely covered anything and a garter belt attached to her underwear and dark stockings. Little silk bows and chiffon frills had been strategically placed to soften the appearance of the outfit, but it was what it was, as John had stated on the card stuck to the gift box, “a pretty thing for my favorite whore.” Her shoes were courtesy John too, a matching pair of peep toe stilettos that added six inches to her ordinarily demure stature. John absolutely adored seeing her in heels.
He hadn’t said anything, simply waving her in and gesturing to the floor next to him, and Y/n knew well enough what his soundless signals meant. They meant she’d have to stay put until further notice. And she did, closing her eyes in contentment when he’d smoothen his hand over her hair and letting her thoughts run wild when he’d immerse himself in his work; his fingers tapping keys on his laptop and occasionally making lengthy phone calls that always ended with heavy exasperated sighs. Y/n thought of everything; from how mollified she was to be some sort of haven from the stress and how much she yearned to be more than just an escape to what life would be like for her in the next year, if John decided that he didn’t want her anymore. 
When a frustrated swear left his lips and he tossed his pen, Y/n almost jumped, not daring to look up at him, but still concerned, “Is everything okay Sir?”
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John turned his head towards the meek question calling his attention. It was rare for Y/n to speak without permission, she was typically inclined to sit in silence,  until he requested otherwise. She was certainly the perfect little pet. But that afternoon, when her concern pierced the quiet, he wasn’t upset in the slightest. In fact, John didn’t quite know what he was feeling, he hadn’t since the night before, when she’d woken him from his nightmare and then asked if she could spend the night with him in a way he usually preferred not too. Half of him wanted to hate it, so he could maintain control, so she wouldn’t get too close and forget her role in his life, but the other half urged him to enjoy it; he hadn’t laid with someone like that in almost twenty years, probably when he was Y/n’s age. 
What had made it worse was when he’d awoken before six am, only to find himself turned towards her back, with one of his bulky arms draped over her, holding Y/n to him. Startled and unnerved by their closeness, by the unspoken intimacy of spooning, John had hastily shuffled out of bed, pulling on a t shirt to go with his sweats, he’d brushed his teeth quickly and wandered out to a logwood shed near the side of the house, where he kept some bookbinding equipment. It was something he usually did when he wanted to clear his head; sex was stress relief, bookbinding was for clarity. Though, it hadn’t really worked that morning, for when he came face to face with Y/n in the kitchen, John still wasn’t sure what he felt when he saw her. Their trip was supposed to convince Y/n to continue as his sub, not turn their relationship into something it wasn’t. Yet, that was exactly what it had been doing; lately, their interactions felt…..romantic, and John didn’t do romance. 
“I’m fine,” he grumbled, only just realizing that he hadn’t responded, and, being too frustrated with his work to pay any more attention to it, John decided to take control where he knew he’s always had it. “Come,” he patted his knee, pushing back his chair a bit to allow for Y/n to have some room. 
Easily, she sank into his lap, facing her front to his, her immodestly exposed breasts just a glance away. His rough hands found the curve of her waist, her skin warm and silken beneath his familiar touch, “I haven’t given you much attention today, have I?”
Pouting, Y/n’s petite hands found his firm biceps, the muscle straining beneath his simple, dark button up. Through her lashes, she looked between them, her gaze only ever reaching his lips, spotting the rare fleck of grey in his groomed beard, “No Sir.” Her fingers inched upwards, reaching his shoulders and massaging them slowly. Tension tightened his muscles, though, under her ministrations, John could feel it starting to melt away, “But it’s okay,” she continued absently, “Even if I miss you, I know you’re busy.”
Smiling softly, John admired her in his arms, the way her brows loosely knitted in concern and how her quips sounded so innocent and youthful, “You miss me babygirl?” He grinned mischievously, guiding her into grinding his thigh, knowing full and well how much she’d enjoy it.
Hesitating, Y/n blushed and a shy smile tickled her pink lips, “I always miss you when you're gone Sir.” There was a slight shake in her voice, and that was how John could tell that the friction brought on by the coarse denim coupled with the flimsy strip of fabric constituting her panties was already having an effect on Y/n. Her grip on his shoulders tightened and he could feel her nails digging in as she arched her back, now moving on her own, moaning quietly as her arousal grew. “Sir,” she gasped, pressing down on his thigh.
“So beautiful,” he hummed, moving some hair away from Y/n’s face, one hand still holding her steady at the waist. His erection strained against the zipper of his jeans, begging for freedom, “You want more, don’t you?” Watching her like that, knowing that he was the one with all the power, the one who could leave her a horny, frustrated mess or bring Y/n sweet release. The power that John wielded over her, it was more than enough to get him drunk. He liked it, no, more than liked it, he absolutely adored it. “Beg for it,” he rubbed his thumb along her flushed cheek, gritting his teeth at his strained hard on as he smiled, “Beg for my cock, like the little slut you are.”
“Please,” whimpering, Y/n ground harder, feeling her swollen clit throb want need, her body longing for more, “Please Sir, I need your cock.” The sound of Y/n’s low, rasped voice had John’s grip on her waist tightening and his breathing going ragged. “I want you, so bad,” her quivering voice continued.
“Only me?” He grunted, moving his free hand from her face to palm his crotch through his pants, “Say it Pet, say you're mine. Tell me who you belong to,” Her eyes were screwed shut, and for the first time in almost a week, John felt like he was truly in his element. There were no blurred lines, no maybes or what ifs, nothing extra about the way she made him feel; they were merely reminiscent of master and sex slave.
“Uhh,” the hitched breath came with Y/n’s long manicured nails sinking deeper into his shoulders, probably growing more and more frustrated as seconds ticked on. “I’m yours Sir, only yours.”
“So good for me,” John praised lowly, “Now go upstairs to my room, and wait face down in bed. Understand?”
Whining in annoyance, the ache in her center surely begging for attention, Y/n nodded, dragging herself out of his lap and letting her wobbly feet lead her out of the room. Taking a moment to collect himself, John stood a few minutes after, undoing the buttons of his shirt, shrugging it off only to toss it to his leather chair, not caring whether or not it slipped off. On his way up to his bedroom, he also undid the worn brass button on the top of his jeans, the mere inch of freedom not doing much for his acing arousal. He wanted her; to feel her around him, warm, wet and tight.
As instructed, when John arrived in the room, Y/n was sprawled on the bed face down, her hair shrouding her face. Taking a moment to drink her in for the absolute vision she was, he proceeded to make his way to one of his bags, set on the bare top of the sleek dresser, opening up the zipper- unless he was going in, John always kept that bag closed when he traveled. It was the bag that held his…...toys, for when he brought subs along. It was in fact a rare occurrence, to have one of his play things accompany him to trips; John rarely vacationed, and business trips hardly afforded the time for beautiful distractions. 
From the small suitcase, he produced some rope, the fibers not too coarse, rough enough to leave behind a few mementos and made especially for the purpose he’d intended. Doing a double take, John also snatched up a plain, black, silk blindfold, unintentionally, it matched Y/n’s lingerie perfectly, a ball gag that they were both readily familiar with, and their favorite safe word substitute; the little blue ball. Going over to the bed, John crooked one of his legs on the mattress as he sat, placing the armory within reach. “I want to tie you up today,” he hummed nonchalantly, bringing his hand to her ass, rubbing his palm in slow circles on her smooth skin, “It’s been awhile since we’ve done that. What do you think? Would you like that?” 
John’s hand momentarily slipped between her thighs, his thick, sturdy fingers brushing her clothed cunt, feeling how Y/n’s wetness had seeped through the fabric. Just the slightest touch was enough to have her moaning softly, his question falling out of memory as she tried to wiggle into his hand. Y/n could feel John’s eyes, his gaze warm each time it swept her scantily clad form, his digits now pressing into her clit through her black panties. Eliciting another depraved groan, she shifted on the perfectly made sheets, burying her face in the pillows.
When John raised his hand again, it was to spank her, hard and without warning, resulting in Y/n crying out half his surprise half in pain. Just as her skin reddened, he rubbed again, gently, warding off any bad bruising, “I asked you a question,” his urgent growl was near her ear and his hot breath blew some of her hair, “Would you like that? To be tied up and gagged so I can use this pretty pussy however I like.”
“Yes,” she choked out, desperate for more, “Please Sir, use me,” Y/n encouraged, “I’m yours.”
Smirking, John wasted not a moment more; peeling off Y/n’s panties and getting to work. The knots were tied with trained precision and insurmountable patience. Work like that wasn’t often done quickly; intricate patterns across her chest around her neck and binding Y/n’s hands behind her back in three places would certainly take time, each placement meant specifically to maximize her pleasure. It was meticulous work,  but it was no secret that John Wick was a patient, focused man, one who’d ensure that every detail was to his liking. 
After her chest and hands, were Y/n’s legs, which were comparably easier. In no time, he’d parted her legs, folding her calves over her thighs and binding them tightly, effectively rendering her physically powerless. With each knot, executed with expertise and tightened with experience, John felt himself slipping into the comfort and ease of being in total control. He knew every risk, had assessed them several times over and had worked out the solutions, he knew exactly what he was doing and John knew with absolute certainty that whatever happened next was totally up to him. Y/n was powerless, at his mercy and absolutely trusting of his judgement. She was his, and when all else failed, went wrong or awry, John knew that he could seek Y/n out to offer him what he sought most; control.
Satisfied that she was bound, John placed the ball in her hands, reminding her of how it was to be used before crawling off the bed to admire his handiwork. Y/n looked so perfect, the kind of perfect that was the thing of a pornographic film, the kind of perfect that he wanted to save the sight for a long time. That was when the idea struck him, and John walked around to the side of the bed, situating his lips over her ear, “You look gorgeous like this,” he pecked her cheek, “I want to take pictures of you,” sending shivers up her spine as he did, John caressed her neck, occasionally twirling silky locks around his fingers, “Nod if that’s okay.”
When she hesitated, John thought that she was going to signal no, by squeezing the little toy fitted in her palm, but eventually, Y/n appeased, nodding against the sheets. “Good,” he murmured, returning to the dresser, using a little remote to turn on the stereo before collecting a semi-professional camera. Setting the right mood after that was merely child’s play; closing the heavy curtains and dimming the lights a little before finding the perfect angle, where the camera would catch every salacious detail.
With heavy metal blasting through the speaker, masking any noise that would threaten the moment, John slowly worked his way through different angles. Every snap was more arrestingly vulgar than the last and his cock twitched eagerly, ready to be buried between her thighs, fucking her into oblivion. Being with her, dragging his hands along her body as her cunt squeezed his cock, hearing her strained noises and having Y/n it his whim, Y/n specifically, was unmatched. It was otherworldly, he’d even go as far as saying the power made him feel as if he were something of a god. 
“That’s it Kitten,” he praised lowly, “You’re so fucking sexy, and you’re all mine.” Through with the pictures, he made short work of getting completely disrobed, then climbing onto the bed, between her legs. Even in the low lighting, he could see the slickness gathered on her folds, the prurient view making him buck his hips. 
Without more warning that a hand on her waist,  he took her from behind, the blaring music shrouding his unmanned grunt. Y/n’s body shifted higher up into the bed as a consequence of his roughness and thoughtlessly, John grabbed a handful of her messy tresses, wrapping it around his fist, yanking her head back and planting his lips on her neck. His hulking frame was only restrained from crushing her by his free forearm sunken into the mattress as a brace. Beneath him, he could barely make out her muffled whines each time he thrust into her violently. 
Maintaining his volatile pace, John released her hair, only to hold her to him with his arm secured around her chest. As he ground against her, the fibers of the rope holding her hands against her back chafed his sweaty chest while the ones binding her legs rubbed against his thighs. She felt so fucking good too; warm wet walls closed in around him, accommodating him perfectly. And the way it felt when his balls slapped her cunt was utterly euphoric. It was always easily to lose himself during their scenes, nothing beyond the physical mattered and he knew exactly what her limits were; how much he could give and take without hurting her. Maybe he couldn’t understand what he felt when they weren’t naked and touching each other, but when they were; John was in a realm that he’d created. 
John could feel her tensing up as he fucked her with rabid intensity, holding back on her release until he permitted. “Come for me,” he growled into her ear, burying his face in the side of her head. The fruity smell of her shampoo tickled his senses, cementing her presence. Y/n was there, with him, all he’d have to do was persuade her to stay.
Her walls pulsated around his member, waves of hot, slick moisture rushing out to sticky their thighs and she struggled to scream, dribbling around her gag. Y/n’s juices leaked onto his already heated skin as she milked him, weaning John closer towards his own orgasm. 
It was hard to maintain control of his thrusts as his toes curled with the exultation accompanying his climax. It was like a lid had been blown off, in the most pleasurable way. Fighting to continue bucking his hips, John filled her up, spilling ribbons of cum as he stayed nestled deep inside. “Fuck,” he groaned, the husky solicitation drowned out by the edgy screaming from the speaker “You know how good it feels to cum inside you sweetheart?” The words were garbled and choked, though John knew Y/n would appreciate the sentiment, if she’d even heard them. He liked when she knew, it made her feel good, and he could tell.
Collapsing on top of her, his body far more relaxed than it had been when they’d been downstairs, John took a moment to gather his thoughts and catch his breath before pulling out and rolling off her, wincing ever so slightly as he did. The first thing he did after that was undo the straps of Y/n’s ball gag, followed by the silk blindfold that had formerly barred her vision. John would have had to be blind himself to miss the moisture from her eyes that had soaked through the fabric. “Are you okay?” Worry immediately plumed in his chest. Had the music been a bad idea? What if she’d squeezed the ball and he’d missed it in his selfish haste?  
Stopping before he continued with the ropes, John searched Y/n’s reddened eyes, cupping her cheek and using the pad of his thumb to brush away what appeared to be the final tear, “Talk to me babygirl. Did I hurt you?” She Y/n trusted him, and if he’d missed the signal, then John had just betrayed her; how could he expect her to stick around after that?
Trying to slow her heavy breaths, Y/n nuzzled his palm, licking her lips, and sighing soft before managing a breathless, faint smile, “No Sir, that was…….amazing.”
An immense sense of relief washed over him at her reassurance, and with a relieved chuckle, John leaned over to affectionately peck the top of her head, missing the way she closed her eyes contentedly at the simple gesture. “I’m glad to hear that,” he sighed, tucking some behind her ear, “You were very good today, I think we’ll have to get you something special when we get home. How does that sound?”
As he moved on to undoing the intricate knots, one by one, releasing her arms first and revealing angry red bruises where the rope had been tightest. He knew she was used to them by then, but when they left in a couple days, Y/n would have to wear a sweater. John was so consumed with the task that he’d barely noticed that she hadn’t answered him, already thinking of what he could get her. Y/n had never been hard to please outside of the bedroom, she was simple and John thought she could find the best in anything, and anyone. 
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he huffed, eventually shuffling off the bed, using some tissues from his nightstand to quickly clean up before pulling on a pair of sweats, “I’m going to run you a bath,” and catching the heaviness of her eyes before he disappeared into a bathroom, John warned sternly, “Don’t fall asleep yet.” Vaguely, he heard her mumble a simple ‘Yes Sir,’ in response, and it was in a tone so dazed that he knew better than to trust it, deciding to hurry up on getting the tub ready for her. He knew Y/n well enough that after intense sessions, she was subject to dozing off, too tired to do much for herself
All in all, it had taken about an hour to finish after care, though John never minded. It was his job to take care of Y/n and it was certainly one he enjoyed. Despite the time they’d taken with him helping her in the bath, it hadn’t felt that long before they were finally on the bed again, with the dirty covers pulled back. Armed with a brush, he situated her between his legs, gently combing through the wet tangles. From the very start, John could tell without her ever having to say it that she preferred when he brushed her hair dry, as opposed to using the dryer. He didn’t mind though, he’d cut out any amount of time just to do it if that was what Y/n wanted. 
That afternoon, like every other after they’d been together, she was quiet, opting to pick at a thread on her towel as he worked. Y/n’s silence was often welcome and he never wanted to push her into a conversation, but that evening, John knew that they had to talk. He’d put the matter off for too long anyway. “We need to talk,” he began.
“Huh?” She twisted to face him, eyes wide with curiosity and lips agape. She was gorgeous like that, so youthful and innocent, far unlike how corrupted and tainted he was.
“It’s about our contract, it ends in two weeks,” he licked his lips, unable to gauge her reaction, “I was thinking, if you’re still happy with our arrangement, we could go through with another year.”
Still, even with furrowed brows and pursed lips, John could barely tell how she felt, “You want me to stay?” She broached meekly, tilting her head, “And we’d be just like this, for another year?”
“Yes, unless there’s something you don’t like.” For some reason, his heart quickened. It was far different from the very first time he’d asked her to be his sub, when he’d taken her to dinner in Manhattan. Y/n hadn’t seemed too onboard with the idea back then either, but that evening, with his touch on the center of her back and the evidence of their time together staining the dark sheets, the stakes were higher. Back then, he just wanted her, but right now, he didn’t want to lose her. 
Averting her pensive gaze to the mahogany floor beyond the California king, Y/n’s voice shook slightly as she inquired, “Can I think about it?”
In an instant, taking him completely by surprise, John’s heart dropped to his stomach. Needless to say, that wasn’t the answer he was expecting, and really, all he could do was think that her indecision meant no. Still, he couldn’t pressure her, it wouldn't be fair, and all he could do was say; “Yeah, sure. Take your time.”
*****
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50 Wordless ways to say I love you.
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#11. telling them a dumb joke to see them smile.
Word Count: 1067
MASTERLIST SERIES MASTERLIST
It had been a long week, everybody’s stress level on set were sky high. You were getting down to last minute shooting, and everybody was tired and worn out. You were no expectation to this, you always worked yourself to hard, never taking time off. You had a lot to prove this time around, it was the first time you were getting to be a writer on a hit television show. You had helped write three episodes of a new television series called Outer Banks on Netflix. You had grown really close with that cast, spending a lot of time with them off set.
 You’d grown especially close with Drew, having a lot do with creating his character in the show. You guys had worked on a couple of other projects together before but never really got to know one another. The two of you got along so well, having a lot in common. The both of you were homebody and didn’t like to be the center of attention.
 Drew was an amazing actor, and really pushed your limits when it came to writing for his character. You spent a lot of time working with him and getting his input. That was your thing, you wanted the person playing the character to have as much say in things as you did. You always said, “the actor knows the emotion better than I do.” Which wasn’t a complete lie. Drew always seemed to know exactly how you wanted a scene executed even before you did.
 Being a female creator wasn’t always easy, and some of the other writers on the show gave you a hard time because you were so young. You didn’t have a lot of experience and Jonas took a huge leap of faith hiring you. You knew it, everyone knew it. This was going to make or break your career as a television writer.
 You were sitting in the small writer’s office, trying to finish off some dialogue for the last scene you wanted to shoot. You were making list of what was needed, and who would be in it. You had been messing around with different ideas for a couple of hours before you heard knock on the door, and see Drew come in. “I brought you something to drink. You’ve been in here all-day Y/N, what are you working on.” He asked passing you and earl grey tea (your go to drink). He took a seat behind you, drinking his own coffee.
 “I had an idea for a scene and I just wanted to get it down on paper before I forgot it.” You laughed, “thanks for the tea, this is the fuel intake I need.” You joked with him.
 Drew could tell you were stressed out. You had snapped at one of the camera guys earlier in the day trying to shoot scene with Chase and Rudy, which was out of character for you. You could assertive when you needed to be, but not out right mean.
 Out of everyone Drew knew how much this meant to you. You guys had talked about it a lot, and it was no secret that it was getting to your head. “Why don’t you take break for bit Y/N/N, we can go get something to eat. You need some vitamin D.” Drew said putting a hand on your shoulder, spinning you around in your chair. “No, I need to finish this, I’m almost done anyways.” That was lie, you were no where near finished, and it was getting overwhelming. Just thinking about what else you had to finish brought tears of frustration to your eyes. You spun back around, not wanting Drew to see you cry.
 “Knock knock.” Drew spoke up giggling to himself. Was he seriously trying to tell a joke right now? “Drew come on; I have work to finish.” You said trying to hide your anger. “Oh, just play along, knock knock.” He repeated himself.
 You sighed knowing he wouldn’t stop until you gave in. “Who’s there?” You asked, still looking at the computer. “Boo.” He said laughing to himself. “Boo who?” you said playing along. “Oh, don’t cry it’s just a joke!” he said almost keeling over laughing.
 You don’t know what came over you, but you started to cry. It wasn’t like you do cry in front of everyone. You saved these vulnerable moments for the shower when you were alone. Drew looked surprise; he didn’t know what to do. He had never seen you cry before. He thought the joke would make you laugh. “Oh shit, you weren’t supposed to start crying. I’m sorry.” He said, rubbing your back while you cried.
 “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m going to ruin this show, it’s a good show. I don’t have the experience for this. I’ve been winging it since day one and everyone knows it. And then I got made at Chris today for no reason, and everyone probably thinks I’m a bitch. I think I’m a bitch.” You said venting to him. Drew wrapped his arms around you pulling you into a bone crushing hug.
 “Hey shh, it’s okay.” You guys sat there while Drew whispered soft encouraging words to you. It was and intimacy you weren’t used to sharing with anyone. You were thankful it was Drew there and not someone else. You always had a thing for Drew but didn’t want to make things uncomfortable. You pulled away from his grasp looking at him.
 “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be crying right now. I don’t know where that came from.” You said wiping your eyes, trying to make things les awkward. “No need to apologize, we all have our moments. Are you okay now?” He asked wiping a few stray tears. “Yeah, I am, thanks.” You whispered.
 “Knock knock.” He said hoping you wouldn’t cry this time. “oh god, who’s there?” You replied laughing to yourself. “Tank.” “Tank who?” “You’re welcome! Get it? Tank you, thank you?” He said laughing at his own joke. You started to laugh. “Oh god Drew, those are awful jokes.”
 He knew that they were awful, but the made you laugh, and that’s a sound Drew could listen to forever. So, you guys spent the night telling each other terrible knock knock jokes and drinking your coffee.
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himbo-buckley · 4 years
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Intimacy, Sex and Buddie (better known as I have a lot of feelings about this show, some of which are related to the before mentioned topics) - Part 2
G’day friends, family and lost travelers! Welcome back to another instance of: I read too much into things!
This is where we really dive into the Character analysis and it’s gonna be a fun ride!!! (well, maybe. For me at least because thanks to 3.16 I am living! That episode validated me so much and now I truly believe I am right)
This is part two of a three part Meta / Character Analysis, and while you probably don’t need to read part 1, I would recommend it, so here is the link:
part 1
Also:
I should preface this by saying this meta was supposed to be a lot shorter and only talk about how both Buck and Eddie use sex to distract their respective partners from whatever topic they actually wanted to talk about but since I decided to rewatch the show to make sure I don’t miss any such scenes, it has exploded a bit and taken on more topics.
I should also mention that I am a Buddie shipper and while I tried, you will find several references and arguments for the ship in this Meta, not all of which necessarily call for a romantic pairing but just: These two are deeply connected and you cannot look at one without discussing the other and they are each other’s strongest emotional connection.
I should also preface this by saying that the whole of the 118 has some obvious intimacy / commitment issues except Bobby (which is sort of surprising) but *John Mulaney* voice we don’t have time to unpack all of that!
On another note I cuss a little in this Meta because my parents let me listen to TicTacToe as a small child and after that it never stuck that cussing is wrong so, uhm, parental supervision is advised or something?
This Meta will so far have three parts (this is part two), one for each season and is organised by episode so you could technically follow along
So here goes nothing, Season 2: (Also called „Why is Ryan naked so much?“)
Episode 2.01:
I’m not gonna talk a lot about this episode, because I feel like it’s been analysed to death already. Important to know is that Buck hasn’t yet given up on Abby coming back (see the shower scene), he is very lonely and there is a lot of homo- erotic tension.
Basically this episode goes like this:
Buck *after meeting Eddie*: nooooo, Dad, I don’t want a brother! He’s better than me! Put him back where he came from!
Eddie *takes one look at Buck*: Ui, you guys lied, he’s an ass - I like it! This is way better! We’re gonna be friends!
And then Buddie decides to something stupid to prove themselves (to each other) and they end up saving the day and bonding.
Also Eddie saying: „You guys hungry?“ after the Ambulance blows up? Iconic! He is such a little shit.
Episode 2.02 / 2.03:
(I’m putting them together because two-parter)
This episodes truly proves how hard they’ve already bonded, despite Buck not even knowing Eddie has a kid yet, especially from Eddie’s point of view: I actually think he started seeing Buck as his partner first. 
I love how he always takes charge, even in his first episode and expects Buck to go along with it - which Buck does (after some initial reluctance), because Buck is good at following orders and trusts Eddie. It might be an army thing, probably is an Eddie likes control thing. What is truly unique about Buddie, is the fact that Eddie defers to Buck’s judgement as needed, something he doesn’t do with anyone else, I think, unless the chain of command tells him to. Just look at how annoyed he is by Ali and her interfering.
That being said it really isn’t all to relevant for this meta, except to say: Interest- ing how fast they trusted each other and became a unit - I guess it’s true what they say: birds of a feather flock together.
Episode 2.04:
Here we get our first real insights into Eddie’s character (aside from that he is a little shit and likes to take charge) as well as some very nice shots of the man’s body, proving my theory that someone in charge really wants to get busy with Ryan Guzman. Which I am not exactly complaining about.
I do think however it’s a very noticable shift from the way they treat the other young, attractive guy in the cast. I talked about this a little in the first part of this Meta, how they went out of their way to hold Buck accountable and make him relatable, but refused to bank on his sex appeal, aside from a few scenes which mostly were about explaining why Abby reached out to him (and uh, we do not need to talk about how creepy that really was, do we?). Eddie though really gets sexualised from the get go. Or maybe that’s just me and I missed something? (Someone with more insight on such topics take the wheel? Because that really isn’t my area of expertice and I don’t wanna say anything false)
A main difference between Buck and Eddie at this point (or in general) is that Buck is always looking for connection. He craves emotional intimacy but it scares him because he cares too much and people keep leaving so he searches out physical intimacy - or he used to. Actually by Season 2 Buck is actively looking to connect emotionally with another person.
Eddie on the other hand isn’t even on the same level as Pilot!Buck, because he avoids both physical and emotional intimacy (except with Buck because, you know, steam engine). The episode implies that it might be caused by Shannon leaving, but the rest of Season 2 and specifically Season 3 show us that it’s an Eddie thing (likely caused by his upbringing if you fast forward to 3.15). And it really makes me want to know how Shannon and Eddie met and how long they had been dating before she got pregnant. Probably not that long tbh.
One thing to notice about the episode is that it parallels Eddie both with Buck (neither wants to date one of those girls, both deflect about their reasons) and with Abby - watch 1.03 and 2.04 back to back, both are about a character taking care of a special needs family member, both have another family member consider them stuck when they themselves do not and both feature Buck trying to help (passively by talking to Abby on the phone vs. actively by having Eddie and Carla meet)
Also as I pointed out in another post the conversation about dating is kind of similar to the car conversation, and I really am clowning now - which is why I will not try and parallel the conversation between Maddie and Buck with the one between Bobby and Buck in 1.09!
I still don’t fully understand the need for that scene (you know which one) aside from being another instance where the boys get sexualised and giving us our first insight into Eddie romantically and also the first time he uses Christopher as a shield (also not the last).
The general take away from the episode is that Eddie is bad at asking for help and Buck is bad at asking for permission which means they fit really well - because Eddie doesn’t have to voice his needs and Buck doesn’t have to feel bad about steamrolling him.
In terms of the overall theme of this meta your main takeaway from this episode should be:
Buck - no longer substituting physical intimacy for emotional intimacy but also not seeking out emotional intimacy, both because he has a connection through Maddie and is building one with Eddie but also because he still considers himself spoken for, though the episode ends with him realicing he might not be (and then he keeps realising, because he is one stubborn mf).
Eddie - avoiding both physical and emotional intimacy and using Christopher to deflect, mainly because he doesn’t have the time for either (but still getting a connection through Buck, thanks to someone just punching right through his boundaries)
Episode 2.05:
no relevance, our boys are barely in it
Episode 2.06:
Well, if you want to write about Buddie crumbs than yeah, definitely important. Also, you can draw a definite parallel between Abby and Taylor, because Buck knew both their voices before he saw their faces and built an emotional connection to those voices. This fits because, well, Buck is afraid of emotional intimacy, but when it’s just a voice it’s easier for him to let himself be vulnerable cause it’s not an actual person.
Plus, considering the thing with Taylor is one sided prior to their meeting, he isn’t actually cheating on Abby. Or so Buck thinks. (Also Taylor doesn’t have a chance to hurt Buck and leave him because you know, she is not aware he exists?)
Also Eddie talks about becoming a firefighter because he missed the camaraderie of the army - aka the emotional connection he had with his squadron (is that the right term?). So technically he did actively try and seek it out - to a point at least. Because, as I will discuss in Part 3, Eddie may consider the 118 his family but his relationship with the other three firefighters in not on the same level than the one he has with Buck.
Episode 2.07:
Let’s all give a warm welcome to Shannon Diaz! I like Shannon, I think she is great (I also think she and Eddie are similar because they both run away from problems which is why they would never work out - unlike another possible relationship mentioned sporadically in this Meta, hint hint ;) ... okay, moving on)
We learn that „not in the picture“ means Eddie is still married, which begs the question how much Eddie has told Carla and the 118 about Shannon up to this point (as little as possible), what they assume about her (probably the worst) and if Eddie ever sets the record straight (I’m assuming yes, because while Eddie doesn’t share - Eddie is also protective of his family and Shannon is his family for better or worse - I really wish they didn’t kill her off and instead played out the divorce storyline because there was so much chance for growth! Although that was probably too similar to Athena and Michael, which is why they didn’t do it. So they fridged her. Damn, and I am still salty about it.)
I really love when she comes to the house, because we learn so much about them as a couple. Like how her eyes grow warm when he opens the door but Eddie’s don’t but then he goes in to hug her (and you can really tell that Ryan Guzman is an athlete in the way that he always acts with his whole body and conveys so much through movement). And the fact that Shannon immediately pushes to meet Christopher (probably because with Eddie you need to push, because he is very stubborn and also in need of control), and her saying she never thought Eddie would be into something so fancy? Yet another insight into Eddie’s character and into his upbringing, which while probably not poor seems to have been fairly modest.
Also love how they fight almost right from the get go, implying that it is their normal (as proven in 3.15). They really never stood a chance!
There is a lot of backstory we get through their fighting, both at the house and at the school, most notably that even in marriage Eddie was never able to fully open up to Shannon - aka be emotionally intimate with her. Which made her feel very alone.
And I don’t wanna defend Shannon and her actions because other people have said it before and this is not what this Meta is about but I can see her point of view. With Eddie and the way he just always needs to be in control and make the decisions she probably thought she had to do something drastic to get him to notice her and her struggles.
Interestingly enough Eddie is emotionally vulnerable with Shannon at the end when he tells her that he understands why she left and that he misses her, but then he immediately kisses her and look, we don’t know what happens next  but we can guess from the latter episodes.
And look, tbh with Eddie it’s a little bit harder to draw the line between physical and emotional intimacy than with Buck because Eddie’s love language is touch and actions, so technically in a way he is always emotionally intimate when he is physically intimate (probably why he didn’t wanna go out with any of the girls in 2.04 - Eddie, different to Buck, can not just separate feelings from sex, while Buck has a hard time reconciling the two)
On Buck’s side of this Meta he finally comes to terms with Abby leaving, which doesn’t have too much relevance for this meta except there are a lot of parallels between Buddie in terms of: how long is too long to wait - because while Eddie pretends to have given up on Shannon, he actually hasn’t, whereas Buck outwardly is still waiting for Abby but on the inside has given up hope - something they both come to terms with in this episode
Episode 2.08:
Fun fact: The german title of this Episode is Lovestorys. Can you guess if there is anything of relevance in it?
Okay, first off for the millionth time, in case you haven’t read part 1 or you aren’t convinced yet or maybe you just forgot: Evan „Buck“ Buckley was never a sex addict. Kay? Good.
Also, remember when I said the show doesn’t sexualise Oliver the way it does Ryan? Yeah, this episode exactly. Buck has sex twice and we see less of his body than of Eddie just getting out of bed. Is it a contract thing? Was Ryan always running around naked on set? Did Oliver refuse to take his shirt off? Is he always cold because he’s vegan? Should I figure out Twitter just to ask the cast these questions?
(Also, remember when I said with Buck it’s mostly Girl on top, yay, it stays true)
In terms of actual relevant story, there’s that woman on the freeway (highway? Idk guys, I’m not from the US) reinforcing that Buck has finally accepted that Abby and him are over and then there’s the Taylor Kenny - story, which is sort of just beating the bush of sexual vs emotional intimacy with Buck trying for the latter and only finding the former (remember the Brunette from the Pilot? Yeah, that’s why I’m reminding you).
What I like is the fact that, after spending so much time calling out Buck 1.0 (and they should, because stealing a fire truck? Twice? Babe, for realsies?), this episode went: look, maybe girls like meaningless sex, too? Although, technically they have been telling us from the the beginning, that those girl were using Buck in the same way he was using them (again with the Brunette) - Buck just never understood that until Taylor.
We also get the soulmate scene with the very sweet couple, once again, rein- forcing how lonely Buck is and how much he is craving love and a connection and stability. That really is what his character boils down to at the end of the day: a lost kid trying to find his place in the world. And now I’m sad.
As for the Ali storyline, oh man, I’d really rather ignore it? Not because I have anything against the character per sey it’s just - we get to see their first meeting and then 5 episodes later their first date and by the end of the season they are in love love except by Season 3 she is gone? And in between she is hardly ever mentioned? So I really don’t know how to comment on their relationship in terms of this meta and what it means for Buck except: I think it was one of those right times right moment kind of things and Buck is sort of transfering a lot of his wishes and needs and feelings onto her, but their relationship has a weak foundation, which is why it ended so fast (except we don’t know how fast it ended because there is a 5 month gap between Season 2 and 3 and the breakup gets mentioned one (1) time. Soooooo...)
And Eddie, well, he was in the episode.
Episode 2.09:
I like this episode a lot and it tells us so much about Hen’s issues, but in terms of this meta: no relevance!
Sidenote: I do always forget they did Hen before they did Chim. Then again this episode in general feels very disconnected because there was no prompting, no connection to the present.
Episode 2.10:
Ah, yes, that one! The gift that keeps on giving in terms of Eddie and this meta (and also Buddie, but I’m trying not to be ship-y around here)
(One tiny sidenote though, I do think we see Eddie roll of off Shannon, and, while I don’t want to reinforce some stereotype about Top and Bottom, because I am not a gay man and therefore not qualified to comment, with Buck it’s generally girl on top? So Buck usually lets his partner set the pace while Eddie prefers to be the one in control? Okay, you know what, let’s just say it fits with their characters and maybe they match and leave it at that?)
(also, again with the Ryan shirtless, I mean, not that I am complaining, it’s just ... yeah, please, someone who knows this stuff come talk to me about it and explain because I don’t know and maybe I am seeing things?)
(sidenote #3 with actual relevance: They did not mention Buck’s girlfriend even once. They never do until the final.)
First of, this episode proofs what I said before: With Eddie there is no separating Sex and feelings. It is interconnected („We are working things out.“).
Also there is a point to be made about Eddie and control. So far we have always seen Eddie be the one in control and make decisions and this is our first real indicator that it actually bothers him, that maybe he wants someone else to tell him what’s right or wrong, too.
I’m gonna fast forward a bit, because we are nearly at the end of Season 3 irl and so far we have seen Eddie ask for help several times but only with two people - Buck and Lena - he actually takes the advice. I don’t want to say too much because it really fits better in Season 3, but wether you ship them or not, it is noticeable that out of everyone Buck is the one Eddie let’s help the most. The one he trusts the most.
(Man, they are both just two lost boys looking for their home, aren’t they? (and now I am sad again.))
There is also the topic of trust brought up, which you know, we hear about a few times from Eddie, and it really is such a big thing for him, isn’t it?
To fast forward again, that is one big difference between Eddie and Buck. Both struggle with self worth and trust but while Buck’s biggest problem is that he doesn’t trust people to like him, if they actually get to know him (or if they even want to get to know him), Eddie just plain old does not trust people? Because Eddie is a pessimist, so he doesn’t even try to connect, while Buckeroo trusts way too much and too easily and he is such an optimist and gives away everything and then he still isn’t enough - and then and only then does he give up hope (which is something we see happen in canon maybe twice? With Abby, maybe with Ali, and with Christopher, but again, Season 3 you guys!)
These two really are the different sides of the same coin, huh?
In relevance to this Meta, Eddie is trying very much this whole episode to be open and vulnerable and he struggles so much because he is very scared. The main issue with Eddie is always (and specifically with Shannon) by making himself vulnerable, he opens Christopher up to getting hurt as well (and vice versa because he can’t let Shannon into his son’s life without letting her into his own life) and this is what we see him struggle with in this episode and also what intensifies his already existing issues with intimacy throughout the show in general, his need to protect his son. 
It should be noted that in the end Eddie puts Christopher’s wishes above his own well-being which is in fact what he will always do because Christopher is the most important person in his life.
As for Buck in this episode, well, after having so much development in his last episode, he really was there more as a sounding board for other characters. However I will mention that, after the show points out the whole thing is none of his business twice, Eddie then turns around and makes the Shannon thing Buck’s business, because well, connected and all that. Trusting and giving up control. Emotional intimacy. Just repeating myself now.
Episode 2.11: No relevance.
Episode 2.12: No relevance.
Episode 2.13: No real relevance.
There is the scene in the hospital between Buck and Eddie that reinforces the peas in a pot thing they got going on and a reverse from the Christmas Episode when Eddie asked Buck about what he should do. Here Eddie acts as the sounding board (even though Buck has already done the thing but then so has Eddie by hiding Shannon).
This is also yet another instance of Buck trying to help another person with no regard for his own safety but I’m with Eddie here: I have sisters as well. I too would do countless stupid things to save them with no regard to my own safety and I’m a girl - I was not raised on the believe that is was my job to protect them from harm like both Buck and Eddie probably were (because gender rolls).
Also Buck thinks it’s his fault that Doug even found Maddie and Eddie explains to him why its bull. To reinforce the whole connection thing, it is very noticeable that these two always give each other exactly what the other needs - with Eddie from the get go always working on building up Buck’s self worth and Buck always lending a hand to Eddie and taking control when needed (remember Carla? That was Buck taking control for Eddie because Eddie didn’t know what to do).
There is also the short scene when Shannon comes to the hospital and it prob- ably did a lot to help rebuild Eddies trust in his wife.
Episode 2.14:
STOP MAKING EVAN BUCKLEY WORRY ABOUT HIS FAMILY 2k21 (because it’s too late for anything before that)
It’s also our first real: Eddie can be a dumbass, too sighting and there is that one scene (you know which one) which in text is not shippy at all, but ended up in every gifset because Oliver is looking at Ryan like he wants to eat him alive.
Aside from that, this episode really isn’t about them and that’s okay.
Episode 2.15: Crime is hard. That is all.
Episode 2.16: No relevance.
Episode 2.17:
First of all, Eddie is not shirtless? At the beach? Damn, what’s wrong, 911? Is it because Gavin was there? Have you used up all your contracted shirtless scenes by now? Did Ryan find out he was the only one running around set half naked?
Also poor Eddie, you know, you’d think getting married your done having those: what are we - conversations and then bam: there it is again. He really can’t catch a break, can he?
Also I know it’s been said before, but I’ll say it again: Eddie Diaz is not in love with Shannon. Maybe he has never been or maybe he just stopped at some point, but right then and there he isn’t in love with her. He does however love her deeply (she is after all the mother of his son) and she is his family which is sort of where the problem in their relationship lies. Because Eddie, who has problems with trust and intimacy, frankly doesn’t care enough about Shannon (and also doesn’t trust her enough) to try and be open and vulnerable with her, which is what he needs to be in order for them to work, a fact that Shannon seems to be aware of and have accepted.
(Because if you have to wait for a sign on what to do in your relationship, yeah, you already know - you’re just not accepting it.)
And this episode is so heartbreaking and I just had to stop myself from ugly crying because Shannon loves Christopher so very much. And I just hate that they killed her off, so in my mind I have already half plotted a fix it fic in which she survives because that was just unnecessary angst.
Though that’s the topic of another post.
In terms of the relationship-story I am similarly floored as I am by the „Help!“ scene because (at least for me) this is the first time I have seen media really address that yes, you can be a good parent and still not be ready for a serious relationship because those two things are very different. Sure, you sometimes see examples of it through subtext but never before has it been so outright stated.
And I like that both Shannon and Eddie ask themselves that question, but come to a different conclusion - or actually they don’t. Like I said above, for Eddie this relationship fits because it’s easy and he doesn’t have to change or better adapt. He can just keep avoiding the hard stuff (being vulnerable) and still have the good stuff (sex). And then Shannon might be pregnant again and look at his speech at the restaurant: He is basically saying our child is awesome, so we should get back together because if we make such awesome children than we can’t be that bad together. And that is so very wrong, which Shannon understands.
The problem is, that Eddie doesn’t fully understand why their marriage hasn’t worked in the first place. If you tie it into 3.15 Eddie Begins, I think for Eddie, the reason why Shannon left him was a little to get back at him for leaving her and a lot about feeling left alone and being unable to cope with raising their child alone, but all of that is gonna be different now because he will be there for her physically and emotionally as he is no longer in the army! So the issue is solved. They should be a family again. Even without a new kid. After all: they love each other.
And look, those are all fair reasons and true but the thing Eddie doesn’t understand about relationships in general and his marriage to Shannon in particular is that she also needs him to be emotionally vulnerable with her. Shannon needs Eddie to let her be there for him, just like he is trying to be there for her. Because relationships are always a two way street.
SO obviously this is where the episode ended. There were no more scenes af- ter that. Nope. Bit weird how it was so short but you do you, 911, you do you!
And well, Buck was there too.
Episode 2.18:
I’m just gonna come out and say it: Ramon and Helena are bad parents. Flying to your daughter-in-law’s funeral only to bad mouth her and then try to take your son’s son away again? Yeah, I do not like your style. I wonder how much of Eddie Begins was already planned at this point or if they built that plot about his family for 3.15 based on this episode. Huh. We might never know. (except Twitter)
Also me thinks Eddie choose LA because of Pepa and Abuela, not because of Shannon. She was probably just a bonus.
As for Buck (and Ali): the actors seem to have had fun doing those scenes? I guess? Other than that it’s a little cringy and very out of nowhere and probably more caused by the show having money left over and deciding to built a new set. ANd damn what a set. I wonder how Buck is supposed to be able to afford that because that apartment has probably about 50-75m2 considering there is a kitchen and a living room as well as a room behind the living room and probably an extra room in the upper floor as well (someone do a floorplan and also tell me why Buck needs so much space and wether they think I could move in with him. My apartment is not this nice and LA isn’t that long a commute).
Point being I don’t know why they brought Ali back in the first place, especially in this episode. She was never mentioned after their first date, so why? Just to give people something to discuss during hiatus?
There was no point to have those two incredibly lovey dovey scenes only to have that scenes about what he wants to do next because all those scenes? Would have worked just fine with, you know, his sister (except a little different because incest). Who actually has the what if you can’t go back to being a firefighter - scene with him. So why have a girlfriend you barely introduced and never used before? I’m not mad, 911, just confused! (Fuck me, I really am getting twitter)
As for the topic of this meta, there really isn’t much too tell. Ali honestly doesn’t figure into things except to create more abandonment issues.
I should point out that this episode reinforced the whole Buddie connection thing - from Eddie holding Buck’s hand the whole while he’s pinned to saying „Almost (back to normal)“ to Buck going to Eddie’s ceremony despite probably still being on somewhat of a bed rest.
Other than that, that’s it for Season 2. Whew!
Before I let ya’ll off the hook, though (look, you’ve read it this far, you can now just bear it a bit longer) I wanna comment real quick:
Compared to Season 1 Buck barely had any character development (mainly because he had so much in Season 1 and sometimes stuff like that needs to settle - real life would be the same way)
Eddie however has nearly no development at all and in fact as of Season 3, not a lot has changed in that regard. His issues just became more obvious. Which is something I actually like a lot, because one: he went through a lot of shit in a fairly short amount of time and two: he is such a stubborn and reserved character, anything else wouldn’t be in character and ultimately feel rushed. Plus, because this is his personality it’s feels like we’re actually getting to know him like you would a person in real life? Piece by piece, no unnecessary exposition. Or maybe that’s just me, I don’t really know anything about storytelling.
I also want to comment on Buddie real quick because it would be dishonest if I didn’t and also it’s just glaring me in the face:
The thing is, while I do not necessarily believe they have any intention of making them romantic (because I have been burned too often and just recently by a show that liked to praise itself for its diversity (so a heartfelt fuck you to Sera Gamble and who ever decided to kill off Quentin Coldwater, because that character mattered so much and you destroyed it)), I do think we are right when we talk about connection and parallels and being each others person and just generally being each others closest relationship. Because they parallel their stories so much and they connect them so often and they did do it from the get go like as early as Episode 4 - which was already written and probably already shot by the time Episode 1 aired. So there. I said it. Buddie is real, wether it’s platonic or romantic, it is real. And that also matters!
(although of course if they went with romantic? That would matter a bit more! Tim Minear, listen to me, you could make TV history! This would be bigger than Supergirl making the sister gay in the second season! Ya’ll would be legends, revered by fans for years to come! Also I’d bake you a cake?)
And there you have it! Season 2! We made it! And only like 2000 words more than Season 1.
Can you believe at this point I have written nearly 10.000 words on these two exceptional characters and their issues? And it’s technically only one issue, like I’m ignoring so much stuff just glaring at me right now!
(also on a side note, this is where I tag @angelcamael , who asked me to do so and @greyhello because she inspired me to write this meta in the first place and while it is now ... no longer about that original topic, I’m still gonna tag her)
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heauxplesslydevoted · 5 years
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All I Have Is Memories (M!Raleigh x MC)
Summary: Raleigh isn’t handling the breakup well.
Word Count: 3.4K+ Honestly two thousand words longer than I originally anticipated. I have no self control.
A/N: My crybaby ass was in shambles writing it, so I hope you enjoy the fruits of my labor. All italicized parts are flashbacks, and my MC’s name is Cassandra Paige
Tag List: @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @ramseyandrys @choicesobsessedd @a-i-n-a-a-s-h @furiouscloddonutpeanut @livedinawomansworld
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“So tell me again what I’m doing tonight,” Raleigh orders, putting on his sunglasses.
“Just a simple club appearance,” Raleigh’s manager Mason answers. “Luxe in Midtown is hosting a launch party for some model’s Ciroc collab. I think it’s one of the Hadids or some other nepotism model or another.”
“Ciroc?” Raleigh grimaces. “I don’t even like vodka, especially that cheap shit.”
“I don’t care what you do with the Ciroc. Drink it, pour it down the drain, use it to start a fire for all I care. It’s 75 thousand dollars for a few hours of your time and as much vodka your liver can handle, and you don’t even have to perform.”
Raleigh doesn’t give a reply. The rest of the car ride is filled with silence, for which Raleigh is grateful. He doesn’t want to talk, especially about work. He really wants to close his eyes and take a little cat nap.
He’s been on a run, doing pop up shows and club appearances almost every night for the past month and a half. Mason was loving it. Raleigh’s popularity had somehow skyrocketed even more after his “breakup” with Cassandra, and Mason Bentley was always one to strike while the iron was hot. And in the beginning, Raleigh didn’t mind either. He needed the distraction, he needed his mind to be on anything other than Cassandra freaking Paige.
He had been in multiple fake relationships. He knew they had a shelf life of 6 months at maximum before TPTB stepped in and put an end to everything, but he didn’t think it would happen with her. He thought she was different, he thought they were different.
What started out as something fake had quickly turned into something real. It was less paparazzi runs, and more kisses when the fans and cameras weren’t around, late night sleepovers, hookups in bathrooms and coat closets at big industry events, and tiny moments of intimacy such as hand holding, her tracing nonsensical patterns into his chest after sex, and staying up late at night, swapping childhood stories.
It’s been two months since their split, and it’s still as fresh as ever in his mind.
They’re sitting at an outside cafe not too far from Central Park, He’s eating a bagel and people watching when Cassandra finally speaks up.
“So we’ve been at this for a few months now.” she starts.  “And I think we’ve reached the end of the road with the fake relationship thing.”
Raleigh doesn’t say anything immediately. He honestly forgot the reason they were put together in the first place. He needed image rehab, and she needed publicity. “I think you and I stopped with the whole fake relationship thing a few months ago, Andy.”
“Yeah,” she agrees with a subtle nod.
She doesn’t speak again and Raleigh feels the hair on the back of his neck stand to attention. He sits up straighter and looks at Cassandra. He notes that she can’t look him in the eyes, opting to focus on her lap instead. “Cassandra, look at me. Just what are you trying to say?”
After a long while, she finally looks up at him. Her eyes are large and glossy, as if she’s on the verge of tears. “I think the real part of our relationship needs to come to an end too.”
In that moment it feels like all of the air has been pulled out of his lungs. Is he...being dumped?
“What?”
“If we’re ending things publicly, I think it’ll work out better if we severed everything,” Cassandra continues. “Things will be less messy.”
Raleigh’s jaw clenches. “Wow, did you just repeat verbatim some bullshit Fiona force fed you?”
“Raleigh-”
“What, I’m right, right? She’s putting you up to this?”
“Yes, but-”
“So don’t do it!”
“I’m not you, I can’t afford to blatantly disregard my manager and piss off the label. We can still be friends, but our arrangement snowballed into something different than what we intended.”
“But I don’t want to end this. I want you, I l-” He’s able to catch himself before he makes a bigger fool of himself, but it’s too late. They both know what he was about to say.
I love you.
Raleigh doesn’t have time to pivot and steer the conversation in a different direction because before he can open his mouth again, he spots a paparazzo taking pictures of them, barely hiding behind a bush. That’s when he gets angry. “Is that why we’re here? Why we’ve been in Central Park all fucking day, so these vultures can get a piece of the pie?”
He knows that this is how these types of things work. Things have to end with a bang, not a fizzle, but he doesn’t give a fuck. That was before. Before he actually gave a damn about the other person, before he actually felt something.
He composes himself though, closing his eyes. He isn’t going to give the tabloids the satisfaction of getting raw footage of Raleigh Carrera having a complete meltdown in public. “I thought you were different, you know. I thought you weren’t like the rest of these fake industry people.”
“I’m not!” Cassandra argues.
“I thought we had something real.”
“We do, we did. But I can’t just-”
“Whatever,” Raleigh interjects. He stands abruptly. “And for the record, no we can absolutely not still be friends after this.”
Raleigh is thankfully pulled out of his thoughts before he has to relive any more of that tragic day. He hates thinking about it, he hates being that vulnerable.
The limo he’s riding in comes to a screeching halt in front of Luxe, and he hops out, Mason not too far behind. They’ve gone all out for this party. Red carpet, tons of celebrities (though he’s clearly the biggest name there), and lots of press. Paparazzi is yelling, calling out his name, reporters are practically shoving each other in order to get closer to him, hoping to be the lucky SOB that gets to interview him.
Mason points Raleigh in the direction of a reporter from Charttopper. Raleigh plasters on his best industry smile and heads over.
“Raleigh, hi. Janet Carmichael from Charttopper News, thank you stopping to chat!”
“Oh, thank you for having me, Janet.”
“Can I just say that you are killing it right now!”
“Thank you.”
“Seriously, I mean. The start of your victory lap was your latest single, a sultry collab with fellow R&B crooner Bryson Tiller called Wrong. It’s been out for three weeks and it’s already gone platinum. How does it feel?”
“It feels great,” Raleigh says. “I’ve been in this industry since I was a kid, I’m just glad the people still enjoy my work.”
“That’s a complete understatement, we more than love it.”
“I’m glad.”
“Now tell me, the song is about a man expressing some angst and guilt over a relationship gone wrong.” Raleigh tenses. He already knows where this lady is going to go with her line of questioning. “You recently went through a breakup, with up and coming pop sensation, Cassandra Paige.”
“Yeah.”
“Was she the inspiration behind the ballad?”
“No,” Raleigh replies. “I had been working on that song long before Andy and I broke up.”
And that’s the truth. The song had been in the making for months. In fact, Cassandra sat in on a few of his sessions.
“You want to have a fake snowball fight with all of these pieces of paper,” Raleigh suggests, tossing a crumpled piece at Cassandra. She quickly bats it away before it can hit her forehead.
“You’re supposed to be writing, mister,” Cassandra teases with an eye roll.
“But I have writer's block.” The two of them have been locked up in the studio for hours, crumpled pieces of paper strewn about, Raleigh’s guitar haphazardly dangling from the back of a chair. He had sent the rest of his team—sound engineer, mixers, and producer—away a long time ago. “Nothing sounds right, and the label is being annoying, pressuring me. Raleigh Carrera doesn’t do well under pressure. Raleigh Carrera needs time and space.”
“You are such a dork.”
“Just don’t tell anyone,” Raleigh shoots back with a smirk.
“Your secret is safe with me.” Cassandra sits back on the comfortable sleeper sectional that takes up a lot of the studio space. “Come here, come sit with me.”
“Andy”
“I’m not taking no for an answer. Come sit.”
Raleigh obliges and sits next to Cassandra. She pulls him back further so his back is on her chest and she nuzzles her face into his neck, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders.
“What are we doing?” Raleigh asks.
“I’m hugging you,” Cassandra says simply. “Hugging is good for you, it lowers anxiety and stress levels. You were on the verge of spiraling.”
“You know how it is, releasing a buzz single to get hype for an album. They want something deep, something sad. Something that’ll make Toni Braxton’s music look cheery.”
“Yikes. Why so glum?”
“It’s a niche market that’s currently untapped. People miss the heartbreak of 90s R&B. The crying, the begging, the dramatic music videos. They need me to fill that void. They’re all but demanding it. I don’t work well with demands.”
“I know it’s easier said than done, but you need to relax.” Raleigh snorts at the suggestion. “I’m serious. Music can not be forced, it has to be felt. It has to flow.”
“Sometimes I wish I didn’t write my own music. It’d be easier to have someone else do it and then head straight to the booth.”
“Let’s see if I can help you. Tell me what comes to mind when I say these words. Heartbreak?”
“Crush.”
“Loss?”
“Gain.”
“Pain?”
“Hurt.” 
“Okay, so give me some bars,” Cassandra demands.
“What?”
“You heard me. Don’t think about it, just go. Start singing.”
“I can’t just—” Cassandra cuts Raleigh off by flicking his ear. “Hey! What was that for?”
Cassandra flicks his ear again. “You better get to singin’!”
Raleigh ponders the words. “I gave you my heart, all you did was give me pain. You played me like a fool, look at this mess you’ve made. I’m stuck with all of the memories, heartbreak’s my only gain. Caught in your web of love, I feel so ashamed.”
Cassandra smiles. “Look at you!”
“It still needs some fine tuning.”
“Yeah, but it sounds like you’re on your way to a bridge. It’s more than you had 10 minutes ago.”
“How are you so optimistic all the time?”
“I just am.”
Raleigh bends down to kiss Cassandra’s arm. “Thank you.”
“No problem.”
He turns around and lifts himself up so he’s hovering over Cassandra. “I feel like I should repay you in some way.”
“Mmmm, I’m pretty sure you can think of something,” Cassandra runs her hands through Raleigh’s hair. “I accept payment in the form of kisses.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Miss Paige, but I think I can manage.” Cassandra tilts her head up and presses her lips against his in a soft kiss that he instantly heats up. 
Raleigh manages to flip them around so Cassandra is straddling him without breaking the kiss. If he wasn’t so wrapped up in what he was doing, he’d boast about it, but he’s too focused on the task at hand. His hands dig into the soft flesh of her thighs and he’s sure there will be marks there come morning time. Good. He wants her marked as his
He sits up, his back against the arm of the couch, pulling Cassandra in closer to him. His lips travel, planting kisses on her neck and collarbone, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His hands find the hem on the shirt she’s wearing and he tugs it up, yanking it off of her body. His hands roam her skin appreciatively. She’s soft, so soft it should be illegal. It was unfair for one person to be so perfect.
“Sh-shouldn’t we be working on your song?”
Raleigh quickly finds the class of her bra and he unhooks it expertly. “The song can wait, I have better things to do.”
“Aw, you have a nickname for her,” Janet coos. 
“Huh?”
“Cassandra. You call her Andy.”
Raleigh mentally curses himself for letting it slip out. Everyone else refers to the singer as Cassandra or Cassie, but not him. She was his Andy. She’d joke that if she was Andy, he was her Woody. He’s mad at himself for exposing their private, intimate thing to the world. He just shrugs it off. “Oh. Yeah.”
“Speaking of Cassandra, have you spoken to her since the breakup?”
“No, I haven’t seen her, I haven’t spoken to her. But she’s killing it out here, and I’ll always be supportive of her and her career. Always.”
Raleigh can tell it wasn’t the soundbite she was expecting, and he has to hold back his smirk. He’d never trash her publicly, despite the messy media outlets and overzealous fans stoking the flames.
“Well thank you so much for stopping to talk to me. Enjoy the party!”
Raleigh doesn’t even respond. He just shuffles through the throngs of people until he’s inside the club. It’s packed and he can barely hear himself think. Before he can register what’s going on, someone is ushering him into a secluded VIP area, and handing him a drink, which he happily accepts.
A few hours go by, and Raleigh has never been more grateful for the passage of time. He’s no longer contractually obligated to be there and he can finally leave. All night long people are coming up to him left and right, posing for pictures, offering to get him food and drinks.
And the women are relentless with their flirting. Everyone wants a piece of him, and they make no qualms about it. Between the half naked bottle girls constantly circling the section and the fellow VIP party goers clinging onto him in hopes that they’ll be the lucky girl that he takes home, it’s overwhelming. 
He never thought the day would come where he’s actually tired of clubbing, but it’s here. He’d rather be anywhere else. The only bright spot was the alcohol.
He stumbles into his Tribeca apartment a little after 1AM. He doesn’t even bother changing his clothes, he just collapses face first into his comforter.
His phone starts buzzing in his pocket and he groans. After pulling it out, he sees it’s just a Google Alert for an article about him. 
‘Exclusive: Raleigh Carrera Opens Up About Singer Ex-Girlfriend for First Time Since Split!’
Underneath the title of the article is a picture of him and Cassandra together. She’s sitting on his lap and he’s whispering in her ear. Her head is thrown back and she’s laughing hysterically at whatever he’s saying. He can’t remember. The important thing is that he made her laugh.
Seeing that picture of them makes his heart thud wildly in his chest. He’d done a good job of blocking her out, for the most part. Skipping her songs on playlists because he wasn’t ready to hear her voice again, muting all of her social media account but never unfollowing or blocking her. He’s caught in a weird limbo of not wanting to see her and not wanting to let her go.
Before his heart or brain can object, his fingers are dialing her number. He knows the 10 digit sequence by heart.
After a few rings, the line in picked up. “Hello?”
“Cassandra?”
“Raleigh?” Her voice is deep, and Raleigh can surmise that she was asleep when he called.
“I’m sorry, did I wake you up? I didn’t even trip off of the time.”
“I was just up. I was catching up on all of the recorded shows taking up space on my DVR and I must’ve dozed.”
“If you were sleeping, don’t let me hold you up.”
“Is everything okay?”
What a loaded question.
“I don’t know, I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“What was streaming my songs not good enough?” He can tell that she’s teasing, her tone light.
“Nothing is better than the real deal, baby.”
“Well, since I’m on the phone, we might as well talk. How have you been? I heard your new single. It’s the one—”
“The one you forced me to start?” Raleigh finishes with a smirk. “Yeah.”
“I think I deserve a writing credit. I played a pivotal role in that song’s conception.”
“I’ll have my people call your people.”
“But seriously, you’ve been working like crazy. Good for you.”
“I hate it,” Raleigh confesses quietly. “I’m exhausted, completely burnt out. It feels like I’m running a race, but the finish line keeps getting pushed back. Or like I’m a hamster on a wheel.”
“Why don’t you stop?”
“Because I’m running from you.”
“Me?”
“I needed to stay busy. I needed to have always have something to look towards, because if I’d stop, I’d think of you. And I’d break.”
The line goes silent for a long time and Raleigh gets nervous. Did he say too much?
“So, what made you decide to call?”
“Because you’re all I can think about. You’ve consumed my thoughts all day, good, bad and in between. I was at the hottest event of the week and all I wanted to do was be with you. I wanted to be at your apartment, curled up in your blankets, binge watching It’s Always Sunny reruns.” Raleigh feels a lump form in his throat and he awkwardly coughs. “And how I wanted to smell the perfume of yours that I’m so obsessed with. And run my fingers through your pink hair. And you’d correct me and say it’s not pink, it’s rose gold, and I’d call it pink again just to annoy you.”
“It’s kinda sad. My latest single has received critical acclaim, it’s already certified, I’m getting early Grammy buzz. I just bought my parents the house of their dreams in San Juan, I made $75 thousand dollars tonight for a stupid appearance. Hell, I’m calling you from my multi-million dollar Tribeca condo, and I should be ecstatic. Raleigh Carrera is on top of the fucking world right now, and I hate to sound ungrateful, but I can’t bring myself to feel joy about any of it. I feel like my insides aren’t connected to my outsides, and my insides are just hollow. This celebrity shit is draining me. The appearances, the interviews, the fake relationships and feuds, all of it. Like I said before, I’m tired. And I just...really fucking miss you, Andy. You were the only real thing I had in this crowd of bullshit, the only person I cared about out here. I’m sorry for rambling, I’m kind of tipsy right now.”
“Oh god, are you going to wake up tomorrow and regret this entire conversation?”
“Of course not,” he says earnestly. “A drunk mind speaks sober thoughts, and all that jazz.”
“This hasn’t been the easiest for me either,” Cassandra admits, her voice shaking slightly. Raleigh frowns at the thought of her crying on the other end of the phone. “I really miss you too.”
“I’m glad I’m not the only one struggling.” And he means it. Knowing she felt even slightly similar to him made all the difference.
“Not in the slightest.”
“So what do we do? Are we going to be slaves to our shitty contracts for the rest of our lives?” Raleigh asks rhetorically.
“I don’t know.”
“Yeah, I don’t know either.”
They sit in silence for a long time, not knowing what to say, but not wanting to the conversation to end either. They just listen to the sound of each other’s deep breathing.
“Hey, Cassandra?”
“Yes?”
“I’m really sleepy.”
Raleigh hears her giggle on the other line and his stomach flips. God, he’s missed that sound. “Go to sleep, superstar. It’s really late.”
“No,” he says stubbornly. “I want to keep hearing your voice. Stay on until I fall asleep.”
“And talk about what?”
“I don’t care. Whatever you want to talk about.”
Cassandra humors his request and launches into a mini rant about a fitting for some award show she’s scheduled to present at. She and Zadie aren’t seeing eye to eye on what she should wear at all, and they were in a stalemate.
He tries to keep up with her, interjecting with commentary and now and again, but after a few minutes, he stops responding all together.
“Raleigh?” She prods. “Raleigh are you sleeping?” He doesn’t say anything but she hears him breathing softly on the other line. He’s out like a light. “I love you too, Raleigh.”
And with that, she hangs up.
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kootenaygoon · 4 years
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So,
Natalya did a disturbing amount of coke for an elementary school teacher.
During our first few rendezvous at her house in Rosemont, I gratefully accepted a line or two just to be polite. Coming down from Shambhala I was feeling extra vulnerable, mental health-wise, and I was trying to transition away from drugs. CrossFit and cannabis, that was the way. When I was being most honest with myself, I knew that I objected to my own behaviour. I knew that it would cost me in more ways than one and besides, I didn’t have the cash to spend on blow if I was barely making rent. But if Natalya was offering it for free, then I was incapable of saying no.
Upon arriving at her house, which was surprisingly palatial for the area, the porn-like fantasy that I’d envisioned back in the Power By You parking lot never materialized. We worked our way through the typical machinations of sex in her ultra-tidy bedroom, and obviously that was better than not having it, but at the same time I found myself blinking in and out of the moment. Why am I doing this? I asked myself, gazing down at her enthusiastically writhing body. What is this even accomplishing? As ego-stroking as it was, it simply wasn’t a replacement for intimacy with someone I actually loved. As I fucked Natalya silly, I felt like I was going to cry.
Afterwards, I stood on her porch smoking a joint while she pranced around the living room nude. I found her little landing strip adorable. She was obviously a regular at Power by You, because her body looked like it was sculpted out of soapstone. She was 15 years older than me, but could’ve easily passed for late 30s. I wondered where she got all her cash from.
“So you didn’t like Shambhala so much this year?” she asked, leaning in the doorway. Her chest was still glistening with sweat.
“It’s not that I didn’t like it. I’ve never experienced anything like it before. It’s like I’m still processing weeks later here. I saw some disturbing shit, heard some crazy stories. I don’t know what to think.”
“Yeah, I stopped going a few years ago. It’s not my scene anymore.”
“Why?”
“It’s just a grody scene. These fucking drug dealers with armies of little enablers. I know like five chicks off the top of my head who were raped at Shambhala. Most of them were drugged.”
I blinked. My throat began to throb. “Did anything ever happen to you?”
She smiled. “Why, you going to be my white knight?”
I took a long drag on the joint.
“No, I haven’t ever been raped. I could beat the shit out of any guy who wanted to fuck with me. But being a women in the Kootenays is a fucking nightmare most of the time. Everyone’s all leering and polyamorous, having orgies and swapping partners. It’s a whole thing.”
I shook my head. “When I was a teenager, I made a pledge to Jesus that I would never have premarital sex, that I was going to save myself for marriage. I was a virgin until I was 22. Then I hit Nelson and everybody’s fucking everybody else and I’m just trying to sort out my relationship with my own promiscuity, you know? Like I just hate myself all the time.”
She snorted, leaned against my chest and reached her arms around me. I liked how small she was. “I gave you too much coke, obviously.”
“I don’t really do coke,” I said.
She laughed, looked at me like I was a floppy puppy in her arms. “You’re cute. In some ways you’re worldly, but in other ways you’re this outrageous innocent. It’s clear you were sheltered.”
“Why, because I’m upset about rape? Everybody gets upset about rape. What am I supposed to say?”
“Don’t get so defensive. I didn’t mean to patronize you. It’s just refreshing to find somebody who doesn’t come pre-soiled by the Kootenays. I saw it at that race summit at the youth centre, you just foolishly charge into situations and try to solve everything by yourself. You think you’re Superman.”
“Well, the thing I always get accused of is having a saviour complex.”
She laughed. “You think you’re Jesus Christ, the Risen Messiah?”
I shook my head. “No, but I believe I can save people. I believe that’s the reason I’m here, on this planet. When I was a kid I wanted to be a youth pastor. I wanted to be a missionary. When I lost my faith in 2005 I didn’t lose my predilection for trying to convert people, to rescue them from darkness.”
Natalya looked delighted at what she was hearing. I felt like I was a rambling goon. I was still flustered by the rape subject, the whole Shambhala thing, so I brought it up again. I asked what else she knew about it, if she knew about anything that was going on locally in Nelson.
“Oh, my ex is a bouncer in Nelson. The stories he could tell you would blow your mind. These fuckers basically have an underage prostitution ring going, all these girls hooked on drugs and not even out of high school.”
“I don’t believe that,” I said.
“Believe it or don’t. He’s the one dealing with them on a street level. He came home one time and he just started crying, sitting on the bed, with his head in his hands. He thinks about our kids. I hadn’t seen him cry for years.”
I chewed on my cheek. I’d been giving some thought to the question lately of whether I was a fake feminist or not. I saw this Jezebel article slamming Joss Whedon because he was shitty to his wife, regardless of how awesome Buffy is. There was lots of talk about sexual violence online, with Trump and Clinton sparring over their respective soiled pasts. I’d always considered myself a feminist, but suddenly that felt charged with a new urgency. It felt like we were under fucking attack. Trump, man. Trump was coming.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I said, as Natalya lowered me to the carpet. My arms were seizing and my eyes were bulging. I felt like Tony Soprano, having a panic attack. My face burned. “Sorry, fuck.”
A few moments later she got me calmed down, and I got dressed. She asked if I was okay to drive, and I assured her I was. Tomorrow was production day at the Star, and we had a new editor who would need a helping hand. For the past few weeks I’d been coasting, half-assing my assignments and writing repeat iterations of stories I’d written the year before. Natalya apologized over and over again for the coke, but I told her it was no big deal. I was fine. As I walked down the driveway, I spotted Andrew Stevenson silhouetted on the hood of my RAV. In my head I heard the words Natalya had told me, echoing, and wondered how much of that could be accurate. This was such a pristine-looking, magical place full of beautiful people. Could it also be hosting monsters at the same time? Monsters who were hanging out in plain sight? I rubbed my nose, which still burned from the coke, and faced Andrew. He looked like he knew exactly what I was going to say.
“We’re going to hunt some rapists.”
The Kootenay Goon
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fablewoven · 5 years
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Kassidy Verse Drabble
“Do you ever wonder if it’s you?”
Of course she wondered if it was her, but when the question was asked by your ex-boyfriend, it was harder to take seriously. Especially when the conversation hadn’t originally involved him. Some days, being friends with her ex was hard...other days it was easy. The friend group had had to adjust to the buildup and the fallout, and so had the two of them, but today was a little harder. It had been easier for Rhys than it had been for Kassidy to warm back up to being friends, but out of the two of them she had been more emotionally invested in their relationship so this question stung a bit.
“I’m going to regret asking but: why do you think it’s me?” Kassidy asked, too curious about his answer to keep her mouth shut.
Giving a little shrug, he looked at her. “Because you have a really bad habit of going after emotionally unavailable men and getting too attached too fast.”
The problem with that answer, was that Kassidy couldn’t even argue that he was wrong. Twice, she’d been in relationships that weren’t defined, and the one that actually had been labeled, had been with Rhys, who was never emotionally available, even during sex. She felt a pang in her chest as she thought about it, still feeling like it was a sore subject. It hurt to admit that the only guy she’d ever slept with wasn’t even that into her, and the guy she actually wanted to sleep with now, wasn’t even sure what it was he wanted.
When she was 16, Aaron, her first boyfriend, hadn’t even really been her boyfriend. He just liked hanging out with her, and holding her hand and leaning his head on her at lunch. Labels weren’t his thing, he just wanted the comfort, but when kissing entered the equation and he still didn’t want to pull the trigger on the relationship, Kassidy walked. A year later, she and her friend Caleb had a similar relationship. By that point she had been ready to finally get to make out and grope a bit like all her friends were doing, but it had for some reason made her feel so guilty, not even being able to call him her boyfriend. He was always busy too, so it was always on his time table, and eventually the guilt won and Kassidy couldn’t do it anymore.
Through all of it, Rhys had been that acquaintance of their good friend, Miles, who introduced them in the first place. At that point, Kassidy was pretty over guys and wanted to focus on her classes and her extra curriculars, and Rhys had a new girl every few months. She convinced herself that he wasn’t her type, but then college happened and she published her first book and something changed. He was nicer to her, and she was too naive to realize it was just to get sex, and he did what the others didn’t: he asked for a label.
“What was your excuse, anyway? Aaron and Caleb were my own fault--I’ve come to terms with that already--but you asked me, remember? Yeah, I moved way too fast with Teddy, and I shouldn’t have jumped the gun like that, but there’s a tiny childish part of me that wants to blame you. You starved me of affectionate intimacy and made me feel like shit, and he gave me all of it before anything even started with whatever we almost were.” Kassidy admitted to him.
Rhys nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I did want to define it. I knew you because we were friends, and I knew that any form of sexual intimacy would be unattainable unless I made a gesture of commitment. High level of douchebaggery, I know, but it’s not like I hated you, Kass. I still care, I just didn’t want the responsibility of catching stronger feelings than mild affection. I liked our banter, and I liked that you were a little jealous of my ex that month before I asked. Men like feeling wanted too, you know? Also, you knew me too, before you agreed to being my girlfriend. You knew I kept people at arm’s length and you still ran headfirst into it thinking I’d change for you, even though we both knew you hated to be that girl. You still became her.”
“Yeah, because the hopeless romantic in me thought that being friends meant you respected me,” Kassidy responded, hearing the resentment in her voice, but he was right: she had become that girl that she hated, that thought she was the exception to his rules. She’d set herself up for this disappointment, and it hurt.
“I did respect you. We only ever had sex on your time table, and the biggest issue you ever had was me not sticking around to cuddle. I barely liked cuddling during movie nights with our friends, but there had to be a compromise,” Rhys reminded her, which only made Kassidy feel that pang return, a lump in her throat forming as well.
Sighing, Kassidy shrugged her shoulders. “Forgive me for thinking at first that something nice would come from losing my virginity to a guy I trusted. You’ve really set the bar, Rhys.”
She could still vividly remember how that night had almost ended things before they had really begun. How he’d acted like he was fine with her nervousness and faked being sweet, because then he’d reacted to her quite negatively when they had to stop when it hurt. The mood got killed, but he toughed it out for her and she thought it would all be fine, until he got off and she didn’t, and he left ten minutes after, leaving her with a mess to clean up, and crying her eyes out for a few hours because she felt vulnerable and inadequate. They barely texted, didn’t see each other for a week after, and then he pretended like the whole mishap hadn’t happened, making her feel the need to bury it deep down and just act like she was perfectly fine until they got a rhythm down and things started being mostly pleasant for her.
A feeling that always got ruined when he would never stay after, and she realized he’d already gotten the ‘prize’ of her virginity and it was just sex for him and nothing more.
“Some guy will come along and make it all better for you, but until then, you’ve gotta stop blaming the rest of us. You’re the one picking these guys to let in that can’t commit 100% to you. You even know it going in, and you still think some miraculous thing is going to change the odds, and it doesn’t. I’m not saying I wasn’t an ass,” Rhys said quickly, Kassidy glaring at him. “I was, okay? I was an ass. I’m only saying that you figure out what you want and who you want it with, and you put blinders on. You act impulsively, and then have a breakdown about it later. You forget: I know you. I know how much time you spent upset after I left sometimes. Yeah, I could have tried to make you feel better, but I figured you were a big enough girl to handle your own feelings. I apologized for the tear I gave you that first time, and I only ever initiated things when you were in the mood for it and sending me the signals. Besides, it wasn’t bad sex--you were just the one who was more emotionally attached to what it meant rather than what it was. I never stayed because I knew it wasn't going to last and I didn't want you to get that deep in it.”
Justifying his actions of being emotionally closed off about something she viewed as so intimate, made her want to punch him in the face, but it also made her sad. Mostly because, he wasn’t wrong...not really. She was an emotional person, who used her writing as an outlet and did go after what she wanted, the consequences be damned, and she was doing it again. Dwelling on something that was beyond her control, pining for something that hadn’t even really become a thing. She’d just latched on and told herself it was something great, and it was really just an ‘almost’ that might never take full hold. Still, it bothered her that he was acting like he'd been cold for her benefit, when it was really to help him justify his crappy behavior.
“It is complete bullshit that you're sitting here right now telling me you were a douchebag so I wouldn't catch feelings. I already had the fucking feelings, Rhys, you just didn't. You needed a reason to not feel guilty that you were using me in between sex buddies, but… at least you’re saying I wasn’t bad in bed,” she decided to say, realizing she really didn’t want to discuss Teddy with him, nor really get into this what happened between them had happened, and she had tried her best to ignore it so they could all be friends again. Not only that, but where Teddy was concerned, it was not her place to explain a thing and she didn't want his opinion on the subject because it didn't matter. “I’ve been lowkey worried I was bad in bed and that’s why you always got dressed so fast.”
Rhys shook his head. “I just don’t like cuddling after, it has nothing to do with your performance. If anything, I just didn't want to risk a chance of feeling any guilt. You’re not the only woman I’ve run out on after the deed was done.”
“I don’t know why that makes me feel better, but it does,” Kassidy admitted, taking a breath and then nodding. “I guess it is me.”
“You’re never gonna find the right guy if you keep the blinders up,” he explained, giving her a little smile. “Just...stop letting guys walk all over you, and stop expecting to get 100% when you know they can only give you less than that. That’s how you end up here, pining over someone that showed interest, but isn’t ready or sure or whatever his problem is. Interest only means so much, and you can’t bank intimacy on it. Now...I wanna do some PVP instead of dwell on feelings. Are you up for it?”
“I’d rather do the Halo Campaign again, but yeah, I’ll honestly do anything else to not have to talk about this with you anymore.”
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