#at that point of obsession where every song makes me think of them
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I saw the world crashing all around your face
#Crowley really does stop the world for Aziraphale in that moment#at that point of obsession where every song makes me think of them#good omens#goodomensedit#crowley#aziraphale#i'll melt with you#modern english#aziraphale and crowley#good omens 2#aziracrow#aziraphel#ineffable#ineffable husbands#ineffable idiots#ineffable spouses#nikkirookgif
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hiii can u pls write headcanons for thanos x fem reader in and out of the games? ty and have a good day ❤️
boyfriend thanos.
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warnings … might be typos idk
lovely notes … i can finally have an authors note like an ao3 writer… sorry this took so long i got into a relationship, took finals, and had to put my dog down
꩜ [ 673 words ]
IN THE GAMES
thanos / player 380 would protect you with his entire life. he doesn’t want you to be in the games in the first place, so he’s gonna guard you with his all.
he’s so protective and jealous that it borders on the line of toxicity. it definitely concerns the other players how possessive he gets over you.
he runs to your defense without a second thought. if a player dares to cross you, he’d be at their throat in an instant.
“what the fuck did you just say?” “su-bong, leave it alone.”
you never leave his side, like ever. if you’re in a game, voting, or just minding your business before lights out, his hand is practically glued to your waist.
he’s very large on pda, very large. it’s like his hand is magnetized to every part of your body. his hand is on your waist, lower back, thigh, or nape, or his fingers might just be interlocked with yours.
hates for you to call him thanos. it makes it sound like you’re just another random person to him and not his significant other. call him by his name, a nickname, or and pet name and he’s a goner.
he doesn’t want the other players to know the full extent of your relationship. while he wants them to know that you’re together, he doesn’t want them to be aware of how deep his love runs for you.
would actually lose his mind if anyone were to do as much as breath in your direction. he knows people in the games can’t be trusted and he knows that you know. yet, he can’t help himself but want to shield you from all of them.
gives you his food because he doesn’t want it. even if he had the appetite to eat, he’d still give you the majority of his meal.
“i’m not hungry.” “did i ask? now cmon, have mine.”
he stares at you when he thinks that no one else is watching. he adores you heavily, and he can’t do anything but helplessly glance at you.
whenever he touches you, he lets his hand linger for just a little bit too long. the feeling of your skin under his fingertips grounds him.
OUT THE GAMES
he will never leave your side. like ever. after the terror you’ve been through, he’d be damned if he let you slightly out of his sight.
surprisingly, nam-gyu is chill with you guys. the few times you’ve hung out with him, he’s been one of the calmest people you know, opposite to thanos.
he’s always there to listen to you. he’s always your shoulder to lean on no matter what.
takes you out on the most lavish dates. since the both of you are pretty rich now, he wants nothing more than to shower you in luxury.
“baby, let’s go out tonight.” “we literally went out last night.” “who cares? live life.”
he can’t fall asleep unless you're next to him. if you’re not aside him, he’d stay up for hours on end. he craves the feeling of your warm body next to him.
he wants to spend every waking moment with you. it’s to the point where it’s an unusual amount of time, but neither of you comment on it.
he writes all of his songs about you. you’re his muse who inspires all of his creativity. after the games, all of his songs suddenly became love songs.
everything he sees reminds him of you. minuscule things such as oversized hoodies, butterflies, and even strawberries.
“baby, i saw a strawberry ceramic cup and it reminded me of you.” “really?”
he can’t keep his hands off of you. wrapping his arms around you, putting a hand on your shoulder, or even having his hands on your waist. he’s so infatuated with you that it’s insane.
he’s obsessed with kissing you and he’s so corny about it. he often finds himself smiling in between kisses or staring at you for a few brief moments afterward.
#(౨ৎ) — fics .#thanos#thanos x reader#choi su bong x reader#thanos fluff#thanos imagine#thanos scenario#squid game#squid game fluff#squid game imagine#squid game scenario#squid game netflix#squid game season 2#squid game 2#x reader#x reader insert#female reader
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PAC How Will Your Future Spouse View You
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Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3
DISCLAIMER THIS IS A GENERAL READING TAKE WHAT RESONATES AND LEAVE WHAT DOESN'T.
Strictly for entertainment purposes.
PILE 1
So, before I get into the tarot bit of the reading the overall vibe I am getting is that you and your future spouse will be that couple that are still doing cute stuff together even in old age. You know those older couples you see on TikTok on dates still happy and very much in love, yeah like that. One word I can use to describe it is cozy, just very warm and affectionate basically feeling like this person is your home. It's going to be like 'I'd rather come home to you then be anywhere else'.
On to the tarot bit, Your FS sees you as someone very confident and optimistic (even if you don't see yourself that way). They see you as being positive and very wholesome. Again, before I pulled cards I channelled and I still got the warmth.
Oh my gosh, if any of you have read The Song of Achilles that's basically it. Before anyone points out to me they were a same sex couple .Yes, I know but I am talking about the relationship dynamic between Patroclus and Achilles.
You may have gone through a difficult time in your life and your future spouse will admire how strong and resilient you are, how you're able to adapt to challenges and changes in environment. You may be the type of person who is connected to both their divine feminine and masculine and they truly find that attractive.
They certainly view you as their other half and I know its cliche to say soulmate but that's all your future spouse is saying. You just give them so much happiness and emotional fulfilment.
'They are my home, my soulmate, my forever'
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PILE 2
Ugh Pile 2 your spouse will literally worship you😩. Like you'll tell them your insecurities and they'll just sit there kissing every scar, mark, dimple anything you're insecure about they'll adore. If you're a female or a feminine reading this and you have thick thighs I heard them say 'Come here and crush my skull with those sexy thighs'. Whoever you are you have someone's poor child down horrendous for you.
I think they may be the type to just watch your social media whether you are getting to know each other, dating, engaged or married your social media pages, pictures and videos will always be on their phone screen and they won't go to sleep without listening to a little voice message you sent. Once they get attached baby there's absolutely no getting rid of them, I heard 'You'll have an easier time getting rid of bed bugs'.
When you meet them, they may be a party animal or a player.
Disclaimer it's not toxic obsession more like they will let you be your own person but at the end of the day they are yours and you are theirs, you are their spouse, and they are your spouse and they will forever put you on a pedestal not to the open where they will neglect themselves.
They see you as a prize (again not in a creepy way) You may have options when you meet this person but best believe they'll make sure to stand out and win you over. They see you as the best the world has to offer in terms of what a wife/husband/spouse should be. Your person may have had a few letdowns when it came to love and just know that they see you as a dream come true and again, I know that's very cliche but trust me when Isay they view having you as a spouse as their biggest accomplishment and they want you to know that they'll prove to you every day they are worthy to call themselves your spouse. They feel like you have gone through a period of depression and sadness, and they want you to know that they acknowledge it and they see you as strong every day.
The couple I channelled for you guys is Queen Charlotte and King George from Bridgerton.
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PILE 3
First thing I heard 'Sugar Daddy'. This person will spoil you but love you even more. Yes, they may have money and give you gifts but this person truly does love you, care about you and respect you.
They may be older than you that's why people may think that they are your glucose guardian which is not technically wrong and not technically correct either. I feel like that will be a long term joke you two have about them being your sucrose supplier..
They will definitely view you as delicate, I want to say that they are the protective type but not protective to the point of you feeling suffocated by them. They want you to be comfortable and have what you like 'If my spouse wants that watch I'll get it for them'.
They will view you as fun loving, yet you have this air of power to you that they love. Sure, they view you as delicate and they want to protect you, but they also view you as strong and beyond capable of taking care of yourself and those around you basically your spouse is saying 'they want me, but they don't need me'. They know that you can walk away from them anytime and they like that you're always in your power no matter what.
Your spouse admires how you don't need them to feel whole or for financial gain they see you as a breath of fresh air, a change of pace, an adventure.
He may touch you a lot with your consent obviously, like a hand on your waist, shoulder or they may steal little quick kisses. Also, there may be a lot of friendly banter in the relationship.
The couple I channel for you guys is Fallon and Liam from Dynasty.
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#free tarot reading#pick a pile#pick a card#future spouse#tarot reading#tarotcommunity#tarotblr#tarot cards#daily tarot#love tarot reading#love tarot free#pagan#paganblr#hellenic pagan#Spotify
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ANIMALS
inspired by the song ‘Animals’ by Maroon 5.
rafe cameron x kook!fem!reader
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SUMMARY: in a world where obsession blurs the lines between love and hate, Y/N and rafe cameron are locked in a toxic game of desire and dominance. as the tension between them reaches a boiling point, rafe’s possessiveness and Y/N’s defiance threaten to expose the truth—some animals can’t resist the hunt.
based on this ask !! i hope this is everything you asked for anon, and i’m so so sorry it’s taken so long, i took a cheeky writing break !!🫣 you didn’t specify if you wanted smut or not, but you can stop just before the smut when they get to the bedroom if you wish <3
WARNINGS: lighthearted angst, enemies w/ benefits, smut (18+ mdni!), alcohol consumption, slut-shaming (?), bitchy!reader, unprotected p in v (wrap it before ya tap it!), doggy style (bent over vanity), rough sex, manhandling (😝), hair pulling, jealous!rafe, reader throws a drink on rafe. (i think that’s it? lmk if i missed anything !!)
A/N: you can imagine any era rafe during this, but i do mention him having hair as reader pulls it, but i do see buzz cut!rafe in this too😫
WORD COUNT: 4.6k
THIRD PERSON +
The summer air was thick with humidity, the nights heavy with tension on the Outer Banks. Parties spilled onto beachfronts and estates, bonfires lighting up the endless skies. Y/N had the world at her feet—a true Kook princess with her sharp tongue, dazzling smile, and a touch of venom.
She played her cards perfectly, commanding the room wherever she went.
Rafe Cameron, however, was her shadow—a predator who stalked the edges of her light. He was trouble wrapped in an expensive polo, a cocktail of entitlement, rage, and obsession. The two of them didn’t get along in public. They’d perfected the art of bickering, their sharp remarks drawing laughter from Kooks and Pogues alike.
But beneath the surface, there was something darker, something intoxicating they could never resist.
—
The party was in full swing at Tannyhill, the gilded walls reflecting the warm glow of the chandelier overhead. Kooks milled about, drinks in hand, laughter echoing off the high ceilings. Y/N leaned casually against the marble counter in the kitchen, a glass of champagne dangling from her manicured fingers. She looked every bit the spoiled, self-assured girl everyone knew her to be—her designer dress clinging to her figure like a second skin, her lips painted in a deep shade that matched the smug smirk on her face.
Across the room, Rafe Cameron leaned against the doorway, his sharp jawline tightening as he watched her. He hated how she always seemed so effortlessly in control, like she knew exactly how to drive him crazy. He hated it even more when she turned her head and caught his eye, her smirk widening into something far more dangerous.
"Staring much, Cameron?" Y/N called out, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Rafe pushed off the doorframe, weaving through the crowd with the precision of a predator closing in on his prey. He came to a stop inches away from her, his blue eyes locking onto hers. "Can you blame me? You make it impossible not to look."
Y/N arched an eyebrow, unfazed by his proximity. "Careful, Rafe. Your obsession is showing."
His lips curved into a smirk, but there was nothing playful about it. "Obsession? Don't flatter yourself, sweetheart. I'm just curious how someone so perfect at pretending to be untouchable keeps ending up in my bed."
Her smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, but she recovered quickly. "Must be all that champagne. Makes it hard to remember mistakes."
Rafe leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. "Mistake? We both know I'm the only thing you can't resist. You're just too proud to admit it."
Y/N's stomach twisted, but she refused to let him see how much his words affected her. She tilted her head, her voice as cold as ice. "Funny, I don't recall needing to admit anything to you."
Before Rafe could respond, JJ appeared at her side, slinging an arm over her shoulder. "Hey, pretty girl. Thought you'd ditched us for your old Kook crowd."
Rafe's jaw tightened, his glare shifting to JJ. "Don't you have a surfboard to wax or something, Pogue?"
JJ ignored him, flashing Y/N a grin. "Let's get out of here. This party's dead."
Y/N hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting to Rafe, whose expression darkened. She knew exactly what she was doing when she looped her arm through JJ's and started toward the door.
"Don't go too far, Y/N," Rafe called after her, his voice low and threatening. "You can run, but you'll always end up right back here."
—
The night air was cool as Y/N sat on the dock, the soft lapping of the water providing a brief reprieve from the chaos of the party. She'd barely been there for five minutes when she heard footsteps behind her.
"Couldn't stay away, could you?" she said without turning around.
Rafe dropped down beside her, his knees brushing hers. "You're really testing my patience tonight."
Y/N rolled her eyes. "What, did JJ's existence bruise your fragile ego?"
"You think this is a joke?" Rafe growled, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him. "I see the way you act around Maybann. Like you're trying to piss me off on purpose."
She yanked her face away, her voice sharp. "Maybe I am. Ever think about that?"
His eyes darkened, and for a moment, she thought he might snap. Instead, he leaned back, his smirk returning. "Go ahead, keep playing your little games. But we both know how this ends."
"Enlighten me," she said dryly.
Rafe's voice dropped to a whisper, his hand brushing against her cheek. "You can't run from me, Y/N. You belong to me, whether you like it or not. And no Pogue or party can change that."
The tension crackled between them like a live wire. She hated how much his words got to her, how his touch sent shivers down her spine. But she'd be damned if she let him win.
"Is that so?" she said sweetly, picking up her glass and tossing the bubbly contents into his face.
The champagne dripped from his hair, and for a moment, the shock on his face was enough to make her burst out laughing. But then his lips curled into a dangerous smile, and she knew she'd made a mistake.
"You're gonna regret that," Rafe said, his voice low and dangerous.
Y/N stood, her confidence unshaken. "Try me, Cameron."
As she walked away, swaying her hips a little more than usual, she could feel his eyes burning into her back. She knew she was playing with fire, but part of her loved the thrill of it. She and Rafe were two sides of the same coin, locked in a game neither of them could quit.
Because deep down, she knew he was right. No matter how far she ran, he'd always find her. And part of her didn't want him to stop.
—
The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the beach outside The Wreck, where Y/N sat at a picnic table surrounded by her friends. Sarah was leaning back on the bench, sunglasses perched on her nose, while Kie propped her chin on her hand, animatedly recounting a story. Cleo chuckled beside her, and Y/N's two Kook friends, Taylor and Malia, leaned in with interest, their perfectly styled hair catching the light.
The scene was serene, a picture-perfect group of girls enjoying themselves on the edge of paradise. But Y/N couldn't focus. Across the sandy expanse, near a beat-up truck surrounded by Kooks, Rafe Cameron stood with Topper, Kelce, and a couple of others, the unmistakable swagger in his stance making him impossible to ignore.
Y/N sipped her iced tea, letting her gaze flicker toward him briefly. He was watching her—had been since the moment she arrived. His intense blue eyes tracked her every move, smoldering with a mix of anger, desire, and something darker. She could feel his stare like a physical touch, and though it sent a shiver down her spine, she wasn't about to let him win.
"Y/N, hello?" Kie waved a hand in front of her face. "Earth to Kook Barbie. You're zoning out."
Y/N snapped her attention back to the group, giving Kie a lazy smile. "Sorry, what were you saying?"
"Forget it," Kie said, rolling her eyes. "You've got that look again."
"What look?" Y/N asked innocently, toying with the straw in her glass.
Sarah smirked. "The one you get when my brother is around. Don't think we didn't notice."
"Oh, please," Y/N said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Like I care about whatever Rafe is doing."
Cleo raised an eyebrow, a sly grin spreading across her face. "You might not care, but he sure does. Dude's been staring at you like he wants to devour you."
Y/N scoffed but didn't deny it. Before she could come up with a cutting remark, their waiter approached—a new guy, tall and tanned with a charming smile, and black curls sitting atop his head. He carried a tray of drinks with ease, his eyes lighting up when they landed on Y/N.
"Afternoon, ladies," he said, setting the tray down. "Your drinks, courtesy of...well, me."
Kie raised a brow. "My parents own this place. You don't have to do that."
The waiter grinned, but his attention stayed on Y/N. "Consider it a perk of working here."
The girls giggled, and Y/N leaned back in her seat, tilting her head. "Wow, how generous," she said, her tone teasing.
"It's not every day I get to serve someone like you," the waiter replied smoothly.
Y/N feigned shock, her hand fluttering to her chest. "Someone like me? You mean, devastatingly gorgeous and completely out of your league?"
The girls burst into laughter, and even the waiter chuckled, though his cheeks flushed a little. "I wouldn't say out of my league," he shot back with a wink.
Y/N could practically feel Rafe's glare burning into her from across the beach, and that knowledge made her smirk grow. She leaned forward slightly, giving the waiter her full attention. "Careful," she said, her voice low and sweet. "Flattery might just get you somewhere."
The poor guy was about to respond when the door to The Wreck slammed open, and in walked Rafe, flanked by Topper, Kelce, and the other Kooks. Their arrival was loud, drawing the attention of nearly everyone in the restaurant.
"Oh, for the love of God," Sarah muttered, pulling her sunglasses down. "What are they doing here?"
"They're like cockroaches," Taylor grumbled. "You can't get rid of them."
The boys took a table near the girls, Rafe purposefully sitting with a clear view of Y/N. She didn't miss the way his gaze flicked to the waiter, who had quickly retreated to the kitchen, and then back to her. His jaw was tight, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the table.
"Y/N," Rafe called, his voice cutting through the chatter. "Having fun?"
Y/N turned her head slowly, fixing him with a bored expression. "Immensely. Thanks for asking."
Topper snickered, leaning back in his chair. "You sure about that? Looked like your new boyfriend was trying a little too hard."
"Jealous, Top?" Y/N shot back, her tone saccharine sweet. "I didn't think I was your type."
Rafe's smirk widened, but it didn't reach his eyes. "What's the matter, Y/N? You settling for waiters now?"
The girls groaned audibly, Malia muttering, "Here we go."
Y/N leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table as she met Rafe's gaze head-on. "What's the matter, Rafe? Can't handle a little competition?"
"There's no competition," he shot back, his voice dripping with confidence. "We both know how this ends."
The tension between them was palpable, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. Kie looked ready to intervene, but Sarah grabbed her arm, shaking her head.
"You're delusional," Y/N said, her voice sharp. "Just because you can't handle rejection doesn't mean I'm going to cater to your bruised ego."
Rafe leaned back in his chair, his smirk unwavering. "Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. But we both know the truth."
The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. Y/N's cheeks felt warm, but whether it was from anger or something else, she couldn't tell.
"Let's go," Kie said firmly, grabbing Y/N's arm.
Y/N stood abruptly, glaring at Rafe. "You're pathetic, Cameron. Enjoy your boys' club."
As the girls filed out, Y/N could feel Rafe's eyes on her, his stare as possessive and unyielding as ever.
Back at their table, Topper and Kelce were laughing, but Rafe wasn't paying attention. His mind was elsewhere, his fists clenching as he replayed the interaction with the waiter. Without a word, he got up and made his way to the kitchen.
The waiter was leaning against the counter when Rafe approached, his towering presence immediately unsettling.
"Hey," Rafe said, his voice low and menacing.
The waiter looked up, his brow furrowing. "Uh, can I help you?"
Rafe stepped closer, his gaze cold. "Yeah. Stay the hell away from Y/N."
The waiter blinked, confused. "What? Dude, I was just—"
"You were just what?" Rafe interrupted, his voice rising. "Flirting with her? Trying to impress her? Let me make this clear: she's mine. So back off. You so much as even breathe near her, I will be the reason you never will again. Got it?”
The waiter raised his hands in surrender, clearly shaken. "Alright, man. Chill. I didn't know she was...yours."
Rafe smirked, satisfied. "Now you do. Keep it that way."
As he walked back to his table, Rafe felt a grim sense of satisfaction. Y/N could play her little games, but he'd always win. She was his—whether she admitted it or not.
—
The bass thumped through the walls of Y/N's sprawling Figure 8 estate, the music so loud it felt like it shook the floor beneath Rafe's feet. The party was in full swing, her infamous gatherings never failing to attract the entire island—Kooks and Pogues alike. For one night, the divide that separated them blurred under the haze of expensive liquor, pulsating lights, and deafening music.
Rafe leaned against the bar in the corner of the room, nursing a drink he hadn't touched in the last hour. His usual cocky smirk was absent, replaced by a scowl that deepened every time someone brushed past him. He told himself he didn't care about Y/N's party, didn't care that she was in the same house, probably doing everything she could to piss him off.
But he was lying to himself, and he knew it.
For days, he'd been ignoring her, hoping distance would dull the fire she sparked in him. He knew his obsession with her was spiraling out of control, consuming him like a predator stalking its prey. But Y/N wasn't just prey—she was a fighter, stubborn and untouchable, and it made the hunt all the more maddening.
Kelce leaned against the bar beside him, talking about something Rafe wasn't listening to. His mind was too preoccupied with the faint sound of Y/N's laugh echoing through the house, the mental image of her smile, the way she always seemed to dance just out of his reach.
"Bro, you need to see this," Topper suddenly said, his voice cutting through Rafe's thoughts.
Rafe turned his head, narrowing his eyes. "What?"
Topper grinned, motioning toward the living room. "Y/N's losing her mind right now. Dancing on a table. You have to see it."
Rafe's jaw tightened, his fingers curling around the red solo cup in his hand. Topper didn't notice, too busy grabbing Kelce and a couple of others to follow him.
"C'mon, man," Topper called over his shoulder.
Rafe hesitated for a split second before downing the rest of his drink and shoving off the bar. His feet carried him toward the living room almost involuntarily, like he was drawn to her by some magnetic force.
When he stepped into the room, the scene in front of him made his blood boil.
Y/N was on top of a table in the center of the room, the crowd around her cheering and chanting her name. The bass-heavy beat of a Weeknd song pulsed through the air as she moved, her body swaying in a way that was both hypnotic and infuriating. Her dress—a tiny black number that clung to her curves and barely grazed her thighs—left little to the imagination. She ran her hands down her body as she dropped low to the beat, the crowd around her cheering and whistling.
Rafe's grip on his drink tightened, the nearly empty plastic cup crumpling slightly under the pressure. He hated this. He hated the way everyone was looking at her, like she was a piece of meat. He hated the way his sister, Sarah, and her Pogue friends were egging her on, cheering her as she danced.
But most of all, he hated the way Y/N's eyes found his in the crowd, her lips curling into a smirk as if she knew exactly what she was doing to him.
"She's so hot," Topper said beside him, nudging Kelce. "Like, insanely hot."
"Shut up," Rafe snapped, his tone sharp enough to make them both flinch.
"What's your problem?" Kelce asked, raising an eyebrow.
Rafe didn't answer. His attention was locked on Y/N, who had leaned down to respond to something JJ said. The way she bent over, laughing and tossing her hair, gave JJ a perfect view of her exposed chest. Rafe saw red.
Without thinking, he shoved his way through the crowd, ignoring the curious stares and whispers that followed him. By the time he reached the table, Y/N was already watching him with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
"Y/N," he barked, his voice cutting through the music. "Get your ass down here. Now."
She tilted her head, pretending not to hear him. "What was that?" she called, cupping her ear mockingly as she continued to dance.
"I said get down," he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Y/N crossed her arms, leaning against the makeshift pole on the table. "No, I don't think I will."
The crowd around them had started to notice the interaction, whispers spreading quickly. Why was Rafe Cameron, of all people, telling Y/N what to do? Everyone knew they hated each other—or at least, they were supposed to.
"Y/N," he growled, his patience wearing thin. "I'm not playing games. Get down."
"And I'm not taking orders," she shot back, her voice dripping with defiance.
The Pogues exchanged glances, their confusion evident. Even Sarah looked unsure, her eyes darting between her brother and her friend.
Rafe had enough. In one swift motion, he grabbed Y/N by the waist and slung her over his shoulder, ignoring her gasp of surprise.
"Rafe, what the hell?!" she shouted, kicking her legs as he pushed through the crowd. "Put me down!"
"Not a chance," he muttered, his grip like steel, holding the minimal fabric of her dress to keep her ass covered from the hungry eyes of partygoers.
The crowd parted as he stormed upstairs, the whispers following them like a shadow. Y/N's protests continued, but deep down, she reveled in the attention. She knew what this was—a game of dominance, one she had no intention of losing.
When they reached her room, Rafe punched in the code to the keypad with practiced ease. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, locking it behind them before setting her down.
Y/N crossed her arms, glaring at him. "What the hell is your problem?"
"My problem?" he shot back, his voice loud and angry. "What the hell was that downstairs?"
"That was me having fun," she retorted, stepping closer to him. "What's it to you?"
"You call that fun? Parading yourself around like a damn stripper?"
"Oh, spare me the lecture, Rafe," she snapped. "You don't own me."
"Don't I?" he countered, his voice low and dangerous.
Her breath hitched, but she didn't back down. "No, you don't. And the fact that you think you do is pathetic."
The tension between them was suffocating, their faces inches apart as they glared at each other.
"You drive me insane," Rafe muttered, his voice thick with frustration.
"Good," she shot back.
Before she could say anything else, his lips crashed against hers, the kiss rough and desperate. She melted into him for a moment before pushing him back.
"This doesn't mean you win," she whispered, her voice breathless.
Rafe smirked, his hands gripping her waist. "Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart."
Rafe used Y/N’s brief moment of weakness to his advantage, and manoeuvred her body towards the large king-sized bed in her room. He gripped her wrists in one of his hands, Y/N instantly struggling in his grip.
"You’re such a fucking brat," Rafe growled, his hands tightening around her wrists as he pinned her to the bed. Y/N's back hit the soft mattress with a soft thud, her chest rising and falling as she glared up at him, her lips swollen from his bruising kiss.
"And you're a possessive asshole," she shot back, her voice sharp despite the way her body betrayed her, arching into his touch. "But you're my possessive asshole."
Rafe's smirk was dark, predatory, as he released her hands. "Damn right I am."
He leaned down, his lips grazing her ear, his voice a low, dangerous purr that sent shivers down her spine. "You think you can keep playing games with me? You think you're in control?" His teeth nipped at her earlobe, and she gasped, her perfectly manicured nails digging into his back.
"I'm always in control," she breathed, but the tremor in her voice gave her away.
Before Rafe could respond, she bucked her hips, using the momentum to flip them over. She straddled him, her hands pressed against his chest, her hair falling in a wild curtain around her face.
"See?" she said, tilting her head with a smirk. "I'm calling the shots here."
Rafe's eyes narrowed, his hands sliding up her thighs, pushing the black fabric of her dress up, gripping her hips with a bruising force. "You keep telling yourself that, princess."
Their lips crashed together again, the kiss fierce and unrelenting. Y/N's hands tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan, while Rafe's fingers dug into her skin, leaving marks that she knew she'd wear like a badge of honour in her designer bikini’s.
They were a mess of tangled limbs and heated breaths, their bodies moving in a desperate rhythm that was as much about dominance as it was about pleasure. Y/N's nails raked down his now bare chest, and Rafe retaliated by flipping her onto her back once more, his lips trailing down her neck, leaving a trail of bites and kisses that made her head spin.
"You're mine," he muttered against her skin, his voice rough with need. "You've always been mine."
"Keep dreaming," she scoffed, but the way her body responded to him—arching into his touch, her legs tightening around his waist—told a whole different story.
Rafe pulled back, his eyes locking with hers. The intensity in his gaze was overwhelming, and for a moment, Y/N felt like she couldn't breathe. "Look at you," he said, his voice low and filled with a raw hunger that made her shiver. "You're a fucking mess for me, and you hate it."
She opened her mouth to retort, but he cut her off with a kiss that left her dizzy. His hands moved to her waist, lifting her effortlessly as he stood, carrying her to the vanity in the corner of the room.
"What are you doing?" she demanded, though her voice lacked its usual bite.
Rafe didn't answer. Instead, he set her down on the edge of the vanity, his hands gripping her hips as he manhandled her body around to face herself in the mirror. "Look at yourself," he ordered, his voice firm.
Y/N hesitated, her eyes flicking to the reflection in front of her. Her hair was disheveled, her lips swollen, her skin flushed, the thin straps of her dress hanging off her shoulders exposing the lace of her bra, the fabric of her dress crumpled up by her hips. She looked... wrecked.
And it was all because of him.
"See?" Rafe's voice was a low growl in her ear, his hands trailing down her sides. "This is what you do to me. This is what I do to you."
She opened her mouth to protest, but the words died on her lips as his hands moved to the back of her thighs, spreading them apart. His lips pressed against the curve of her neck, his teeth grazing her skin in a way that made her gasp. Rafe moved the thin lace fabric of her thong to the side, middle and ring finger running through the wetness in between her thighs, Y/N shuddering as he brushed over her clit.
"You're so fucking beautiful like this. So fucking wet all for me," he muttered, his voice thick with need. "All mine."
Y/N's breath hitched as he positioned himself behind her, his hands deftly undoing his belt then undoing the button and zip on his pants, pulling them down enough to expose his rigid cock. The sheer girth and length of it never failing to surprise Y/N.
Rafe gripped her hips with a possessiveness that made her heart race. "You're such an egomaniac," she managed to say, though her voice was breathless.
Rafe chuckled darkly, his lips brushing against her ear. "And you love it."
Before she could respond, he thrust into her, the sudden fullness making her cry out. Her hands gripped the edge of the vanity, her eyes locking with his in the mirror.
"Keep your eyes open," Rafe ordered, his voice rough. "I want you to see what I do to you."
Y/N's breath came in short gasps as he moved inside her, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through her. She tried to hold his gaze, but the intensity was too much, and she had to look away, her head falling forward as a borderline pornographic moan escaped her lips.
Rafe's hand tangled in her hair, pulling her head back up. "I said, keep your fucking eyes open," he growled, his voice filled with a command that she couldn't ignore.
She met his gaze in the mirror, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted as she panted. The sight of him behind her, his eyes dark with desire, his hands gripping her hips with a possessiveness that made her heart race, was almost too much to bear.
"See that?" Rafe muttered, his voice low and filled with a raw hunger that mirrored her own. "That's you. That's what I do to you."
Y/N's nails dug into the edge of the vanity as he thrust into her again, the force of it making her cry out. She could feel herself unraveling, the pleasure building inside her with each harsh thrust Rafe delivered, but she refused to give in, refused to let him have the satisfaction of seeing her fall apart.
"You're such a bastard," she managed to say, though her voice was shaky.
Rafe chuckled darkly, his lips brushing against her ear. "And you're such a brat. But you're my brat."
His hand moved between her legs, his fingers finding her clit, moving in swift circles that made her gasp, and she couldn't hold back any longer. Her body arched into his touch, her eyes locking with his in the mirror as she came undone, her moans filling the room as her pussy clenched around Rafe.
Rafe didn't stop, his movements growing more frantic as he chased his own release. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her back into him with a force that made her gasp. The sounds of slick skin colliding and gasps and moans were the only sound in the room, and Y/N was thankfully for the bass-heavy music that was playing downstairs, meaning nobody could hear them.
"You're mine," he muttered, his voice rough with need. "You've always been mine."
And as he spilled inside her, his lips pressing against her neck in a bruising kiss, Y/N couldn't help but think that maybe—just maybe—he was right.
She is his, and he is hers.
betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆。˚
i had SO much fun writing this one !! there’s something about writing such a bad bitch character and she reminds me so much of a character from a wattpad fic i wrote a while ago😫
anyways, i hope you enjoy this anon !! and i hope this was what you asked for :) as always, please like and reblog and comment your thoughts !! <3
#rafe cameron#bettys asks !! ౨ৎ ⋆。˚#drew starkey#outer banks#fluff#obx#rafe cameron x reader#bettys work !! ౨ৎ ⋆。˚#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron smut#smut#enemies to lovers#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you
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it's okay, i'm okay : ̗̀➛이희승
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/94b4c0858ceae2657b4ba6c0e91964f6/a8d9730322e7c929-0b/s540x810/26f7427a0be9c67e97414c0794ae0bac172db1f1.jpg)
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i don't want him anyway, girl, take him..
✧heeseung x f!reader
genre/warnings: 3.8k, i don’t want to give too much away :0 but angst, relationship, cheating, shouting, sex, fighting, mentions of wishing death. this in no way shape or form represents heeseung, it's purely fictional! italics are flashback scenes!!!
a/n: i’m obsessed with this song omg + i listened to white ferrari (it’s my cry song 😕) at one point while writing this so theres a few references AND i was listening to the new tyler album so if it’s not sad enough it’s because i was so excited 😭😭 ooo and the favourite song choice is from those playlists that enha made at the start of the romance untold era 🔥🔥 for @sofsofenso my no.1 fan, mwah 😽 i hope you like it !!
masterlist
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/a1a43bfb32eaeb36020ad2b4f9f12bca/a8d9730322e7c929-2c/s540x810/6b3ed6b3701f4599f8de9a2d0d1824703498edd7.jpg)
"I. Love. You. So. Fucking. Much." he kissed you between each word.
Your chest was heavy as you held his weight on your stomach but you managed to laugh at his actions.
"We'll be together forever right?" you held your pinky out.
"Forever and ever!" he crossed his own with yours.
Heeseung Lee wasn’t dead but you truly wished he was.
Your naive 11-year-old heart truly believed that you'd be with him forever. He was your first everything.
You were that cheesy couple in the group that everyone believed would get married and have kids and stay together till you were old and grey.
Too bad, considering your luck was always terrible and you had attracted the devil's spawn.
The fleeting moments of you sneaking him into your room, the lingering touches you shared and the overall thought of his existence skated around the interior of your brain.
You desperately wanted to get rid of them but they brought a sense of comfort that only he could fill.
flashback!-
"I think you might be my soulmate.." he trailed off.
"Hee!" you scolded him. "Wait until after we meet your parents."
You smoothed down your black skirt, checking your outfit in the mirror one last time.
He helped you into his red leather jacket before pulling you into his embrace.
"Heeseung!"
"Okay, okay baby." he pulled away. "Let me get a picture before we go,"
The flash of his polaroid camera captured your smitten expression as he kissed your cheek.
His parents loved you, they claimed that their son had a glow around him whenever he was with you.
"Oh my, sorry. I can't focus when I look into your eyes, pretty." Heeseung whispered.
You lightly hit his chest. "I was telling you to look at this."
"Wait, new lockscreen and it's still me!" he got up and did a little dance.
"Yeah, but that not what I- "
He picked you up and twirled you around before attacking you with tickles.
"Stop, stop!"
"Tell me how much you love me and I'll stop." he cackled.
"I love you, so much, Hee." you collapsed onto his bed in a fit of giggles.
He flopped down next to you and pulled you into his chest.
"You really are my soulmate."
What a bunch of crap.
"Yn.. don't look but she's.. over there." Winter glared in the direction of the girl who was partly responsible for the end of your relationship.
flashback!-
Keeho rested an arm around your shoulder as he showed you around the party.
"You're so drunk already." You laughed at him. “Again.”
It was common for Keeho to get heavily drunk at pre’s and every time he said he would stop but just didn’t follow through.
"AM not." he pouted.
The two of you walked over to your friends.
"Where's your man?" Sungchan laughed behind his cup.
"We're not always together." you grumbled.
His comment did make you curious though as you had both made your way to the party separately.
Your grandfather was sick and you wanted to visit him in the hospital before making your way to Keeho's 19th, so you had told Heeseung he could meet you whenever he got there.
Chenle told you that he'd seen him in the kitchen earlier so they all followed you there.
"Heeseung! What the fuck!" you shouted.
Yunjin was pressed up against your boyfriend who had a hand in her hair. They were about an inch away from kissing but judging by the gloss on his lips, you could tell that they already had.
He gently pushed her away with a laugh.
"Baby, hey." he waved to your friends too.
"What is your problem?!"
You pushed him away as he got closer to you.
He grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the kitchen.
"Guys.." Winter called after you.
His feet stopped once you were inside a bathroom.
"I've never seen you that mad before, pretty." he laughed.
"Let me out."
"No way... you're actually jealous."
Your jaw dropped.
"I'm not jealous, I'm breaking up with you."
"No, you're not." His face dropped. “Your emotions are high right now because your grandfather is sick. Don’t let that cloud your judgement.”
All you could do was look away because you believed his words.
"Come on, let's talk about this." he attempted to kiss you.
"Get off! You've clearly kissed someone else tonight and you expect me to want to stay with you despite you cheating."
This wasn't even the first time you'd caught him “cheating” on you.
He laughed in your face.
"This isn't Yunjin's lip combo." he joked.
"Well, it's someone's isn't it?" you frowned.
"So, you're gonna throw away 9 years because you don't trust me?" he calmed down.
Spolier! He'd convinced you to stay with him once again!
You remember the disappointed looks from all of your friends when you walked out with his arm around you.
They weren’t the only people who began to warn you about Heeseung.
Every new person you’d interacted with told you that he was bad news but you reassured them that he was just getting used to university.
He seemed to switch as soon as you’d gotten to uni, badmouthing you to his friends, staying out late, missing dates, ignoring you and each time you’d take him back.
You even took him back when you walked into the lunch area and caught him kissing your seat-mate from Politics.
Your best friends didn’t speak to you for a week after that one.
But you’d become desensitised to the feeling you got when you’d catch him. Taking him back immediately saved you from having to argue with him and you were tired.
Tired from the stress of your degree and having to deal with Heeseung.
Everywhere you went, you received looks of pity. No one envied you for being in a relationship with Heeseung, they all felt sorry for you.
You continued to defend him and every time he’d act out and chip off a piece of your heart, leaving you embarrassed and scared.
“Hee is my soulmate.” you reiterated.
Heeseung was all you ever wanted.
He was all you’d ever known.
Hee was your first everything.
Letting him go, would be losing a part of yourself and you weren’t quite sure if you were capable of doing that yet.
But four months later at the same house you'd been pushed to your limit.
flashback!-
“Great to see that you aren’t as drunk as last time.” Chenle poked at Keeho.
“I’m on lookout, Jiung smashed my dining room table last time.” He rolled his eyes.
“Yn!” someone turned you around.
“Hey, Yunjin.” you all sighed.
“Where’s Heeseung?” she pouted.
You really didn’t know and you were tired of people asking you that.
“I don’t know, go find him if you want.” you shrugged.
You had every reason to be mad at him.
It was your 10-year anniversary and you hadn’t done anything to celebrate together.
The party was his idea of “having a fun anniversary”.
“Yunjin, don’t come over to kill the vibe.” Sungchan groaned.
“Fine.” she grumbled.
On her way past you, she pretended to trip in order to dump her drink down your front.
“Shit.” you ran off to a bathroom in order to get the ice out of your bra, not even stopping to hear Winter scold Yunjin.
Most of them were locked so you opted for the one in Keeho’s bedroom.
On the verge of tears, you attempted to calm yourself down and get a shirt from his walk in wardrobe.
You threw on a jersey that matched with your jeans and were on your way out when someone came into the main area of the room.
“Finally, I’ve been looking for you for ages.” a girl giggled.
‘What is Yunjin doing here?’
“Well, I’m a busy man.”
‘Heeseung?! What kind of a sick joke was this?’
“Ugh don’t remind me. I asked Yn where you were and she literally said she didn’t care.”
‘I didn’t say that??’
“What?” Heeseung sounded confused.
“Enough about her, I’m right here. And we have all the time in the world.”
You could hear her kiss him.
The same lips that had spent countless hours pressed against your own.
The same lips that spoke promises of fulfilment and expressed their gratitude towards you.
The same lips that whispered words of encouragement when it was just the two of you, late at night while you gave yourself to him.
You felt disgusted.
Heeseung Lee wasn’t dead, but you truly wished he was. You wanted him to suffer an unspeakable fate for hurting you but every time you thought of him, you couldn’t bear the thought of having to live without him.
The remaining fragments of your heart fell into the palm of your hand. There was nothing to fight for anymore.
You should’ve moved long before the moans reached your ear but you were frozen in shock.
‘Is this what people warned me of.’ you panicked. ‘I should’ve never let it get this far.”
Your feet didn’t wait and moved involuntarily as you gave away your hiding spot.
You needed to see it for yourself.
The tears that you’d been holding in for months fell down your cheeks.
“I can’t do this- not today.”
Pushing past them you ran downstairs and out the doors, attracting the attention of your friends.
“Yn? What, wait!” Heeseung shouted, running after you as he slipped his clothes back on.
He grabbed your arm pulling you back into his embrace.
You shoved him away violently this time.
“Baby, I’m sorry.”
“You can’t keep saying you’re sorry and then acting out and embarrassing me every. single. time. I’m fed up Heeseung, I am done with you for good. The pain I feel just from loving you is a burden that I shouldn’t have to face anymore. I love you so much, Hee- Heeseung.” You cried as you pushed him away again. “I care so much, but it’s clear that my best just wasn’t enough for you. I’m sure that- that in another life we’d be happy.. but in this one I just don’t think that’s possible.”
“Yn, no. I’ll fix this.. I’ll fix us and I- I’ll change my ways. Just- please.” he trembled. “I wanted- I want to spend my life with you.. I can’t lose you. You can’t leave me. You’re all I’ve ever known.”
“Well that’s not true,” you sobbed. “I don’t trust you anymore.”
“Baby, why.” he grabbed your hands. “Why don’t you trust me anymore? What do I have to do to get you to trust me again.. I’ll do anything for you. I love you..”
You could see your friends in your peripheral vision watching in concern. Waiting to intervene.
“Can I ask you something?” you stared him in the eye. “I need you to answer honestly.”
“Anything!” he pleaded, tears running down his face. “Ask me anything.”
“Why did you do it time after time?” you watched him deny his acts.
“Sieun told me. You were with Yunjin, Aya, Kate. You even tried it on my Winter and she’s my best friend, Mia, Yeji, Aeri.. I can’t.” The tears fell again.
“None of them compare to you.. Baby, please don’t leave.” he tried getting closer to you. “When I look at you all I see is my soulmate. I care for you still and I will, forever.”
“Well, I look at you… and I see nothing.”
For once, he didn’t even try to fight back.
The rest of the night was a blur.
Sungchan punched him and Winter took you home as you cried for days to come.
You waited by the phone for a text or even a call with an apology but days passed then weeks which turned into months.
There was an odd sense of comfort in knowing that he knew he was in the wrong but all you wanted to do was have him hold you and tell you that everything would be alright.
Yunjin waited for her coffee to be made as she looked down at her phone.
"I.. You know what.. I don't care." you leaned back in your chair.
You didn’t know if she was still dating him, and you didn’t want to.
Chenle gasped.
"Are you being real right now?" He pressed. "This is new territory."
You nodded.
Winter suddenly began to look uncomfortable.
"Coming.. over.. here." she muttered out.
"Yn!" Yunjin screeched. “You’re going to Keeho’s party tonight right?”
“Yeah.. Surprised that you are too, you know.”
She pointed at herself confused.
“I didn’t know you were friends with Keeho.” you pointed.
“Oh, I’m not. I’m someone’s plus one.” she looked away bashfully.
“That’s not a problem.” you shrugged it off. “We’re all there to get wasted anyway.”
She mistook your lack of anger as friendship.
“Well, hope I see you later.” she waved, taking off as her order was called up.
“I don’t.” Chenle groaned.
You looked at the time on your phone.
“Cute lockscreen.” Winter giggled.
It was a picture of you, her, Chenle, Sungchan and Keeho on holiday together.
That was the summer after you and Heeseung broke up.
flashback!-
“It is so hot here.” Winter fanned herself.
“That’s because you’re stood out on the balcony.” Sungchan laughed.
Everyone else lounged around your hotel room.
You were still a mess.
They were trying to distract you from anything and everything and while you appreciated the thought, you just wanted Heeseung back.
Your phone was connected to Keeho’s speaker, blasting some songs that you weren’t paying attention to.
A familiar intro snapped you out of your trance and you immediately reached for your phone.
“No- No, Yn give me that.” Chenle snatched the phone out of your hands.
You’d pressed onto Heeseung’s contact and were in the process of typing out ‘I miss you…’
You remembered what Heeseung told you the first time. “Sincerity is scary by the 1975. Whenever I hear the song, I think of you.” he shrugged. “I guess that’s why it’s my favourite.”
All it took was one song, his favourite song, and you fell back into the rhythm that they were trying to get you out of.
“Come on.” Keeho smiled as he helped you up. “Let’s go out, it’s not every day that you get to be in Hawaii!
Now two years had passed.
You were in the final year of your Bachelor’s degree, with employment lined up for you to work under a United Nations representative as you studied for your Masters.
Winter was going off to Paris to work as a designer for a luxury brand, Chenle was already earning 6 figures as an accountant while studying, Keeho and Sungchan were both planning a gap year before going into business and engineering respectively.
Your best friends, all going their separate ways. You couldn’t bear the thought.
You loved them like no other and having to deal with life’s problems alone didn’t seem too great.
Together you’d created a calendar to show whenever someone was free and had planned several group holidays to come.
Spending winter in Paris with Winter, spring break in the Philippines with Keeho and Sungchan and several mini trips in summer with Chenle.
“Cheers!” Keeho shouted.
“What are we cheering to?” you laughed.
“Us… duh!”
You’d all settled on the conservatory sofa, away from the noise and people at the party.
“We have 5 months left, don’t get sappy.” Sungchan smiled.
“Well if you think about it, it’ll be over in no time.” Winter looked deep in thought. “We’ve been friends for 19 years now and those flew by.”
19 years..
It didn’t take long for you all to realise that you really didn’t have a lot of time left in your bubble.
Having to face the real world without your found family was difficult.
“I don’t want to leave you guys.” Chenle cried into your side as you all hugged each other.
“Please don’t be a stranger guys,” Keeho sobbed. “Weekly group facetime calls, weekend trips..”
“I want postcards.” you wailed. “From your world trip.”
“You’ll all get them.” Sungchan bawled.
“Remember in nursery when- when Chenle started that paint fight and we all got scolded by the teacher.” Winter laughed with a sniffle.
Laughter broke out across the group.
You had the picture on your childhood bedroom wall. The four-year-old versions of yourselves covered head to toe and looking guilty.
Time really does fly by.
“I love you guys.”
The moment was cut short when Jiung stumbled into the room.
“Hey!”
“Not me!”
Chenle dove out of the way and you ended up covered in Jiung’s drink.
“Why does everyone put ice in their drinks!” you wined. “I’m going to steal a shirt, Keeho.”
You left the group as they arranged a ride home for Jiung and looked for a change of clothes in Keeho’s wardrobe.
Slipping a shirt on, you left his room but realised you’d wanted to use the bathroom.
There was another down the hall anyway.
You were in the process of washing your hands when you noticed the song seeping through the gap under the door.
“Sincerity is scary by the 1975.”
But you didn’t have an urge to text him.
The door flung open.
‘Why!’ you groaned.
“Ba- Yn..” he tilted his head. “You look better.”
“Please leave, Heeseung.”
You hated how he looked even better.
“Why are you looking at me like that..” you whined.
You hated how your whole being shut down as soon as you were close to him. The past two years went out of the window.
“Like what?” he whispered.
“You know we can’t..” you trailed off.
He took several steps closer to you and you hesitated to breathe.
“We’re not doing anything.” his eyes were very much focused on your lips.
Winter’s voice rang out in your head.
“Don’t tell the guys.. but if you ever end up in the same place as him, I think you should get closure. It’ll help you move on.”
You let him kiss you.
When he pulled away you brought him back, kissing his lips with a hunger you’d never had before.
He pulled you up by the waist and placed you on the bathroom counter, fingers immediately making their way under your skirt.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“One last time.” you confirmed before kissing him again with even more passion.
“Fuck, you’re so wet.” he pulled down your underwear and began to lap at your cunt.
Your hands grasped at his now red hair, as your head fell back against the mirror with a gasp.
He knew you like the back of his hand and you were ashamed to reach your climax so fast as he worked your insides with precision and memory.
“Fuck.. Hee- Heeseung, I’m gonna cum.” you moaned out.
“Cum for me, pretty. You did so well,” he praised as he rubbed your clit.
The nickname and intensity of your orgasm did a number on you.
You felt lightheaded as he kissed you breathlessly before reaching into his pocket to pull out a condom.
‘Thank God, he got the message. One last time.’ you thought. It felt too intimate to let him fuck you raw.
Your fingers made light work of discarding his belt and jeans so you could pull his boxers down teasingly slowly.
“Baby, please..” he whined.
You slid off the counter and onto your knees, immediately taking him into your mouth.
Your muscles moved like clockwork, memory working overtime as you pushed his buttons the way he always loved.
“Not yet..” he whimpered.
He pulled your head off his dick and helped you stand up then bent you over the counter.
You watched in the mirror as he rolled the condom on and then rubbed his length on the slick of your release.
“Heeseung,” you whined as he nudged your clit with his tip.
“All in one?” he asked you.
You nodded.
He sheathed himself into you in one go.
Feeling as though you could cum then and there, you slumped onto the surface in front of you.
Heeseung grabbed your hair and forced you to watch him in the mirror.
Once you made eye contact, you became fully aware of the situation you were in.
You cried out as he slapped your ass before slamming into you from behind.
The moans leaving your lips and whines leaving his would be heard by everyone if the music wasn’t so loud.
He knew exactly what to do and you didn’t even have to tell him what pace to go at, he remembered.
“Hee! Right there.” you cried out. “R- Right there.”
“I’m so close.” he cried. “Shit..”
“Me too.” you held your hand out.
Heeseung grabbed your outstretched hand as you came together.
Silence overcame you both as he threw the condom into the bin and helped clean you up.
He tried to kiss you again.
You looked away.
It was clear that he had just cried but so had you.
The tension and emotion you had for each other was too strong.
“I’m sorry.” he croaked out. “I’m so sorry.”
Your arms pulled him into your embrace.
“It’s okay.”
He pulled back slightly and kissed you again.
This time it was light and if you weren’t paying attention, it would’ve felt as though he was never there.
You wiped his tears away before your own.
“Do you ever think about what life would be like for us, if things were different..?” he asked.
Someone burst into the room.
“You bitch!” Yunjin shouted at you.
It wasn’t hard to assume that you’d just had sex with the smell lingering in the room and the mirror fogged up.
“Huh?” you looked at Heeseung to explain.
“Wait, Yn- ”
You laughed in pain.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
You’d just helped him do what broke your heart in the first place.
Instead of sadness or anger you just felt done.
“We were just talking.” you lied.
You weren’t covering for him. You knew that he needed the closure as much as you did but ultimately you were trying to save your own skin.
Yunjin looked furious.
“You can have him.” she seethed. “I should’ve known that he’d never get over you. But I didn’t think that you’d try to get at him.”
“Girl, take him. He’s yours.” you put your hands up, signalling that you were finished with whatever was going on. “I had him in the first place, I don’t want him anymore.”
You felt bad talking about Heeseung like he was an object while he was right in front of you but you pushed that aside.
“No-!” she frowned.
“I don’t want him anyway,” you turned to leave. “Girl take him.”
Yunjin didn’t even try to fight it.
She seemed shocked that you’d given up so easily.
“Heeseung,” you started. “To answer your question, I did. But I learned not to expect much from you.”
Heeseung Lee wasn’t dead, but you no longer cared enough to wish he was.
THE END.
#heeseung angst#enhypen heeseung#heeseung smut#lee heeseung#enhypen hard hours#enhypen x reader#heeseung x reader#enhypen scenarios#heeseung scenarios#enhypen imagines#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen smut#enhypen x you#enhypen x female reader#enhypen hard thoughts#enha smut#enha x reader#enha scenarios#enha imagines#heeseung#heeseung hard hours#heeseung fanfic#heeseung imagines#enhypen angst
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trying to behave, but i'm feelin' some type of way - r.c
request: rafe x bitchy!pogue reader pleaseeeee!!!! he just hates that he wants her soo fucking bad and she finds it hilarioussss warnings: it gets steamy but no smut!; slutshaming; mean!rafe.
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you’re out of place here, which is exactly why you’re here, tannyhill.
fuck them. fuck him.
every high-strung kook princess with their perfectly manicured nails gives you a quick once-over, nostrils flaring when they catch the sight of your scuffed-up boots. not that you care. it’s not like you’re trying to impress anyone.
and why should you? you’re only here for the free booze, it’s not your fault this place is such a bore. always all pearls, pastels, and the scent of white wine and privilege. who the fuck drank white whine at a party? but the real reason you’re here, the whole damn reason, is staring straight at you from across the room.
rafe cameron. ugh and yum.
he’s leaning against the bar, muscles taut under that fitted navy polo like he was born to flex, with a scowl as always. it’s always that look—the one that’s aimed solely at you, every time he sees you. it’s practically a tradition by now. you show up somewhere, he glares.
there’s a tightness in his shoulders, something tells you he’s going to snap eventually, maybe it’s because you’ve been pushing buttons lately. maybe it’s because he’s got his daddy’s expectations hanging over his head like a guillotine.
or maybe it’s just because he wants you, and that little inconvenient truth pisses him off to no end.
you flash him a slow, lazy grin, shifting your hips as you grab a beer from the cooler. when you catch the way his eyes drag over you, lingering on your exposed skin, your stomach hums with satisfaction.
let him look. let him stew in it.
“country club,” you call sweetly, raising your bottle in a mock toast, the light catching on the condensation like it’s winking at him. “how’s it going?”
his jaw ticks, his lips pressing into a thin, flat line. “you shouldn’t be here.”
“and yet, here i am,” you sing-song back, taking a slow, pointed sip. you’re feeling reckless tonight. he’s dangerous, sure. but he’s also predictable. you know exactly how to make it worse. “aww, what’s wrong?”
you know exactly this’ll go. he’ll insult you, you’ll insult him back, and then—
his eyes narrow dangerously, that vein in his temple ticking. “what the fuck are you wearing?”
you blink innocently, glancing down at yourself. “clothes, obviously. why? does it bother you?”
“yeah,” he snaps, eyes raking over you again, lingering on the swell of your chest, the sliver of skin peeking out above your waistband. “aren’t you tired of slutting yourself around?”
your lips curl into a smirk, the slow burn of satisfaction warming your chest. this is exactly what you were hoping for.
“slutting myself around?” you echo, voice teasing. “didn’t know you were keeping tabs.” you cock your head, letting your gaze linger on his flushed cheeks, the way his nostrils flare, and that slight clench of his fists by his side.
he’s seething—looks ready to burst into flames right here in front of the bar. good.
he’s always been like this with you. short fuse, especially when it comes to what you’re wearing, how you look, where you go. but you’re onto him. you know what it’s really about.
“you must really be obsessed with me,” you continue, “it’s kinda weird, don’t you think?” you take another sip, slow and deliberate, licking your lips as you meet his glare. he steps closer, crowding into your space, his chest brushing against your shoulder. you should back up, or at least pretend to care, but you just tilt your head, looking up at him with a smug little grin. “what’s wrong?” you murmur, “feeling a little tense?
“fuck off,” he grits out, stepping back like he’s burned. but it’s too late. you’ve got him now.
you cock your head, giving him a slow, taunting smile. “why? afraid you’ll get hard in front of your little friends?”
his eyes darken, jaw clenched so hard you wonder if it hurts. “i swear to god—”
“what?” you interrupt, teeth flashing. “you gonna hit me? break another one of your daddy’s toys?” you wave your hand around the pristine room, the glittering chandelier, the polished bar. “go on, then. show everyone what a psycho you are.”
“you think i won’t?”
“yeah, i think you won’t,” you say softly, staring right into those burning blue eyes of his. “because you’re all bark and no bite.”
“you wanna see bite?” he murmurs, voice dripping venom. “i’ll show you fucking bite.”
then his hand snaps out, wrapping around your upper arm, and before you can react, he’s yanking you out of the room, down a hallway that’s all shadowed corners. you stumble, cursing under your breath, but he doesn’t stop until you’re both crashing through a side door into some empty back corridor.
“jesus, cameron, take a fucking xanax—” you start, wrenching your arm free.
for a second, you think you’ve gone too far. his whole body goes still, and something flares in his gaze—something unhinged and a little bit terrifying. but instead of snapping, instead of throwing a punch, he leans in, so close you can feel the heat of him against your skin.
you’re shoved against the wall, hard, his body caging yours in, his hands braced on either side of your head. you freeze, breath hitching. he’s close—too close—and it’s too hot and too much and—
“shut up,” he growls.
you should tell him to fuck off. you should knee him in the balls. you should do anything but feel the way you do right now—flushed, breathless, and…too horny for your own good.
“do you always have to be so fucking dramatic?” you huff, placing your hand in chest in a futile attempt to push him away. you know he can break you in half if he wants to.
he doesn’t move of course, just stares at you, chest heaving like he’s just run a marathon. he’s got that crazed look in his eyes that should make you run for the hills, and yet you stay put.
and then, suddenly, his mouth is on yours, demanding and angry.
it’s not a kiss—it’s a punishment. his teeth nip at your bottom lip, his tongue sliding against yours with a harshness that steals your breath. you gasp, your hands coming up to shove him away again, but somehow they get tangled in his hair instead, gripping the soft strands as he presses closer, closer— it’s a disaster. you’re a disaster. because you don’t pull away.
you kiss him back like an idiot, just as desperate, your nails digging into his scalp as you pour all your frustration into the kiss. why does he have to be this hot? in your books, kooks aren't allowed to be hotter than a 5. unfortunately, rafe is a solid eleven.
he tastes like mint and rage, and it shouldn’t feel this good, but it does. god, it does. he breaks away, panting, glaring down at you like you’re dirt under his shoes. “you drive me fucking insane, y’ know that?”
“good,” you gasp, licking your lips. “you deserve it.”
he laughs, a low, harsh sound. “you’re such a fucking bitch.”
“and you’re a spoiled, narcissistic asshole,” you snap back, shoving at his chest. he doesn’t even flinch, just glares harder, and it sends a thrill through your entire body. you’d never seen him like this, so unguarded and it was weirdly intoxicating.
“i should ruin you,” he murmurs, almost like he’s talking to himself. his hand comes up, fingers brushing your jaw, trailing down your throat. “make you beg.”
you keep your expression defiant. “you think you can?”
rafe smirks, slow and dangerous, and it makes something burst in your belly. “i know i can.”
his hand slides lower, fingertips brushing the hem of your top, and your breath catches. you should stop this again. you should slap him, kick him, do anything but let him keep touching you like that, but you don’t. you just stare up at him, heart racing.
“show me then.”
and then his hands are on you, yanking you forward, spinning you around. you gasp, palms slapping against the wall as he presses up behind you, his body solid against yours.
“you’re a fucking brat,” he growls, his mouth right against your ear. one of his hands comes up, fingers tangling in your hair, pulling just enough to make your back arch.
“and you’re obsessed with me,” you shoot back breathlessly, tilting your head to meet his gaze over your shoulder.
rafe’s grip tightens in your hair, hard enough to sting, and his lips brush your earlobe, “obsessed?” he repeats, like he can’t believe you had the fucking audacity to say it. “don’t flatter yourself, baby.”
but you feel the way his body presses against yours. your panties might be drenched but this man is just as hard. he’s close to you—so fucking close—you feel every ridge of him, and despite every insult he’s ever thrown your way, despite how much he claims to hate you, he’s here. the way he’s breathing tells you exactly what you need to know.
you twist against him, pushing back just enough to test his restraint. “then why are you so worked up, huh?”
“i think you’re confusing us.”
“sure,” you laugh, even as his hands move down your sides, his fingernails digging into your hips. “that’s why you dragged me out here, right? because you’re just so indifferent?”
his chest brushes against your back with every ragged breath. he’s losing it. you’re making him lose it. and fuck, that feels good.
“i could ruin you,” he whispers again, like he’s trying to convince himself. his hand skim up your ribs, thumb grazing the underside of your tit, and your senses kicks into overdrive. “one word from me, and you’re done.”
“you’re all talk cameron,” you challenge, arching your back slightly, giving him more room to touch you.
you shouldn’t want this—you shouldn’t need this—but you can’t stop.
his mouth is on your neck, hot and open, teeth scraping against your skin in a way that sends a shudder from your head to your toes.
“fuck you,” he growls against your throat, the words almost lost in the heat of his mouth. “i’m not playin’ your games.”
you bite back a moan, fingers curling against the cold wall. “you’re already playing.”
“you’re so fucking—” he cuts himself off, breathing harshly through his nose. “fuck, i hate you.”
“no, you don’t,” you turn your head just enough to catch his eye. his gaze is wild, and you smirk, taunting him with your lips just inches from his. “you wish you did.”
you know you’re pushing your luck, but then again, when haven’t you?
“you have no fucking clue what i wish,” he growls, each word dripping with so much frustration it makes you laugh.
it comes out like a soft, mocking sound. “ooh, i think i do. you wish i’d shut up. wish i’d disappear. but you really wish you didn’t get hard every time ’m around.”
his jaw ticks, that telltale sign that you’re getting to him. god, he hates you. you can see it in his clenched teeth, his furrowed brows. he hates that he wants a pogue and you find it hilarious.
“don’t flatter yourself pogue,” he snaps, but his voice is strained. his hands tighten on your hips, fingers biting into your skin just shy of painful.
you push back against him just a little harder again, feeling the rigid line of his cock pressed against your ass.
“yeah?” your voice turns breathy. “then why do i feel that?” you grind your hips subtly, just to punctuate the point, and the low sound that rumbles out of him is almost worth the risk of provoking him further.
“because you’re a fucking tease,” he mutters, voice harsh and low in your ear. “you show up, looking like you want it—”
“and so what if i do?”
it’s a dare. he’s holding you, like he can’t decide if he wants to strangle you or fuck you senseless, perhaps both. you know you’ve crossed some invisible line.
“you’re gonna regret this,” he murmurs.
“maybe,” you shoot back, unflinching. “but that’s the thing, rafe.” you twist, just enough to look at him over your shoulder, “i think you’re more scared of what you might regret.”
instead of shoving you away, instead of storming off, he does the one thing you didn’t expect. he laughs.
it’s that crazy sound he makes before he does something reckless every time, the kind that makes people run away. it’s such a humorless sound, it should scare the living shit out of you as he leans in, lips brushing against your neck. “don’t say i didn’t warn you.”
before you can answer, one hand slides up to cup your jaw, tilting your head back so you’re forced to meet his eyes. they’re wild, almost feral, just like you expected.
“tell me to stop,” he whispers, his thumb brushing your lower lip, the touch so gentle it’s almost jarring. “go on, say it.”
you swallow hard, pulse hammering in your throat. you should say it. but you don’t want to.
“make me.” you know he hears you—feels you—because the corner of his mouth lifts in a slow, taunting smirk.
“yeah?” he drawls, thumb slipping from your lip to trace along your jawline, his touch featherlight and maddening. “you sure?”
“prove me wrong. or are you scared?”
“you think ’m fucking scared of you? think i can’t handle a little mouthy brat like you?”
he’s goading you, pushing you like he always does, and every word you had prepared dies on your lips
“i’d loooove to see you try.”
“oh, you will.”
#rafe cameron#itneverendshere works✨#rafe cameron x reader#requested#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron au#rafe fic#rafe x pogue!reader#rafe cameron x pogue!reader#bitchy!pogue!reader#fluff with almost smut#not smut per se#bc i didn’t feel like writing more 💀#rafe x oc#rafe x y/n#rafe x you#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe x reader#rafe fanfiction#rafe imagine#rafe obx#obx rafe cameron#rafe cameron one shot#rafe one shot#rafe cameron fluff#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron outer banks#outerbanks rafe
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Not a request. Just wanted you to know that your TFP Shockwave fic reminds me of the song Nothing by Emilie Autumn.
It's about a Victorian Doctor who experiments on the women in his asylum but gets attached and obsessed with one. I thought you might like it. Love your work as always and I hope you are taking care of yourself. Happy Holidays 💜
Ooh that’s delightfully unsettling. He definitely has an obsession growing
Thundercracker is next up if I don’t get too busy.
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Point Of Extinction Pt 8
TFP Shockwave x Reader
• Head lowering, he watches you eat and his servos flex. Wanting to reach out as illogical as it is, wanting to find comfort in the warmth of you. To chase those daydreams of another life, another self that nag at him more insistently every day. Like the answers are right there, he just doesn’t know how to get to them. Because in those memories, there are answers that he needs. As confusing as you. Your emotions so mercurial he has trouble understanding them, but he wants to. Like this. Asking him if he’d like to share a meal even though neither of you can consume the other’s fuel. He doesn’t understand it, but he’d still agreed. Sipping his energon as his antenna flick every time you move where you’re sitting on his desk.
• You’re not sure why you’d bothered to ask him to eat with you except that he’d seemed more agitated than usual. Armor plating panels flared slightly to make you think of an upset cockatiel. Something you’re never admitting to him. And sitting with you, he’d calmed some. “Want to talk about it?” You ask, fidgeting as that single optic washes you in its red glow when he tips his head toward you. You don’t find him terrifying all the time anymore after what he’s done to the deer, but you can’t forget it either. It haunts your sleep sometimes, dreaming that you’re the one on the gurney. He’s not safe and he’s a bit unsettling even when you don’t think he’s trying to be, but you don’t think he wants to hurt you. But you could just be lying to yourself. “About whatever you were upset about?” You add since he’s still staring, antenna lowering.
• Why do you want to know? Looking for weakness to exploit? Head tipping as he tries to figure out your motivation, your shoulders hunch and you turn your attention back to your food with a mumbled ‘never mind.’ Or are you genuinely concerned about him? End of his cannon tapping gently against his thigh, he reaches to hook a servo around your middle and pull you around to face him, hearing your sharp inhale. “My experiments keep failing. They die.” And he can’t understand why. Something about organic life fighting being terraformed. Being fixed.
• Considering you’re also an experiment, that’s not exactly what you want to hear. He’s not hurt you, though. Still scans you regularly and makes notes, but whatever he’s subjecting his other lab animals to, you’ve been spared so far. You just don’t know why he saved you. “What exactly are you trying to do?” Because you don’t want it to be only that he’s that callous. That this is all for nothing other than macabre curiosity. There has to be a reason. Otherwise this is all just madness, barely leashed violence masquerading as science.
• Servos brushing your side, hooking against your neck to tilt your chin up, you catch at his servos with those little, soft hands. Frightened again even though he’s not trying to startle you. “Recreate home,” he says and your eyes widen. Can you understand how important this is? Or is it as elusive to you as understanding why he’d culled you from his experiments? Because sometimes he thinks the answer to unraveling his past lies in you. He’s just not sure if the only way to get to it is to take you apart piece by piece.
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speed
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chris sturniolo x singer! reader
warnings: smuttt, fingering, oral (male receiving), no actual p in v
a/n: this is for @annamcdonalds67 ‘s writing challenge !! hope you enjoy <33
la da da da
da da da
the crowd went crazy after hearing only the first few chords of the unreleased song that i’d been teasing for weeks.
considering the fact that they’d never heard the full song, i found it funny how many people genuinely loved the song.
if i told you how much i think about her
you’d think i was in love
i looked out to the sea of people in front of me, growing slightly nervous at the thought of every single one of their attention being on me.
i had definitely performed before, but never in front of a crowd of people this large.
and if you knew how much i looked at her pictures
you would think we’re best friends
my nerves eased a little when i actually looked at the crowd. my eyes bounced from person to person, seeing bright smiles, tears of happiness, and people singing along.
deciding to pretend as though i wasn’t singing in front of an insane amount of people, i let myself enjoy the song.
as the words flew past my mouth and into the microphone, i thought about how excited chris was when i first played the song for him.
right before i got to the chorus, i looked over to the VIP section, immediately catching his gaze.
CHRIS’S POV
when i caught her gaze, there seemed to be a glint of something in her eyes, but i couldn’t pinpoint what it was.
although her face held a sweet smile, i could tell she was about to do something that would have me struggling to contain myself.
i’m starin’ at her like i wanna get hurt
and i remember every detail you have ever told me
so be careful, baby
she began to jump around on stage, her energy and happiness becoming contagious as everyone around her seemed to bask in it.
any nerves that she may have had at the beginning of the song easily washed away as she sang.
i’m so obsessed with your ex
yeah, i’m so obsessed with your ex
her hair bounced on her shoulders as she moved her head to the beat. she looked majestic, the stage lights giving her body a soft glow.
she’s got those lips, she’s got those hips
the life of every fucking party
it was almost as those she was singing about herself, her hands running up and down her body, my eyes following them.
the confidence she had was evident in her stage presence, making her seem all the more attractive.
she laid on the ground on her side, running her hands down her body while she danced seductively on the floor.
there was something so enticing about it, she made such a simple action look so alluring.
she made her way through the song, the adrenaline seeming to course through her as she bounced around on the stage.
she showed the love and passion that she had for music through a wide smile, her eyes shut as she soaked every moment in.
the further she got into her set, the hornier i got. i tried to stop myself, but my mind was consumed with the things i could do to her in her dressing room. i just needed ten minutes.
her tight skirt inched up her legs slightly with every jump, causing the curve of her ass cheek to peak out.
her low-cut top gave the perfect view her cleavage, the pendant of her gold necklace hanging just above where her tits met.
at this point, i was so hard that i was genuinely in pain. luckily for me, all eyes were on y/n, i didn’t have to worry about anyone noticing my raging hard-on.
“hi everyone!” i heard her speak into the mic, making my head whip up to her direction.
“i hope you guys are enjoying the show so far!” she was met with a roar of applause in response, causing her to let out a light chuckle.
“we’re going to take a brief, ten minute intermission, so go to the bar and grab a drink or snack, and we’ll be back soon!” she spoke, giving a light wave before walking off of the stage.
looks like i got my ten minutes.
“going to the bathroom!” i yelled out to nick and matt, bringing a hand down to cover my crotch as i sped walked to the backstage area.
i flashed the security guard my backstage pass before rushing to y/n’s dressing room.
i knocked on the door loudly, waiting to hear her answer before opening the door.
“oh, chris!” she spoke as i closed and locked the door behind me.
she rushed over to me, a bright smile on her face as she wrapped her arms around my neck.
“i’m so fucking proud of you, baby. you’re so good out there” i spoke into her neck, pressing slow kisses to her neck.
she tilted her head to the side, letting out a small sigh as her fingers slid up to my hair to pull on the brown strands.
“such a good girl for me” i sighed into her neck, “you deserve all of the love” i spoke against her skin.
i moved my head to her chest, leaving kisses to the exposed skin.
her hand quickly found my crotch, beginning to palm me through my pants. “want some help with that?” she asked me.
“i- yes, please” i spoke, my breathing picking up as she sunk onto her knees in front of me.
she pulled my pants and boxers down with one tug, wrapping her hands around my thighs as she licked up the small bit of pre-cum that leaked out of my tip.
she swirled her tongue around it before taking me into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks.
“fuck” i moaned, my hand finding its way to the back of her head.
i attempted to control myself, refraining from moving my hips.
she momentarily pulled her mouth off of me to say, “c’mon baby, fuck my mouth” before moving to take me fully into her mouth again.
i did as she said, beginning to buck my hips into her mouth, holding her head steady.
she glanced up at me through her lashes, eyes filling with unshed tears as i pushed myself in and out of her warm mouth.
i stared down at her tits, watching as they bounced harshly from the force of my hips against her body.
when she caught my gaze, she pulled the straps to her top down to expose her boobs to me.
“oh my god, yes. feels so good” i groaned out when her nose hit my pubic bone, her head shaking side to side.
there was a sudden knock on the door behind me, catching me by surprise as she continued to suck me off.
“5 minutes until you’re on!” a voice said, leaving as quickly as it came.
i watched as her hand disappeared under her skirt, causing her to begin to moan around me.
i could hear the wet sounds of her fingers inside of her pussy, my head flying back at the thoughts running through my head.
i twitched inside of her mouth, causing her to pull away from me. her mouth remained connected to me by a long string of spit while she began to twist her hand around my length.
“ come on chris, you gonna cum for me? all over my tits?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at me.
i was only able to nod my head as my eyes rolled back, thick ropes of my cum flying onto her chest.
she stood up onto her feet, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she grinned at me.
without another word, i turned us around so that her back was facing the door.
i hooked a hand under one of her knees, lifting it up with one hand, the other finding its way under her dress.
“let me return the favor” i spoke as i moved her panties to the side and pushed two fingers into her entrance.
“fuck, chris” she squeaked as her mouth hung open, her head falling back into the door.
her tight walls squeezed around my fingers, clamping down onto them.
there was a pounding on the door behind her, making her let out a yelp in surprise.
i covered her mouth with my hand, while she moaned into it, gripping my forearm harshly.
“2 minutes !” the voice yelled through the door.
she pushed her hips down to meet my movements, desperately chasing her orgasm.
i circled my thumb around her clit, enjoying the way she shuddered under my touch.
her head fell forward onto my shoulder, while her fingers threaded through my hair. she tugged on it harshly, eliciting a deep groan from me.
“you close baby?” i asked as she began to clench around my fingers again.
“yes, please let me cum. i’m so close, chris” she moaned out as her face scrunched up in pleasure.
“let go, princess. make a mess on my fingers”
she looked so pretty like this, her messy makeup running down her blissed-out face.
her legs began to shake, hips jerking up involuntarily and her back arching off of the door.
she let out one last cry of my name before letting go, coating my fingers in her pleasure.
“here, let’s get you cleaned up” i spoke, wiping away the smudged makeup on her cheeks.
i helped her fix herself up, before doing the same for myself.
once we deemed ourselves presentable, i opened the door. i was met with a member of the stage crew, who seemed to be preparing to knock on the door.
he gave us a knowing look before speaking, “you two couldn’t have waited until after the show?”
the two of us glanced at each other, giving the man blank stares.
“you” he pointed to y/n, “need to go get your makeup touched up” he spoke, waving over her makeup artist.
“and you” he pointed to me, “need to go back to your seat. stay away from her until after the show, got it?” he asked as he placed his hands on my shoulders, turning me towards the direction i originally came from.
when i tuned back to look at y/n she was already getting whisked away by her makeup artist.
i made my way back to my seat, meeting my brothers’ gaze. “so, you enjoy your bathroom break?” nick asked, brows raised.
“yeah, it was fine” i spoke, keeping my eyes forward to avoid his gaze.
“really? cause you just came from the opposite direction of the bathroom” matt pointed out.
before i could say anything in response, the crowd broke into a round of loud applause.
i watched y/n walk on stage, lightly smirking at the way her legs lightly shook with each step.
“so subtlety just isn’t your thing, huh?” nick asked.
“never was going for subtlety, just speed”
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/36aca04b2da33b3336b8f5fd516d971e/592bbeb48e96ea3d-98/s540x810/ef9a8175211b400472305065923de1386bc7395c.jpg)
collide (matt version)
masterlist
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Rewatching Falsettos I was suddenly struck by an epiphany that I’m sure someone else has had at some point, but I needed to write out. This ending scene from “March of the Falsettos” jumped out at me from the first watching, but even though I recognised the nod to the “See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil (and lesser known do no evil)”, I didn’t know what it meant. Today, I tried to piece it together, and I think I’ve gotten it. These poses represent core attributes of the characters, as well as Trina’s view of them, so click the read more to hear the ravings of a mad man wayyyyyy too obsessed with this show
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/673aa32d149436e20dbbfeb923e2414c/fa83e742b9d26607-41/s540x810/7df54637f9a902e65506ec8447cc9c783715d717.jpg)
The idea of ‘evil’ to me is very loose. It can represent a lot of things for these characters; their actions towards each other, their character flaws, etc. But, for this analysis, one can replace ‘evil’ with ‘truth’. Each of the characters refuses to see, speak, hear, or ‘do’ the truth (please excuse the lack of grammar for that last one), and that is where the ‘evil’ stems from. Taking into account this is mostly based on Trina’s view of the men, I think ‘truth’ fits in well.
Let’s start with the one who fits in least— Jason. “March of the Falsettos” is a physical manifestation of how Trina views the men in her life (as childish and immature), but some slack is given to her son. He doesn’t sing his lines in falsetto, because we acknowledge he is in fact a child, and has more of an excuse to act as such. So, take his analysis with a grain of salt. The boy has every right to be a little selfish— he’s 10.
So, Jason has his hands over his eyes, representing ‘See No Evil’. This is a direct nod to his character flaw; his view of the world with him at the center. Although his parents are less than good to him, he still sees them through unfair lenses— ‘My mother’s no wife/My father’s no man’. He sings ‘everybody’s yelling and everybody’s ruining it’ in “Everyone Hates His Parents” because he is unhappy with how his Bar Mitzvah is turning out and wants to simply cancel it. He doesn’t have a concept of doing things for other people (again, he’s a child, I’m not blaming him per se), so he is blind to the will of others and refuses to see their side. In addition to this, even when Mendel tells him Whizzer will most likely die, Jason pleads with G-d to save him. He still views himself as the center of his world, thus Mendel’s line ‘Life’s not all about him’.
In addition to this, his ‘See No Evil’ means something when thought about from Trina’s perspective. She thinks her son is blind to the truth of the world, this son who stays inside playing chess alone, this son who ‘seems like an idiot to [Trina]’. She worries Jason will turn out like these other men in her world, blind to everyone but himself.
Now we come to Mendel, who has his hand over his mouth in ‘Speak No Evil’. Mendel’s flaw throughout the show is his refusal to accept the truth of any situation. He tells Jason to ‘feel alright for the rest of your life’ instead of actually trying to help, he is ‘frightened of questions’, he repeats over and over ‘I’ll make you well’ to Whizzer in the hospital. He will never say anything negative, nor will he allow others to do so. Even in the end of the show, he tells Jason they don’t know ‘when or if’ Whizzer will get better— he is still not accepting that it’s a definite thing. He believes that if he and those around him just don’t speak about the real problems, they’ll go away.
Trina’s view on Mendel is complicated here. In the next song she agrees to marry him, of course, and we know she at least likes him (the most of all three adults she knows). She says that Mendel ‘decides the role to assume’. She looks down on the fact that he can’t speak the truth to her, that he’s expecting this happy wife, this perfect new family. He wants her to play along with him and make their home together, even if she sings ‘liking our lives’ instead of loving. Even if he’s better than Marvin ever was, there’s still an element of control here. Mendel wants this family, and he wants them to all pretend nothing is ever wrong again.
Marvin, our titular character, is in the ‘Hear No Evil’ position. This one is fairly straight forward— he wants control and will never listen to the needs of those around him. He can’t hear what they actually need, he simply does what he wants. He also struggles with his masculinity throughout Act 1, his outward misogyny and need for the nuclear family (his treatment of Trina and Whizzer), so he imagines himself at the top of his family system. He will never take any other opinions, or counsel, in his decisions, seeing that as weakness. He’s similar to Jason in this regard, as he only hears what he wants to (like Jason only sees what he wants). He ignores the pain around him to pursue his own desires, he covers his ears and moves on.
Trina, of course, despises Marvin at this point in the show. Her subconscious showing Marvin in ‘Hear No Evil’ can tell us a lot about their relationship, how she was never seen as equal in decisions. Marvin always put her to the side, not listening to her needs, acting without thinking of her.
Whizzer is complicated. I’ve seen people laugh at his pose before, saying we’ve got ‘See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil, and Gay’, but I think he represents the ‘Do No Evil’. This final character is not often seen with the other three, and can be depicted with arms over the chest or covering the genitals. It wouldn’t make sense to have Whizzer be the outlier (especially because the fourth depiction of evil does exist), so I’m assuming he is supposed to be ‘Do No Evil’.
This fits in well with Whizzer’s flaws throughout the show. He doesn’t accept responsibility for his relationship with Marvin; seen in the lines ‘I’m not responsible’ during “Late For Dinner” or ‘I will not accept blame’ in “Games I Play”. He sleeps around, despite Marvin wanting monogamy, and clearly did not have an issue hooking up with a married man. Whizzer fundamentally doesn’t think his actions have consequences, he believes he has done nothing wrong (he has done no evil). Whizzer also has a hard time admitting to his love for Marvin. He says it ‘depends on the day’, he flat out says ‘no’ when asked if he loves him. He doesn’t want to show his love for fear of being too vulnerable, so he hides and doesn’t do anything about it.
To take this even further, him being ‘Do No Evil’ can represent his later question of ‘why me of all men’ when he is dying. He hasn’t done anything to deserve his death, and ‘all men get what they deserve’, right?
Moving on to how Trina sees Whizzer. He’s come into her life and ruined her marriage, though she ‘wants to hate him’ she can’t. She views him as the cause of her recent hardships, his actions being to blame. He is ‘Do No Evil’ to her because he has done evil in taking Marvin away (though it is obvious Trina is better off because of it). He has upset the careful balance of her world by breaking down the lies of her marriage and exposing the truth— Marvin never loved her, could never love her. She puts him in ‘Do No Evil’ because what he has done is what the rest of the men won’t— see, hear, speak the truth even at the detriment of her family.
Another way to view this is, of course, the fact that ‘Do No Evil’ is rarely seen with the others. Trina is separating Whizzer from the other men, not putting him in the same category as the rest of the ‘family’. He views himself as an outsider as well, yes he’s part of the group, but only as a technicality. Only as Marvin’s lover. Once he leaves Marvin, he is easily taken out of the equation and the remaining three do not feel the loss.
My conclusion is such: Each of the poses our men do represents the character flaw they must overcome throughout the show, as well as how Trina views them in her mind. I really hope this made any sort of sense, and if someone has already said all of this well… I guess it can’t hurt to be thorough.
I’m way too tired to read through this again so if there are spelling mistakes please print out this post, correct it in red pen, and send it to me by carrier pigeon.
#falsettos#falsettos analysis#jason falsettos#marvin falsettos#the marvin trilogy#whizzer falsettos#whizzer brown#mendel falsettos#mendel weisenbachfeld#trina falsettos#march of the falsettos
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Evening Mr. Flansburgh!
I am an aspiring musician! I really want to create my own songs, but since I'm an absolute beginner starting from the ground up, I am soul-crushingly daunted by which skill I should focus on learning first, especially with the amount of resources available to me online (Singing? Lyric writing? Learning a particular instrument? Mixing? Music Theory? etc).
Do you remember what skill(s) you focused on doing first when you were just getting into music, or have any recommendations about the order to do then in?
Much appreciated!
JF: reflecting on it, my experience was extremely organic, slow-evolving and combined so many of my interests and obsessions I am not sure it is necessarily that universal. (For instance I was kinda obsessed with recorded sound before I started writing and recording songs on a tape recorder, which I did for a couple of YEARS before I ever played in front of another human being). So I came to writing songs with some extra skills that actually facilitated my earliest efforts.
An art history professor of mine said "Art is foisting your obsessions on the world" and I think he was right. Another art professor of mine said if you embark on a dozen creative projects, the odds of creating an inspired one greatly increases over simply working on one. I think this is very good advice, and is echoed by a lot of folks writing about the nature of creativity.
If you can't play chords, or move your hands around a keyboard or a fretboard fast enough to play a chord progression, saddle up to a screen with a movie and practice scales so your fingers get stronger. Do it everyday for some time. Then practice toggling back and forth between two chords as quickly as possible. Get a metronome. You know why!
Yes, a song is exactly the confected thing your mentioned in your request--it's a lyric, a melody, a progression, a beat, an evolving musical notion. But those parts are often created at separate times and simply smushed together. It doesn't have to be done in one go, and if the whole enterprise seems odd, or your skill set is underdeveloped in one way or another, assembling a song from the various moving elements might be an easier way to approach it.
(also a couple of days ago someone was asking about singing and I pointed at a few ideas there--essentially taking advantage of these free online vocal warm up videos)
I think you should gather a small clutch of tools--a tape recorder or a DAW that is simple enough to master quickly--there are multitrack recording apps that you can install on your phone that are intuitive. A couple of instruments-a guitar or keyboard, maybe an auto harp.
Find a place to work where you can make noise and not be heard.
I think you should start writing in a physical notebook where you can write down your ideas and revisit them. I wouldn't do it on a computer. It's slow writing, and the screen just creates distractions.
Write a bunch of lyrics without trying to write music: Make one about you but write it like it's about someone else, one about someone else's experience but sing it first person, write one about a group of people. Be positive. Be negative. Be regretful. Be optimistic. Express anger. Be as extreme as you can stand. Experiment in writing in every mode you can think of. Here somebody would write "express your own ideas", but ALL of your ideas will be your own! You are making choices based on musical notions that inspired you, but what comes out of you will almost certainly be different enough, and if it's too close to something else, shimmy it around so it isn't distracting! Write a few chord progressions. (A two chord progression that just sounds interesting going back and forth. A four chord progression. Make a beat, or find a beat online, and write a bass line or just a sequence of single notes on a keyboard or guitar to make a pleasant, evolving line. And see if you can write a "song" or two with a two or four chord verse, and a chorus that is a different chord progression.) Write it down and revisit it! Record it slow. You might want to speed it up later when it's "under your fingers."
Pretty soon you will have all the component of what you need to put lyrics to music. You can also try just singing lyrics over a beat, and then figure out the chords underneath AFTER you have a notion of a melody.
That's enough free advice. Go write some songs!
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all of the girls you loved before- e.m
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader
Summary: the one where eddie runs into his first love, leaving you to question your relationship in the aftermath. loosely based on the taylor swift song with the same title.
Warnings: angst, crying, jealousy, insecurity, eddie being rude unintentionally, cursing, pda (gross), eddie and reader are a few years out of high school, fluff, happy ending
Word Count: 4.8k
Request?: No
A/N: hello again everyone, its been a minute! since i’ve been gone, i’ve entered my swiftie era (not like crazy obsessed but def a fan of the music) and this gem of a song dropped and plucked some inspiration from me, so here is a new one shot for you all! enjoy! -sava
The haze within the hot open room of the Hideout was starting to dissipate, the crowd exiting the venue one by one as the band you’ve been cheering on from your spot at the bar begins clearing the stage of their equipment. The ringing in your ears has yet to go away, getting so lost in the metal music that you didn’t care if it would bite you in the ass at work tomorrow, you’d find a way to take customers orders at the diner, even if they had to scream in order for you to understand.
You found yourself sitting at the same spot at the Hideout every Tuesday night to cheer your boyfriend and his band members on. Within the years since graduating high school, the town you called home started coming around to the type of music your boyfriend played, despite ridiculing him for years prior to their own revelations. With the new popularity, Tuesday nights at the Hideout have gone from 5 drunks sitting in the back to almost a packed house every week, begging for encores and autographs at the end of each show. It made you happy seeing your boyfriend celebrated in such a way, having been there for him in his lowest points when the tables were turned. Now you bask in his glory like never before, cheering him on alongside the rest of the town.
Paying your tab, you begin walking towards the back stage area when you see a tall lanky man with long luscious curls make his way over to you, his smile wide as his signature dimples poked into the sides of his cheeks. He extends his arms wide, not caring if he gets in anyones way as he greets you. Taking off in a run, you launch yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist as he catches you, hands making contact with your ass in a not-so-subtle way. You pull away and look at him momentarily before pressing your lips to his.
You take in his scent as your mouths move together as one, the sweaty smell that was no match for masking with his cheap cologne filling your nostrils, but you didn’t mind one bit. You part away from his lips, looking at the deep chocolate irises that you love seeing on a daily basis before running a hand through his sweaty mop of curls. He sets you down and plays with his bangs, moving them to the side as they desperately try to cling to his damp forehead.
“You guys killed it tonight,” you tell him, pulling him in for another hug. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his side and twisting his upper body and leaning down to press a kiss to your hair before flashing a closed mouth smile at you.
“Couldn’t have done it without my number one fan,” he says, cupping your cheek with his large calloused hand and placing yet another kiss to your body, this time directed at your forehead.
“So I was thinking that maybe tonight we go back to my apartment and watch some movies? I know we usually go bother my coworkers at the diner after your show but I kind of just want some you and me time,” you tell him with a smile.
“That sounds even better than going to the diner. I bet you’ve already picked out a selection of movies.” “You know me so well. I rented Halloween, Nightmare on Elm St-“
“Eddie? Eddie Munson?” a feminine voice calls out from behind you. You and Eddie turn around, watching a slim figure approach you with a bashful look plastered on her face. As she got closer, you noticed she was wearing a short black leather skirt and a bright pink top, barely leaving anything to the imagination with the amount of cleavage she was showing. Her hair was long and straight, looking silky to the touch as her skin glowed under the colorful stage lights that were still on. Who the hell is this, and how did she know Eddie?
Eddie squints his eyes as she approaches the two of you, his face relaxing and the smile growing wider than you’ve ever seen it when he finally makes out her features. You won’t deny the twinge you feel in your chest as you watch him drop your hand and give the mysterious woman a big embrace, bigger than the one he gave you moments ago.
“Holy shit! How are you? I haven’t seen you in forever,” Eddie exclaims, breaking away and tucking his hands under his armpits.
“M’good! Just finished up college not too long ago so I came back to Hawkins while I search for something a little more permanent,” she tells him, her timid demeanor going out the window as you watch the two grow comfortable with one another. “I see things at the Hideout have changed since we went to high school not too long ago.”
“Yeah, they sure have,” Eddie chuckles, kicking one of his feet out as he looks down. “Looks like the people in this shit town have finally come around when it comes to listening to good music.”
As you watch the interactions from person to person unfold in front of you, you feel the familiar tickle in your nose begin, hoping and praying that you won’t be noticeable if you aren’t able to get rid of the impending sneeze.
“Achoo!” You exclaim, bending down and hiding your nose in the crook of your elbow, silently yelling at yourself when you watch both pairs of eyes land on you.
“Bless you,” the mystery woman says with a smile. You nod, taking a step forward to try and join in on the conversation.
“Thank you,” you tell her, extending your hand. “I’m Y/N by the way, Eddie’s girlfriend.”
You watch Eddie nod as she takes your hand, shaking it firmly. “I’m Heather.”
Suddenly you feel your brain catching up with the rest of the world, clicking into place once the name leaves her mouth. This was the Heather you’d heard so much about from Eddie’s friends. The same Heather that just so happened to be his first love, capturing his heart in ways you wish you could’ve done yourself. If only you’d moved to Hawkins earlier in your high school career compared to your senior year, a.k.a Eddie’s second attempt at being a senior.
The members of the Hellfire Club gave you all the details that you needed to know about Heather: that she was Eddie’s first everything. First date, first love, first time, and eventually, his first heartbreak. The two were smitten with one another when no one else wanted to look Eddie’s way, with all the judgy classmates questioning why they were together in the first place. They didn’t see Eddie for who he truly was, they only ever judged him based on his outer appearance. The same goes for Heather: everyone always questioned why someone as hot as her would settle for someone like Eddie, which always made you upset to hear.
“It’s really nice to meet you Heather. I’ve heard a lot about you,” you tell her, trying your best to sound as sincere as possible. Eddie shoots you a look, silently telling you to stop, which makes your heart drop a bit. Adverting your eyes from him, you look back at Heather, who didn’t miss the interaction.
“All good things I hope,” she jokes.
“Are you kidding? Of course all good things. I can only hope you extended the same courtesy for me, if you did tell your college friends about me,” he says, rushing the last part out. Was he getting nervous?
“I can assure you that I did. Even after the way things ended…” she says, looking down to the ground as her sentence trails off. You can sense the tension in the air, feeling as if you’re causing the vibe of the conversation to shift a bit. Masking your feelings with a smile, you turn to them and excuse yourself, lying about needing to use the restroom before heading out for the night. Holding the curtain to the side, you enter the backstage area and round a counter towards an empty hallway you know nobody ever comes down after the shows, as you and Eddie have had your share of moments in this very spot, both PG and R rated moments.
As the secluded feeling sinks in, you feel the confidence and happiness that filled your body just moments ago begin to evaporate, vanishing into thin air as you replay the last few minutes in your head. His big smile when he saw her, the big and warm embrace, the look he gave you when you nudged your way into the conversation. It made you want to shrink into yourself. Jealousy was never something you were known for having, usually being more focused on the moment at hand and knowing the security you had with the relationships you had with the people around you.
But the history between Eddie and Heather changed that.
When you first heard about Heather, you didn’t pay much attention to it because you knew that was his past. He told you numerous times that he loves you and loves being with you, and it made you confident in the strength of your relationship. But knowing how strong those feelings he had for Heather and seeing her interact with him in real time, it changed things. He was a different man from the one he was in high school, having graduated and making a name for himself with the music he loves performing. And now that Heather is back in Hawkins for a while, it makes you wonder what could happen between the two of them.
Would they be able to reconcile? It didn’t look like there were any harsh feelings anymore, so maybe making up was still an option for them. What if Eddie wanted to revisit his past and be with the girl he loved before you came into his life? Was the love he had for her stronger than the love he has for you?
You could feel yourself being to spiral, your arms wrapping around your body and hugging on tight. Your breathing was starting to become jagged and unsteady, trying your best to take deep breaths slowly to get yourself to calm down. Thinking the worst was always such an easy solution for you, because preparing for the worst and not being shocked by the disappointment that lies ahead was better than being blind to the impending doom.
Once you feel yourself becoming calmer, you exit the hallway and walk towards the curtain once again, hesitating and stopping in your tracks. Peeking your head out, you can see the two of them still talking, Eddie throwing his head back in laughter as the two share a funny moment with one another, making your heartache grow. Retreating back behind the curtain, you turn and see Gareth walking your way, a smug look on his face before contorting into a welcoming smile.
“Hey Y/N! Glad to see you made it out tonight, even though I know you’re in the audience every Tuesday,” he says, wrapping his arms around you. You give him a quick hug, pulling away and failing to mask the hurt as you see his demeanor change. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah! Yeah, everything is fine…it’s just, Heather is here tonight. She came up to Eddie and I and started talking with him and catching up-“
“Wait, Heather Heather?” Gareth asks before poking his head out of the curtain. “Holy shit! I had no idea she was back in town. Still looks as hot as ever.”
Pretending to ignore that, you let out a sigh and tap him on the shoulder. Gareth turns to you, lifting a brow.
“Can you make out what her and Eddie are talking about? I think I sort of killed their vibe earlier and now it looks like things are picking up now that I’m not there.”
“Yeah, hang on one second,” he tells you before disappearing behind the curtain. As much as you appreciate Gareth helping, you were more scared to know how the conversation is going. With all the possibilities that were swirling around in your head, it was just getting fogged up with negativity that you were not expecting this evening and you hated going to such a low place.
A moment later, Gareth pops back from the other side of the curtain with a neutral expression, which worries you more than it should. You raise your eyebrows at him, bracing yourself for whatever news that he was about to deliver.
“So I used the gig as an excuse to talk with them and told Eddie that we were almost done loading the equipment up, which is true, and he said he’d be back here in a minute. But as I was walking away, I heard Heather mention how they should catch up another time over coffee and when I looked back, she was writing her number down on a napkin for him,” he explains.
Somehow the news hurts you more than you imagined it would. With their plans on the horizon sometime soon, it made the insecurities rise once again. You knew how special someone’s first love could be because Eddie was that for you. Before moving to Hawkins, you had your fair share of dating but none that meant much to you compared to the feelings your harbor for Eddie. Knowing that he already experienced that with someone else didn’t bother you until that person had to show up right there in front of you. A majority of these worries and doubts reside in your head, you’re aware of that, but it almost feels as if there is going to be a choice he is going to make, and it isn’t looking good for your side.
You can feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, unable to hide the frown that resides on your lips as you process what Gareth told you. Looking at him, you flash him a sad smile before wiping away at your bottom lash line, a half-baked attempt to get rid of the tears. He rests a hand on your shoulder, ducking his head down to try and make eye contact with you.
“Hey, don’t get sad, okay? Heather is just Eddie’s past, but you’re his present and his future. You don’t have anything to worry about,” he tries to reassure you.
“Yeah, you might be right,” you tell him before meeting his gaze and making eye contact. “But you didn’t see the way he looked at her. The way he smiled at her, the way he held her. On top of that, the way he looked at me when I talked to her. I’m worried that I actually do have something to worry about,” you explain.
Now it was Gareth’s turn to frown, breaking the eye contact and staring at the floor below. He should know better than anyone how Eddie felt about Heather all those years ago and it doesn’t just go away overnight.
“I think I should go. I’m going to sneak around the other way…will-will you tell Eddie I wasn’t feeling good or something? If you can think of a good excuse, just use it, because my brain is fogged up right now and I can’t think of any,” you ask. Gareth nods, sending a sad smile your way before you disappear behind more curtains as you make your way around the stage to exit through the front doors unnoticed.
—————————————————————————————————————
It’s been three days since you’ve last seen Eddie.
Clocking out of your shift at the diner, you sigh as you realize its your usual date night with Eddie, yet haven’t heard a word from him since the awkward encounter with his ex at the Hideout. To say the silence has hurt you would be an understatement, as you wait by the phone any chance you’re home hoping he will call. He always makes it a point to call you at the end of each day when he knows you both are already off work, catching up on each others days and talking for hours before falling asleep.
Now you’re going home alone for the fourth night in a row, wasting away as you prepare yourself for when Eddie does eventually call you to break things off, telling you he wants to try things with Heather again while she is in town and rekindle the blissful and naive love they once held in their hearts for one another.
Tossing your jacket on the back of one of the chairs at your kitchen table, you let out a sigh as you begin making your way to your bedroom and undressing your uniform. Quickly, you change into a comfortable band t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts, tossing your dirty uniform in your laundry basket before going back to the kitchen. Opening your fridge, you spot the bottle of wine you have been eyeing every day after work this week. The delicious red teasing you and wanting you to indulge in the sweet liquid to cope with the impending end of your relationship.
“Fuck it,” you mutter to yourself, before grasping the bottle and twisting the cap open. Opening the cabinet above, you grab the first wine glass you see and take it out, pouring the wine in until it gets close the the rim. You take hold of the glass and make your way over to your couch, bringing the glass to your lips and letting the wine travel down your throat with ease.
Before you’re able to bask in the taste, you hear your doorbell ring throughout your apartment. With a puzzled expression, you set the glass of wine down on your coffee table and make your way back to the front door, sliding the peep hold cover to the side to get a look at just who could be outside. Rolling your eyes, you take a deep breath before opening the door, standing face to face with the man who owns your heart. At least, for the next few minutes.
“Hey sweetheart,” he says with a smile.
“What are you doing here?” You ask straight out of the gate.
“Good to see you too,” he says, raising his eyebrows and looking down at the pizza box resting in his hands for a moment. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted to do for date night tonight, so I just took it as an opportunity to plan an evening of pizza, movies, and indulging in the new weed I got from Rick yesterday.”
“I just thought we weren’t going to do date night this week since I hadn’t heard from you,” you say.
“Sorry sweetheart, that is my bad.” He tells you as he makes his way inside your apartment. He sets the pizza on the kitchen table and opens the fridge and pulls a beer out. “I’ve been extremely busy this week with work, band practice, and…uh, well…”
“Heather?” You question, closing the door and resting your back against it as you bring your arms to cross in front of your chest. He stills for a moment, frozen in place as silence falls over the apartment unit. Turning to you, he raises his eyebrows while biting his lip, his physical look of guilt showing front and center. Trying your best to remain stoic, you quirk a brow at him, keeping your position at the door as you wait for an explanation.
“How, uh…how’d you know about that?” He finally asks after several minutes of silence.
“Gareth told me before I left on Tuesday. Said he overheard her giving you her number,” you answer plainly.
Another beat of silence falls throughout the room. Eddie’s attention is on the floor below him, kicking his feet as he digs his hands into the pockets of his black jeans and forgetting about the beer he was excited about enjoying. You find your eyes diverting to the ground as well, finding it hard to look over at your favorite metalhead. Mentally preparing yourself for the ache to grow, you finally let out a deep sigh, your hand coming up to rub at your forehead before you work up the courage to look at him again.
“Look, if you came all this way to let me down gently with pizza and weed, you can just save yourself the trouble. I’ve already spent the past few days preparing for this, so lets just call it what it is and go on about our lives, okay?” You muster out, feeling your throat close up and voice waver towards the end. You shut your mouth, turning your head as you feel your bottom lip begin to quiver. Opening the door, you step to the side and remain silent, not trusting yourself to speak anymore. You can’t breakdown in front of him, not when he’s choosing another girl over you.
You hear his heavy footsteps grow closer to you, stopping right before your figure. Your eyes are planted to the floor, seeing his stark white Reeboks enter your vision before leaving once again. Suddenly, you feel his hand lay on top of the one holding the handle to the front door, guiding it to a close and stepping to the side.
“I’m not breaking up with you,” he reveals.
You whip your neck in the direction he moved to, seeing the sad expression on his face as his big brown cow eyes look into yours. Part of you was hesitant to question him about it, not wanting his mind to change in a matter of seconds and leave you in a puddle of sadness afterall. But the more logical part of your brain wanted answers. Why did he not bother calling you for days but thought it was okay to hang out with his ex? Why didn’t he confess earlier about seeing her around? Why was he acting so strange at the Hideout, and why didn’t he want you talking to her?
“What?”
“I said I’m not breaking up with you, sweetheart. Why was that even a thought that popped into your head?” He asks, his voice level and sweet. He takes a step closer to you, filling the small gap that had separated you moments ago before slowly extending an arm out to you, cupping your cheek in his hand and rubbing the pad of his thumb across the soft skin.
“I don’t know…” you finally answer, the lack of confidence in your voice giving you away as your sentence trails off.
“C’mon, I know you had to think that somehow. I won’t be mad or anything, I promise. Just want my sweet girl to talk to me.” You take the beat of silence to think about to how explain it to him without coming across as a jealous and needy girlfriend. You can do this, you think to yourself.
“It’s just-I know how you felt during that relationship and how deep the feelings were thanks to Gareth and Jeff, a-and the way you were talking to her and looking at her at the Hideout on Tuesday made it look like no time had passed and that the feelings were still there. I mean, she gave you her number Eds! A-and you just said you hung out with her!” You exclaim, breaking out of his grasp and retreating towards the living room. You run a hand down your face, sighing as you try to level your heavy breathing.
“Okay, when you put it like that…yeah it sounds bad,” you hear him say from the kitchen. You sit on the couch, taking a large sip of the wine you abandoned earlier. Eddie turns around and stalks over to you, sitting on the chair opposite of you, not wanting to get too close again after the failed attempt. “But baby, I promise nothing happened with Heather and I, okay? We went over to Rick’s last night after grabbing coffee and smoked. Nothing more.”
“I just wish you told me about it,” you let out, feeling deflated from the way you were reacting.
“I know baby, and I’m sorry I didn’t. Work had been busy and when I was going to call you after I woke up yesterday, Heather called and asked to hang out at the coffee shop. I should’ve used the payphone outside the place or hell, called you before I left my place. If I could go back and do so I would.”
You flash him a half-hearted smile, looking back towards your wine glass before picking it up once again. Bringing it to your lips, you take another big sip, beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol move throughout your limbs and send a tingling feeling in them. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Eddie slide over onto the couch, still leaving room between the two of you as he leans his arms on his knees, hanging his head down a bit and letting his long mane of curls move forward with him.
“You want to know what we talked about yesterday? Over coffee?” He asks, quirking a brow your way as he shifts a bit from his position.
“Hmm?”
“We caught up, I asked her about college, she told me all kinds of stories. Even told me the story of how she met her fiancé, who moved in with her when she came back to Hawkins. They’re getting married in November, a few weeks before Thanksgiving which I thought was nice. Then I talked to her about you, and how we’ve been dating since the winter of ’84 and been inseparable since then. I must’ve been smiling really hard or something because she pointed out how happy I looked when I talk about you, which is true,” he chuckles out, a silly grin creeping onto his features.
Now it was your turn to smile, unable to hide the warm and fuzzy feeling that made its way into your chest at hearing the words. You set the wine glass back down, shifting on the couch so you were facing his direction, legs crossed as you leaned over to take his hand in yours. “Really?”
“Oh of course baby. Look, what I had with Heather all those years ago was great, and I appreciate the time I had with her then. But loving her taught me how to be better and show the person I was really meant for all the more love and affection that they deserve. You,” he boops your nose, making a giggle escape past your lips. “-you are the one I love now and will love until I take my last breath okay? All the shit I’ve been through was worth it because it brought you to me when you moved here, and I am so fucking happy about that. Wouldn’t trade that for anything.”
You can’t help but feel the burning sensation behind your eyes at Eddie’s sweet words. Sure, you still felt like a bit of a fool for acting like a jealous girlfriend, but hearing Eddie shut down all your worries and reassure you about his feelings for you in the nicest way you could’ve imagined warmed your heart. You move your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him towards you and closing the distance between you as your lips meet his. His hand instinctively goes to your hip, holding you closer as his mouth moves against yours in fever.
Eventually pulling away, you lean your forehead against his, giggling to yourself as you feel his bangs tickle the sensitive skin of your cheeks. You look at his big brown eyes, seeing the soft look he was giving you and melting all over again.
“Sorry for acting like a jealous girlfriend babe. Not the prettiest look for me if I’m being honest,” you joke.
“Hey, if the roles were reversed, I would totally act the way you did, so I get it. But now you know that you don’t ever have to worry about anyone else, because like I said, you’re it for me baby. I love you.”
“I love you more,” you say, pressing your lips to his cheek. He shoots you a grin, breaking contact with your forehead and rubbing slow circles into the fabric of your leggings.
“How about I warm up that pizza I brought over and we pop in one of those movies I rented? You probably need some food after all that wine you drank,” he says, making you laugh. Nodding, you agree.
“That sounds like the best idea you’ve had.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson angst#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female!reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things imagine#stranger things angst#stranger things fluff#gareth emerson#jeff stranger things#corroded coffin#fanfic#fanfiction#angst#fluff#strangermarvelss
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fictional — [p.jackson]
pairing: percy jackson x reader
wordcount: 2.1K
warnings: none
‘i put myself in another world, where i can be any other girl, cause i don’t really wanna face it. cause if it isn’t real you can pretend all you want…’
I sigh as the lyrics of ‘Fictional’ by Khloe Rose filter through my headphones. My head leans against the cool glass window of the bus, bumping my forehead every time the driver goes over a pothole.
Hey, call me crazy, but this is probably the most relatable song in existence. At least to me. Falling in love with boys from books and movies was basically my job at this point.
I had one, though, that meant more than all my other ‘fictional boyfriends’.
Percy Jackson.
I’d grown up with this character, laughed with him, cried with him, held fast and braved the storm with him. I’d adopted his personality, tried to be like his girlfriend, acted as if we were best friends, talked to him, dreamt about him, read and written fanfiction about him, anything you can think of. I am obsessed, and no, I’m not ashamed of that fact.
I’m five years running with this crush now, and it’s not going anytime soon. I let out another sigh as I realise, yet again, that this is impossible. He’s fictional, as much as it hurts to admit. He isn’t real, and I can’t live my whole life pretending to date and marry a fictional character. Life just doesn’t work like that. Sadly.
The bus pulls up at school, and I climb off, slipping my headphones into my pocket. I’ll probably get them back out during a boring lecture in one of my classes, but for now I’ll just keep the daydreaming at a minimum.
“Hey, girl.” Andie sidles up to me, nudging me with her shoulder. “What’s kicking?”
“Nothing,” I deadpan. “Unless you’re a goat, like Grover Underwood.”
Andie laughs, my sarcastic comment going right over her head. I love her to death, seriously, but the girl hasn’t got an ounce of sarcasm in her. She’s the most literal and honest person ever, but she’s also super sweet and sincere. So, sarcasm isn’t even a word she knows.
“I’m not a goat, silly,” she giggles. “But guess what?!”
“Yeah?” I am actually kind of interested. Andie usually has all the gossip (somehow), so her news tends to be pretty good.
“There’s a new guy in our class today,” she squeals. “Apparently he just moved here from New York.”
“New York is where Percy Jackson lives,” I say automatically. “I wanna visit there someday so bad.”
Andie rolls her pretty eyes. She likes Percy Jackson. I made her read the books, and she did, but just so that she knows what I’m talking about most of the time. “You and your fictional boys, I swear. This is a real boy, y/n! You need to get your head out of a book for once if you ever wanna meet somebody.”
I shrug. “Real boys suck though.”
And even Andie can’t argue with that.
I’m doodling in my notebook, half listening to Mr Mintar explain something about geometry. I’m not terrible at maths, so I figure I’ll just catch up if I need to. My brain doesn’t want to pay attention today.
I perk up, though, when I hear something new.
“Students,” Mrs May, our principal, announces. “We have a new student joining us today. Please be kind to Mr Jackson and show him around. Remember, you were once a new student yourself.”
Jackson? Like Percy Jackson? How cool is that, I thought to myself. I yank my headphones out of my ears and glance up.
A boy is talking quietly with Mr Mintar; who is probably explaining what we’re learning and where he’ll sit. We have assigned seats in basically every class, because a few boys in our grade are idiots, so I sit alone in every class. Apparently, other students are very likely to copy my work if they’re sitting with me, so the teachers decided to make me sit alone all the time. It’s kind of okay, though. Means I can do whatever I want with no one to tell on me for listening to music.
I watch as Mr Mintar talks with his hands, waving them a lot. The boy has his back to me. He has messy black hair, and he’s wearing jeans, converse and a blue hoodie.
Mr Mintar gestures at me, and I sit up straight. The boy glances quickly, nods at Mr Mintar, and I realise what’s happening. He’s being assigned to sit with me, which probably means I'll also be assigned his personal ‘welcome-to-our-school’ guide. Which means I’ll be forced to be this guy’s friend for the next few weeks. Yay.
The boy turns to face me, and I swear my heart literally skipped a beat. Now, this wasn’t like those dumb fanfics where a girl’s celebrity crush just so happens to turn up at her school for some stupid reason, and they fall in love blah blah blah.
This was an honest-to-goodness ‘what the hell is happening’ moment. The boy now walking towards me looks exactly how I’ve always pictured Percy Jackson in my mind. The same crazily messy black hair, loose and slightly curled at the edges, twisting around his ears and falling in his eyes a little bit. He has the same smattering of freckles on his nose, the same tan skin, troublemaker grin, the same glint of determination in his eyes.
And gosh, I’d know those sea-green eyes anywhere.
The boy slides into the seat beside me. “Hi,” he says softly. “You’re y/n?”
I can’t do anything but nod, and I try to not stare at him too hard.
“You’re supposed to be my guide, or something, I think.” The boy sounds apologetic, like he knows how annoying being forced to be a school guide is. “And I’m supposed to sit with you in all my classes.”
I nod again, a little dazed. Even his voice is Percy Jackson-coded. A slight rasp, a little accented, ugh.
I find my voice. “That’s cool. I’d be happy to show you around and get you into the groove of things here at East High.”
The boy smiles, and he has little crinkles at the side of his pretty eyes, as if he smiles a whole lot.
“Awesome. I’m Percy by the way.”
I blink at him, absolutely sure he’s pulling my leg somehow. “What do you mean?” I ask.
Percy frowns. “Like… my name? The thing that people call me? It’s Percy. Percy Jackson.”
I just stare at him.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asks.
“Your name is Percy Jackson?”
“Yeah?”
“Like the book character,” I add, surprising myself with the calm in my voice. Inside my head, though, I was screaming.
Percy’s brow furrows. “A book character? I dunno. Never heard of a book character called Percy, but there probably is. I don’t read that much. Dyslexia.”
I nod slowly. “Of course.”
Percy frowns again, then chuckles a little. “You’re weird. I like you.”
My tongue feels like someone’s deep fried it in the microwave. I try to swallow, and it’s nearly impossible. “So you’re not messing with me right now? You’re really called Percy Jackson, and you have dyslexia and probably ADHD, and sea-green eyes, and your hair isn’t dyed, and…”
Percy laughs again. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes. What’s this about?”
I shake my head. “You wouldn’t understand if I told you.”
Percy raises his eyebrow. “Try me.”
It’s been a week since Percy’s arrival, and I’m still about 89% sure I’m dreaming. Not that I usually dream like this, but still.
I’ve spent basically all my school hours with Percy, as well as half my bus rides home, as his mum lives nearby to us.
The longer I know him, the more I’m sure that he’s real, that he’s actually here, and that he’s really, truly, Perseus Jackson, the not-so-fictional boy I’ve been in love with forever.
The weirdest thing, though, is the night after he arrived, I got home and all my Percy Jackson books and merch were gone. Mysteriously vanished. Even Andie doesn’t know what I’m talking about when I bring up PJO.
It’s like that movie, Yesterday, where everyone forgets about the Beatles. It’s like that, but with Percy Jackson. Oh, and obviously I have a real Percy to replace it; whereas Jack in that movie didn’t really have that.
Anyway, it’s crazy, it’s probably a hallucination, and it’s absolutely incredible. I’m spending every single day with my absolute favourite person in the universe, and he’s real.
The boy I’ve cried over, laughed over, loved for years… He’s here. He’s real. And he’s my friend.
“Marshmallows are not designed to be eaten alone,” I argue, pouting a french fry at Percy. “They aren’t even that nice anyway, but especially not when you eat them dry. All the powder, like, clogs up your throat and it’s disgusting. If you eat them on their own, you’re crazy.”
Percy laughs. “I hate them in my hot chocolates. They get all gooey and mushy, and… ugh.” He makes a face.
I roll my eyes. “You’re insane.”
Percy shrugs. “At least I don’t hate rice.”
“Hey!” I protest. “I have sensory issues! It’s not my fault the feeling of rice in my mouth makes me feel sick.”
“Hey, I know,” Percy says. “I was just kidding. I’m sorry.”
I relax. “It’s okay.”
I stare at him a moment, realising once again that this is really happening to me. That his pretty sea-green eyes are actually looking at me.
“What are you thinking about, love?”
“Huh?” I snap out of my trance, sitting up straighter. “What did you say?”
Percy smirks. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”
To be honest, I barely remember. “Uh—nothing. Trying to think of what to do this afternoon after school.”
“You don’t have plans?” he asks.
I shake my head, and sip my chocolate milk. It tastes terrible.
“You’re going on a date with me, dummy,” Percy says, so casually I almost miss it. He leans his head back and throws a grape in the air, catching it in his mouth. It’s surprisingly attractive.
“Wait,” I say. “What?”
“You.” Percy points his finger at me, then himself. “Me.” He makes a swirling motion with his finger. “That new waterpark by the beach.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You’re asking me to go on a date with you?”
“You aren’t saying no.”
“No,” I reply, my voice soft, “I’m not.”
“Wow,” I say. “That’s an epic waterpark.”
Percy grins down at me, his eyes looking extra pretty in the afternoon sunlight. “You wanna race to the gate?”
I pretend to think about it for a second, then begin sprinting as fast as I can. I hear Percy gasp in laughter, then start after me. He catches me easily, his legs much longer than mine, but as he does, he scoops me up into a hug.
“Hey!” I shriek. “Put me down!”
I can tell he isn’t taking me seriously though, because we’re both laughing too hard. Percy eventually drops me gently on the ground. I can’t help but suddenly miss the feeling of his bare chest against me. I blink, and instantly shake those thoughts away.
“Buy me an ice cream and I’ll let you win all our races from now on,” I tease.
Percy scoffs. “Darlin’, you couldn’t win if you had a jetpack on.”
I try to ignore the flutter in my chest and roll my eyes. “Could so, and I don’t need any old jetpack.” I flex my nonexistent muscles. “You see these? I’m perfectly fine on my own, thank you.”
“Oh, oh yeah of course. Sorry, your majesty.” Percy has a stupid grin on his face, and I have an urge to kiss him right then and there.
And so I do. I grab hold of his shoulders, pull myself up onto tiptoe, and press my mouth to his. “I love you, Seaweed Brain,” I whisper into his lips.
Percy wraps his arms around my waist, causing the flutter to return, more greatly this time. He deepens the kiss, his head tilting downwards to accommodate my shorter height. His lips taste of the jellybeans we were eating earlier together. He had insisted on eating only the blue ones, of course.
The world around me blurs, and fades, and I’m left with only him, only Percy Jackson. His fingers on my waist, his mouth on mine, my heart in his hands. I am completely and totally his, as I’ve been forever, but now? He’s completely and totally mine too. My not-so-fictional boy.
#percy jackson#pjo#fanfiction#fanfic#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson x reader fanfic#percy jackson fanfiction#walker scobell#percy jackson and the olympians#rick riordan#pjo series#pjo tv show#percy jackson x you#perseus jackson#fictional characters#fictional boys#fictional khloe rose
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I literally ran over here cuz I just saw a clip of a hiphop dancer and ballet dancer dancing together for the olympics and I'm like OHH??
Perchance hiphop dancer!bakugou and ballet!reader???? I WANT TO KNOW UR THOUGHTS.
I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. PLS THIS JUST AWAKENED SMTH IN ME
(SORRY IF THIS TOO LONG???)
You were often training a bit later than the other dancer. You were a perfectionist, your moves needed to be clean, smooth and precise. Ballet was intransigent, one mistake could ruin all of your efforts. That is why you were still in the dancing, you've been in here for hours now and the sun had already set. You did so many pirouettes that your head was spinning. So many jumps your feet were bleeding. But it still wasn't enough. You needed to be perfect. After a particularly hard spin you fall to the ground, your body not able to handle the pressure. Your body couldn't handle the effort your brain wanted to make.
"Damn, that was definitely interesting" a voice came out of nowhere. It was a bit mocking but the tone of his voice made you curious. Deep and cold, you could feel all his confidence through his voice. You turn around to see where the voice was coming from. That is when you first laid your eyes on him. His blonde messy hair were stooding out in the darkness of the room. His cherry red eyes were locked on you and you were scared they might see through the deepest places of your soul. He was way too relaxed compared to you.
"Are you done ? I want to train" it kinda surprised you because you never saw him before. You were here everyday and you know everyone. Moreover, he definitely didn't look like the type to do ballet but you could be wrong. "Oh yeah sorry. I'm leaving" "Good."
You start to pick up your stuff and finally take off your pointe shoes. Since when have you been wearing them ? Probably a few hours now. While you put your things back into your bag, the blonde haired boy
settled in front of the mirror. He was wearing a black tank top, revealing his surprisingly muscular back. And a baggy jean which fell perfectly on his ankles. You couldn't look away from him. There was something about him that made you admiring, it was almost obsessing. When the first notes of music sounded and his body began to move, your jaw almost dropped. It was the first time you saw someone dance like this. Every move was perfect, coordinated but most of all it was passionate. It was almost as if he he didn't have to think about the next step.
At the end of the song, you realised you had been sitting on the floor for almost 5 minutes, not moving an inch, your eyes focused on him. When he noticed you were still here, a smirk appeared on his face.
"Like what you see?" your cheeks immediately turn red. Of course you liked it how could you not. The way he danced was absolutely mesmerizing. He music started again and he went back to his choreography. You had to summon up all your motivation to get up and leave the room, and not only because your feet were hurting like crazy...
For several days afterwards, you trained until your feet were bleeding, until your legs were shaking and until the hiphop boy was back in the room. He was always coming really late, when everybody had already left. It was only you and him at this time of the night. But but your conversations are always very brief. It was only a few words and often it was only him making fun of you for training too hard. But one night, he decided to come earlier. He wanted to see you dance, he wanted to see you really dance. Because everytime, when he entered the room you were too exhausted to perform a simple choreography. He was dying to see your true potential. That is why he showed up at 8pm, bag on his shoulder, when you had just started rehearsing your pirouettes. When he saw you spin like this, he immediately understood why you were so tired every night. They were perfect. The way your legs and arms move was so graceful he'd think you were an angel. He studied you for a very long time, never getting sick of it. He doesn't know why his chest feels so weird, why his heart feels so full when he looks at you dancing with your sheer white skirt.
After a moment you finally realise he's here, you deduce that it's time for you to leave. "I'm sorry. I'm leaving." But when you start to head toward your bag, he grabs your wrist. Your heart skips a beat when you feel his hands against your skin. They're soft, and strong at the same time.
"Wait..."
He went to turn the music back on. When the first notes were heard, both your bodies began to move in rhythm. Your moves where slow, controlled and elegant. His were strong, fast and unpredictable. It was so different yet so similar. Your two bodies sometimes touched, in which case he'd grab your hand and spin you around like you were the most beautiful thing he ever saw. You danced like this for a while, disconnecting your brain, all you could think about was his body moving in time with yours.
When the music stop, you look into his red eyes, losing yourself in it. "Where did you learn to dance like that ?" your question made him smile "I never learned, it's just something i like to do" "I wish I could be as talented as you without needing to train like crazy." He let lout a small laugh, amused by your response. Your faces were only a few inches away and he couldn't prevent his heart from beating way too fast when looking at your eyes. "You don't have to train so hard, just let your body express itself."
"There's actually something my body wants to do, but i'm not sure if it's reasonable" Your tone and the look in your eyes changed when pronouncing this last sentence. Mentally debating with yourself, you were thinking about your next move. Your heart was racing and your face was growing red.
But in the end, the blonde haired boy didn't give you time to think about it. He grabbed the back of your neck and gently glued his lips to yours. Kissing you, silencing all the voices in your head.
#mha#bnha#bakugou#bakugou katsuki#mha bakugou#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bnha bakugou#bakugo fluff#mha fluff
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Lost Memory (Memory Reboot x4)
PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader x Timothy Bryce
SUMMARY: Two lost souls, both broken and neglected, knowing they were never meant to be, found solace in each other just for one night.
CONTAINS: SMUT, angst, depression, obsessive thoughts, mentions of death, canon violence, tainted love, blow jobs, face-sitting, hand jobs, unprotected sex, cum swallowing, dirty talk, pet names, sensual foreplay, rimming, intoxication, praise kink.
WORDS: 4.5k
SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent — Lost Memory
A/N: Hello everyone, the new chapter is finally here! I'm sorry for the wait, but I hope you like it!
LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST].
Cool New York night air enveloped your shivering frame the moment you walked outside, leaving the noisy wedding party behind the walls of the luxurious Ziegfeld Ballroom. Slowly breathing in the fresh air, you closed your eyes and threw your head back a little to come back to your senses—you were literally broken to pieces, to say the least—your heart was pounding painfully in your chest and at some point you wished it would stop beating, thinking that it would end everything and finally set you free from all this pain and suffering.
Hugging yourself, you took a few weak strides towards the street where cars were speeding by. Just one step, and tomorrow all the newspapers would report that there had been an accident in Manhattan right next to the Ziegfeld Ballroom where the pompous wedding of our Wall Street golden boy was taking place. You laughed to yourself at all this nonsense, how did you ever get into such a situation? Being completely sober, the realization of what you were thinking hit you even harder than if you were drunk or high, but now you were completely lucid, able to feel every twinge of pain.
Bewildered, you watched the yellow cars go by, sometimes you could see the impassive faces of the passengers inside. All this reminded you of a movie whose name you could never really remember. But it was definitely not a comedy or a drama. Maybe it was a documentary about someone's life... a tragic life?
With a sad sigh, you were about to sit down on the curb when you heard loud footsteps behind you and turned around to see a familiar silhouette approaching.
"Bateman?" You asked, stunned. "What are you doing here?"
The man didn't answer, as if he hadn't noticed you at all, casually pulling a cigar out of the pocket of his Prada coat that he wore over his wedding tuxedo, and for a second you thought it was just an illusion your sick mind managed to maintain to keep your psyche from collapsing.
After lighting his cigar, Patrick made a long drag before finally giving you an agonizing stare. "Just wanted to have some fresh air..." he paused, his white teeth clenching around the cigar, making his jawline look so sharp that even in the dark you could see it. "Plus, Evelyn didn't want me to smoke inside. We just got married and she's already making scenes."
You wanted to say something, but stopped at the last moment—his hazel eyes suddenly took your breath away—leaving you completely speechless.
"And you," Bateman continued as he came closer, his elegant figure looking so seductive in the dim light. "I can't believe you left all your business in Chicago just to come here and get squashed like a fucking cockroach!"
"What? What are you talking about?" You asked in a shaky tone, your temples pulsating with a strange tension that made you want to massage them. "What the fuck do you want from me?"
Patrick grinned wickedly as he leveled himself with you, the difference in height only adding to the menace of his appearance. "Tell me one thing, (y/n)," he whispered above your cheek, keeping the mere distance between the two of you. "Did you really think I'd dream of you coming back to me?"
You closed your eyes involuntarily, every word he said bringing the most inhuman pain you had ever felt. "S-stop," you replied, stepping back. "Shut... shut your damn mouth!"
"Ohhh," he cooed at you in a mocking way, which drove you crazy, but then he blew some smoke right in your face, which made you want to punch him in the chest. "You just have to accept that you lost," Bateman suddenly grabbed the collar of your coat to pull you closer. "Just accept that you fell in love with a man who doesn't give a fuck about you."
On the verge of tears, you didn't even struggle as the ground beneath your feet suddenly began to disappear. "I... I will not give you the satisfaction of hating you... you f-fucking bastard!"
Without thinking, you spat right into his smug face and before you knew it, his strong arms were wrapped around your trembling neck, almost straddling you so you couldn't even make a sound. Everything around you began to blur, and the last moment you remembered before passing out was Patrick's menacing laugh as he pushed you right out into the road in front of the speeding car. A fatal blow hit your body, a screeching sound of tires rang in your ears and you screamed in pain, choking on your own breath.
And then the darkness finally took you.
At least you thought so until you heard a familiar male voice calling out to you, and no, it wasn't Patrick. No way, if you were really going to die, you wished you would never meet him in the place you were going to transfer to. No doubt, that son of a bitch would burn in hell while you would end up in heaven. Somehow you were sure of that.
"Jesus, (y/n), will you stop yelling?" The grumpy voice called out to you again.
You blinked several times before opening your eyes to see the opulent interior around you. And who said that heaven was somewhere in the sky where angels were flying around promising a peaceful afterlife?
"Welcome back," the dark-haired man chuckled, swirling his drink in his hand. "I told you not to mix too many cocktails."
Cocktails?
You recoiled as if from an electric shock as you suddenly heard your inner voice, seemingly silent for centuries. Rubbing your eyes, you tried to get up, but the next moment you fell back onto something soft, which seemed to be a car seat, considering you definitely heard the engine rumble, so you were definitely in someone's car. Another attempt to get up was more successful and you took your time exploring the surroundings, and when you managed to get a good look at the person sitting on the opposite side of you, your heart did a flip-flop in your chest.
"Bryce?" You couldn't believe your eyes at first, but when you saw his cheeky grin, you knew it was really him.
"You drifted off right after we got in, so I decided not to wake you," Timothy replied nonchalantly before taking a sip of his drink. "Nice limo? Evelyn and Bateman were supposed to be in it, but then he told me they were leaving in a fucking helicopter," the man laughed, almost dropping the glass. "A fucking helicopter, can you believe that?"
Your head was spinning, making it difficult to process the information. Grunting, you pressed your hand to your forehead, trying to remember how you got in here in the first place.
"Ohhh...my head," you hissed, almost kicking the tray of drinks that was on the small table built into the limo door. "What...what happened after the ceremony ended," your question left Tim speechless and for a moment you both remained silent. "Bryce?"
Timothy frowned and placed the empty glass on his knee. "Are you kidding?"
"For God's sake, Bryce!" You suddenly raised your voice, but the next second you hissed in pain. "Can... can you just fucking tell me what the hell am I doing here?"
"You're asking me that?" Bryce tilted his head as he watched you try to sit comfortably. "Come on, (y/n), this isn't funny anymore. Besides, I warned you not to drink too much."
Tsk... I can't remember a damn thing.
When you managed to sit up straight, you pressed yourself against the cold window and sighed in relief. "And what exactly did...we drink?"
The man scoffed. "I told you...you had several cocktails, but that was not enough...so you decided to finish everything the bar had."
"Ahh, screw you! I don't believe a word you're saying," you threw one leg over the other, watching the blinding lights of oncoming traffic. "Where are we going?!"
"Where? Jeez, if you can't drink, you better not even try," Tim replied curtly, his voice changing, now devoid of any sass. "We're going to my place."
"What?"
"Stop fucking pretending you don't remember," the man barked, squirming in his seat, the glass felt on the soft floor of the limo, thankfully it didn't break. "Do you know how deranged you are? You talked in your sleep-"
"I didn't!" You tried to interrupt him, completely embarrassed. "Take another glass and-"
"No, no, no, hold on!" Bryce leaned forward to get closer so you could see his face more clearly. "Did I hit the nerve?"
Yes, you did. You fucking did.
If only you could really confess and open up to him without fear of being accused or whatever. Would it even be right to tell Tim everything that happened between you and Patrick? When you were so close to telling him all the things that were bothering you, your voice suddenly disappeared, as if some invisible force was choking you from within. Only after a few minutes did you manage to speak, feeling Timothy's piercing gaze.
"Was it Evelyn who invited you to the wedding?" Your question surprised him, you could tell by the way he leaned back in his seat. "I'm just curious...because she invited me."
Every time Evelyn was mentioned, something changed in his expression, and you couldn't really find the right word to describe it—it was something much stronger than the usual sadness people always talked about—something that made you sad, too.
"Let's say," his lips curled into a wry smile and you couldn't take your eyes off them, they were beautiful and alluring. "I don't remember."
"You don't remember or...you don't want to remember?" You opened your coat, suddenly feeling suffocated in your clothes.
Bryce furrowed his thick eyebrows, looked down at the empty glass on the floor, as did you, and then your fingers touched as you both leaned down to pick it up. Tim's skin was not as soft as Patrick's, it felt completely different, it made you want to explore it more, to touch it, to taste it, as if it was your own personal forbidden fruit.
Without saying a word, Tim quickly pulled away and took the glass to place it on the tray next to the others, the amber liquid in them making them look like they were made of gold. There was no room for any more talk as the two of you pulled each other into a furious kiss, you let him place his hand at the base of your neck, drawing you closer and soon you were sitting on top of him, gasping into his mouth. Bryce's slightly flushed face made it impossible to think of Bateman, even though his image tried to appear every time you briefly opened your eyes.
Leave... me... alone!
You almost growled aloud, but Tim's eager tongue prevented you from doing so, as he used it to shut you up completely, licking your mouth from the inside while his hands slid down your back to your ass, massaging it, and when you thought he was going to slap it, he just gave it a playful squeeze.
"Jesus, Bryce," you whispered against his red lips, swollen from your kisses. "I didn't know you could be so sweet."
Tim craned his neck and you seized the moment to leave a wet hickey on his smooth skin, he smelled so good you thought you could just snuggle into his chest and sniff his scent. And why did you even bother with these childish, silly games with Bateman? Unfortunately, some questions never had answers, but it didn't matter now. Not when you could find comfort in the arms of Patrick's best friend.
God, I wish you could see me right now.
"There's so little you know about me, baby." He chirped before helping you take off your coat, his impatience turning you on wildly.
With a soft giggle, you unbuttoned your shirt. "Huh, baby? Really? And I thought you were the type who didn't use such primitive nicknames."
Smirking, you teased him with the slow rocking of your hips against his, feeling his hard length pressed against your burning core, and it spurred you to move faster, more erratically, as you unexpectedly became as impatient as he was. And even though you didn't like losing control, you wanted to get lost right now, even though you'd probably regret it tomorrow, but at least the regret would be different.
Nibbling at the artery on your neck, Timothy grabbed your ass tighter to make the friction more vivid, his finger digging into the expensive material of your Gucci pants. "I can call you anything you want," he growled into your collarbone, your shirt half undone. "Just tell me what you want to be tonight?"
"I can be anything," you caught his warm lips with your own to kiss him again in a way that bordered on desperation, as if your life depended on it, and he responded with the same ferocity. "Anything you want..."
Chuckling at your cheeky statement, the man lounged in his seat and looked at you up and down, admiring the way your clothes were disheveled, your hair was nothing like it had been when you had just arrived at the wedding and even your feelings were different. Everything was different now, the whole world seemed to diminish to the size of the interior of the limousine and you both wanted this moment to last forever, but you knew it was impossible.
Bryce decided to use his mouth in a more effective way than just talking, latching it around your nipple through your shirt, but then taking it off completely and swirling his tongue around your hard tip.
"Don't be anything," he quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled out his hard cock. "Just be mine tonight."
You couldn't hide a smile of genuine satisfaction as his words struck a chord in your chest. "Deal."
With that, you carefully rose from his lap to position yourself between his wide-open legs, watching him touch himself with pure abandon. And yet, everything about Tim was far too alien, your mind kept bringing back the memories of what had happened in the bathroom a few hours ago. It hurt, it hurt so much that you almost chewed your cheek to the point of blood to hold back the tears. Bryce, you had to focus on Bryce, he was here, right in front of you, all spread out and pumping his thick cock.
Stop thinking about Bateman!
"Are you sure you know what to do?" Timothy glared down at you, concerned by the sudden change in your demeanor.
Shaking yourself off, you smiled in reply and before you knew it, your hand was sliding along his, then completely replacing it and stroking his dick vigorously, smearing his dense pre-cum all along your hand.
"Watch me," you murmured and lowered yourself even more to take him in your mouth, savoring his salty taste. "Mhhm...fuck, Bryce, you taste so good."
Tim couldn't stop himself from moaning, grabbing the edge of the seat and closing his eyes in ecstasy. "Keep going," he purred, fighting the urge to fuck your throat. "Shit... Bateman doesn't even know what he lost."
Bryce's words almost made you choke on his beefy shaft, but it only took a moment to pull yourself together and just enjoy the way his dick slid in and out of your mouth. As the man pushed himself further, the tip brushing against your throat, you leaned against his hips for support, allowing him to have his way with you. Just the sight of him made you tremble with desire, as you had never really thought that Tim could be so hot, not that you had any doubts that he was a skilled lover, but reality never ceased to surprise you.
"I...I'm so fucking close...uh," his voice dropped even lower, eloquent proof of his words. "Your mouth...arhhh...you know how to work magic with your mouth, babe."
Although you had always denied having a praise kink, being with Tim was the first time you were truly willing to admit that you did have a praise kink. Every little praise he gave you was like balm to your broken soul, encouraging you to suck him harder, to drink him dry. These two men were far too unlike each other, but in the end, you seemed to crave them both.
Being so close to falling apart, Bryce couldn't control himself any more and took a handful of your hair and plunged full length into your bruised mouth until you both noticed that the car had stopped. Tim swore loudly but that didn't stop you and the next thing you remembered was feeling thick ropes of his hot cum shooting down your throat and you could swear it tasted so fucking sweet. Maybe you were delusional, maybe it was just another hallucination–you didn't care because you were high like no drugs could make you.
I'll remember that taste for sure.
A little later, you didn't know exactly how much time had passed, and you didn't recollect how the two of you had gotten into Bryce's apartment. You didn't care about the luxury of this place, how expensive the furniture was, how soft the silk sheets were when you fell on them, your naked skin sliding along the cold material like a ship on waves. You were about to lose all connection to reality when Tim climbed on top of you, his hairy chest rubbing against yours, your legs wrapped around his waist and you couldn't stifle a moan as his leaky dick rubbed against your legs.
Creasing the sheets, you raked your hand through his black, tousled hair, pulling him closer so that your lips could collide in a hunger kiss. "Fuck me, Tim," you murmured unexpectedly, brushing your feet against his hips. "Fuck me like there's no tomorrow."
"Are you always this needy?" He teased, biting your lower lip and licking it after a quick nibble. "Or is it because of me?"
Perplexed, you stopped doing anything as his words left you pondering. "I... I don't know... I don't know who I really am..."
Bryce nodded without saying anything, his nose touching yours in a brief moment of genuine affection, and somehow you thought he understood everything, that he could read you like an open book and there was no need for you to explain. Pecking your cheek, the man slowly turned you over on your stomach and you quickly got down on all fours because you couldn't wait any longer. Bucking your hips, you turned around to see him positioning himself behind you, his warm palm caressing your ass before a finger probed your tight hole, making you gasp but you didn't falter, showing him how ready and eager you were.
"Uhh," Tim stroked himself several times before aligning himself with your opening and diving in with a slow, deliberate thrust. "Fuck...mmhm-fuck."
The mere thought that he had been imagining Evelyn all this time, starting with you giving him head, suddenly made you angry, and for a brief second you allowed yourself to imagine that it was Patrick who was stretching you from the inside, but somehow you began to feel even worse.
"I'm sorry...I'm not Evelyn," you blurted out without thinking. "But I..."
"Shut up," he cut you off and slammed into you relentlessly, forcing you to take him, no matter how painful it was. "I don't want to hear about her...not even a thing."
Bryce was right, it was so fucking stupid of you to bring Evelyn at such a moment, but it was so hard for you to think clearly and Tim's fat cock didn't help at all, the fullness it gave you was completely overwhelming. It made you forget everything and you didn't even want to compare your sensation with the way Patrick made you feel - your mind was finally free of any emotions or thoughts–you were drowning in a carnal lust. You were both extremely vocal, poor neighbors who could hear you at this hour, but Timothy seemed to be completely indifferent as he set the pace, pounding into you with all his might, each stroke full of desperation and unbridled passion.
By the time dawn broke, you couldn't remember how many orgasms you'd both had, as you'd probably tried every possible and impossible position. You managed to be on your knees for him, under him, on top of him. It was madness you never thought you were capable of. As you rode his face, touching yourself, you cried out Bryce's name, not even afraid to accidentally use Patrick's name instead.
"Tim...mhmm-fuck...Tim...I'mma cum!" You fisted his hair, sliding along his glistening face as you rubbed your most sensitive spot. "Fuck...yeahh-Tim...ahhh!"
Shaking, you cum around his face, feeling his strong tongue move inside your tight ass as your inner channel spasmed around it, causing him to moan and hold you close to prolong your climax. Time stopped for both of you with the last stroke of his tongue along your tender flesh and you both collapsed exhausted on the bed.
The first rays of the sun awoke you earlier than you could have imagined. As you lazily got up from the bed, trying not to disturb Tim snoring peacefully, you checked the time before you started looking for your clothes. To be honest, you wanted to stay here in his bed and continue to sleep in his arms, but you knew it would only lead to destruction and you were sure that Bryce thought the same.
Maybe it was a mistake?
Frowning, you wanted to punch yourself for being so reckless and stupid, but Tim's loud exhale caught your attention. You turned to check on him before leaving his bedroom to quickly get dressed and use the bathroom. All the while, you tried to ignore your own reflection, feeling the shame and contempt eating away at you from within, though you didn't even understand why. Bryce wanted this to happen as much as you did, but no matter how hard you tried to reassure yourself, it just didn't seem right. After one last look in the large mirror above the sink, you left the bathroom and soon after you left Timothy's apartment.
The taxi ride back to the Plaza Hotel didn't take long as it was only six in the morning. Looking out the window, you saw rare pedestrians walking here and there, some of them holding newspapers that you were sure were the New York Times. The tops of the skyscrapers were about to reach the sky, and every time you craned your neck to look at them, your head began to spin. All these little details made you realize that you missed New York and probably your former life?
Was it worth it leaving everything behind?
This question kept swirling around in your head even as you finally got back into your suit and decided to take a shower to clean up after such a wild day. Dear God, you just fucked two different men in one day.
"I'm so pathetic..." You muttered to yourself as you stood under the hot water. "What am I going to do now?"
Pressing your head against the wet tiled wall, you gave up and let the tears flow down your face, the water washing them away in an instant. You felt guilty, thinking that you'd only used Bryce for your own needs, knowing that it wouldn't lead to anything serious, but you did it anyway. It was so damn selfish. But then you remembered the words Patrick had said to you in the bathroom just before the ceremony started. You clenched your hand into a fist and the next second you slammed it into the wall with all the strength you had. The blow was so strong that your hand began to bleed, but you ignored it because physical pain was nothing compared to the emptiness inside your soul. As if under a spell, you kept hitting the wall, leaving bloodstains on it.
Five hours later, you are sitting in the restaurant area of the Plaza, waiting for Paul Allen to join you for lunch. Since you had some time before your flight to Chicago, you thought it would be good to catch up with him and talk a little about your current situation at your new job.
Maybe I can get a fresh start here...
Rocking in your seat, you looked down at your bruised hand, which was covered in a tight white bandage, and luckily you managed to stop the bleeding without going to the hospital, but you were still a little nervous, though not because of your wound. What if Paul would tell you that there was no way you could return to New York because the company in Chicago wouldn't let you go? You tapped your fingers on the table in anxiety before picking up the New York Times to distract yourself. One page, then another, until an interesting article appeared in your vision–a luxurious tobacco store in Upper Manhattan had been robbed–the very store you always liked to visit and even dreamed of buying a collection of cigars to give to Patrick...
"(Y/n)! How have you been?" Paul's cheerful voice echoed across the room and when you turned to face him, you noticed that he looked even more tanned than the last time you saw him.
"Oh, hi," you accepted his handshake and then Allen took a seat across from you. "I've been better," your other hand was still holding a newspaper and it caught Paul's attention. "What about you?"
Paul nodded in understanding. "Well, my job kicks my ass, is all I can say," he laughed, and before you could say anything else, he pointed to the copy of the New York Times. "What are you reading?"
Slightly embarrassed, you folded the paper and put it aside. "Times," you replied briefly. "The tobacco store I liked to visit was robbed in broad daylight. Can you imagine that?"
Allen shifted in his seat. "I didn't know you frequented places like this," he chuckled, finally opening the menu. "Because I don't remember you smoking."
Smirking, you leaned back in your chair. "You don't know anything about me, Allen," you took a sip of your wine and watched him tense up a bit. "Anyway, I just got a little upset because I wanted to buy something in this store for..." you suddenly stammered, feeling dizzy.
"For...?" Paul arched his eyebrows and looked at you suspiciously.
"For a person... ," you finished. "...a very special one."
"Your date?" The man asked in a playful tone. "And who might that be?"
You found this situation quite ironic, because you really imagined yourself going to that store and buying those fucking cigars, hoping they would impress Bateman, and now you ended up fucking his best friends because he married Evelyn Williams.
As you propped yourself up on your elbow, you suddenly started to laugh, but then it turned into a pathetic whimper. "I'm so fucked up, Allen," you shook your head and gripped the table. "You can't even imagine how... fucked up... I am."
And I don't know how I'm going to survive this.
P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!
#american psycho#patrick bateman x reader#patrick bateman imagine#patrick bateman#patrick bateman x female reader#patrick bateman x you#slasher x reader#slashers x reader#slasher x you#slasher smut#patrick bateman smut#patrick bateman headcanon#christian bale smut#christian bale x reader#patrick bateman reader#christian bale#patrick bateman imagines#patrick bateman x male reader#timothy bryce#timothy bryce x reader#timothy bryce x female reader#timothy bryce x male reader
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wait enlighten me on the i’m so tired being about paul grind i don’t know if i see it
ofc! it's just interpretation obviously but it's one of those that makes me eye it a bit. but. it's one of those that every beatles wiki will be like "it's about yoko" but he's never said that and honestly the song doesn't fit with their relationship at the time like at all. she WAS writing him a lot of telegrams and their relationship was certainly getting Weirder at the time, but I wouldn't think it would inspired sleepless, tortured nights yet
the song is very much like. a sort of rising anger/irritation with the situation and the person in the song which is very much where paul and john were at at the time. I'm not a "something happened in india" truther, but I do think things between them were going south. had been since brian died and only got worse with paul getting engaged.
this part particularly To Me reads as very paul
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f94f204c1f2f902f38c2772d16a5fe99/a230c89cd9f5c171-c0/s540x810/d25855db67cb9895cb92ef8a684df45132912206.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/674d7488d98c92270d82356e2499973d/a230c89cd9f5c171-18/s540x810/282c7cdbbff7a4d32ee42db6c15a26ed504a3633.jpg)
bc at the point john and YOKO were at if he called her and was like "hey I'm in love with you and I'm going insane and can't sleep over it" I don't even know that HE'D be scared she'd say he was joking and turn him down. like she was very much the one doing the chasing there for a while and her telegrams seem pretty damn confident about where that relationship was headed. where they were at just didn't seem like the tortured, aching, harm that he talks about in this song. it was the beginning obsession of new love which is a TOTALLY different feeling than this song gives off.
paul on the other hand. I think it would be incredibly reasonable to assume that if he told paul "yeah I haven't been able to sleep because you're driving me insane, I'm in love with you, and it's like actually genuinely hurting me" paul would go "that's a hilarious one john thanks" like 💀 way more in character for paul to brush something like that off than yoko
also as just a further lil reach lol in the esher demo there's this:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/981b5139e8ca0216999a6879d73dd656/a230c89cd9f5c171-8c/s540x810/da7954e2645607a3230a8f88d4c2cdf5d14e1d2c.jpg)
obviously john was just misspeaking and meant to say my arms but. interesting especially bc at this point him and yoko had never slept together or been intimate at all. that's USUALLY something I'd call bullshit on with affairs, but they've been pretty open about their relationship timeline. she's also. I mean. yoko isn't very charming lmao I'm not dogging on her she just isn't and she knows that, john knew that, the world knows that. she's just a very blunt person who at the time this was written was just coming off as sort of strange and mysterious to him.
so saying yknow "when I hold you (/fuck you) I wonder if I should get up and lock myself in a mental institution" would again just be a really weird and nonsensical thing to say about yoko. about the notoriously charming man who in this scenario you'd be fucking, though.......... homosexuality was BARELY legal let alone smth john had come to grips with so this whole doom spiral around this person & fucking them & what that means for you, well! very interesting, anyway
anyway that's it! I just am super unconvinced this song is about yoko. and there's really only 3 sort of romantic interest options in his life at the time it could be about and it just wouldn't fit for yoko or cynthia imo. so that leaves paul. and their quickly crumbling relationship.
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Figured if I was going to go on the Snow White rant, I needed to actually rewatch the Disney movie.
The opening credits are much more interesting when you know some of the names. The only women who got on the list were Dorothy and Hazel, but it was nice to see their names at least and know who they were.
That book is gorgeous. All the details of the calligraphy and illustrations and binding.
Wow, the Queen is so much creepier than I remember. The fact that using the magic mirror involves summoning a "slave" trapped in the mirror? Don't like that.
That peacock behind her throne, though? Stunning, fantastic, no notes.
I kind of love how the Queen forces Snow White to be a maid, and Snow White just...doesn't care at all. She's just scrubbing a floor and totally fine. Queen's obsessed with Snow White every minute of the day and Snow White doesn't think about her at all.
Sorry, I don't buy the romance at all. I know it's a fairy tale, but one song does not a life-changing romance make. (There was a version of the scene where the prince was going to rejoice over the fact that she loved him, which might have been too much, but it at least would have helped sell it.)
The scene of Snow running through the forest and then collapsing in tears did make me feel for her.
It seems like Snow White and the Queen are from a completely different movie from the dwarfs. They've got this whole high fantasy feud going on, meanwhile these guys are living in a sitcom.
The dwarfs were the best part. Forgot how cute those guys could be.
There was not enough story here. 75% of the running time is them trying to stretch this paper-thin story to feature length. There's a big long cleaning sequence. A big long sequence of the dwarfs figuring out who invaded their cottage. A big long introduction sequence. A big long washing-up sequence. Multiple extended gags involving a fly. All fun to animate, I'm sure, but not at all up to modern pacing standards.
(I'd kind of like to compare this to other escapist '30s musicals--is this kind of structure common for movies where the point is just to show up and escape the Depression for 90 minutes?)
As a kid, I had one of those sing-a-long videos with a bunch of Disney songs, and I did not realize that I had a deep emotional connection to it until "Heigh-Ho" made me instantly happy and the Silly Song unearthed memories I didn't even know I had.
A lot of the other songs kind of stink, ngl. There's a reason the washing-up song is not in the public consciousness.
Kind of out-of-line for Snow White to just show up at their house and treat them like misbehaving children.
The skeleton in the dungeon reaching for the water pitcher? Can't believe the movie went there.
(Then they drew too much attention to it and kind of wrecked it. But wow.)
I like that they give a valid reason that the Queen thought True Love's Kiss wasn't going to be a problem.
But the queen cackling over the fact that Snow White's going to be buried alive? When it comes to showing this movie to children, I'm not hesitating about Snow White as a female role model, I'm hesitating because it's dark.
(But also--why not just poison her? I get that living death/buried alive is a worse fate than just plain death, but if she's not actually dead, how does the Queen count as fairest in the land? Especially since she magically made herself as ugly as possible?)
They carved her name in the coffin! Just like the bed! They finally get to make her a bed and it's to lay her to rest! It's almost enough to make me tear up.
The castle in the clouds makes me think of heaven/resurrection imagery, which ties in interestingly to my take on it.
There is so much potential to flesh out this story in a live-action version. Since you can't fill up the runtime with comedy dwarf antics, there's so much space to flesh out the relationship between the prince and Snow White, and give texture to the feud between the Queen and Snow White, and to dig deep into Snow's sweet character and how it affects the dwarfs, which is why it stinks that they're going for just another Not Like Other Girls update.
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