#i remember listening to this particular song a lot

[koka-mi]

choking on flowers by fox academy...wowzers.....

[corset]

Yeah alright real

[loveletterworm]

on a somewhat regular basis i look at the ralsei playlist i made 3 years ago and just think about how imo i did really well on it i think i was operating on a very accurate ralsei wavelength and the songs sound nice together. It is one of my best works in the field of "putting songs in an order". I think I've mentioned it before but I don't remember if I actually ever showed the whole thing

are you rocking with the ralsei playlist i made 3 years ago. Do you like the picture on it at least

[katamarigender]

sanctified....

[repulsiveliquidation]

Reservation || Laia Codina

warnings : smut (18+), fingering, cunnilingus, face-riding, lots of biting, thigh-riding.

summary : Laia goes on a little date with herself to celebrate the win over Brazil in the group stages where she meets a server who catches her eye.

Laia cheers with the rest of the team when they qualify for the quarterfinals. Pumping fists and lots of hugs later, she’s on a bus back to the olympic village with the rest of the girls. 

“So what are we doing to celebrate, eh?” Jenni asks, wrapping her arm around Laia as she leans her head on Laia’s. 

“I dunno but I need a hot shower before I even think about what to do,” Laia explains and Jenni rolls her eyes playfully, moving to make fun of Cata and her batman mask. 

Laia goes on her phone, googling all the best spots for a little quiet wind down spot near the Olympic Village. She finds a quaint little family restaurant that’s away from town, which is sure to be absolutely void of patrons. 

The pictures look promising and the local guide reviews are exceptional. As she scrolls through the photos and gets a little excited to try everything, there’s someone in those pictures that catches her eye and she’s hoping they’re there for service tonight. She calls, eager to make a reservation. A girl picks up. 

“Bonjour, comment puis-je vous aider?”

“Uh,” Laia starts, remembering she doesn’t actually know anything in French. 

“Um, connaissez-vous l'anglais??”

There was a bit of a word she understood; she smiled and nodded to no one in particular though Aitana did look at her friend funny. 

“Yes, English!” 

“Ah okay! What can I do for you miss…?”

“Laia!” She yells a little too excitedly,  “can I make a reservation for one tonight please?” 

“Yes, Laia was it?” 

“Yes, thank you so much!” 

“Of course, see you tonight, merci!”

Laia hangs up and looks quite proud of herself, sinking back into her chair on the bus. She looks out the window, mindlessly daydreaming about the girl she saw in the pictures while the rest of the girls begin to sing songs a little too loudly; before you know it Alexia yells at them to pull themselves together and shut the fuck up so she can sleep. 

Of course no one listens to her and they continue to sing, Laia joins in just as they reach the chorus of their fifth Karol G number. 

Jenni takes too long in the bathroom before she can fully rest a bit before her little date with herself in the evening. Laia feels a little nervous, unable to rest just a little before she leaves the room. Luckily the weather was nice and she could walk to the restaurant and enjoy the warm sun. 

There was a little breeze, leaving her feeling quite refreshed and eager for her little date. Following Apple Maps on her phone, she finds the place rather easily. There were lots of locals out and about in the bars, watching the Olympics with their families. 

Laia stood in front of the restaurant, waiting to be seated. There were a few people inside and it smelled delicious, she was quite proud of herself for finding this little gem. 

“Avez-vous une réservation?” 

”Um,” Laia looked up and saw her. The girl from the pictures. She stares at Laia with a little amused face, smiling bigger when she sees the little blush creep up on the Spainiards face. 

“English?” Laia manages, smiling when the server nods and starts to take a menu. 

“Does a pretty lady like you have a reservation?”

“Oh!” Laia gasps, “Sí, I mean yes, Laia.”

“Hmm, a pretty face to go with a pretty name. Come with me, you’ve got the best table in the house.”

“Really?”

“Oui, and it’s in my section,” you quip, winking at the deeply blushing Laia. 

You pull the chair out for Laia, making sure to push it in carefully. With the menu in front of her, you begin to recommend the best dishes on it. 

“What’s the best dish here?”

“Me, but I’m unfortunately not on the menu tonight.”

“Shame.”

“Yes, but our Salade de Chèvre Chaud to start would be lovely.” 

“Sí, I’ll do that. And the Ha-chis, um, Parm-men-tier,” Laia tries, chuckling softly when you giggle at her. 

“I’ll applaud you for trying but it says Meat Pie right under the French bit.”

“Oh,” Laia looks at the menu then up at you, watching as your eyes get a certain look in them. 

“How about dessert?” You ask, leaning in a little closer than etiquettely acceptable. 

“I want to keep my options open,” Laia says, her turn to be a little flirty. 

“I like that, I’ll go put your order in. Would you like a bottle of wine to go with your meal?”

“Whatever you pick will be perfect.”

You wink at her and walk towards the kitchen, taking a deep breath behind the door. Your friend, Jessie, sees you looking flush and flustered. 

“Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?”

“The cutest girl ever just walked in and I’m pretty sure we’re fucking after she has dinner.” 

“What gave you that idea?”

“I saw it in her eyes, you know?”

“Maybe it was the delusion.”

“Maybe,” you say matter-of-factly, “she wants to give me an unforgettable night.” You punch Laia’s order into the POS. Jessie rolls her eyes at you and begins to take food that needs to be served and as you walk out to help her, you whisper a little confession to her. 

“I’m gonna let her.” 

“Here’s your Duck Salad and first glass of wine, enjoy,” you say to Laia, heart melting when she smiles up at you and thanks you in perfect French. You saw her on her phone earlier, mumbling to herself and she was clearly practicing phrases in an attempt to speak to you. When you bring her main, she’s got another nugget of information for you. 

“Thank you, the salad was delicious,” Laia tried and when she finished, you were ready to take her home with you. 

She finishes the last bits of her mashed potatoes, and since the restaurant is empty, you strike up a conversation. Laia was easy to talk to and was more than interested in talking more with you. 

“Where are you from? You’re clearly not French.”

“Spain but I live in England,”

“Oh for work?”

“Sí,” Laia says with her big smile on her face. The boss was out with his lady for the night and since he was your dad, you were allowed to sit with a customer. 

Laia offers to pour you some of her wine and you let her, watching your pretty eyes glimmer in the dim restaurant. 

“What do you do Laia?”

“I play football!”

“What’s that? Is that an Olympic sport?”

Laia, flabbergasted, begins to sputter and explain the most famous sport in the world to the prettiest girl she had ever seen. 

You knew perfectly well what it was and played a little with your brothers but decided that evening that you loved hearing her talk and this seemed like a good way to get Laia to keep talking. 

“There’s eleven people on each–why are you laughing?”

“If you asked me to marry you right now, I think I would say yes. Are you always this adorable Laia?” 

Laia understandably blushes and begins to stutter again, leaving you in a fit of more giggles. Laia stares at you as you laugh, feeling her heart grow fonder as the night goes on. 

“Oh my where are my manners,” you say, standing, “would you like dessert?”

A mischievous grin adorns Laia’s face before she speaks. 

“Only if you’re on the menu.” 

You return her mischievous grin and vow to make her night worth it. 

“That certainly sounds delicious, let me go ask the chef what he can do.” 

You come back with her bill and an exciting update on Laia’s pending dessert. 

“I get off at ten, wait for me outside?” 

Laia nods excitedly, before looking down at the bill. It was zero. 

“Wait, no! You don’t need to!” 

“Consider it our first date on me,” you lean in and kiss her cheek, “I’ll be right outside,” you tell her before turning around abruptly “Oh! And watch out for Frankie, he likes head pats.” 

Laia walks outside and sits along the street, keeping her eye out for anyone that looks like Frankie. Not long after, a fluffy, pearly white cat comes up to her, nudging his head against her shins. 

“Debes ser Frankie,” Laia tells him, checking the little collar he had that rang when he sauntered. Laia gives him head pats as instructed, feeling the little guy purr and roll over onto his back for more lovings. 

“My my, he normally isn’t that quick to roll over. I knew I was right about you,” you remark, kneeling beside Laia and joining in on giving Frankie affection. He’s more than happy to have two hands on him, mewing his head off in approval. 

“My place or yours?”

“Mine isn’t exactly one-night stand friendly,” Laia says quietly, picking at her cuticles nervously. 

“That’s okay, mine’s just up the road anyway,” you take her hand and begin walking up the street, the cool late night breeze blowing lightly on your faces. 

“You really didn’t need to get my bill,” Laia tells you, smiling nervously at you. You wave in her face and smile, telling her it was your father’s restaurant so really it was on the house. 

Your house though was a lovely two bedroom apartment that was in a quiet bit of town with no one around this late at night. There were a few tv’s on and you could barely hear the Olympics replays on them. Walking into your front room, Laia grinned and looked around curiously. 

“I love that song,” Laia says quietly, reaching for the record sitting on top of your coffee table. You come around her and put ‘Turn Me On by Norah Jones’ in the player, turning around to face Laia. Her hands find your waist, pulling you closer as yours wrap around her neck. The familiar first verse plays and she makes you dance a little, which pulls a giggle out of you. 

Both of you are nervous to make the first move and it’s because you’re both scared. As you ought to be. 

“Putain,” you mutter in French before crashing your lips on the Spaniard’s. 

The butterflies are replaced with fireworks. The nerves turned into desire. Clothes ripped from bodies and littered all over the floor. There were sirens in the background as breaths quickened. You nearly trip over your carpet when Laia walks you back to your couch. 

Her lips are like sweet candy you’ve never tasted before, her skin burning hot to your touch. She kept her hands on your waist, pulling away panting. 

“Do you want this?” 

“More than anything, Laia.” 

She presses her lips to yours again, hands much braver to explore you. The center-back reaches for your bra and unclasps it expertly, taking a breast in her mouth eagerly. 

“You’ve –ah fuck–you’ve done this before…” you gasp, back arching into her mouth. She rips her head away from you and you whine, her hand kneading the other breast expertly. 

“Sí, one or twice,” Laia responds, a naughty grin on her face. She leaves hickeys all over your chest, suckling softly on your nipple that hardened in her mouth. You whimper, hands tangled in Laia’s hair. 

“Eres tan hermosa amor,” 

“Fuck, keep talking to me Laia,” you whisper, pulling the Spaniard closer to you. She buries her face in your neck, kissing and sucking while her hands pull your leg over hers. Slender fingers slip into your underwear and a deep giggle rings in your ears when the fingers feel your soaked folds. 

“¿Estás tan mojada por un maldito extraño, cariño? Wet for a stranger?” 

“Y–Yes,” you whisper, eyes closing tightly as you feel Laia’s fingers slowly rub your clit. Her fingers are gentle but apply appropriate pressure, little shocks of pleasure surge up into your body. She takes your breast back into her mouth and sucks hard, pushing you into a flurry of ecstacy. 

“Does that feel good, amor?” Laia asks cheekily, fingers teasing themselves against your pussy. Your hips grind up and down into the feeling, her fingers naughtily pull away. She pushes you up against the armrest of the couch while she kneels before you. Your legs open themselves for her and she smiles, kissing up your legs. Her slightly rough hands send goosebumps all over your skin, breath catching in your throat. 

“More…” you beg in French, noticing that Laia immediately understands. Her hands press your hips down and her kisses begin to move higher and higher, closer and closer to your core. 

Laia leaves hickeys all over your inner thighs, licking and sucking hard on your skin. You’re all red when she moves to your core, hair slightly tousled. You pull her up and kiss her passionately, tongues exploring each other’s mouths. 

“Where do you want me touching you, sweetheart?” Laia asks, hands gliding over your tummy and inner thighs. 

“Down there,” you point, feeling a pillow rest behind your head. You fidget and get comfortable, hands aching to take care of your little problem. Laia gets comfortable beside you and shushes you, slender fingers circling your clit again. She’s slow with her movements and nibbles on your ear, feeling your body lean into hers softly. 

“Here?” Laia asks smugly, free hand slipping underneath your neck to cradle your head. You nod and your head turns into her neck and you bite a dark hickey under her ear. Laia moans, fingers slipping into your pussy which pulls a groan out of you. 

The pads of her fingertips find your sweet spot a little too easily and it sends pure pleasure through your veins. Her palm rubs on your clit and you groan, breath hot on Laia’s neck. 

“You look so pretty like this, princesa,” Laia teases, “I bet you’re prettier when you come, no?” 

Her fingers inside you make space for a third, your appreciation of being touched goes unnoticed by her; the sound of how wet you are appeals to her ego. She growls in your ear and you gush, arousal sticking to her fingers. 

“You’re getting close, sí?”

“Yes, so fucking close!” 

“Mmh, been wanting to see you come the moment I laid eyes on you,” Laia whispers into your ear, her hands speeding up inside you. They press right against your sweet spot, eyes seeing blinding white when your orgasm sneaks up on you. 

“Fuck!” 

You grip her arms and your back arches fully off the bed, her fingers don’t stop till you’re seeing stars. You search for her lips and smash them on yours, taking in her breath and your whines. She pulls away and her fingers fill your mouth. 

“Clean them up, that’s a good girl,” 

You suck on her digits sloppily, saliva running down her hand and forearm. Your eyes never leave hers, boring deep into her deep brown ones. 

“Want you to ride my face,” you whisper. Laia, taken aback, goes wide-eyed and nods slowly, kissing you hard. You lay back on the couch and Laia climbs on top of you. She’s cautious but with a little encouragement from you, she kneels over you and gently sits on your tongue. 

Your hands hold her up and she begins to grind down on you slowly. Her jaw slacks and you groan against her clit, licking up all her built up arousal. Her hands grip your hair like you did earlier, hips grinding down harder and faster the more you lick. 

Your tongue finds her hole and slips in; Laia groans and bounces just a little to ride it. Your hands however, enjoy kneading her firm ass as they help her grind on top of you. 

You’re sure your chin is pruned with how wet she is, fingers coming around her body to flick at her clit. Laia’s eyes find yours and she zeroes in on your gaze as her thighs start to shake. The invisible pull behind her belly button becomes too much to hold in and the moment you feel her muscle tension go away, she comes right on your tongue. 

This was not how you saw your night going when you picked the phone at the restaurant but it was a night to remember. 

She climbs off your face and grins stupidly, grabbing your face to taste herself off you. She moans and is intentionally sloppy with her kisses, whining when the taste of her lingers on your tongue. 

Laia’s eyes go dark and she flips you over. You’re sat on her thigh and her strong hands guide your hips to start moving. Your clit, soaked in even more slick, creates the perfect environment for riding her thigh. Your hips rock slowly, pressing down hard to increase your pleasure. 

Your hands wrap around her neck and your face tucked into the side. She whispers dirty things into your ear in Spanish, her deep voice sends chills down your spine; you’re sure you’ve never been more attracted to anyone in your life. 

“Such a good girl, making yourself come on me hm?” 

“Oui,” you whine, sucking on her neck to make the bruises you left earlier even darker. She spanks your ass and sucks on your breast again, being sure to suckle hard. Your thighs burn but you keep riding, breath unsteady as your second orgasm builds inside of you. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum…” 

“Ven por mí, princesa.”

You do, riding her thigh hard and fast. Your thighs shake like hers did, kissing her soft lips messily. You pant into each others mouths, feeling smiles appear on your faces. 

“That was awesome,” you tell her, slipping into her arms on the couch. She’s still smiling as she nods, leaning in to kiss you again. She wraps her arms tight around your middle, when the sound of the tv turning on startles the both of you. 

“Frankie!” you scream, seeing the pearly white beast standing on the coffee table on the remote. 

The replay of the group stage Spain-Brazil game was on. Laia’s face was on the jumbotron. 

You look from the tv to the girl whose arms you’re sitting in and see the resemblance. Your jaw drops and your heart rate goes up.

You just slept with the Spanish center-back who was here for the Olympics. An Olympian.

“So when you said your house wasn’t and I quote “...exactly one-night stand friendly,” you were talking about the fucking Olympic village?!” 

“Uh, yes?” 

“I’m gonna kill you,” you say with gritted teeth, turning around in her arms. She jumps off the couch, leaving you to chase her all over your little apartment. Frankie curls up in the warm spot near the heater and watches you two act like children, tail swishing amusedly. 

“How about!” Laia says breathlessly when you corner her in the kitchen, still stark fucking naked, “I’ll get you tickets to the quarterfinals and take you out on a proper date, my treat, to make it up to you?” 

“I want a kiss for every goal your team scores at the end, tell Alexia and Jenni they better get to scoring if you want them.” 

“Deal.” 

Laia got a total of six kisses broadcasted on the very same jumbotron at the Colombia game, but the sight of you in her jersey was just as good if not better than the picture of you two kissing that was pinned on the wall at your parents restaurant.

[cheeseceli]

Their s/o is a songwriter

Pairing: idol Ot8!skz × songwriter Gn!reader (individually)

Genre: fluff, headcanon, idol!au

Request: so what if skz finding out their partner is a song writer / composer? bonus points if the skz members also found out that they wrote their favourite song :>

Warnings: reader is implied to write for Kpop most of the time, not proofread.

A/n: as a songwriter, I appreciate this request a whole lot lmao. Thank you for requesting, I hope you like it!

Bang Chan

Honestly, I think this is something he would find out before dating you

Man knows everyone in the whole entertainment industry

Ofc he knows who you are

If anything, the way you both got to know each other more was through working together to make a stray kids song

Overall, I think he would love to have a partner in the industry

Even if you never get to be on stage

Simply because you understand him more than other people do

You know how music is essential and demanding at the same time

Your job probably makes him feel more connected to you

He likes to joke that you're the newest member of 3Racha

Always sends you songs he made your you to listen

And wants you to do the same

You can send him an audio at 1AM and bro will listen to it right away, ready to give you his opinion and advice (and praise)

Lee Know

Poor stray kids and stay

They will be listening to the songs you worked on nonstop

He just happens to be your biggest supporter 🤷🏻‍♀️

Has a whole 10 hours playlist with all of your work

Knows every lyric even if they aren't Korean

And he also enjoys dancing to it very much

Even if the song doesn't have a choreo, he likes to make up his own by listening to what you did

Probably invented a few trends with your songs because of it lmao

He also listens to it a lot when he's on tour

Even if it's not your voice that he's listening to, it's still you somewhat

He just wants to feel close to you

Asks you to sing or play the songs you produced

Might or might not have a small compilation of audios of you singing when he's way too homesick

(And if you wrote his favourite song, he would definitely have an audio of you singing it)

Changbin

Sees you as a very big inspiration

The amount of times he listened to one of your songs so he could get out of creative block is crazy

If anything, he probably already saw you as a role model before even getting to personally know you

Imagine the seo changbin fan boying you

If you write for other K-pop groups/soloists, he's probably trying to make references of what you wrote in his own rap

Fans always think he's talking about a certain idol or something but he really is just trying to include you in his work😭

And he would beg to have at least one stray kids song cowrote by you

Like literally begging

He needs to have one small Collab with you at least once

And will get a little pouty every time you can't work with skz because you're with another group at the moment

Hyunjin

Loves to have songwriting dates with you

Usually releases the songs you both write (with your permission ofc) as a skz-recorder

Stays are starting to wonder who is that composer/songwriter who is behind every single song Hyunjin is in lmao

I remember he said that one of his goals for 2024 was to produce more

So he will 100% seek your advice and even ask for some particular lessons at times

And he is always a little bit shy when he's about to show you what he's been working on

Because he feels like you are THE songwriter

And you're also his partner so like

Your opinion is a very big deal

And he's also so excited when you let him listen to a preview of your newest work

Is always awestruck

(Any song of yours would be his favourite lmao, and the best part of it is that he means it)

Han

He would LOVE to have a partner in the industry

Or just connected to art somehow, even if it's just a hobbie

I mean, look at his lyrics

Bro inhales and exhales art

The fact that you understand this side of him and even share this interest is so what he needed

He's also very very helpful when you need to write songs

I see late night dates in the studio

Even when any of you is far away for whatever reason

It can be 2am in Korea, he will be on his phone more than willing to listen to you brainstorm

Brainstorming with Han would be very fun overall lmao

It's either going to be the most sentimental thing to ever exist or it's going to be complete nonsense lmao

Oh and he would also make a lot of references to things you wrote

And would be so so so so happy if you ever made a reference to a work of his

Felix

I remember he said once that if he wasn't an idol, he would like to be a professional songwriter

So the fact that YOU are a songwriter/producer

He kinda loves you a little bit too much

One thing he loves is to understand your thought process

If you ever let him see your notes,he will try his best to understand every little thing

Even if it's only words with no correlation all over the page

He loves to know how your mind works

And he wants to know where the inspiration comes from!

(If it's from him he will never shut up about it)

Loves to know the stories behind each one of your works

He feels like he gets to know you a little more every time he listens to something that is yours

Is always covering one of your songs on lives

Seungmin

Literally everything you could've asked for, both in the dating aspects and in professional aspects

He makes sure you never overwork but will never restrain you from your work

Like, he knows that sometimes the inspiration comes at 2AM. He won't shut off your notebook, he'll be up with you and guarantee you don't stress

And he's your most honest critic

If you need help with rhymes, structure, chords or whatever, he is there

(After dating him you rarely browse anything at Google anymore, seungmin always understands the specific vibes you want)

And if you are a songwriter/ composer who doesn't know how to sing (that's me criticising myself) he always volunteers to make the demo for your songs

As I said, everything you could've ever asked for in a partner and coworker

I.N

Now this one

The moment he discovered he was begging to see some of your work

It's crazy how many of your songs were included in the playlist he has of songs that remind him of you😭

Talk about soulmates

I also believe that he would love to help you with songs

Give him one chance and this man is already with a notebook open trying to come up with the best verse ever

But he really likes to hear you brainstorm as well

Just you in your comfort zone really makes him admire you

And he loves how he can feel closer to you

Just reading the lyrics you wrote ou listening to the beat you produced makes him feel like he is meeting you for the first time again

Always having a new impression of you

Will also sing any demos you want him to!

Masterlist | you'll probably like: if skz wrote a song for you

Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Taglist: @yuyubeans

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

do you have any particular rap recommendations? i'm open to the genre but i haven't really vibed musically with any of the more popular rap artists. i'd really like to listen to more of it but i just don't know where to really start looking

god do I ever. I have no idea who you haven't previously vibed with so if I say someone you don't like then cope, I'm telling you about my personal favorites.

first and foremost remember that love of my life Janelle Monáe raps like hell

Little Simz is simply electric and her album Sometimes I Might Be Introvert is one of the most breathtaking audio experiences I've ever had

Dua Saleh makes me insaaaaane xyr music is so good and also frequently NASTY gay shit (as linked)

I looove Doechii she hits you going like 4000 miles per hour brain go BRRRRRRRR

I just got into Flyana Boss when they opened up for Janelle on tour last year, they're so cute and funny and their energy is incredible

Tierra Whack does a lot of kooky silly shit I adore her

I never really got into BROCKHAMPTON but Kevin Abstract is my #1 sad gay man, this whole album is everything to me

I don't know, like, anything about Aminé outside of his music but that's fine because his music fucks like hell

and I'd be remiss if I didn't include Megan Thee Stallion and a song that reduces me to emotional shambles

[eiightysixbaby]

personal jesus

word count: 8.6k

pairing: stripper!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: your friends take you out to a strip club for your birthday, and you really hit it off with one particular stripper….

cw: 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI. mentions of alcohol consumption, billy is in this fic (I promise he’s not in it for very long it just makes perfect sense for him to be a stripper OKAY 😭) lap dances, depictions of sensual dancing/strip routines, oral (m & f receiving), very brief mention of spanking, spit kink, unprotected piv, creampie

author’s note: well. I’ve been working on this for a while now and I’m extremely happy that it’s finally ready to be shared! I highly recommend listening to personal jesus by depeche mode while you read this, considering the entire idea for this came to me while listening to that song! I hope you all enjoy, I put a lot of time into this and I hope it shows.

It’s your birthday. A day to celebrate you turning another year older. Another year closer to death, and another year painfully single and alone.

Okay, so you were being dramatic. Turning 25 doesn’t exactly make you geriatric, but seeing the people close to you hit milestones in their relationships had you feeling a little insecure on this particular birthday. Nancy was engaged, Robin and Vickie just celebrated their 3 year anniversary of dating, Chrissy and Steve had finally made things official a month ago and were sickeningly cute together. It just had you longing for a connection.

You’d had horrible luck with guys lately, and it was weighing on you. You wanted someone special to spend your day with, someone to hold you at night and stick by you forever. Or, at this point, you were even okay with just having a little fun. Any sort of male attention was fine with you, wanting to end the drought you’d been experiencing.

So, it was only natural that the girls decided to take you to a strip club this evening. The car pulls up to the door of the seedy looking building, everything very discreet from the outside. You’re wearing a shimmery silver dress with very thin straps, the fabric stopping above your mid thigh. Sheer black tights with tiny sequins adorn your legs, accompanied by silver heels with straps that you wrap around your lower legs and tie. You step out of your Uber and into the parking lot, heels clicking on the pavement. Here goes nothing.

You pull the door open, being greeted by a rush of blasting air conditioning, and the strong smell of alcohol and cologne. You see all of your friends at a table close to the stage at the center of the floor, and they immediately turn and wave at you. You prance over to them eagerly, receiving hugs from all of them along with shrill ‘Happy Birthday!’s. Robin immediately pulls out a sparkly sash that reads ‘Birthday Girl’ and throws it over your head, letting it rest diagonally across your body. Her and Vickie had actually come up with this idea for tonight, knowing it would be fun for you to let loose a little. You all start to catch up with one another, diving into the latest gossip and life updates.

Conversation lulls briefly, Chrissy taking this as her opportunity to pull out a tray of homemade cupcakes from their hiding spot under her chair, Nancy sticking candles in each one.

“Guys, do we really have to sing?” you groan, smiling despite your reluctance.

“Yes! We have to sing you happy birthday!” Chrissy insists, her delicate hands grabbing your forearms gently and squeezing. “You’re 25! This is exciting!!”

Nancy’s hands hold a small lighter, fingers cupping around each candle as she lights them individually. The diamond on her ring finger glistens in the lights of the club, catching your eye. You snap yourself out of the self-deprecating thoughts before they can even start, remembering where you are and how tonight is about you. Once every candle is lit, the girls gather close around the table, singing happy birthday to you rather loudly and theatrically. You’re a flustered mess as you giggle at them, blowing out your candles swiftly after they finish. They all clap and cheer, Vickie passing cupcakes around on small plates to everyone. You order a drink, your personal favorite, deciding you need to catch up with your friends who already have their beverages.

The lights in the club dim as you take a bite into your cupcake, strawberry icing greeting your tongue. A spotlight shines on the curtain at the back of the stage, and several whoops and hollers erupt from club patrons, including you and your friends. Your drink is placed in front of you by a server, and you take a sip, letting the alcohol sear your mouth. An electric buzz runs through you as the first sip travels down your throat, and the house music cuts. A new song begins and your heart starts racing. As excited as you were, you’d never been to a strip club before, and you felt your cheeks grow hot in anticipation.

The song that plays is ‘Pony’ by Ginuwine, you recognize it instantly. As cliche of a choice as it might be, you can’t pretend like it isn’t the perfect song for something like this.

The curtains flutter and a male figure appears, your head whipping in his direction in an instant. You can’t deny, he’s gorgeous. Big blue eyes, curly caramel hair styled into a mullet, but it totally works on him. His teeth are perfect, and his body, oh his body. He’s wearing leather pants and a white button up shirt. Most of the buttons are undone, exposing his muscular chest. The sleeves of the shirt are rolled up to his elbows, and you can tell his biceps are begging to break out of the fabric. He has a black bowtie snug around his neck, and for some reason it makes him all the more attractive. The crowd cheers as he parades around the stage, holding his arms out in greeting as he walks the perimeter. He makes a show of undoing the last few buttons on his shirt, fingers slowly popping them out one by one. You and your friends cheer excitedly, all of you in fits of eager giggles.

“This one is Billy,” Robin leans in and whispers to you. “I was informed there’d be three performers tonight, and based on the stars in your eyes we’re off to a great start,” she teases you, and you swat her away with a laugh, eyes still trained on the stripper, who you now know to be named Billy.

He trails his hand down his bare chest slowly, grinding his hips into his hand when it hovers over his crotch. You’re practically swooning in your seat and based on the wolf whistles erupting from women around you, you’re not the only one. He takes his shirt off fully, throwing it into the crowd haphazardly. He parades around a little bit more, showing off that spectacular body, before he stills and the lights change color. The song starts to fade out, fading into a different one.

‘Closer’ by Nine Inch Nails begins to play through the speakers, and you notice movement behind the black curtain once more. Another man steps out, a striking contrast to Billy. He’s lankier, very thin, and his energy is far more submissive. It’s attractive all the same, and your eyes turn their focus to him. He has a head of shaggy brown hair and bangs that fall in his light brown eyes. His arms and chest aren’t as toned as Billy’s, but it works for him. He’s also wearing the black leather pants and white button up that Billy came out in, finished off with the same black bowtie. He commands the room better than you’d have expected him to, kneeling on the floor of the stage, leaning back on one hand as he rolls his hips upwards. He moves fluidly, and the way his hand glides down to grab his dick beneath his pants makes you sweat.

“Who- who’s that one?” you ask the table, leaning into their personal space a bit too far - but you’ll blame the alcohol.

“Jonathan,” Vickie smiles, and you’re impressed that they seemingly did their research before coming here tonight.

Jonathan and Billy both walk to the end of the stage, right in front of your table, and they both catch the sash you’re wearing. They wink at you, somehow in unison although it couldn’t have been planned, merely a glorious coincidence, and you give a flirtatious little wave in their direction. Jonathan shrugs his shirt off of his shoulders, throwing it in the opposite direction of the crowd as Billy had thrown his. It’s funny, but until now you didn’t even take note of the shiny metal poles fixed to the stage. Each man positions himself at one, and your eyes are transfixed on them. You can’t wrap your head around the way the two of them spin on the poles, how strong they must be to support their bodies like that. Billy has toned arms and a defined chest, so he fits the type, but Jonathan… you wouldn’t have expected this sort of strength from him. You’re absolutely entranced watching them move, and you don’t know how much time has passed before the music starts to fade again and the lights dim.

Various whoops and hollers erupt once more, wolf-whistles and claps of hands, and you can only assume whoever’s about to come out next is the crowd favorite. You chew on your lip in anticipation, watching as Billy and Jonathan simply walk back towards the curtain, standing in front of it unmoving. The previous song has completely faded out, the room dead silent for the first time since you got here. It only lasts a moment, though, before a new song announces itself over the speakers, without warning.

Reach out and touch faith.

‘Personal Jesus’ by Depeche Mode, it’s not a hard one to clock after that opening line. The curtains open in the dark, a spotlight coming on to illuminate the new figure. Your jaw drops when you see him, luckily catching yourself before your drink falls from your hand. You don’t need any more explanation as to why he’s the fan favorite stripper. He’s gorgeous - long brown curls cascading over his shoulders, a sheet of wavy bangs falling just above his eyes. He has a silver lip ring, and a piece of black jewelry in his left eyebrow. He glides his tongue along his top row of teeth in a smug open-mouthed chuckle, knowing the effect he has on the room. He wears the same leather pants, but he has a black button-up shirt on in place of the white ones the other two men were wearing. The way he moves in perfect time with this song makes you believe he must have lots of practice - this is his song and he’s making that clear. He walks easily to the end of the stage, stopping right in front of your table. He unbuttons his shirt in the most sensual fashion you think you’ve ever seen, nimble fingers drawing out every movement, making it take longer than it truly needs to. You can’t help but giggle when Billy and Jonathan come to his sides, pulling the garment off of him. The shirt gets tossed directly at you, the glowing birthday girl, and you gasp in surprise.

“And this one,” Nancy leans in close to your ear, “-is Eddie,” she winks at you, your hands clutching the shirt as you stare up at the man on the stage.

He’s even more glorious with his shirt off, his body littered with tattoos that you think you might want to lick. He has a tie around his neck, not a bowtie but a standard tie, and he tugs on it with force, dropping himself to his knees as if yanked by a leash. His eyes meet yours, unwavering as he watches you. Deep pools of brown that you feel like you could drown in. He lowers his torso to the ground, reaching a hand out and closing his fingers maybe two feet from your face, as if grabbing something.

Reach out and touch faith.

He’s grinding against the floor now, Billy and Jonathan entertaining different groups in the crowd from different sides of the stage. Eddie leans back on his heels, rolling his hips up into the air, one hand tugging on that damn tie and the other gliding slowly down his body. He grips his crotch, the shiny silver rings that adorn his fingers glistening from the bright lights above. You think you see Chrissy literally swoon beside you, and even Nancy’s biting her lip, cheeks flushed pink. Robin and Vickie are slack-jawed - impressed with the way these three guys know how to command the attention of a room. Your heart pounds in your chest with every rumble of the bass over the blaring speakers, your brain melting into a euphoric feeling.

Just as you think you’re able to catch your breath, Eddie jumps down from the stage. Oh god. He approaches you, standing with his legs apart, leaving room for your legs to rest between his. He bends down to your ear, one hand gripping the back of your chair.

“Think the birthday girl deserves a special show, hm?” he rasps into your ear, and you feel your skin grow hot.

His hips roll in front of your face, you’re eye-level with his crotch. Your skin feels white-hot, you know all the attention in the room must be on this scene and you’re both flattered and a little shy. You have to refrain from reaching out to Eddie, have to refrain from letting your fingers glide up his stomach, feel him. As if reading your mind, though, he grabs your hands, sliding them up his stomach and chest, encouraging you. You’re so taken with him you don’t register that the other two strippers have joined him until Billy’s murmuring in your ear from behind you.

“Happy Birthday, sweetheart,” his honey voice drawls, hands resting on one of your shoulders.

Jonathan comes to stand behind you as well, and in his hand is a shot of whatever liquor the girls had ordered for you. He holds it where you can see it, your head tilted back to look at him. He gives you a smile - one that momentarily shatters the raunchy stripper vibe and reveals his true kindness. He quirks an eyebrow, waiting for you.

“Open,” Eddie says, smirking down at you while he resumes in giving you a lap dance, his hips grinding lower over your lap now. He’s as close as he can be without pressing his full weight on you.

Lift up the receiver, I’ll make you a believer

Your lips part, your whole body vibrating as Jonathan tips the shot glass down towards your mouth. The liquid falls in a single stream onto your tongue, and you swallow it in one go.

“Mmm, she knows how to swallow,” Eddie purrs, and you feel your face heat up under his intense stare.

You can only imagine the looks on your friends’ faces, but you hear their cheers for you along with the rustling of dollar bills that you can only assume are being shoved in the guys’ pants. Jonathan and Billy turn to head back on stage, but not before turning back to get one last eyeful of you. You blow kisses at them, giggling when they pretend to catch them. Eddie’s still focused on you, still invading your personal space. You’re squeezing your thighs together beneath your tight little dress, looking right into his eyes as he laughs to himself. He stands, walking around your chair slowly. Your left hand slips bills into his tight pants, your fingers lingering just a moment too long. Feeling a little bold, you grab his tie with your other hand and tug on it playfully, almost catching him off guard but he steels himself. He quirks an eyebrow at you, now standing behind you. He bends down, gravelly voice rumbling in your ear.

“You have no idea what that does to me, sweetheart.”

Your own personal Jesus

Eddie’s lips nearly touch your earlobe as he speaks. The way his breath makes your skin tingle can only be described as a religious experience. Ringed fingers caress your arm before he picks up your hand, placing a kiss to the back of your palm. He teasingly bites one of your fingers, flustering you for probably the millionth time tonight. He finally retreats, mouthing one last ‘happy birthday’ as he returns to the stage. He’s not done with his show though, joining his costars for a little bit of action on the pole that waits for him. His leather pants squeeze his ass so tight, you hope you’re not drooling as you watch him. You suddenly wish he was back on your lap, murmuring filthy things into your ear, fucking you senseless. But you can’t hook up with the stripper, you remind yourself, and you try to wave the thoughts away as you watch the rest of his little performance.

There’s no denying the way he locks eyes with you any moment he can, strong limbs wrapping around the pole as he seems to effortlessly spin a little. Chrissy reaches out to touch your arm, giggling excitedly.

“He can’t stop looking at you, ohmygosh!” she squeaks, pulling her lip between her teeth as you meet Eddie’s eyes once more, as if to confirm her statement.

“Where do I inquire about adopting a stripper?” Robin asks jokingly. “Yeah, um, I’d like to take that one home please… and can we wrap him in a pretty bow?” she says, pretending like she’s talking on the phone to someone important. “Seriously, I think he likes you,” she says to you, tone serious once more.

“Guys, come on. Do you know how many girls he probably does this same exact routine to?” you say, waving a hand dismissively and trying to be lighthearted, but you can’t deny the sting in your chest when you say the words.

Eddie is a stripper. This is a routine - a money maker. It’s all just a calculated game to him. He probably treats every other birthday girl the same way he treated you. Your mouth feels dry suddenly, and you throw back another shot to hopefully drown out the incoming sadness. Even if it’s a routine, it doesn’t make him any less hot, and it doesn’t mean you still can’t have fun, you think to yourself. You focus your eyes back up at the three gorgeous men on stage, watch as they move in unison, gyrating and touching their bodies and each others’ bodies. Cash is being thrown to the stage around them, raining down as the lights flash and pulse. Eddie keeps catching your eyes, winking at you for good measure. The alcohol in your system enhances the effect he has on you. He’s so close to you yet so far, you want to grab a hold of him and pull him to you.

Reach out and touch faith

The song comes to a steady close, music fading as the guys all bow and blow kisses and wave. You and your friends are all clapping and cheering with giddy delight, your head a wonderful swirl of explicit thoughts. They slip back behind the curtain, one by one, and your heart pangs for a moment when Eddie gives one last pointed wave in the direction of your table before disappearing behind the black velvet.

“Oh. My. God!” Chrissy’s mouth is agape, her lips shiny from her sparkly lipgloss. She fans herself, mock-fainting back into her chair, making the whole table laugh. You must sound like a bunch of schoolgirls, blushing and fussing over a few pretty boys.

“So, like, we’re not gonna drop the fact that Eddie is totally in love with you, right?” Robin asks, turning her body to face you.

You roll your eyes, fingers pressing into her arm as you shove her oh-so-gently. “Stoooop. He is not in love with me,” you say, biting on your lip to hold back a smile.

“You can’t even say that with a straight face! You, at least, are in love with him,” she says matter of factly, nodding her head once with finality.

“I am not!” you meekly defend, taking a bite of another cupcake to avoid talking more.

“Oh come on, babe, you’re not fooling me. I’m not into the guys, I was just watching for your reactions the whole time. You are sooo crazy for him,” she laughs, Vickie nodding along as she talks.

You feel your cheeks heat to an impossible temperature, shaking your head incessantly as you continue to devour your dessert.

“Hey, at least he gave you a little souvenir,” Nancy says, nodding towards the shirt that he’d thrown at you, which now rests on the table top. You’d nearly forgotten about it. The fact that it was once on his gorgeous body, and now you have it, makes your head spin.

The topic of conversation eventually shifts, easing the pressure on you to answer their every question about Eddie. Your thoughts, however, linger on him. You were totally fucking into him, and you’re screwed. All he was doing was acting out a routine, probably something he does for every birthday girl or bachelorette that steps foot in here and has money to offer. That fact didn’t stop you from wanting him, though, your mind wandering to how it would feel to have those rings of his pressed deep inside of you, his lip ring cold against your mouth and the skin of your neck.

“Hello? Anybody home in there? Did you have too much to drink? Oh my god, are we gonna have to take you to the hospital on your twenty-fifth birthday?” Robin’s voice breaks you from your trance, your eyes widening in realization that you’d totally drifted off to outer space for a minute there.

“What? Oh god, no. I’m fine, sorry, just zoned out a bit,” you give them a reassuring smile, not wanting them to press you again about the too-attractive men that were all over you tonight.

“No worries, we were saying we were probably gonna get going, it’s pretty late,” Vickie jumps in, sticking out her thumb and motioning towards the door.

“Oh, yeah, of course! I’m getting tired anyways,” you affirm, moving to stand with the rest of the table.

You bid your friends goodbye, giving each of them a hug and thanking them for setting this outing up for you. You decide to hit the bathroom before you leave, declining Nancy’s offer of a ride home, so they all go on without you. You make your usual promises to text them soon and plan another get together before they leave you, stepping out into the cool night and going home.

Entering the bathroom, you find that you’re alone, much to your relief. You stare at yourself in the mirror, genuinely enjoying your appearance tonight. You wonder if Eddie thought you looked good, too. You let yourself wonder if he truly was interested in you like your friends were insisting. Sighing, you sit down on the toilet, pressing your palms to your cheeks and tugging the skin down frustratedly. You wish you’d been in a setting where you could’ve asked Eddie for his number or something, or even just actually had the chance to talk to him, to hold a conversation.

You’re lost in your thoughts as you finish up in the bathroom, making your way towards the door to leave. The chill of the air conditioning suddenly feels too cold, giving you goosebumps, and you quickly throw on the shirt Eddie had given you to keep yourself warmer. It’s the only cover-up you have, so, what else could you do? You totally don’t think about how it smells like him as you approach the exit. Your palm presses against the glass door, heaving it open in front of you. Heels step onto pavement, your eyes searching your bag to ensure you have everything. But as you’re looking, you bump into another figure.

“Oh shit! I’m sor-” you go to say, but the words evaporate into thin air when you see who you’d run into.

His leather jacket covers his arms and torso, dark brown curls draped over his shoulders. He has a cigarette dangling from his full pink lips, and a silver lip ring catches the light from the parking lot lamps for just a moment as he turns. Deep brown eyes meet yours, a soft expression on them. He recognizes you instantly, of course.

“Oh, hey, sweetheart. I’m sorry, I should’ve been paying more attention,” he apologizes sincerely, eyes raking over your frame, but not in a way that makes you feel small or uncomfortable.

“No, that’s my fault too. Sorry,” you admit, looking down at your high-heeled feet. You’re suddenly shy, and you wish you had some more liquid courage to down right about now.

“I’m Eddie, by the way. If you didn’t catch it earlier,” he says, holding a hand out for you to shake.

“Y/N,” you tell him your name, taking his hand in your far softer grip, bouncing them once in a greeting.

“Nice shirt,” he says, eyeing the black button down that rests loosely on your body.

“O-oh! Did you want it back?” you ask, embarrassment creeping up your spine. He wasn’t supposed to see you in his shirt, it was just to keep you warm until you could get home and change. Your eyes look towards the ground, suddenly too shy to look at him even though he’d quite literally been grinding on you an hour ago.

“Keep it,” he says, smiling brilliantly at you. “Looks better on you, anyways.”

“Thank you,” you say, voice impossibly quiet. A small smile tugs on the corners of your lips. Why is your heart pounding so hard?

“You don’t have to be nervous around me, sweetheart,” he continues as if reading your thoughts, and his deep syrupy voice is reassuring as he places a gentle hand on your arm. “Promise I don’t bite…. unless you want me to,” he says, giving you a cute little smirk.

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, holding back a giggle. You scrape the toe of your shoe on the concrete absentmindedly, looking down at it as Eddie watches you.

“Did y’have a nice birthday?” he asks coolly, his index and middle finger delicately holding the cigarette at his side as he leans against the wall of the building.

You feel your cheeks heat, and you curl your lips inward to hide your smile a little. “I had a great birthday,” you say finally. You shove your nerves down, reminding yourself of the way he was all over you before. Maybe your friends were right, maybe he really is into you.

You feel like the universe is giving you a chance here, giving you an opportunity to talk to Eddie one-on-one like you’d wanted. Better not fuck it up, you think as you prepare your next words. “There was this really hot stripper that made the day so much better…” you trail off, shyness still evident but feeling more confident under the way he eyes you up.

“Oh? Tell me more about him,” Eddie says, stepping ever so slightly closer to you.

“Well, he’s tall and muscular and so handsome, and he has really sexy tattoos…” you say, flashing him a brilliant smile as he watches you through hooded eyes, “and he just made me feel so special, and it’s such a shame I couldn’t get his number or anything…..” you sigh exaggeratedly, your doe eyes looking up at him.

Eddie smiles, and you swear it looks shy, like he isn’t used to the compliments or the attention. Like he doesn’t do what he does for a living.

“Well, I’ll have you know there was this girl… I hear it’s her birthday, actually, and she just made my shift so much better than it could have been,” he rambles. “She was just the prettiest thing,” he says, not breaking your gaze as he does.

“Oh, yeah?” you reply, tilting your chin up to him.

“Yeah,” he says softly, looking down the bridge of his nose at you. “And I think I can do her one better than just giving her my number,” he murmurs, pulling you against his chest.

“What did you have in mind?” you ask, half-lidded eyes flitting from his lips to his eyes and back down again. He purses his lips in a smirk, stomping his cigarette out with the toe of his shoe.

“Why don’t you come back to my place and I’ll show you?”

“Hm. That depends. You’re not a serial killer, are you?” you ask, teasing.

“Oh, shoot, sweetheart. You caught me,” Eddie says, holding his hands over his eyes and peering through his fingers.

You laugh, and he thinks about how he’d like to hear that sound a lot more. He reaches a hand out for you to take, nodding down at it. “Whaddya say? Care to join me?” he asks, and you meet his eyes as he peers through his bangs at you.

His open hand waits, silver rings catching the fluorescent light from the lamps in the parking lot. It beckons you, asking you to take it. The song from earlier rings in your head.

Reach out and touch faith

You take his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “Lead the way, handsome.”

Eddie’s vehicle is nice, extremely nice, actually. It’s a black Jeep, black leather seats with red details and stitching. The money he makes at the club clearly pays off, you suppose. Hell, you’d seen how much cash he’d been thrown tonight alone - including what you’d contributed. He has a pair of red fuzzy dice that hang from the mirror, and you can’t help but laugh to yourself as you swat them once, making them sway where they hang.

“Are you laughing at my dice, sweetheart?” he asks, shuffling into his own seat.

“Oh, no. I’d never,” you say, biting back a smile.

His sparkling eyes don’t leave yours, pulling you in, refusing to let you go. You notice his tongue dart out to wet his lips, notice the way he leans ever so slightly towards you. The tension in the closed space suddenly grows palpable, like you could slice it with your fingernail if you reached out.

You don’t make it to Eddie’s place. You don’t even make it out of the parking lot.

You’re the one to close the distance between the two of you, leaning over the center console of the car to press your lips to his. He grunts in pleasant surprise, his hands finding their way to your cheeks as he deepens the kiss. Your heart is racing, thoughts going a mile a minute as you process the fact that this is really happening. You can feel the metal of the ring adorning his bottom lip as your mouth glides against his, the jewelry not getting in the way but remaining noticeable. His tongue doesn’t ask for permission, just slides its way past your parted lips. It mingles with yours, swapping spit back and forth in a heated encounter. You bite his bottom lip and tug, toying with the metal ring with your teeth. He whines, pulling away from you the slightest bit, eyes half lidded as he jerks his head to the side, motioning to the backseat.

“Get in the back,” he pants, “need you right here, right now.”

You oblige, opting to get out of the car and actually go in through the back door rather than climbing ungracefully over your seat. Eddie follows suit, crawling towards you like an animal stalking its prey, not satisfied till his face hovers over yours, his mouth dipping down to meet your soft lips. He captures them briefly before pulling away again, moving down further to press kisses to your jawline, your neck, your collarbone. You feel his tongue and teeth against the skin, biting, sucking, licking. You whimper beneath him, raising your hips to brush against his. The chuckle that leaves his mouth sends a shiver down your spine, one of his strong hands coming down to push your hips firmly against the seat.

“Such a needy thing, hm?” he tuts, looking up at you with those big doe eyes before he resumes kissing your neck.

His hand holds you in place like it’s easy work, keeping you still when your body tries to writhe beneath him. The smell of his cologne fills your nose, intoxicating as you breathe it in along with the whisper of cigarette smoke from the one he’d had mere minutes ago. The chain around his neck dangles low, the guitar pick pendant brushing the dip between your breasts that your dress leaves partially exposed.

You remember the way he teased you inside the club, remember the way he let you tug on his tie, the way his hips gyrated above your lap. You grow wetter at the memories, more than ready to actually get to have him now. You pull his shirt off of your shoulders, playfully tossing it at him, mimicking the way he’d tossed it at you. His eyes go wide at it, a hand pressing to his forehead as he pretends to swoon, making you laugh. The shirt gets discarded to the floor, Eddie leaning back over your frame. He shoves the neckline of your dress down, freeing your tits for him. You went braless tonight and you’re thanking yourself for it, the ease with which he takes one of your peaked nipples into his mouth sending you reeling. He sucks on one, then the other, his hand always toying with the mound of flesh that isn’t currently being entertained by his tongue.

“Eddie,” you whine, arching your chest further into his touch.

“What is it, baby?” he purrs, the hand on your hip now skirting down your thigh, reaching the hem of your dress and hiking the fabric upwards.

“Please,” you reply breathlessly, not begging for anything specific but just for more.

He looks at you, leaning back on his calves, hands raking over your thighs as he slides back.

“Look how pretty you are,” he muses, eyes trained on the lace between your thighs. Your dress is pushed up so far, leaving you almost entirely exposed.

He presses his thumb over your clit, just a thin excuse for fabric separating his skin from yours. You suck in a sharp breath, bucking your hips slightly into his touch.

“Oh, she wants me to touch her so bad, huh?” he teases, finger stroking over the growing wet patch on your underwear.

“Please,” you whine again, gasping when Eddie hooks a finger into your panties, yanking them down.

His big hands delicately take your heels off of your feet, setting them on the floor of his car. He tugs your panties completely off of your legs then, letting them land wherever he tosses them. His leather jacket comes off as well, being thrown into the front seat. His black t-shirt hugs his biceps well, the fabric clinging to his body in a way that makes him so much more enticing.

He swipes a finger up through your folds, collecting your slick before bringing said finger to his mouth. He sucks on it, tasting what he can of you and moaning. You’re awestruck watching him, feeling like your heart is going to beat out of your chest when his eyes meet yours, dark and needy. He crouches down swiftly, settling himself so his face is right in front of your waiting pussy. His tongue sticks out, licking up your folds in the same pattern his finger had just followed. You cry out in pleasant surprise as he begins eating your cunt, a present perfectly unwrapped just for him. He presses his tongue inside of you, velvety muscle tasting every inch of you.

His hands grip your thighs, holding your legs open for him. Dark brown eyes look up to meet yours, and the sight is unholy. The way his lips attach to your clit and suck, the way he purposefully makes a show of dragging his tongue through your puffy, swollen lips, never once breaking eye contact. It makes you want to worship him, a divine presence for you to praise.

Someone to hear your prayers, someone who cares

“Eddie…” you whine, screwing your eyes shut when his tongue flicks faster over your clit.

He simply hums in response, a pleased noise that vibrates against your core. He knows what he’s doing to you, he can tell by the way you whimper and writhe beneath him. His tongue stays focused on your clit as he brings two fingers to your entrance, slipping them easily inside of you. You gasp, tugging on his hair in desperation. He groans, a deep, throaty noise that catches you by surprise.

“Keep fuckin’ pulling my hair, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your wet heat. “Wanna know how good ‘m makin’ you feel.”

Your back arches into his touch when he curls those fingers inside of you, perfect pink lips still pursed around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your orgasm is quickly approaching, tension building and building in the pit of your stomach the more he winds you up.

“Eddie, I- I’m gonna-” you pant, fingers still entwined in his curls, eliciting more pleased sounds from him.

His fingers only move quicker in response, curling inside of you and bringing you right to the edge, letting you plummet into bliss. You clench around him, squeezing his fingers over and over as he works you through your high. You jerk your hips, suddenly overstimulated, and Eddie takes the hint. He removes his fingers, his mouth unlatching from your sensitive clit.

“You taste so fucking good, baby,” he grins, flashing those perfect white teeth at you.

You flush, scrunching your face in embarrassment before he leans down to kiss you again. You can taste yourself on him, and it makes you throb. You suck lightly on his tongue, letting out a breathy laugh when he grinds his hips against you in response.

“Fuck, angel, need to be inside you…” he murmurs, mouth pressing kisses to the shell of your ear.

“Mmm, not yet,” you reply, capturing his lips in another quick kiss. “If I don’t have my mouth on you in the next five minutes I’m not gonna survive,” you purr, mouthing at his jaw, sucking the supple skin of his neck.

He groans, raspy and deep, letting you mark him as your fingers make quick work of the button and zipper of his tight jeans. His erect cock hangs heavy in the thin fabric of his boxers, finally letting you gauge how big he is. You swallow, hand wrapping around the outline of his cock and squeezing. Eddie inhales sharply, dropping his head to rest on your chest. His arms tense as he props himself up, his resolve threatening to crumble with the way your thumb teases his tip through cotton fabric. You can feel the pre-cum leaking from him, sticky strings of it attaching to the pad of your finger as you tease.

“Baby, mmmmfuck,” he moans, looking back up at you with pleading eyes.

“Sit back,” you instruct him, removing your hand from his bulge. “Let me take care of you.”

He just about combusts when you clamber to the floor of the spacious back seat, tugging his boxers from around the taper of his hips. You let them drop to his ankles, pooling around his shoes. His cock springs free in front of you, heavy and leaking for you. The trimmed patch of hair at the base has your mouth watering, his balls hanging beneath like the perfect temptation. You open your mouth, making a show of sticking your tongue out as you tap the tip of his cock against it. You give teasing licks across the head, lapping up the pre-cum and tasting him properly.

He whines above you, his head thrown back and the veins in his neck pulsing. His previously cocky demeanor is gone in this moment, giving in completely to how desperate he is for you. It seems to be a give and take, both of you worshiping each other like the holiest entities.

You take him fully past your lips, saliva pooling beneath your tongue. You bob your head, coating him with your spit. The girth of him stretches your mouth uncomfortably, and you move slowly as you adjust to taking him. One of his hands flies down to your hair, gripping it to give himself some sort of leverage.

The sight of you on your knees for him, tits hanging free on your chest and your perfect lips sucking him right in has him feeling like he could melt into the seats of his car. Your big doe eyes peer up at him, feeling like a shot to the fucking heart.

“God, baby, your mouth feels like fucking heaven,” he praises, watching himself disappear into your perfect mouth.

You hum in satisfaction, picking up your pace. You take him until his head hits the back of your throat, making your throat restrict as you gag around him. The whine that comes out of him is sinful, there’s no other word to describe it, and it has you pressing your thighs together for some relief to your core that already aches for him again. His modest muscles strain against the tight fabric of his t-shirt, every inch of his body trying to maintain composure and failing. You grip his balls with one hand, holding the base of his shaft with the other. You pump his cock in your fist in tandem with how your mouth bobs on his length, other hand squeezing the squishy flesh of his balls simultaneously. He almost jumps off the seat his hips buck so hard, forcing another gag from you as his cock hits your throat again.

Your nose brushes the curly hair on his pubic bone, and you take a deep breath as you pull your mouth off of him, regaining your control. You continue what you’d been doing, both of your hands and your mouth working him closer and closer to release. Strings of curse words leave his perfect parted lips, the hand in your hair guiding the movements of your head ever so slightly.

“Babybabybaby,” he rushes out, a strangled groan escaping with the words. “Don’t wanna - fuck - don’t wanna cum yet. Need to fuck you, pretty girl,” he says, his chest heaving as he catches his breath.

You press soft kisses to the head of his cock, the skin still flushed a darker shade of pink, ready and waiting to be inside of you. He pulls you up onto his lap, hands immediately cupping your breasts and squeezing as he presses a rough kiss to your lips. Your dress remains bunched up at your middle, your glistening pussy rubbing right against Eddie’s cock, sending shockwaves through your entire body.

Eddie stops the slow rocking of your hips suddenly, as if startled.

“What’s wrong?” you urge, meeting his eyes that hold a guilty expression.

“I totally don’t have condoms…” he says sheepishly, biting his lip.

“Oh - I mean, we don’t need to use one, if you’re okay with that. I’m on the pill and I - I’m clean, and stuff,” you ramble, wondering why you’re finding it so fucking hard to get words out now.

“I’m clean too. Promise. I, uh, don’t exactly do this often,” he looks at you shyly, the demeanor unfitting for him. The confession that he doesn’t do this often admittedly makes your heart swell, all of those nervous thoughts you’d had about him earlier, about being part of a routine, washing away gradually. “But if you’d rather we don’t, it can wait till next time,” he continues.

“Next time?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Y-yeah. I mean, I mean if you want to see me again after thi-” you cut off his nervous stammering with a firm kiss, your fingers cupping his chin as you claim his mouth with yours. His nervousness makes him so much less intimidating, taking him down from being this larger-than-life entity, an unobtainable stripper who sees attractive women every night, to just being… a regular guy. A cute, sweet, charming guy who’s also insanely sexy.

Pulling away, he smiles lazily at you, kiss-drunk and awestruck. “Yes I want to see you again. And yes I want you to fuck me, right here right now,” you reassure him, your sultry gaze enough to make him do anything you could ask of him.

“Fucking deal, babe,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head, exposing his chest to you. His tattoos are on full display, and your eyes rake over him, your cunt pulsing with all of your filthy thoughts. He smirks at you, clearly liking the way you drink him in, biting his lip as you raise your hips slightly so he can position his cock at your entrance.

You sink down onto him without a warning, the two of you gasping in unison. You grip his shoulders for leverage, the stretch to fit him slightly uncomfortable despite your extreme arousal. You work yourself down, down, down, slowly until you’re fully seated on him. He sits heavy and thick inside of you, making you ache with an enticing kind of soreness. Your walls flutter slightly around him as you wiggle your hips around, getting used to the feel of him. His hands grip your hips, his lips parted and his eyes screwed shut as you start to find your bearings on top of him. You dip your head down, rolling your hips on him as you suck a brutal hickey into the column of his throat. Your teeth gnash at soft skin, tongue soothing the sting afterwards. A low growl escapes him, fingers squeezing your doughy flesh as he starts to rut himself into your soaked cunt.

Breathy moans leave your lips, your jaw hanging open as he fucks into you faster. Your tits bounce in front of his face, and he wants to take them into his mouth and stay latched on forever. Perfect swells of skin, all for him to touch and kiss and suck. His hands grip the soft globes of your ass as his mouth sucks the skin of your chest, making you moan when his fingers squeeze hard.

You’re so fucking full of him you feel delirious, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with every deep stroke he delivers to you. His name is tumbling from your mouth in a rhythmic pattern, over and over, like a prayer. You really can’t get that damn song out of your head from before, and it makes so much sense why he chose it to be his.

Your own personal Jesus

You want to praise Eddie right beneath the roof of his Jeep. Want to shout his name from the rooftops, make the whole world know how good he’s fucking you right now. You want to follow every word he says, every command he gives you. You want to pray to him every night before you go to bed, you just want to worship him. The way his fingers dig into your skin and the way his lips suck on your neck make you feel like you’re being worshipped, too. He sucks and squeezes and fucks like this may be his last opportunity to, like he’s savoring every possible bit of you and committing you to permanent memory.

You bounce on his cock, gaining some more control as Eddie’s thrusts slow down with fatigue. You take the reins, cupping his face in your hand and kissing him hard. Licking into his mouth desperately, humming when his tongue meets yours. But then he somehow takes control again, making you pliant for him even as you ride him with vigor. He squeezes your jaw, letting your mouth fall open before he spits into it, a string of his saliva dropping onto your tongue. You swallow it, not needing to be instructed, and you swear Eddie gets even harder inside of you. You recall Eddie’s comment from earlier, when Jonathan had given you the shot. ‘She knows how to swallow.’

“Fuck, baby,” he grunts, jaw tight and the veins in his neck prominent as he stills your bouncing on top of him and thrusts up into you.

He goes so deep you’re left seeing stars, lurching forward and gripping his shoulders for stability. Your body feels like it could crumple into itself if you let it, every one of your limbs overtaken with pleasure. You feel a familiar tension building higher and higher in the pit of your stomach. The sound of his balls slapping against your skin and the occasional smacking of your lips against his fills the vehicle, the air growing humid with every hot breath that leaves your mouths. The sounds he makes are downright obscene, any bit of composure he’d had completely slipping away for you. His thrusts get faster, faster, and you let your fingers drop down to your clit, rubbing quick circles on the sensitive bud.

“Ohhhh fuck baby,” Eddie moans, watching the way your head tips back as you pleasure yourself. “Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum all over my cock?”

“Yes, fuck yes, Eddie,” you cry, thighs trembling as your orgasm crawls closer and closer.

His fingers squeeze your hips impossibly tight, one of his hands letting go only to deliver a swift smack to your ass. You whine, cursing under your breath as the pads of your fingers circle your clit again and again. Eddie fucks you ruthlessly, pulling almost entirely out just to sheathe himself inside of you again, taking your breath away. The friction and the fullness is euphoric, your body giving way completely to pleasure as your second orgasm finally rips through you. You’re screaming out for him, chanting his name again and again as you come undone on his cock. You soak him, lewd, wet noises coming from you as he continues to thrust beneath you.

“‘M gonna cum so fucking hard, baby,” he rasps, looking at you through his lashes. “Where do you want it?”

“Inside. Inside Eddie, please,” you rush out, begging him to fill you with his seed. He lets out a strangled whine at this, gripping your flesh even harder.

You swear his eyes roll back into his head, hips stuttering and his cock pulsing as you feel the warmth of his cum painting your insides. His final thrusts are sloppy as he gives you every last drop of his cum, your mouth hung open in a silent moan at the overwhelming sensation of him gliding against your sensitive walls.

His chest is heaving with each breath he takes, his palms splayed out across your lower back, holding you close to him when you slump forward. Your legs feel like jelly, weak and trembling from exertion. Your mind is fuzzy in the best way, a smile on your face when Eddie tilts you to look at him.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his eyes roaming over your entire face, loving how blissed out you look. “Wanted to have you all to myself during our whole show tonight, god…” he continues, smirking a little as he shakes his head.

“I could say the same to you,” you reply, looking at his lips as you talk.

His mouth catches yours in a lazy kiss, tongues dancing together sloppily. His fingers rub soothing circles on your skin, slowly guiding you up and off of his softened cock.

“So, do I have to shove more dollar bills in your pants for all of that, too, or?” you joke, earning a laugh from Eddie that presents itself in a harsh puff of air from his nose.

“Nah, that’s on the house, baby,” he says, giving you a lopsided grin.

You both sit in silence for a moment, your delicate fingers tracing patterns up and down his arms. He looks at you like you’re an angel sent from the heavens, those chocolate brown eyes admiring you in the kindest way.

“Do you, uh, still wanna come back to my place?” he says finally, that ill-fitting nervousness creeping back into his voice.

“Hmmm,” you pretend to ponder, pulling your dress back up over your breasts and tugging the hem to rest normally on your thighs. “What’s in it for me?”

“I have a stripper pole in my living room,” he says with a smug grin. “I’ll give you your own private show.”

“Sold.”

[psychelis-new]

pick a pile: "I love you because..."

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read a love confession for you. it could be a friend, a colleague, someone you help/ed, a family member, your guides or ancestors, your higher self or your present/future partner/spouse. meditate to put yourself in a receiving mode and go check your one, dear soul. enjoy your Valentine's day: whether you feel lonely or not, whether you are in a relationship or not, know that you are deeply loved.

if you rather get a message from your present/future partner/spouse, check my instagram @/psychelis.new

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

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1 2 3 4

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pile 1

I love you of a quiet pure respectful love, because you're strong and brave and you taught me that struggles can be overcome and new goals can always be reached. You taught me a lot also about love and friendship: maybe you don't know, but I have been going through a very tough situation and finding you/having you near, listening to you, helped me so much. You were (and are) like a dream come true to me. You made me stronger, inspired me and helped me move on with a lot of confidence and hopefulness more, and I'll always be thankful to you for this. I am not sure you know about this, about my feelings, I always look at you from a distance and freeze in awe in front of your kindness and beautiful smile. I would like to approach you and thank you personally but I am not sure you would accept it from me. I am still afraid to be abandoned or to disappoint you but I am sure one day I will be able to change this also thanks to you. One day I will be bold enough and thank you properly. I am working to get ready for that day and have no more fear.

[more symbols/signs: fairytales, children, The Little Prince (the dialogue with the fox in particular), fox, star, comets; could be friend, sb in your same school/job place crushing on you, ex, -online- admirer, childhood friend/crush; I'm getting lot of school-related/young energy, could even be a student if you're a teacher or sth; it seems someone who isn't used to kindness and gentleness/support and bc of this you made them addicted to this side of yours]

song: fetish | selena gomez, gucci mane

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pile 2

I love you because you guide me and give me peace. Your voice is like a tender sound calming my nerves, your words are warm and embracing me anytime I need love. You came up unexpectedly and brought the wind of change with you, a warm tender soft one that caresses me and plays with my hair making me smile of a peaceful smile. Something I could hardly experience before. I love you because you help me feel better and change/grow for the better. You've helped me cleansing from my toxic past and you made me see things from a different perspective. Like in a snap of fingers, everything went from chaos to calm, in my mind and in my heart. You always know what to say to bring me back on my feet, to balance me, and you guide me in every move I take. I am thankful for having you by my side, my true anchor and gentle loving sister soul. Never cease to speak to me, I love listening to your ideas and words, you always sing the most beautiful song in my ears, just for me to listen to.

[more symbols/signs: water, emotions, rain/rainy day, wind, sound, dreamcatcher, weather vane, bells, air signs; possible strong mental/5d connection; could be a soulmate (romantic or platonic), also a colleague or family member/ancestor or your partner's higher self]

song: every breath you take | denmark + winter

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pile 3

I love you because amidst all of the chaos, there you were and still are. I love you cause you always wear a smile and try to keep your joy with you, and share it around. I love you cause of your sweet tender habit to dance and turn around everytime you're happy. I love you for all the beauty you bring with you, even if you cannot see it. I love your regal side and your cute side. I love all the different people you are, especially your curios self, never ceasing to learn more of what's around you (please keep yourself safe). I love how you can lose yourself daydreaming about love and what's next for you, but also how you are so easy to distract... Maybe you should focus more, yes, but who cares? I like to distract you too cause when you notice you always get so pouty and offended with me and that's so very cute. Please try to let go of the past, trust yourself. I know you hurt still, but better things will come and you know it too. Don't let the anxiety/worries take over you, stay confident and trust that all will be great. I will also help you make it so.

[more signs/symbols: crowds, -long time- friend/s, studying together, raincoat, jeans, flirting; feels a classmate or friend -maybe a group of friends-, possibly someone crushing on you; young energy but especially from you here so the person/people could be "older" for some of you]

song: golden hour | jvke

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pile 4

I love you because that's what I was born for. I love you cause that's my duty, to care for you and protect you. But I also love you because you resemble me: you're determined, confident and you work for your dreams. You don't let anything or anyone bring you down and even if you don't feel this way now, I know you have it inside of you. You just need to believe again in all that you really are, you just need to remember who you really are. Let me in, let me help you remember it all. Let me help you give you your power back. We can have it all again, together. Don't let the demons you have learned to live with, govern you: you're the one in charge of putting them back to their place. You're the one able to give yourself all that you want, love included. Take care of you, give yourself breaks and get ready: a lot is in store for us. I'm sorry you have/had to wait so much. Please forgive me.

[more symbols/signs: vinyl, music, nostalgia, dancing, gala, Europe, dresses, castle, deep heart connection; possible past life connection (around 1700-1800 centuries; kingdoms); power couple; possible ex/situationship that now is on hold or future partner/spouse, guides/ancestors/departed pet or higher self; in all honesty the first message I got is the last line I wrote. Much more than the reasons they love you for, they wanted you to know how much they long for you now]

song: in the name of love | bebe rexha, martin garrix

[mediumgayitalian]

“Thought you might like this.”

Nico turns the thin plastic casing over in his hands. It catches the limited light from the one open window, refracting a burst of rainbow across the shadowy ceiling.

“What…is it?”

“Mixtape.” Will rocks back on his heels, hands swinging slightly at his sides. He hums idly, flicking his gaze across the room faster than Nico can track. Distracted. “Songs ‘n stuff.”

Contrary to popular belief, Nico knows what a mixtape is. CDs as well, for that matter. In fact he distinctly remembers when they came out — the transition from cassette to CD was a triumphant one. Way easier for him to save his game processes and transfer to new machines as they came. (He wonders, idly, what happened to his stack of CDs left at the Lotus. Are they still there, standing alone in his half of the room? Next to his dresser, across from Bianca’s coin and token collection? Is there enough dust in that standstill place to cover the entire living space in a thick blanket of forgotten memory?)

“I can see that, Solace. I meant — why.”

“Because!” Solace gestures grandly, hands fluttering in some particular way that means nothing, really; just accentuates his wide grin, his twinkling eyes. The rocking he’s constantly doing, back and forth, back and forth, the twitching of his fingers. Electrons on a wire. “It’s been a while since you’ve had a radio or anything, right? Figured you might have a couple years to catch up on. Might be fun.”

Nico turns the CD case over again in his hand, peripherally aware of the shifting rainbows, still, reflecting off Will’s hair now, dying it redgreengold. There’s sharpie scrawled across the surface, completely illegible except for the plethora of exclamation points, the doodle of a cat, and the chain of flowers drawn carefully around the edge.

Will is smiling so, so brightly.

“Thank you,” Nico says quietly. He clears his throat, looking away. “I’ll, um. I’ll listen to it. Tonight.”

“Great!” Will chirps. “I got lots more, I’ll stop by after my shift and you can tell me what you liked. That way you can have more input on karaoke night.”

“Oh, I’m not gonna —”

“See you tomorrow! Write down what you think!”

“— do that.”

Nico returns his parting wave helplessly, watching as he sprints down the stairs and then, for no discernible reason, cartwheels three times on his way across the common. Immediately upon righting himself he walks into a (thankfully unlit) brazier and goes sprawling, calling out, to no one, I’m okay! and bounding back off.

“How are you alive,” Nico mutters to himself. He turns back to the CD case, running his thumb across the edges. He notices, for the first time, the hearts that have been drawn along the clasps. A smile pushes its way across his face no matter how hard he tries to fight it back.

When he plays it that night, lying on his bed with his headphones tucked over his ears and his Walkman resting on his stomach, the first song is Walking on Sunshine.

He can’t fight back a smile then, either.

[sonotkari]

Saturn

Hanni Pham x Fem Reader

[ Synopsis ]

Listening to Saturn by Sza has made you think about many things since your last (not-so) relationship, and Hanni is on your side, listening to you yapping your thoughts.

Fluff, Angst, and a tiny bit of cursing :)

[ Word Count ]

1.5k yes it's very very short :(

[ a/n ]

I've been listening to a lot of songs lately and the idea just popped out when I was listening to Sza! It's really cheesy like, really, might be too tacky but oh well :P My first time writing this kind of stuff so it's a mess but do please take it easy on me guys /ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\ (i suck at writing honestly)

I hope someone out there likes it dis for u bae <3

You've spent your entire year, loving someone. As the "giving it all" type of persona when it comes to relationships even when it's as small as a crush, you really gave it your all. Praising them the chance you got to, making sure to spend lots of quality time together, presenting gifts for no particular reason just because you enjoyed seeing the smile that appeared on their face with the cute little dimple on their cheeks which was one of the many things you liked- no, loved about them.

But maybe it was a little too much or perhaps it was something else. You eventually got tired of pursuing them after a year. Feeling more and more drained as the days passed and feeling that both of your distances hadn't moved an inch, you were debating a lot with yourself. Mixed signals were everywhere but you just couldn't let them go that easily. Like you were stuck in quicksand, trying to get out of it but as you do, you just sink in deeper. Might as well let it sink in and disappear. 

That was all a year ago, and you were now outside by the beach. Sat by the white sand as you admired how beautiful the waves were even at nighttime. Saturn by Sza was playing on your headphones as you looked up at the dark sky, admiring the little stars you could barely see while the sound of waves was also in the background with the music. 

If Karma's really real

How am I still here? 

Just seems so unfair 

I could be wrong tho

If there's a point to being good

Then where's my reward?

The good die young and poor

I gave it all I could 

The lyrics hit you hard, earning a bit of a chest pain as you couldn't relate to it more than ever. All the fun memories you had together flooded your mind as you listened to the music. Going to dates where she mostly wanted to go, having late-night calls and talking about almost everything that was going on with your life to each other, all the stupid jokes and the bickering where your friends couldn't take it anymore and the two of you would just laugh it all off.

You had to lose it all. Sometimes you wonder if you've made the wrong decision to let go. Regret washes your entire mind and soul as your tears start flowing non-stop every midnight, reminding you of all of the beautiful memories you just had to trash out because of the choice you made. But as much as you felt all the joy and the happiness of the world when you were with her, it began to change into pain. Pain that you wouldn't have imagined stinging so much that you eventually had to make a choice to let go and leave. 

Taking a big deep breath, you felt someone's presence come and sit beside you. You smile softly at her as you take off your headphones, letting them hang on your neck for a while as you can hear small music leaking from them. 

"What are you doing here at this time?" 

"Just admiring the view while having some fresh air" 

"You sound like a romantic" 

Hanni snorted a bit as she looked at the view in front of her. The small cold breeze hits both of you smelling a hint of sea salt passing by as well.

"I thought you were crying again" 

"Stop reminding me, it's embarrassing" 

You laugh a bit at what Hanni had just said and remember the time when she decided to crash into your apartment with snacks in her hand but instead caught you crying in your room alone with crumpled tissues scattered everywhere. You were a total mess at that time and the image still creeps into your mind, sending a shiver and an uneasy wave of embarrassment down your spine every time you remember them. 

"I was thinking of her, though..." 

Thoughts linger on about her once again as you start to daze off from the beach view. 

What if I didn't let go of her? Would we still be talking, laughing at each other like we always do, or would I be in a crying mess again? 

We used to joke around, laughing non-stop at almost everything, now all I do is cry non-stop instead. I sometimes wonder, if I had enough courage in me and talked about my feelings about her, we might've done something about it together.

 I wonder if she thinks about me like I do. Has she ever cried about me? I feel bad if I ever made her cry. Not like I can do something about it now. 

I wish I could, but I think it'll just hurt me again. Because I'll be giving her my all again and I'll be stuck in a loop then. 

You snapped out when you finally noticed you were rambling your thoughts to Hanni without even noticing. 

"Sorry..." 

"Don't be"

Hanni shifted her gaze, locking them at yours as she smiled warmly. You would always feel reassured every time you see that smile of hers. Perfectly warm for a cold breezy night. You could see the stars clearly by now and the moon peaking from the thin clouds, the light shimmering as it reflects on the surface of the water, and a bit of music that's still playing from your headphones, going to the end of the chorus. 

Find something worth saving 

It's all for the taking 

I always say 

I'll be better on Saturn 

None of this matters 

Dreaming of Saturn 

You listen to the lyrics and think if it'd be actually nice on Saturn. Even if it wasn't as far as Saturn, just somewhere you could ease your mind without all the lingering thoughts that wrapped you around like a thorned bush, pricking your soul. 

"Saturn sounds nice"��

The girl stares at you with a hint of confusion in her eyes as you suddenly, out of the blue, talk about planets. 

"I'm so fucked up on this planet, might as well just go to Saturn you know?" 

You never know, being in Saturn might be better than you think. Far away from the problems you've left behind, no one chasing you down for it. I'll make Saturn a place where I could rest from heart, just carefree and mindless. No more pain or hurt. Just focusing on myself and the future ahead of me. I bet I could make the best planet in the universe if NASA would let me. Well, that would be valid if we could "land" on Saturn in the first place without burning and melting ourselves. 

You outed a chuckle as you yapped your thoughts of Saturn to Hanni and the girl couldn't help but laugh lightly at your sudden plans about making the "best planet in the universe" 

But deep down, you knew that even when you'd send yourself off to Saturn or even as far away as Neptune, you'd somehow think about the girl just like how you've been lingering your thoughts on her on a random night at the beach. You take a deep breath, stopping thinking about it for once when you hear her speak up in a quiet mumble. 

"I'll be your Saturn." 

It was your turn to look at the girl with confusion and surprise. Your eyes met once again as she showed that warm smile with a soft chuckle. 

"Sorry, that just sounded cheesier way more than I imagined"

Your thoughts wander again. 

Hanni had been with you from your first-ever crush to your first-ever relationship (even when it was complicated as hell) till your heartbreaking moments. She was the one who you'd open up to when it came to opinions and bits of advice, she's the one you'd tell firsthand about every exciting thing that happened to your life, the one you'd update even when it was 3 am early in the morning, and her shoulders were the ones you cried and leaned on when your heart was shattered to pieces.

Being with Hanni allowed you to be idiotic, to be yourself. No matter how bad the situations were or how stupid things could get when with her, you could just laugh it all off and be carefree. You'd forget all your worries and problems, and the time with her would fly so fast. You remember way back then, you'd repeatedly ask Hanni's mom if she could stay a bit longer. You feel all the comfort you need when you're with her. 

"You already are"  

Her facial expression turned into a surprised one as she heard your response. The music leaking from your headphones had finally come to an end, only the sound of waves in the background left as you gave back the warm smile she always wears to reassure you, letting you forget all the problems and weight on your shoulders. 

"You are my Saturn" 

After some time of staring at each other, the long comforting silence soon ended with soft giggles and laughs as you and Hanni looked back at the ocean view with the golden moon and diamond stars shining their way making everything a perfect picture. 

"You were right... that did sound cheesier than I imagined" 

no way I just fkn finished this wait what

[comiicii]

Backdrop: Life had been mundane until you met Clark Kent.

Pairing: clark kent x fem!reader

Warnings: None, probably some grammatical errors and a little sadness if you’re a sap like me.

A's notes: inspired by ariana grande’s new album eternal sunshine, i’ll be doing a series of one shots based on the songs. they’ll be in no particular order and will be written for other characters but some will be featured more than once if they fit the song i’m writing about. ‘we cant be friends’ has me crying whenever i watch the video and i tear up a lot listening to it so enjoy this train wreck of a story.

Word count: 3.8k

For as long as you could remember, life was nothing special. It wasn’t horrible but you woke up most days simply doing work and trying to advance your career. Your life was mundane and filled with memories of you alone after moving to Metropolis. That was until you met him. Clark Kent. You had bumped into each other on your way into the Daily Planet for an interview. Well, it was actually you bumping into his broad chest and him catching you before you hit the marble floor. The softness in his deep ocean blue eyes were what made your heart do something it had never done. It felt like a pull in your chest that you hadn’t felt before. As if the universe made sense. Once you finally registered his apologies, you came to your senses and tried to apologize for not watching where you were going. Then he smiled. Now your stomach fluttered. That was not something your body usually did when it came to people. After he introduced himself, it was as if the world had color to it again.

It would be an understatement to say that you fell for Clark Kent. You deeply fell for Clark. Words could not express the love you instantly felt for him. And he fell just as hard for you. When he revealed his true identity to you, it only solidified the endless bounty of your love for him since he was willing to trust you with every part of himself that he didn’t share with the rest of the world. Life seemed to finally be worth living and getting up for. Every morning you rose with the sun and slowly forgot about those meek feelings that used to fill your body.

It wasn’t hard for the two of you to make some of the happiest memories together. Your then-apartment had been littered with trinkets that marked your happiest moments with Clark. Like the teddy bear he won for you when he took you to a carnival in his Kansas hometown. Or the homemade picture frame that had a silly selfie Clark took of the two of you while at work. Once you moved in together, the apartment you shared was filled with more memories the two of you made together. As a house warming gift, he presented you with a beautiful pendant necklace with both your birthstones that came together to make a heart. It’s a necklace you wear everyday and became a reminder that someone loved you unconditionally. When he proposed to you atop the ferris wheel, the ring was designed to match the necklace. Your wedding was small and intimate with just friends and family in attendance on the Kent family farm. It was the highlight of your life to be marrying the man of your dreams.

Life wasn’t always perfect with Clark though. Sharing your boyfriend (and eventual husband) with the world was not the easiest task to undertake but when he came home to you, those insecurities subsided. But those pesky feelings still lingered. Feelings of being unwanted and insecurities plagued the back of your mind. Besides, the Daily Planet constantly wrote puff pieces of his alter ego - with a few being written by you. As time passed and the world became more cruel, it became harder to keep those thoughts hidden. Little by little, those insecurities reared their ugly heads that led to some of the lowest of lows in your life since meeting Clark. He didn’t seem to understand why you were feeling as such and justified his work that it was his life’s purpose. And you didn’t seem to understand why he couldn’t empathize with your feelings. You stood by him through thick and thin. Through the good, the bad, and the ugly that came with being Superman. You weren’t perfect either, though. You were an ambitious reporter and were climbing up in your career at the Daily Planet. Your work also came with some ugliness as you advanced in your career. This meant that the two of you were in the spotlight for your work. Two very different spotlights but spotlights nonetheless.

It hit particularly hard the one argument that ensued after he missed your first wedding anniversary. It was an important milestone that you had planned out for weeks. You had made reservations at the restaurant you had your first date on and he didn’t make an appearance until the morning hours of the following day. You had looked like a fool at the restaurant; patrons giving you looks of pity as you sipped on your water and twiddled your thumbs like a fool waiting for him. When he greeted you with a bouquet of lilies - the first drop of uneasiness touched your chest. You weren’t happy to see him. To see his sweet face you’d kissed good morning the morning before. To see his ocean eyes that carried such sincerity because he had broken a promise to you. He could see that he couldn’t avoid a fight with you because you didn’t look at him with love. Your eyes were filled with disappointment. The argument that ensued ended with him leaving for most of the day as you sobbed into your pillow. When he had returned you had awoken only to softly cry yourself to sleep again.

It took two days for the two of you to speak again and work through the argument. You both tried to be more mindful and quickly moved on from the unhappy moment. A part of you was content with the conversation and hopeful for what was to come with Clark. It wasn’t the first fight you two had but it was the first that hurt you so deeply.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the day you had asked for a divorce from Clark. It wasn’t something you planned but it wasn’t something you hadn’t contemplated in the recent year after your third wedding anniversary. It had come out of your mouth after another argument that was going nowhere. You had argued about how you were growing apart - how you had taken time off after planning to go away for a small vacation just the two of you and he wasn’t putting in the effort. He had come home late but it wasn’t because of him being Superman. It was because he worked late with Lois Lane on a story after he had told you that morning he’d be home to go on the trip. You were prepared to forgive him if it was because of his Superman duties but this was the last straw.

You weren’t the jealous type but even at work, it seemed like the two of you barely spoke as the years progressed. He got paired up with Lois for more stories and you didn’t like the sinking twist of your stomach whenever you saw Clark with her. They looked cute together and probably the office assumed he was sleeping with her given how flirty they tended to be (at least she was). The first time he noticed how much it bothered you, he assured you with his words and actions that he felt nothing for the reporter. He went as far as to give you a passionate kiss in the middle of the office, in front of Lois, as you bid him goodbye to go to an interview for a story you were writing. It had made you weak in the knees and you were close to pulling him into the archives room to continue the passion but you simply blushed and told him you loved him with the most love struck smile on your face. That squashed those insecurities for a while until you started noticing how close they’d sit together while brainstorming or how he began to stay later with her to work on a story. You tried not to be the jealous wife but you couldn’t help the green monster that was building on your fears and insecurities. The few times you brought it up afterwards, Clark was dismissive about your feelings. It hurt you. Hurt how little he seemed to care about your feelings.

From there, arguments were becoming more common. Filled with silence or one of you leaving the apartment for some time. It had become common practice to not speak to each other and eventually move on from the argument. You hated that your marriage had come to this point. After the last argument, you had left the apartment this time. You checked into a hotel and went to the bar for a drink. You looked at your ring and a tear ran down your cheek realizing that it didn’t give you hope. It didn’t give you the feeling you were hoping for because deep down, you knew that you couldn’t continue in the marriage if it wasn’t going to be mended. You had run the course of the marriage and it pained you. When you returned two days later, Clark was making lunch for both of you. He was prepared to go on the trip and put the argument behind. Your heart was racing because you didn’t want to do this. You didn’t want to end something you had hoped would never end but it had to end. You needed to be the one to make Clark realize that the two of you weren’t going to get the happy ending. Not with each other. You were prepared for him to be upset and yell and express every reasonable emotion. When you uttered those terrible words, he simply froze and you could see his heart shatter from the look he gave you because he knew you were going to see the divorce through. The day ended with you packing your things and going back to the hotel, retaining a divorce lawyer and hunting for apartments. You had managed to find a job as a journalist for a small paper and put in your two weeks at the Daily Planet. By the end of it all, all you gave Clark was a letter asking for forgiveness for ending your marriage. Detailing all the love you had for him was genuine and would always remain but that for now, your paths had to separate. You ended the letter acknowledging that the two of you couldn’t be friends but that you’d wait for that day to come. Wait for the day that he’d like you again. You’d wait for his love again.

Clark’s heartbreak was just about close to unbearable as he didn’t pull his punches during missions and even Bruce had to pull him back from time to time. He had clung to that letter you wrote him and cried so hard the day he received it. Beating himself up for letting one of the most important people in his life feel the need to cut ties with him. Letting you feel like you had to end your story together. You weren’t fairing much better. For the first few months, you were crying yourself to sleep almost daily. Life had become mundane and when you thought of Clark, it became sad and lonely. You hated the pain you felt in your chest that had spread to your whole body.

A coworker at your new job had seen how sad you were about your divorce and handed you an ad about Wayne Enterprises having technology that claimed to erase people from your memory. A part of you didn’t think such a thing existed but you knew Bruce wouldn’t build something if it didn’t work. When Bruce Wayne saw your name on the list of possible subjects, he reached out to you. Meaning, he paid a visit at your current apartment that was now closer to Gotham. You had known Bruce through Clark and knew of his alter-ego as well. Batman had actually saved you a few times when you were in Gotham chasing leads and doing interviews. When he first met you, Clark and you had been together for a year and had been invited to one of Bruce’s fancy charity events. He had seen how in love you two were. He hadn’t seen Clark so happy before you came into his life and he could see the adoration you held for the Kryptonian. Clark had even said to him that night that he was going to marry you. It warmed his heart to see how happy you two had made each other in such a short period of time.

You had ironically decided to have the procedure done on what would’ve been your fourth wedding anniversary. You looked down at the box that contained every memory attached to Clark. The receptionist had handed you a clipboard with a waiver to sign; giving Wayne Enterprises permission to move forward with the process. A nurse came out to call your name and you handed her the clipboard. She brought you inside and took the box of your memories. You sat down and took deep breaths, the nurse giving you a few minutes as she left to get he others for the procedure. You looked around at the room, it was meant to look comfortable given the severity of the process. There was a mirror on the wall to your right. You figured it was part of the original room and that maybe on the other side were boxes of other people’s memories.

On the other side of the mirror, Clark stood looking at your nervous self that waited for the technicians to arrive. Bruce had elected to do the procedure himself for his friend after informing him that you had signed up for it yourself. Clark had come in on the same day per Bruce’s request since he figured it was best for it to be done on the same day for the both of you. Clark had come in with a box full of memories connected to you. Pictures that he had of you and different items you had gotten him through the years such as the bracelet you made for him while he was away on a mission with the Justice League. You had put beads with your initials on the bracelet and just like you wore your necklace, he wore his bracelet. The box also contained a picture he had taken of you out on his parent’s farm the weekend he brought you home to meet Ma Kent. The box unsurprisingly contained a great deal of pictures of you that he took. Some silly ones, cute ones, romantic and his most cherished one was at the top of the pile. It was a picture of the two of you kissing on your wedding day. Clark had taken it himself with his digital camera he carried everywhere with him. His other favorite picture was one of you under the covers, smiling and looking so peaceful and happy as he took the picture, wearing one of his flannels. It was taken the morning after he proposed to you. You had a picture of Clark in your box that you had taken a few seconds after he took that photo. He didn’t want to put anything in the box and be selfish but he knew for it to work, he had to follow Bruce’s instruction. The one item that wasn’t in the box was the letter you wrote him after your divorce. The one that solidified your parting of ways. He gave the letter to Bruce and told him wished he hadn’t made you feel so hurt that you had to do this.

With that, the billionaire decided to tell his friend that this wasn’t the first time the two of you had gone through this procedure. Two years prior to the two of you meeting, you both had been together for three years and had a great falling out that ended the relationship. It was enough to bring the both of you, at separate times, to him and ask to have your memories of each other erased. Bruce wanted to tell you but the sadness reflected in your eyes was enough to keep his mouth shut. Maybe deep down you knew that this wasn’t the first time you wanted to erase Clark from your life. You loved him so deeply that the only way for life to move forward again, he had to be erased. Clark didn’t realize he was crying as he heard his friend recount the first time you two had come in and watched you play with the pendant necklace he gave you when you moved in together. He still remembers how nervous he was to gift it to you; worried it was not going to be your style. He remembers how his heart leaped when you squealed with joy at the present. His heart felt heavy knowing you still wore the necklace despite being divorced. It was bittersweet hope that maybe you’d be able to try again without having to do this. He wanted to break through the window and beg you not to forget him but he knew that once your mind was made up, you saw it through. So, he sat down and asked Bruce to erase his memories of your relationship. All Clark wanted was for you to be happy. If that meant erasing him, he would learn to live with that.

As you closed your eyes, recounting the countless memories you had made with Clark for the last five years, it was hard to hold back the few tears that wet your cheeks. Your breathing got heavy as Clark disappeared from your life. Your fingers reached for your necklace - the remaining piece of the love you were erasing from your entire being. You looked at the nurses beside you, asking with teary eyes if you could keep just this one memory for yourself. You softly begged them as one nurse held your hand and told you that it was going to be okay, that the process was almost complete. You took in a shaky breath and closed your eyes as your fingers cling to the pendant; feeling the final memory of Clark’s ocean eyes fade.

When you opened your eyes again, you were slightly disoriented but greeted with the kind face of the nurse. She asked if you were okay and you smiled. You knew whatever just happened, it worked because there was a lightness in your chest. It felt as though you were brand new. As you stood from the chair, you thanked everyone. Without noticing, Bruce Wayne had come in to the room to congratulate you on the success of the procedure. You thanked the billionaire and went about your day. You took in the crisp afternoon air of Gotham and headed back your apartment. Clark came out the building a few minutes after you.

A few years later, life was certainly different. You had landed a job working for the Gotham Gazette as the lead investigative reporter and had made a name for yourself. You were content with life but there was something missing. At night, you found yourself out on dates that never led anywhere. On the nights where it was particularly bad, you phoned your billionaire friend Bruce Wayne whom you grew closer to in the following years with working at the Gazette. He became a confidant for your woes and wishes of your life. Bruce had come to deeply care about you after you had the procedure. Part of the reason was because Clark asked him to look out for you since he wouldn’t be able to. He couldn’t help to grow close to you because you were that type of soul that brought a warmth and comfort he hadn’t felt since he lost his parents.

Clark had focused on his work in the following years of his procedure. He had struck a relationship with his coworker, Lois Lane. They had been together for three years but it wasn’t working. Mainly because Clark hadn’t felt he could spend his life with her. She was beautiful, smart, ambitious and just about everything he could ask for in a partner but there was something missing. He couldn’t put his finger on it and quite frankly it killed him to continue in a relationship he knew wasn’t going to end in marriage.

Bruce had invited you to his charity event to raise money for the orphaned children of Gotham. He always invited you since he knew it could be good for networking for you and every now and then, you would get a date out of it. Clark and the other Justice League members were in attendance for this event as they knew this was an important cause for Bruce. Clark had just broken up with Lois the week prior and had been sulking, He originally wasn’t going to attend the event but Bruce and the others convinced him that a night out would be good for him.

A couple of hours into the event and you find yourself feeling out of place. Especially with the dress you chose; it was from a thrift shop you had found in Gotham and it had more of a bohemian look to it rather than the posh aura the other attendees wore. Bruce had checked in with you a few times to make sure you were okay; knowing how intense the scene of the Gotham elite could be and assuring you in the process of how beautiful you looked. You found yourself at the bar, grabbing what seemed to be your fifth flute of champagne for the night. Your spacial awareness was starting to go so it wasn’t surprising when you bumped into a large figure at your side, spilling some of your drink on him. You were a mess apologizing to the man. You were expecting him to make fuss but it was a pleasant surprise when you heard him softly chuckling at you. You were flushed with embarrassment but when you stared into the eyes of the man, your heart stopped. Meeting his deep blue eyes spread a warmth the champagne earlier hadn’t achieved. His heart also seemed to stop upon meeting your gaze. Your eyes made him feel like he had finally come home after a long journey of searching.

To continue having you in his presence, he joked that you owed him a dance in order to make up for ever so slightly wetting the sleeve of his navy blue suit. Hearing the slight mischievous tone only made you laugh in agreement, a sound he already found addicting. When he pulled you close to him, you hoped he couldn’t hear how hard your heart was beating. As you followed his lead, you relaxed and he took the opportunity to ask for your name.

“Y/N.”

“Clark.”

[idledreams4]

That is sooooo fair lmaoo

tag watches supernatural update: GUYS IM ON THE FANFICTION EPISODE IN SEASON 10 IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS FOR LIKE EVER

edit: HELP OMG THE PLAY IS A MUSICAL LMAPOOOOO THEIR FUCKING FACES WITH THE ZOOM IN IM DYING

[kombuuuu]

Saviour of Mine.

Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

“You want stitches, big boy.”

“You gonna' stay on top of me?”

“No, but I'll make it hurt real nice.”

warnings : a little jealousy, not enjoying the spiderciety, a tad angst, more medical stuff i don’t know shit abt, misunderstandings, creepy obsession by a teacher, it gets better at the end promise,

requested by @viozxe :3 my boy my love i love him (gatekept this image for like two weeks but i finally have somewhere to use it)

For a man so true to his word, Miles had a thing for flaking on you.

You hadn’t seen him in around six hours. The event he had fled from leaving you dressed in your nicest clothes, looking like a sweet mess surrounded by family members not your own. After the first forty or so minutes, you had politely excused yourself from his Mama Rio and Officer Jefferson — Who both insisted you refer to them by their first names — , and booked it out of there.

You'd assumed he'd ran off with his little spider-clique. Something you'd rather not join, considering your particular distain for the man in charge. Who so happened to have quite the distaste for you, also. Avoiding the mirage of spider people had been relatively easy thus far, with the multi-versal gaps and all. But when Gwen Stacy had started to come see Miles more often — You would have to either sit through the excruciating task of listening to them talk. Which involved a lot more intimate moments than you were comfortable with being witness too. Or leave whilst she was there, and presumably not talk to Miles for a few hours — or.. days. Depending on wether he ditched you for her or not.

Having your best friend, of which you had fallen infatuated too, try and get with another girl right on front of you, any time they were together? Not the most ideal of situations. So you went home.

—

You cradled the led pencil on your dominant hand, other tapping to the beat of the song playing through your headphones. Sweet R&B to soothe your woes, whilst you focused on the homework in front of you.

You grabbed the rubber, sighing in exasperation and starting to scrub at your page, getting a little too frustrated and tearing the flimsy paper in the process.

You stared at the tear for a moment before borderline yelling, a tearless sob escaping you before you dropped your head against your desk. Slumping down into a flopped position.

You had to complete this by Monday, you knew that. Mr. Warren was the nicest teacher at your school. He’d helped you when you parents couldn’t. Taken you in — you’d even told him about Miles. He didn’t seem to like him very much, said it was a shame they shared a first name. You thought it was a crazy coincidence.

You slowly slid off your chair, pushing it back on its wheels as you went until eventually you were rested lying on the ground, staring at the window of your room.

Golden light shone through your curtains in a bright calling, basically signalling your escape as it sung to you.

You stared for another solid minute before groaning, Mr. Warren could wait.

Avidly ignoring the ache in your chest at the thought of finding Miles with the current focus of his interest.

You crawled to your closet and reached for the handle, still on the floor — before remembering your Van Der Waals and just using the tip of your fingers to lazily pull it open.

You snorted at yourself, before shuffling through the box at the bottom of your closet and pulling out the sleek spider suit.

The next minute was spent trying to energetically shuffle on your suit, and get your adrenaline running. Which proved working when you were rather excited — or antsy — to swing your way around the city.

You closed your window behind you, crawling up your building and letting the cold air force you more awake.

You backed up, jumping a little hop as you did. Bouncing on your feet before you ran, leaping off your building in a refreshing spin.

An excited yelp left your mouth before you shot a web to the next building over, using the top of a bus on the bust Brooklyn streets to boost your momentum, gradually gaining speed as you swung through the city in a series of twists and flips. Graceful swinging amidst a series of fumbling and laughing to yourself, still somewhat new to the spider-person talents.

You pulled out your phone, the small thigh pocket you had specially designed for your suit making it easier to carry your essentials around when you were in no need for over coats.

You stuttered in your swings, a small squeak escaping you when you almost hit a bird, yelling out a “Sorry!” to the poor thing.

The thwip of your web attaching to a near tall building sent another rush through you, curving yourself between two structures and landing on top of a bell tower. The same one you and Miles had been visiting together for the past year. You tripped a little over your own feet before righting yourself, smiling under the mask.

You didn’t need those other spider people, didn’t need a “Community to fall back on.”—, as that Miguel had put it.

You had yourself, Miles, and a teacher that supported you. And that’s all you needed.

—

You dialled Miles’ number. The irony of your inner statement making you cringe a little. You inner voice convincing you that literally no one else can hear you be embarrassed. You were speaking in your head. Your other—, more combative, inner voice— saying otherwise.

You willed them both quiet as your phone rung.

Miles’ cute face being showing on the profile photo, you stared at it as you waited, foot tapping the cement bell tower.

His face was in your hands, and smiling that charming smile he always did. His cheeks were squished in your hold as you kissed his cheek, holding the camera.

It was a romantic photo, if not for the fact you were best friends. You found yourself getting jealous of your past self. Chastising her for not relishing in that moment further.

Your phone beeped twice, signalling the call ringing out. You stared at it curiously, Eyes of your mask tilting into confused slants.

“C’mon man, pick up.” You whispered to yourself, glaring at the device in your hands and trying again.

When he didn’t pick up then, either — you had started to get impatient. And ended up rolling your eyes at him.

Muttering curses along with phrases of envy under your breath.

You had nothing against Gwen, in all honestly, she was a perfect fit for him — charming and troubled just like he was. Able to bond over their shared issues and shared interest.

Like each other.

You scoffed and shoved your phone back into your pocket, before angrily shooting a web, and slinging away.

Going to a bodega you knew always cheered you up to get rid of the mood you had out yourself in.

—

You walked out of the bodega with your bag in hand, your other waving joyfully to the owner, Hoa, the sweet lady you had met three weeks after moving here. Who made the best Bánh Mi you could find. You pet her cat on the way out, the sweet Turkish Angora purring as she nosed along your hand.

Hoa yelled out for you to “Come back whenever, Spider. On the house, next time.”

“Never on the house, Hoa.”

Her annoyed grumbles fades the farther away you walked. Skipping a bit as you pulled out the food, crisp bread with all the fillings you loved making the first bite look heavenly. You had the urge right then to pull up your mask in front of every flashing camera just to taste that home made bread.

You sighed your compliments instead.

“She never misses.”

“Who never misses?”

You startled at the civilian that had approached you, his tall stature and spiky nature making him stand out so much you wonder how you hadn’t noticed him.

Maybe your spider senses were distracted with your food.

“Oh— uh..,” You sucked your teeth for a second, eyes darting curiously around, wondering why he wasn’t just like the other civilian. Taking photos and videos of you as you walked past — ever fascinated by the new “Hero” around. You would barely call yourself that, but it’s what the people deemed you.

“My.. Friend.”

The man bent down by the waist, hands behind his back as he started walking with you.

“Name’s Hobie. Guessin’ your ‘friend’ made tha’ sweet lookin’ sandwich, mm?”

“Mm.. She uh— Oh, I’m —!..” You paused, tripping over your feet and scuffing your shoes. You cringed under the mask, stuffing the food back into your bag.

“..Spiderwoman.. She makes good food. Yup.”

Hobie snorted at how quick you were about to reveal your identity to who you assumed to be some confident civilian.

You awkwardly walked with him, every now and again glancing longingly at your sub as he leisured in his pace. Taking his sweet time walking who knows where whilst you begrudgingly accompanied the stranger — or not stranger. Acquaintance.

“Ya’ real confident for a Spidey.” Hobies’ sarcastic voice drawled, sniffing and scrunching his eyebrows before his face relaxed into a teasing smile again.

You side glanced him, otherwise focused on trying to leave the conversation. “Well considering there’s only three — two, of us.” You giggled nervously, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Rest in peace, Spidey-1.” You — somewhat — joked.

Hobie let out a snort and choked on his breath, laughing at your awkward nature.

No wonder Miguel hadn’t let anyone even mention your lack of inclusion to the Spider-force.

Not after the first day of trying to convince you, anyhow.

It would have been utterly humiliating to be bested by someone who couldn’t hold a conversation for the life of her.

Hobie had a lot of respect for you, right off the bat. He knew the moment that Miguel (and Jess) had come back from Miles’ universe — pissed off and *alone — that you hadn’t been persuaded. And considering Jess and Miguel had a rather unique skill with their convincing, feeding off vulnerabilities in younger Spider-people to be the lack of parental figure in their lives, or elder — to have relatability in their pains. It wasn’t technically ill intended, but Hobie thinks it’s more than a little manipulative.

So to have you — someone he’s seen is vulnerable, hurting, easy; not fall victim to the duos tactics, and actively *berate them for it.

He was well awed.

And his brotherly instincts kicked in terribly fast. He thinks he sees a lot of himself in you. Awkward and growing into yourself, struggling against the high standards you were held to as a spider. And fighting from that box people tried to put you in.

So yeah, well awed would be an understatement. Proud would be a criminal understatement.

So when he had been looking for Gwen, trying to show her some stupid thing Pavitr had sent him just to show her — and realised she was gone. He checked his watch, lo and behold, she was in your universe.

Meaning she was with Miles, who rather actively tried to steer you away from his spider drama. Right now, though? He was distracted.

And what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

He walked with you for a while longer, letting you both get comfortable in the silence of a stranger.

“This ain’t weird f’ you, mate?”

You had both ended up at some alleyway, filled with stalls of food and bustling people pausing in their tracks to stare at the oddly placed pair of Hero and “Random Punk?”

“Not quite. I’ve had weirder interaction with weirder guys.”

He nodded in acknowledgment.

“Yeah, Guess ‘m not as weird as some villains.” The brit droned, dropping down to your height and eyeing the stalls as you passed, pocketing some things from stores he knew as bigger organisations.

“I was talking about regular people, but yeah those too.”

He laughed, grinning at your dry humour and nodded again, leaning into your view and smirking at your adjusting lenses.

You reached the stall you were looking for, the girl greeting you with a smiling “Hi, Spidergirl!”

Your eyes shrunk, “Spiderwoman, Spiderlady, Spider — and you chose the most demeaning.”

“Well, you are built rather girl like, young and spry and — oh, is that Hoa’s Bahn Mi?”

You nodded enthusiastically at Avanti, dropping your hand into the bag and pulling out a cookie you’d saved for her.

Hobie watched the interaction from stood behind you. Slipping in a “You had a spare cookie this entire time?”

You snorted and Avanti handed you a peach ice tea and a couple of her home-made desserts in a Spider-man themed lunch box. A note reading “Got this just for you — brin bring it back!!” placed on top, you glanced up, putting the lunch box in your bag as you did so and thanked her before you and Hobie were off again. “Seriously, the whole walk. No cookie.”

You laughed at his pouting tone, “I’ll get you one, next time, big man.”

He draped his arm over your shoulder, leaning some weight on you and started talking about random things he could think about during the trip back to your apartment.

You’d grown to enjoy his company, the older man — and his lack of filter — being oddly entertaining. You quipped, and he quipped back. Not enough for you to really trust him seeing your apartment, but enough that you set the boundary on your block.

“Hey Hobes, this has been a really good talk—,”

“Gotta ge’ back to ya’ Spiderin’, aye?”

You smiled up at him, lenses sliding into a pleased expression. “Yeah, real difficult stuff y’know? Saving the city and all that.”

He nodded along with you, right as his funky watch (that did not at all match his outfit, but looked to be bedazzled with a series of metal spikes) beeped. He brought his arm up and checked the small screen, face morphing into one of annoyance. “Aye’. Right timin’ mate, cause I just got a call from HQ.”

“Ahh.. Big cooperation?”

“Not in a million years, brutha’. More like a socie’y.”

He looked up at you and grinned. “Miguel really don’t like when I flake out on ‘im.”

You paused a second while Hobie fiddled with his watch, reaching into his back pocket while checking for anyone around. When he found no one, he slipped out his spiked mask and slid it on.

You stared, dumbfounded.

He clapped your shoulder again, scoffing amused at your wide-eyed expression.

“Was this —“

“A ploy f’ you ta’ join the Spider socie’y? Not a’ all, mate.” He sniffed, itching his head through his mask and squeezing your shoulder.

“I right respect ya’ f’ not joinin’. Wish I woulda’ had ya’ will at my age.”

“Oh… Thanks…”

He nodded at you, Lenses squinting.

“Yeah but, I gotta dip, Gwen’s not distractin’ Miguel with sneakin’ off no more. He pro’bly realised I was gone too.”

“Yuh huh…”

“Bye, [Name].”

You blanched one last time before he shot a web onto your neighbouring apartment building, opened a portal mid-air, and flung himself through.

“What the fuck..” You whispered to yourself, perplexed at the interaction that had just occurred.

“What the hell.”

—

It was two hours later, when you were full of Bahn Mi, Pastries and Ice Tea, rethinking everything he’d said; when his last words caught up to you.

Gwen’s out of this universe. Not in the figurative sense — Although she is everything everyone wants to be, but you’re gonna ignore that — So where the hell was Miles?

It was late now, Moon shining a casted light through your living room drapes just as the Sun had onto your bed hours prior.

You gradually dragged yourself from your couch, reaching over your coffee table with great effort to reach your charging phone.

You huffed, giving up and snatching your web slinger from the floor by your feet and shot a web to grab your phone, tugging it off the charger. The thicker part yanked out the wall instead, landing hard on your torso with a dull thump. You scrunched your face up and grumbled, cursing at the thing while you pull your phone off the now useless charger and throw it on the floor.

“Fuckin’ asshole…”

You flipped your phone, eyes widening when your lock screen lit up with a series of notifications. All getting progressively worse. Your spider-senses growing in alert.

miles (o O) 7:42 PM

haiiii

gwen left

u should’ve hung w us

haha

get it \(^ W ^ )\

hung

cause spider

i’m comigg to home now

yoii r home

soffy swinginf

waiiiiiiiiiixixiiixkm jjj fd

bab guy ine secon

The messages abruptly stopped, being replaced entirely by a series of calls. Some left voice messages, some not.

You clicked on a recorded voice message.

(miles (o O) Left a Message at 7:46 PM.)

“Hey, [Name]!” Miles’ cheery voice rang out through the speakers, bringing a lovesick smile to your face despite the off feeling you had in your chest.

“Just gonna — Oof, hey man! Not cool. — Gonna take care of this guy before—,” A pause and a grunt. “,—Before I come home to you, yeah? Pick up soon I wanna know what you’re doin’.” A begrudged shout sounded far from the speaker. “Are you on call right now?”

“It’s important!”

“We’re fighting!”

“I have a life loser—“ Three harsh beeps rung out, signalling the end of the voicemail.

You clicked on a few more, just quick tidbits of him complaining you not picking up, and fighting an unknown villain. Also complaining how he missed you and “This guys is not goin’ down!” He shouted louder; “C’mon man! I have somewhere to be!” “Suck my dick Spiderman!” “Woah—! Well don’t get angry now, asshole!”

“Hypocrite!”

“Am not!”

“Are too—“ Three beeps.

You clicked again.

“[Name], Please pick up! This guy can— Fuck! — You dickhead!” A beat played and a cough was heard. Your frown deepened.

“I’m at the—“ Cut off.

You checked for another voicemail, one continue the one left off. A worried scrunch in your nose. There wasn’t one.

Right as you were going to call him back, his profile photo popped up again, you pressed answer with a lip between your teeth.

“Miles?” laboured breathing came through the speakers, wet gasps and sniffled coughs every now and again. He was silent for a full minute before answering you.

“Hey, [Name]..” His voice was gravelling and deep, sandpaper against softened lips.

He sounded tired, and your heart rate picked up in fear, almost like he could hear it. “Fuck..,” He whispered into the phone, groaning. Holding the phone loosely on his end, as apposed to the anxious grip you had on on yours.

“I’m.. Stuck in some construction site.” He gasped. “Miles what the hell—!”

“Mi Vida, please. The guys not—“ A loud crash made the speaker in your phone crackle. A whispered “Shit.”, before he hung up.

You wanted to call back, but from his whispering, and panicked tone, you could only guess he was trying to hide.

Whoever this villain was, they weren’t giving up.

—

You followed his tracker, the location he was pinged at getting closer by the second. You breathed hard against the force of wind, dropping down into a run on where the location was set to be.

“Fuck, fuck— Miles where are you?..”

Your footsteps were light, crouching under concrete slabs and tip toeing around loose gravel. Red light was cast along unfinished floors and crumbling walls. Shadows reaching towards you from the corners of your eyes. Your spider senses were on high alert, at a constant buzz. They suddenly upt in pitch and you flinched around, almost screaming at the hand covering your mouth. Pressed harsh against your face, and another around the back of your head so you couldn’t escape. Your hands gripped the wrists of the stranger before you heard an incessant shushing.

“Conejita, quiet.”

You relaxed instantly, the eyes of your mask downturned in fearful stress.

His hands were shaking against your head, figure hunched and body scratched up. The tears in his suit spanning across his right shoulder and chest. He slowly removed his hands, bringing a lone finger to where his lips would be in his mask in a ‘hush hush’ manner.

Coming in closer to you, leaning down to where your ear would be and whispering “He’s still here.”

You grabbed his forearms, leading him deeper into the site, away from the reddened lights and into the creeping shadows.

He breathed heavy behind you, throat wet with his own blood, he grunted and tried to help you in walking with him, good arm thrown over your shoulder as you dragged him. “C’mon, just a little farther.”

“What’re you…” He cut himself off, heaving. You set him down in the quiet corner, tucked behind two large concrete sheets and some large bent up pipes.

“Just—, sit here Miles, okay?” You brought his head up to yours, still talking in a quietened voice. Hands on his face and crouched in front of his slumping form.

“I’ll be right back, don’t move.”

You stood from crouching, hands slipping off his face while he dragged forward to stay in your grasp — mumbling something like a plea for you to stay.

You turned from him, dashing away in silent movements, slinging yourself up onto high ground and turning back to make sure he wasn’t visible unless you truly looked — he wasn’t.

You lept off, disappearing from his sight with a yank against your webs.

He mumbled, shifting closer in your direction as the exhaustion hit him. Huffing, he leant back. Letting his head hit the wall and focus on keeping his eyes open.

"Quédate despierto.. No te muevas..."

“Stay awake.. Don’t move…”

He heaved again, the heaviness in his chest deepening.

“Stay…” He closed his eyes — for just a second, just for the relief — Dragging his hand up to rip the mask off of him, and forcing himself to open them again, to watch the Moon.

“Awake.”

—

You creep around corners, listening in and honing your senses to a point. For anything, a trip, a movement. A breath.

You whipped your head to the left, following the sound of light breathing.

“Come out little bunny.”

You tensed, he’d heard you.

“Ah, don’t worry, honey—,” You heard him creep forward, closer to you. He didn’t know where you were, obvious by the hesitance in his steps, but he had the right direction. You can move now, he would hear. And with how he’d heard Miles’ mere whisper before, you suggest maybe he had an ability similar to your own. “,Not him I want, anyways.”

That made your shoulders loosen a little, but you never rested. Who knows whether he was lying or not.

You shot a web, hitting the pipe of your aim and jumping from one to another, using your webs to steady yourself. You heard him huff a laugh.

“I heard that.”

Your eyes slanted, crouching into a spidered position. You crawled, using the stick of your fingers to steady across the pipe, sticking to it and trying to find the mystery man in the sea of red the warning lights casted.

Your spidey-senses went haywire and you jumped from the pipe in less than a second. Right as you did, a bang went off and you stumbled forward, landing in rubble and groaning. Rolling before you steadied yourself and jumped up. No rest until your opponent is resting in Death.

You finally saw him. What looked to be some guy in a green fuzzy suit.

“My girl..”

“Wha— *Are you a furry?”

He groaned, and charged for you, right hand outstretched and left in a clenched fist. He swung for your head, twisting his body as he did. You shot a web on his abdomen, pulling him towards you and jumping to slip under his arm, using his prior speed to throw him into a block of concrete, just missing a pole from stabbing him through the chest. He glanced at for a moment and grabbed his head — which had taken quite the hit.

“Seriously what type of Grinch cosplay is this?”

He growled again, like a man with rabies.

“C’mon dollface, don’t fight me here.”

“You hit first, asshole — Also what the fuck, i’m not your ‘doll’.” He shot for you again, throwing a bomb behind you to throw your body forward, you tried to grapple for stability, webbing to anything in reach. But he gripped your waist and held you against him.

“[Name]…”

You froze, body wanting to gag and shed your own skin at the same time.

You swung for his jaw, knocking him clean off you with a disgusted hand.

“Who the fuck are you!?”

He held his jaw and you stumbled farther from him. Hands held beside you, ready to attack if needed.

He grinned at you, blood seeping onto the green fur of his face, you felt sick.

“Oh, come on, babyface.” His jenky voice was digging into your skin, peeling it up and stabbing into your muscle. Twitching into your flesh and making your body hurt, making you hurt.

You ripped your mask up and hurled, spitting nothing but bile onto the ground below you, the burn of stomach acid sitting heavy in your throat and you felt like crying. Your breath heavy and gasps painful.

“What the fuck.”

—

You smiled at your professor. Waving back at him from the other side of the lecture hall. Miles come up behind you and hooked his arm around your shoulder, swaying against you as he chatted with you about anything that had happened in the time he hadn’t seen you. You snorted, chatting back — Forgetting completely about the other Miles.

You dropped your shoulder and your Miles stumbled, grumbling up at you before you gripped his forearm and dragged him to sit with you at the back of the hall. His mood changing in an instant as he followed along like a lost puppy, gawking at you with a dopey smile plastered across his face. His canines exposed, charming and boyish. How he always is. You sat him down, and sat next to you, and he dragged your chair a little closer, grabbing you leg and placing it over his.

He started laughing again at the eye roll you gave him, and you cracked — smiling and giggling with him.

What you hadn’t seen, was the glare settled on the two of you. The way Warrens previous smile had dropped into a snarling frown, hands gripping the pencil he had been holding in a death grip. He jumped at the sound of a crack, the pencil had snapped in his hands and he got even more pissed, about to scream at the *other Miles to get away from you. To get his hand off you.

That kid didn’t deserve you like he did.

You loved him like he loved you, he knew it.

You had too.

He watched you laugh and his heart fluttered, angry at who you were laughing for but still — you were so pretty.

You wouldn’t be laughing like that if he wasn’t here. You loved him.

—

“Mr. Warren?”

“How many times have I told you to call me Miles?” He slipped out of his own head, breaking from the stare he had on you.

You laughed sweetly, eyes shining. “How many times have I told you I already *have a Miles?”

He watched your smirk as you quipped back at him, a jealousy brimming in his chest. He chuckled, a heartless sound to no one but himself.

“Ahh, How many times am I going to forget?” He tapped his pencil on his desk and tried to focus on you instead. He watched you go back to your work, so intelligent, mature.

You shaded in the answer on the sleek sheet. You were right, of course.

A hair fell from behind your ears and he wanted to tuck it back, wanted to give you straight A’s for nothing despite knowing you would get them anyways.

You threaded you hand through your hair and if he wasn’t focused on how beautiful you were — maybe he’d be disappointed it wasn’t his own.

He watched you, forgetting the papers he was grading — he was focused on something else, now.

—

He was standing when you turned back. Hunching over his injuries and staggering towards you.

“Mr. Warren?”

“Yes, my dear.”

You gagged again, and he looked sad at the act.

“Please, baby—“ He stretched out his right hand, pleading with you.

“,—I know you love me too. I know that fucking Spider is taking you from me.”

He stepped closer.

“I know it.”

You stumbled back farther, wiping the spit from you lips and pulling your mask down, you went to shoot a web, to get away. But he was on you before you could, the hand not outstretched revealing a cloth covering his palm. Sodden and dripping a clear liquid.

He gripped your suit and dragged you forward, shoving the cloth closer to your face.

“Stop fucking resisting.”

“Get off!”

You gripped his forearm and bent it back, far enough you heard a snap. He yelped out. The sweet smelling cloth dropped from his hand and his other lost grip on your shirt. Taking the opportunity you dropped down, crouching on one leg and using the other to swipe the things legs from under him.

You watched him fall and grabbed the cloth. Hearing his pained groans as he tried to scramble up again.

You kicked a leg over him, straddling his chest and bringing your free hand back — swinging down on him with anguished cries.

He tried to raise his hands, you pinned them down in his own chloroform ridden cloth. He called your name, endearments that made you skin crawl. Tried kicking you off as his body grew weaker. Pleading with you, using his remaining strength to yank at his own arms.

He wrestled against your hits, face bloodied and nose broken. You hit again, watching his disgusting face whip to the side, blood leaking from his mouth as a tooth went flying.

Tears breached the edge of your eyes, frustration of every kind tearing your skin anew, your knuckles pouring the hurt you felt. Blood mixing in a sickening spill of feelings, an obsessive love — something cruel and harsh. And the injuries you’d sustained from it, equally as such cruel.

You’d spent *months trying for a man in love with someone else. And this man you had confided in, who had been a mentor in your trivialities — had taken advantage of that, of you.

He disgusted you.

You kept swinging.

—

Miles jerked awake, gripping the hands that were on his shoulders in an instant, the figure flinching back at his strength.

“Miles! Just me—,” He opened his eyes further, pain ringing through his body as he loosened in your hold.

“Just you.”

He took your appearance in, the blood coating your suit, that hadn’t seemed to be your own. The thick liquid shining on your hands and forearms, crudely splashed onto your mask — like something out of a horror film.

He reached up slowly, pulling off you mask with great effort. His own sitting next to him. You were on your knees before him, bathing in red so deep it could have been mistaken for black against the reddened light. He groaned when you touched his chest, coughing a little at the pain.

“Sorry! Sorry — I’m so sorry.” You quickly retracted your hand and gasped. Apologising through near tears. He wet his lips, watching your tear lined eyes in worry.

“Hey— Conejita, what— what happened?”

Letting his hands rest on your cheeks, carbon fibre wiping at soft skin.

You sobbed, gripping his wrists and moving his weak hands closer to you. His brows furrowed further.

“I don’t — I don’t know, he —,”

You breathed fast against his palms, crying to him. Miles straightened himself up, ignoring the pains shooting up his body and trying to comfort you, shushing your cries and cradling your face.

“Mr. Warren he was —“

Miles’ eyes widened, finally letting the familiarity in his voice click. That was who it was, who was so mad at him, disgusted by the Spider.

Miles shuddered, thinking back to the off feeling he’d always had around the older man.

How he was always around you.

“What did he do.”

His eyes darkened and you cried harder, Miles had completely forgotten about his wounds, shifting to get up and find the fucking bastard.

You gripped him tighter, “Miles. He’s not —,”

“Where is he.”

“Dead.”

His breath escaped him, the blood made sense now. He got closer to you and slid his hand around your head, pushing your face into his good shoulder.

You cried again, shaking form cradled against his own weakened body.

“Shh, Mami. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“We’re alright, I promise.”

He hugged you closer, pressing a haste kiss to your forehead.

“You’re safe.”

—

You helped him home, having to hold him up and swing at the same time, which wasn’t much as a hassle as you thought it would be.

You both sat on your couch, him lying down with you sitting on his thighs.

He watched you work, suit and mask discarded somewhere in your living room and clad only in a pair of loose joggers you had found for him.

Your face was pinched into a frown, eyes still puffed from crying and a brows scrunched unpleasantly.

“Stop moving.”

“I’m not.” He threw his head back, rolling his eyes at your complaining.

“See? Moving.” You poked his chest and he winced.

“Okay! Okay— Damn, chica.”

You smiled at his tone, a small, timid thing. And he pushed down the fluttering in his stomach.

“You’re lucky you don’t need stitches.”

“Lucky? Havin’ you here longer would make me lucky.”

You grumbled, pouting at him angrily. “You want stitches, big boy?”

“You gonna stay on top of me?”

“No, but i’ll make it hurt real nice.”

He snorted, shifting to look at you better.

“Then, nah.”

You kept at your work, patting him with antiseptics and making him hold an ice pack across the forming bruises.

And he admired you, the streaks of light from the window falling against your face. A city ridden with crime making you so, so pretty.

“Why’d you come for me?”

You gave him a curious look but continued to patch him up. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I?”

He sniffled, averting his gaze. “I dunno I just— didn’t expect you to show up.”

You shook your head a little, understanding his fears.

“I’d always show for you, Miles.”

He hummed, flustered at the thought.

You moved up to his face, gently patting away blood with a warm hand towel, your other hand holding his face towards you. Fingertips brushing his cheeks in a hold so caring he might’ve fainted if it wasn’t you holding him. He’d stay awake for you this time. He’d protect you this time.

“I love you.”

You froze, towel stuck in the air and your eyes locked onto his.

Miles held his breath, waiting for your reply as he watched you clock the words.

His nerves got to him quick, spouting out whatever he could in your silence.

"Estaba hablando con Gwen y me ayudó a darme cuenta, ¿sabes? No paraba de decir que estaba enfermo de amor, yo no lo entendía y pensé que quizás debería..."

“I was just talking with Gwen and she helped me realise, you know? Kept saying I was lovesick and I didnt get it and I just thought maybe I should—“

“I love you too.”

He snapped his gaze back to you. Hope colouring his eyes a sparkling gold.

“You do?” He whispered, an intimacy running through his bloodstream. Heart pumping too fast in haste of the pure admiration he held for you.

You nodded, and your hands splayed out further, cradling the edge of his lips.

“I do.”

He tried to sit up, abs clenching under effort to get closer to you, you let him drag you forward. He ditched the ice pack and settled his hands on the crest of your thighs, rubbing his thumb over your hips.

“Say it again?”

He whined, begging you. He wanted, needed to hear you say it again.

“I love you.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, forehead pressing against your own. You followed.

The things he felt for you were too much, too much. His chest was heaving again, but not from pain. This was love he hadn’t experienced before, this was anything but painful.

"Dios, también te amo."

“God, I love you too.”

Your hands slipped from his lips to the back of his neck, scratching gently along his nape and he shivered.

“Let me kiss you? Please?”

He whispered again, voice cracking. Chapped lips brushing against your own softer ones in a featherlight touch. He was holding off, not letting himself the pleasure without you wanting him back — he wanted to know you wanted him back.

“Please.” You were sure, certain — and it was all he needed.

He kissed you sweetly, letting himself indulge in you without restraint.

He hadn’t known what he’d been missing out on — but now he does. Know he knows. And god, if he hadn’t felt more full in his entire life.

Everything had been bland compared to you, had been bitter and dull against the sweetness of your lips. Smooth against rough skin and he’d never felt something so soft before. His hands gripped you harder for just a moment and you pulled back merely an inch to catch your breath. He opened his eyes and watched your lips sparkle in the same light he’d admired minutes before.

“I love you too.”

You smiled at him and he pulled you ever closer. “I know, Miles.”

—

“I fuckin’ told ya’, mate.”

“Wh— I never said otherwise!”

“Yeah but ya’ neva’ agreed either, aye?”

“I never disagreed.”

“Pff, whateva.”

Gwen rolled her eyes, scoffing at the brit next to her with a smile on her face.

They watched you both as Miles nervously introduced you to Peter. A sort of Spider-convention was set up. And the invite was — begrudgingly — extended to you.

“They’re cute, though.”

“Bloody oath.”

You offered the older man with a warmed gaze, turning to the kid in his arms and cooing. He smiled at you, being one of your favourite spiders had its perks.

He was one of the only ones who never tried to make you join the society, so he got a pass from you.

Miles held your hand and smiled, chatting with Peter excitedly once he realised the lack of tension.

“Do you want to hold her?”

“Do I—,” You looked up at him hopefully. “Yes! Uh— Yeah. Yes please.”

You dropped Miles’ hand and he pouted, watching you take the baby from Peters arms, the early father fretting as you waved him off, insuring him you knew how to care for a child.

Peter relaxed and stood next to Miles as you rocked his baby gently. A rather fond feeling overtaking them both — leading Peter to take a photo of you with his kid, and Miles to shyly ask him to send it to him.

The look of you with a kid? It was way too early in life for baby fever.

He huffed when he heard people making kissy noises behind him. You too preoccupied with entertaining the kid to realise it.

He turned to the trio of teens behind him and flipped them off. Pavitr gasped offendedly at him and Hobie and Gwen laughed, causing Miles to roll his eyes and snort.

“Assholes.”

You gently passed MayDay back to Peter and gave a quick kiss to her head. Peter going off to get her a bottle.

Miles came up next to you and you smiled at him, watching the skyline from the buildings rooftop.

“[Name].”

You huffed and rolled your eyes at the voice behind you.

Way to ruin a moment.

“Miguel.”

You turned to him, Miles cringing quickly as he turned with you.

“Hey— Miguel! Crazy seein’ you here, haha! Insane.” Miles nervously laughed, his voice deepening on the last word and you coughed a laugh, agreeing with him.

“Uhuh, crazy.” A sly smile adorned your features and you grabbed his hand again, interlocking your fingers in a foxy movement.

“You weren’t invited.”

“Huh? Of course I wasn’t!—“ Your smirk grew bigger. “—I’m a plus one.”

He glared down at you and it only felt all the more justifiable, he opened his mouth to talk before Peter was dancing over with MayDay held out.

“Here take this, thanks!”

He quickly handed her off to Miguel and spun him around by his shoulders, continuing to walk with him in the other direction. “She needs a sleep. Rock her to sleep.”

“Wh—“

“Rock her.”

—

Miles gripped your hips, swaying gently with you to the soft music playing in your kitchen. Your Ma had left two weeks prior for a month long work trip, and he couldn’t stay away. The domesticity he had built with you reaching an all time high as he watched you cook.

He rested his head on your shoulder and you both continued to sway a little. Moving his hands past your hips to lean his hands on the bench you cut your food on, caging you in slightly. You hummed, reaching for a tomato and placing it on the board.

“I love you.”

You giggled — a sweet, girlish thing.

“Love you too, baby.”

“Love you more.” He smiled against your shoulder.

“Pfft, yeah okay, big boy.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed, and his heart fluttered again.

—

GOD DAMN AS ALWAYS WAY OFF THE RAILS

lovely translator @sataraxia

(literally my bf the delusions are getting worse he’s my bf guys!!! ⬇️)

[dp-marvel94]

Graveyard of Identities- Chapter 1

Summary:

Danny should feel lucky to be alive. After a month held captive by Vlad, barely remembering his life before, and nearly dying in his escape, he is finally safe, with friends in the Far Frozen. And yet, dread gnaws at him- a massive revelation at the edge of his consciousness, forgotten until the dead of night. It was a lie. All a lie. His past, his memories: all false. Amity Park, his friends and family: all real but… not his. The secret locks in his throat, unthinkable. He stays silent while the yetis welcome him as one of their own. But they do not know. And he can not tell them. He is not the Danny they think he is. He is not Danny at all.

Word Count: 3346

Next Chapter->

Also on A03

Note:

Hello lovely readers! Welcome to my story for Invisobang 2024! It has been a long time coming and I am so excited to finally share it with you all!

As you can see, this story is the second in a series. For those who read "Hope Can Be Heavy Thing to Hold," this is its much anticipated (by me at least) sequel! Part of me doubted this day would ever come. It's been almost 5 years since I wrote Hope and while I always planned that there would be more to the story, life (and other phic ideas XD) kept side-tracking me. My writing has changed and improved at lot since the end of 2019. And I really hope those lessons produced a better story than otherwise.

For those joining from Invisobang, welcome! Please do not feel intimidated by the fact that this is a sequel. My hope is that this will be a enjoyable story, even without that background. (Though if anyone gets curious and checks out the previous work, I will not complain of course XD)

Since this work was written as part of Invisobang, I was lucky enough to work with two wonderful artists. @suzukiblu made this lovely artwork and posted it here . @mysterious-ink-slime made her own piece, link to be added once it's posted. A huge thanks to both of them! Go give their art all the love!

Also, a special note on the title! For years, I had my heart set on naming this sequel after this particular GFM song and now I have! Graveyard of Identities by Gold, Frankincense, and Myrrh; you can watch the music video here . This song is about the transforming power of pain, letting the old die, and rising as someone new. To me, it compliments the theme of this story perfectly. Special thanks to CJ and Maggie for inspiring me with their art and listening to me talk about my own.

And the specialist thanks to my sister, @nervousdragonrebelpie , for listening to me ramble about this story for months. This story is much better thanks to her listening ear and thoughtful suggestions.

Finally, thank to all you readers. I love and appreciate all your support and encouragement. And I eagerly await all your thoughts and feelings and screaming at me in the comments. XD Happy reading!

Was this… death? 

Floating sightless, soundless. Almost without thought. Too far away and hazy for fear. Just the numb warmth of darkness. 

Drifting without form, the fragile center lay exposed. Something gently brushed. Cradling mist; Soft pin-pricks of cloud. Smell-sight-taste of green, old pennies and lime. The feelings arose, more shapes of ideas than anything real.

The world shifted, brightening into bleary focus. Something inside stirred, the sensation like blinking without eyes. Awareness flickered sharper and then dim. Sharper, then dim. 

A vibration caught on his consciousness. Many and small and gently plopping like… rain. Rain, streaming down, around, through. Understanding slowly dawned and then… awe.

Green, crisp and bright as a spring day, overcame him. It flowed in, warm and safe and all encompassing. It filled his mind, every part of himself. 

And… Mind. He had a mind, a self. He existed. He was a person. He was still here. Maybe he wasn’t-

Darkness rushed back, like a wave crashing on the shore. A gentle death-like sleep took him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Suddenly he was falling. Air rushed passed and bonelessly, he impacted. 

The shock of cold stole his breath more than the crash. Something light and airy cushioned his fall, his face half buried in the chill.

Heavily, his eyes dragged open. White filled his dim vision. In the distance…. The sound tickled his ear, an electric roar. Struggling, his gaze drifted up. Blurry silver and blue shapes quickly approached. 

His mind crawled, thought unreachable. Unable to process, unable to move, mind and body weighed down by crushing exhaustion. 

But confusion chipped at the edge, clawing for purchase. Fear, familiar and ever present, lingered under the surface, though neither rose to awareness, the fatigue too great.

Darkness pulled him down again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beeping near his head crashed through the darkness. He was lying down, soft plushness underneath him. Familiar… too familiar…. 

A slimy voice echoed in his head. ‘Son, you're awake.’ 

The boy’s heart rate spiked, a jolt of panic. Burning red eyes flashed in his mind, a clawed hand squeezing his wrist. 

He gasped, whole body flinching. Blurry eyes flickered open to all consuming white. Dread surged. No. This couldn’t-

The beeping grew louder, followed by the cacophony of pounding feet.

The boy flailed weakly, heavy body struggling to move. In his elbow… something hard and cold. His arm jerked violently, other hand scrambling. A stab of pain, a release of pressure. Cold wetness welled up, a flash of green on pale skin. 

‘Now Daniel. Stop being difficult.’

No, not Daniel. Never Daniel. Danny. His name was Danny.

“Great One, calm down. You are safe.” A calm voice cut through A furry, horned face… wearing a surgical mask?

Panic swelled. Who? Where? What? This wasn’t-

A different, higher voice. “You are safe, Great One.” 

Great One? No, that wasn’t… His mind scrambled for purchase, words and thoughts slipping. 

“His ecto-pressure is dangerously elevated.” “He’s going into shock.” “Sedate him.” 

He didn’t... Where was he? Where was Vla-

The pinch of a needle, jabbed into his neck. No! He would be good. He didn’t need to be punished again-

Consciousness ripped away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An unknowable time later, Danny drifted up through the darkness. Soft and gentle. His heart beat slowly, a calm, even timbre. And he was, at last, aware.

Soft fabric under him, wrapped around his body. The quiet, ambient sounds of lights buzzed in his ears.  Far away water dripped. His own soft breathing. Soft white light ghosted over his eye lids. 

Said eyes blinked slowly, half-lidded. They felt so heavy. An experimental wiggle of his fingers… the boy groaned, sudden sensation hitting him. Everything ached, from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. Every inch of his skin felt raw and fresh, like it had been removed in pieces and now was newly reassembled. Like a weird gross puzzle.

Danny laughed at the idea and a second later, his lungs spasmed painfully. He let out another, louder groan.

“Great one?” A loud, worried voice cut through the air. 

His heart skipped a beat, the surge of fear returning. He’d woken up earlier, hadn’t he? Laying on his back, beeping by his head, all consuming white. And now… He finally registered the towering figure at his bedside. 

“Who…?” His voice shook, weak and unused. “Where…?”

The figure leaned closer, the face becoming visible. A furry muzzle, sharp teeth, icy horns. 

Danny tensed, a flash of panic. But… the wide, concerned blue eyes. A memory bloomed in his head.

Tightly hugging a white, furry yeti in an icy place.

Instantly, the boy relaxed. “Frostbite?” The names came out with hardly a thought, the knowledge just there in his head.

The yeti’s expression softened, visibly relieved. “Yes, it is me.” A gentle paw gripped his shoulder. “Relax. You are safe.”

Safe…. The word ran in his mind. It felt like an impossible improbability. But… Frostbite was a friend, right? The yeti’s kind eyes and jovial laugh rose in his mind, the image strangely distant. 

Danny let out a breath, a surge of relief coursing through him. But the action made him grimace, nose wrinkling.

“Are you in pain?” Frostbite asked eagerly. “Here, allow me.” He fiddled with one of the tubes attached to Danny at his elbow, just passed the sleeve of what was maybe a hospital gown. A plunger depressed. “That should dull the ache.”

The boy gasped as something cold entered his vein. He blinked rapidly, surprised as the pain dulled to a small pin prick in the back of his mind.

“Wow…. That’s… that’s so much better.” He smacked his dry lips.

“Water?” The yeti offered. A glass with a straw appeared and with a flip of a switch, the bed shifted under him, allowing him to recline.

The cup lifted to his lips, Danny drank shakingly. The cool water soothed his sand-papery throat, a blessed respite after… after….

He couldn’t remember. That sent a stab of worry. But he was here with Frostbite, one of his friends. Allies? The shape of that felt right. He’d gotten here, somehow. Wherever here was.

Finally the boy swallowed. “Where am I?”

“In our medical facility.” Frostbite answered. “You have been in and out of consciousness for quite a while. This is your first time being coherent on awakening.”

Quite a while…. It was coming back to him now. He only remembered waking up that last time, panicked at the sound of the beeping by his head. His eyes flitted to the device… a heart monitor. 

That was… strangely familiar. His stomach twisted with dread, echoes of previous panic. The heart monitor reminded him of before. He had been… somewhere, somewhere bad. His mouth felt dry, the memory just out of reach… 

Danny swallowed. “How did I get here?”

“You triggered a perimeter beacon.” The yeti said, voice taking on a grave tone. “A patrol found you in the snow, unconscious and dangerously unstable. The guards rushed you here and we attended you. It was… We were worried for a long while, that your injury was too great.” His voice wavered with emotion, an air of heavy grief. “That you would… leave us. But…” A watery smile bloomed. “The most dangerous part has passed. You are recovering wonderfully. And you are finally awake.”

“Yeah….” That was… a lot. Danny’s brow furrowed. His mind swam, relief, sadness, and… a mounting unease clashing. 

Frostbite seemed to pick up on the feeling. “What is it, Great One?”

“I don’t…” He bit his lip. “That’s… a lot. Thank you for finding me and saving me. I’m grateful, really grateful. I…I know I’m safe. But…” His insides twisted, a queasy feeling. “I…I apparently almost died and I don’t… don’t remember what happened.”

The yeti’s eyes rounded, the concern turning worried. “What is the last thing you remember?”

Before… the heart monitor beeping near his head, a room with white sheet and fancy wooden furniture. A man with white hair, a smug smile, and red eyes.

“Vlad.” The knowledge hit him like a truck. “I was at Vlad’s mansion!” Danny jolted, trying to sit up more fully with a wince.

“The other half ghost?” Frostbite put a paw on his arm, gently lowering him back to the bed. “You are enemies, are you not?”

“He… he kidnapped me.” More images flashed. The plain, impersonal bedroom. The metal panels of the training room. The trap door in the greenhouse. “Vlad kidnapped me. He was…keeping me captive.” His face wrinkled in a grimace. “He made me call him Dad and train with him and watch football…” 

“Plasmius keeping you captive.” Frostbite looked just as stricken. “That is worrying….”

Danny’s stomach turned, sickened. “He… he hurt me.” Vlad’s hand across his face, electricity searing his limbs, locked in a small dark space. “He did something to my mind.” The jar of Lethean water, the tree with red and blue berries. “I didn’t remember anything. He was trying to brainwash me into being his… his perfect son but…”

He was missing something, something big. The gap loomed, dark and constricting. His voice quickened, from something uneasy and wary to panic. “I can’t… I can’t remember.”

“It is alright.” The yeti tried to soothe. 

The calm voice failed to ease the distress. “I can’t remember.” But… the dark, earthen passage. The lab, bathed in green portal light. Jars and beakers, tables and weapons. The foreboding door. “I was… I was in the lab. I was trying to escape but…” Broken glass and metal, spilled ectoplasm. Vlad’s mocking voice. “He… he interrupted me.”

Danny’s blood chilled, dread dropping in his stomach like a stone. He saw it as clearly as Frostbite across from him.

Vlad’s face set in a sneer, as hellish as the vampire he played at. The taser in Danny’s hand. He jabbed with it but… too late. The man caught his wrist, fingers squeezing. ‘You oppose me at every turn.’

“Vlad… he broke my wrist.” Numbly, the boy stared down at his right hand. The wrist was unwrapped, no sign of the fracture. He felt sick. 

“I tried to fight him.” Electricity pouring from his hands, Vlad twitching on the floor. “But I wasn’t… wasn’t strong enough.”

Harsh, hateful words echoed in his mind, too far away to remember. Tears had been on his face, back there in the lab and…. Now, here in the medical wing. 

Frostbite said something, paws moving toward his face but all Danny could see…

On the floor, Vlad looming over him, his eyes insane, full of dark possessiveness. Agony gnawed at Danny’s heart, the feeling of his world crashing down around him.

“He held me down, electrocuted me.” Danny trembled, the tears falling. “I couldn’t move, couldn’t fight back. It… it hurt, my core hurt so much.”

A look of understanding, of revelation flashed on Frostbite’s face. But the boy barely registered. Just the comforting furry arms moving to embrace him.

Hands and feet, cold and tingly… then wet. Ectoplasm welling, sickly neon green. “I…I started melting.” Danny froze in Frostbite’s hold, eyes wide and devastated. “Vlad shocked me and I started mel.. melting.” 

His hands and feet dissolving away, staring at the ceiling through his tears. “Vlad… he tried to… to kill me. He tried to kill me.”

That was it. That must have been it, the earth-shattering thing he was forgetting. The green spreading to his shoulders, his hips. His core locking up, shaking with agonizing shocks. 

In his mind, Vlad hovered over him, shouting. A boom, metal crumpling, sudden icy chill. He couldn’t move. Helpless. He was going to die…

In Frostbite’s arms, Danny shook. “I… I thought I was going to die.” Sudden silence. A figure kneeling over him, unseen through his tears. “I was melting… I… I couldn’t move.”

His heart ached with longing. Familiar faces flashed in his mind. His parents, Sam and Tucker, Jazz. “I…I just wanted to go home. I barely remembered them, barely remembered who I was.” The memory flickered, finding his parents’ picture in the book in Vlad’s office, his real name printed in the pages, and the sheer joy that had overtaken him. “I just wanted to go home.” He was trying to go home to his friends and family but… 

In the lab, a mouth hung above him, lips making the words ‘I’m sorry.’

Danny recoiled at the memory, burying his face into Frostbite’s fur. It… it didn’t make sense. Vlad would never say he was sorry. He couldn’t remember… but he was dying, his mind swimming, far away and terrified and- 

“I didn’t want to die!” The boy practically screamed. The force of the words, the sudden realization had him violently pushing himself from the yeti’s arms. “Am I dead?!”

“No. No. No.” Danny pulled at his hair. He’d barely gotten to live and now he was dead. “I can’t… I can’t be dead.”

“No, great one.” Frostbite’s paws appeared on his arms, gently pulling his tugging fingers from his hair. “You are not dead.”

Danny blinked, the panic rushing out of him. His heart, or the illusion of one, still pounded, yet shaking arms gently lowered “But…. but I melted.” He flinched at his own words, the next coming out quiet, pained. “How?”

The yeti chief’s brow furrowed. “You said you were in your enemy's lab when this happened. Perchance, do you remember a portal there?”

The boy’s brow furrowed, surprised by the question. “Yes?”

Frostbite nodded gravely. “I suspect you teleported into the Realms.” Danny’s lack of understanding must have been obvious on his face, because the yeti’s expression softened, voice soft and slow like he was talking to a hurt child. “Teleporting is one of your abilities, even if it has not developed fully yet. When your body… dissipated, you would have been reduced down to your core.”

“My core?” Danny looked down at his chest, raising a shaky hand to it.

“Yes.” The yeti nodded. “Grievous injuries will condense a ghost into their core. As long as the central part of their being remains intact, a ghost can survive. But,” Worried eyes fixed on the half ghost. “Cores will crack and fade if there is a deficiency of ectoplasm.”

The boy’s mouth felt dry. “Like in the human world.”

“As in the material realm, yes.” Frostbite agreed. “In a last ditch effort to save you, your core mostly likely used the last of its energy to teleport into an ectoplasm rich environment.“

“So I went through the portal.” Danny bit his lip, voice shaky. “But…I don’t remember that. Why don’t I remember that?”

The yeti gently reached forward, pulling the ghost boy once again into his arms. “Most ghosts do not remember the time spent as just their core. It is like… your human sleep, I believe. Or unconsciousness.”

“Yeah…” That made a type of sense. Distantly, Danny remembered darkness, the feeling of drifting, disconnection from his senses. He swallowed. “So I ended up in the Zone. What then?”

“You presumably drifted for a while.” Frostbite motioned to the boy’s core. “The scans of your core we took while you were unresponsive suggested you had recently re-formed. This is consistent with your lack of external injuries. You most likely came back together in the ectoplasmic nebula near our island.”

Danny’s brow furrowed for a long moment, mind processing. Finally… “I… re-formed? What… what does that mean?”

“Your core rebuilt your body using the surrounding ectoplasm.” A large paw patted the boy’s back. “You are fortunate you drifted into a nebula. The plentiful, active ectoplasm creates a rich, bountiful area for injured ghosts to re-form, and for the new creation of many others. And you found yourself so close to friends…” Frostbite smiled encouragingly. “The Divine must smile on you, indeed.”

The half ghost did not feel very encouraged. He stared at his hands, insides twisting. “So this is a new body…” He shakily removed his gloves, eyes trailing over the familiar fingers. The short, round fingernails, the light green skin, every crinkled line in his palm… everything looked the same as he remembered but… “Are you sure I’m not a full ghost?”

Frostbite squeezed one shoulder comfortingly. “Yes, I am sure. I myself saw your internal anatomy continues to reflect that of your human body. And on your core, the ability to transform between your two forms remains visible as well.”

Danny let out a sigh of relief. He looked at his hands again. Suddenly… he needed to be human again, needed to see that he was still alive. His aura flickered, mind searching for the trigger.

“Do not try to change yet.” The yeti gently reprimanded. 

Disappointment rushed through the boy, guilty unease flickering. Had he done something wrong?

But Frostbite continued before he could ask why. “The potential for your human form still exists, but without real world matter to reassemble it, it is inaccessible. We have been providing material world water and nutrients to you intravenously but your body still requires more time to recover.”

“Oh.” Danny nodded in understanding. “That makes sense. Wait..” His eyes widened, his nose wrinkling in distaste. “What do you mean you saw my internal anatomy yourself?” He side-eyed the yeti.

With that, Frostbite’s face turned apologetic. “My apologies, Great One. I mean, we had to perform surgery.” His expression turned serious, crinkled with worry. “Our scans found a foreign object embedded in your core. It was periodically electrocuting you, causing… dissolution in your extremities.”

The boy’s eyes widened, stomach twisting. Frostbite had said at the beginning that it had been touch and go for a long while there but…

“It was worsening so…” The yeti paused for a moment there, arms gently squeezing the shaken boy. “The other doctors and I performed surgery and extracted it.” 

Well, that was a relief. After a moment, Danny swallowed. “Can I see it?”

Frostbite paused, giving him a searching look. “Are you certain?”

Decisively, the boy nodded. “Yes.”

“Very well.” With that, the chief opened his arms, gently placing Danny back on the bed.

The boy had a long moment to blush, just realizing. He’d been sitting in the ghost’s lap for most of that conversation, like he was a little kid. He wiped his face with his hands, trying to shrug off the embarrassment.

Meanwhile, the yeti stood, rifling through drawers. After about several seconds, he returned. Frostbite gravely presented the jar. 

Wordlessly, Danny took the container between his hands. He studied the contents. A tiny metal strip laid there innocently, y shaped and as long as the end of his pinky. “This is it.” A lump formed in his throat. “This is what Vlad used to… to try and kill me.”

The full ghost’s face scrunched up, eyes alight with anger. “I had suspected this device was the cause of your injury. To violate one's core like this…” His nostrils flared, expression positively murderous. 

Danny swallowed, eyes just starting to widen.

Then Frostbite sighed. Again, compassionate eyes turned to the half ghost. “I vow Plasmius will never touch you again, not with the might of the Far Frozen standing beside you.” He shook his head. “Still, I am relieved you escaped.” A paw squeezed his shoulder. “The Divine delivered you to our paws and found you safety. I am much joyed to see you recovering.”

Danny’s heart squeezed, warmed by the words. The boy slumped, heaving a sigh. “I… thanks for taking care of me.” Still… his insides twisted, overwhelmed by it all. 

“It is my pleasure, Great One.” Frostbite beamed.

The boy grimaced. “Can you call me Danny? Please?”

“Danny, then.” The yeti nodded seriously.

The half ghost forced a smile. He really was grateful to Frostbite. He appreciated the comfort, but… 

The boy yawned, a sudden tiredness coming over him.

“Ah, I should leave you to rest.” The chief stood. “Press this button if you are in need of any assistance. Sleep well, Danny.”

“Thanks.” The half ghost nodded. 

With that, the yeti left. The door closed and Danny was alone. Soon, despite his anxiously twisting insides, sleep took him again.

[miapcain]

What sort of music taste would Vensa and the gang have? (Modern music, i should specify. I just want to see the gang wear modern outfits, after the cola question)

Hello! Thank you for the question. This one required a lot of thought but I think I have a list of albums each main character would recommend.

Vesna likes music she thinks is "cool" or "funny." She's not very discerning, and will probably enjoy anything you put on around her, unless it's "scary." Her music taste is overall maybe a bit teenaged, with the occasional more cerebral artist. Her favourite song is currently "Ein Kompliment" by Sportfreunde Stiller, which she thinks of as her "Girlfriend Song." Franzesca tolerates this.

Snježana has very particular taste. She likes a lot of shoegaze and dark metal adjacent stuff, and more experimental music in general, mixed in with occasional hip hop. She hates everything Vesna listens to, but is usually too polite to say so directly. Her favourite song is "Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshima," which she found because of Ljuba- a detail she has since conveniently forgotten.

Franzesca thinks she's discerning, but she's just passively absorbed the musical taste of her rich friends and immediate family. She wouldn't be able to name a Queen album because she only knows specific songs. She likes 80s bangers, Schlager and some music she remembers from being a teenager in, I guess, the 2010s. Her favourite song is a tie between She Wolf by David Guetta and Heroes by David Bowie.

Ljuba enjoys music more than any of the others, and knows exactly what she likes, even if she could never put it into words. As a gamer, she listens to as many anime and game soundtracks as 'proper' music. She wildly oscillates between complicated experimental prog rock and the stupidest electro swing you could imagine. She tries to play music she thinks Vesna might like for her, which is only occasionally successful. Snjezana quietly respects her diverse taste, and appreciates that Ljuba will listen to her shoegaze with an open mind. Franzesca hates most of Ljuba's music, except for Ethel Cain, which she says "sounds nice." Her favourite song is either this cover of the Madoka Magika opening, or this cover of People II: The Reckoning by AJJ.

I hope this answers your question!