#melodic magazine

[ladycharles]

Lady Charles shines through with versatile new single “Child of the Night” | // MELODIC Magazine

Amazing feature by Melodic Mag! It's so cool to get support from awesome music blogs - I don't even remember saying some of the stuff quoted in here, gotta love neurodivergence + c19 brain fog 🤣😭

Here's the song if you missed it 💖

[hollywoodxboulevard]

Dark City 053 2009 - Children Of Bodom

[avomagazine]

Sable Hills to perform at Wacken Open Air for the second time in two years. More in our article.

[darkmoongodess]

Scuttlebutt Reactor

I am working on developing my Digital Rag Magazine. Focus: Music, Fashion & Pop Culture.

Audience: Same as Dark Star Radio (DSR).

Colors NEON GREEN/BLACK. (SAME AS DSR)

Spotify Lists of Top 10 Band Submissions of All Time Top 10 Band Submissions in Industrial Top 10 Bands Submissions in Metal Top 10 Bands Submissions Goth& Alt Rock

ALL SUBMISSIONS WERE MADE TO DSR!

BLURB for Bands, Brands, Venues That fit with our BRAND. (FEES APPLY) ALT FASHION: ENBY, GOTH, EDGY TRENDS ECT... BLURBS for Brands, Small Creators, etc.. (FEES APPLY)

Will be doing 1-2 Pages on Second life Underground Music Scene, Fashion Etc.. Movie/TV/Animation Reviews

& Likely other topics. But this is the plan.

[dustedmagazine]

Bog-Shed — The Official Bog-Set (Melodic)

The Official Bog-Set by Bog Shed

Bog-Shed sounded like electroshock therapy. The 1980s post-punk band jittered and flailed, its bass ramped to rattling speed, its singer prone to starting yelps and squeals, its lyrics surreal and fanciful, if slightly disturbing. Resolutely DIY—the mid-1980s were early days for self-releasing—Bog-Shed nonetheless attracted a modicum of critical attention. They did five Peel Sessions. Their song, “Run to the Temple” figured on the now legendary C86 compilation.

The Official Bog-Set collects essentially everything this band ever recorded, from a six-song set of demos mailed off to John Robb’s Vinyl Drip label that became Let Them Eat Bog Shed, to the two proper albums Step On It (source of that “Run to the Temple” song) and Brutal, to an expanded version of the Peel Sessions compilation Tried & Tested Public Speaker, originally six tracks now a full 20 of them. A fifth disc, titled Who Scoffed the Trill, compiles 22 previously unreleased live tracks and rarities. It is quite a lot of Bog-Shed.

The band emerged in the early 1980s around the core of Mike Bryson (bass) and Mark McQuaid (guitar), two childhood friends who met up with singer Phil Hartley while a school in Leeds. It took longer to find a drummer, but they settled on Tris King. Bog-Shed seems to have hit on its taunting, boxy, jerk-rhythmed sound almost immediately. The earliest cuts, from Let Them Eat Bog-Shed, already skitter with psychotic glee. “Panties please!” howls Hartley in the first cut, a shriek that cuts through clanking cacaphonies of bass and drums. “Fat Lad Exam Failure” grinds and cavorts, guitar stabbing, bass grumbling, drums bashing, the chanted lyrics prancing showily over top.

John Robb of the Membranes, whose Vinyl Drip label would release the first Bog-Shed album, describes his first encounter with the music in the liner notes, writing, “This wonderful racket came out. That clattering, grinding melodic bass, quirky guitar lines, frantic impatient drumming and a genius squawking vocal that was like no other delivering these strange lyrics that were like postcards from some beyond the fringe hill town full of strange characters and observations.”

Let Them Eat Bog-Shed came out in 1985. Step On It (1986) and Brutal (1987) followed in rapid succession. These two LPs were basically self-released on the band’s on Shellfish label. Step On It is less raw and more focused than the debut; cuts like “Mechanical Nun” explode in bursts with a machine-like precision. “Run to the Temple,” the song that made the C86 comp, is sharp but buoyant. Its guitars sting hard enough to leave a mark, but there’s something playful in the bounding beat. Brutal sounds even cleaner—Bog-Shed clearly learned a lot about recording in a brief period—but equally mad. It raves unabashedly, but in hi-def. “Excellent Girl” writhes with corrosive bass, plunges at galloping speed, “hoo-hahs” with phlegmy enthusiasm, but never veers into chaos.

John Peel was an aficionado, inviting them onto his show once in 1985 and twice each in 1986 and 1987. A previous version of Tried & Tested Public Speaker presented the two 1986 sessions, but the box set includes the remaining three. Highlights from the new material include an incendiary and previously unavailable version of “Six to One and Likely” from October 1987, as well as a ferocious rendition of “Oily Stack” from November 1985.

Who Scoffed the Trill offers more previously unheard material in 22 live, alternate and unreleased cuts. A live version of “Necktie Murder Shopping Trolleys” is particularly unhinged. “Proper Music” is anything but. There’s a lot of buzz and echo in the live cuts, even so, you can hear the crazy, idiosyncratic energy of this wired and weird outfit.

Bog-Shed disbanded in 1987, and three of the four principals have now passed away. The Official Bog-Set documents their madcap rattle and yelp in all its singular glory. Always oddball, now nearly unimaginable, Bog-Shed lives on.

Jennifer Kelly

[tojisun]

!! suggestive (and mini smut) - minors dni; bimbo (fem)!reader has simon wrapped around her pinky (we luv to see it!); the squad’s here too; hinted age difference (30s v. 20s)

when they ask him where you two met, simon always tries his best to tamp down the smile threatening to grace his lips before clearing his throat and answering, "in the ER."

the questions that follow are always repetitive: 'what, why?', 'what happened?', 'how did things even go from there?' the last one is often paraphrased into some other versions, but the sentiment remains – people always get surprised, reduced into awkward stumbling because how could you even segue into a romantic relationship from having met in the ER?

well, simon thinks, it's actually quite fucking simple.

it was three in the morning and simon was in the lobby, waiting to be called in, when he saw you walk in: you clutched your broken heeled shoes in your hands, your beautiful legs were bearing injuries and cuts, and your hair was a wild mess. then, you ambled towards a baffled triage nurse.

"hi!" simon recalls your melodic voice echo, sounding too hyper even when you looked all banged up. "can i use y'r restroom? we got kicked outta the club."

simon was so focused on you that he didn't even notice the pack of girls following behind you, all of them looking just as haggard and bruised up. one of your friends was actually worryingly injured, so it’s no shock when the nurse rushed towards her, slightly panicked and confused before steering your friend away, leaving you there in the lobby.

then, you turned around, frowning at having been ignored, and it gave simon the best vantage point of finally seeing your face. he swears his heart stuttered in his chest, his lungs constricting, because holy shit, you are beautiful.

"then the rest is history," simon ends, pulling you close to him. any closer and you would have ended on his lap – something he preferred, anyway – but johnny continues to stare at the two of you with a slack jaw, his eyes almost bulging out in confusion so simon tries to keep it civil.

you giggle, and simon watches as the rest of the squad snap their eyes on you, as though expecting you to grace them with a better explanation. but simon knows that you probably don't even know what's going on, having been busy tapping away on your phone, your acrylics making distinct clacks as they hit the screen.

"i love the history channel," you singsong, batting your eyelashes as you give them a dimpled smile. "simmy-" simon almost coos at the nickname you gave him, "and i looove watching the penguins."

simon presses a kiss on the top of your head, ignoring the bewildered looks his squad is shooting him.

"that's the 'animal planet', love. not the history channel," simon corrects gently, rubbing his hand down your side.

"oh!" you say, unbothered by your mistake. "okay!"

and that was that.

"what the fuck," simon hears johnny wheeze out only to up making choking noises when kyle elbows him. simon ignores them, choosing to watch as you turn back to your phone, mass-retweeting a series of post made by the magazine catalogue that you've been following.

cute.

---------

"fuck," simon hisses, feeling the sharp edge of the kitchen knife slicing through the first layer of his skin. he watches the blood bead, trickling down his finger, and simon wipes it before it can stain the pristine green – "sage!" you tutted to him once – countertops.

"si?" you ask, padding towards the kitchen at the clamour. he feels you press yourself to his side, your perky tits nuzzling his robust muscles. "what's goin- y'r bleeding!"

he grunts, frowning at himself for having made you worry. he moves to reassure you that he's okay, but you're already tugging him out of the kitchen, your smaller hand wrapped around his thicker wrist.

god, he loves seeing the size difference.

you're wearing his military shirt, the material sliding down your body beautifully, before pooling just above your perky ass. simon unabashedly stares at the way your ass jiggles – hidden underneath the tiniest booty shorts he knows you own – his throat bone dry and his sweats filling up all of a sudden.

he barely realizes that you two are in the bathroom until you're steering him towards the edge of the bathtub before twisting to fish the emergency kit from the floor cabinets. simon almost groans at the perfect shape that your ass makes when you bend over, feeling himself throb with raging desire.

you pull out a pink emergency kit and skitter towards him again, slotting yourself between his spread legs. simon raises his hand – the uninjured one – to grasp at your waist, sliding it down to your hips, before giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"it's nothin' fatal, sweet'art," simon mumbles, thumbing your hipbone as he tries to comfort you.

you're still pouting at him when you say, "sure, i guess. but lemme help you?"

and who is simon to say no to that?

"of course, love."

he lets out a quiet chuckle when you press your glossed lips on his forehead, unbothered even when your lips leave a sticky stamp on his skin.

he watches you disinfect his wound with a strawberry-scented sanitizer before wrapping a pink adhesive bandage around it. his worries about having his open wound disinfected by a glittery sanitizer fade away when you picked his hand up to place a kiss on his now-bandaged finger.

glitter-induced infections no longer matter. not when simon's getting nursed to full health by such a pretty girl.

he licks the back of his teeth, clenching his jaw, and thinks, you deserve a reward, don't you, sweetness?

---------

johnny blanches when he sees the bandage around simon's finger. "LT, what in fuck's name is that?"

his loud voice snags the attention of garrick and their captain who ambled their way towards him upon hearing the commotion. garrick chokes on nothing when he sees the pink bandage that simon's sporting.

"bandage," simon replies, pride heavy in his voice. "from my girl."

johnny whirls and shoots a pointed look towards kyle and john. kyle is the one who breaks the silence.

"…are they safe for use?"

"what's the cat even bandaging?" johnny adds.

simon huffs, flicking his finger up to give the squad a better view. "firstly, this is 'hello kitty'. secondly, you questionin' my girl’s ability to care for me?"

john coughs, looking away, kyle arches a brow at him like the answer should be obvious, and johnny gulps loudly, before mumbling, "...yes."

simon sniffs, unable to blame them. "yeah, well, don't."

the squad is still quiet. waiting.

simon finally gives in and replies, "i checked. they're safe for use."

he rolls his eyes at their dramatic sigh.

"that's good to hear," john says before clapping his hands together once, urging them to disperse.

simon grumbles all the way back to his room.

---------

simon loves his pretty, dumb girlfriend to death.

he loves seeing you dolled up – skimpy dresses made of silk material paired with heels that could honestly stab someone to death. he also loves seeing you in nothing but his ratty jumpers – loose black sweaters stopping just after your crotch and the sleeves falling past your fingers.

but nothing tops seeing you naked and crying for him.

nothing could ever top this – your legs folded close to your chest, your ankles hooked on his shoulders, your pretty make up running as tears trickle from the corners of your eyes and flood your cheeks.

he thrusts his fingers in your cunt again, breathless when it punches out another slick gush of your squirt, drenching you two even more. you squeal, body locking, your hips lifting from the bed. simon has to press down on your belly to keep you stable.

"siii!" you cry out, thrashing on his hold, but simon just kisses your leg as he continues to fuck his fingers in you.

"shh," simon murmurs, feeling so choked up at the sight you make. "one more for me, yeah?"

you moan out a reply, a garbled mixture of 'yes' and his name, before wrapping your hands around his arms, your acrylics digging into his skin. simon doesn't even register the pain, still too caught up at fingering you to feel the way you're clawing him.

still too caught up at how perfect you are for him.

(later, when he checks the mirror and sees the angry red welts, simon purrs at the sight of them. because simon loves being marked by you, doesn't matter how, as long as he has bearings of your pleasure. pleasure he gave you.)

---------

simon receives a video message from you. it’s nothing long or conspicuous, but simon still chokes when he finally gets to watch it.

because in the video, you’re wearing simon’s old varsity shirt on top of your university cheer uniform.

“look!” you chirp, twirling for him. “found this in the closet!”

simon slams his captain’s door open and demands a vacation leave.

---------

the lieutenant has a new tattoo and johnny doesn't know what the actual shit it's supposed to be.

it looks like a wriggly blob of a... cloud? a cotton ball? candy floss?

it was still a somewhat fresh tattoo so simon never truly shows it off – johnny doesn't even know if it's worthy of being shown off – until one night at a bar, simon rolls up the sleeves of his jumper and leans to the squad to point at the blob.

"lookit," he slurs, tipsy and just a touch giddy.

finally, johnny cheers to himself before reaching forward to poke just beside the scribble.

"what's it?"

"mittens," their lieutenant croons, smiling down at his skin like a weirdo.

johnny has seen enough mittens to know that whatever that fucking squiggle is isn't mittens.

"uhm," kyle says, thankfully thinking along the same lines as johnny. "is it?"

"yeah," simon says wistfully, drunken in a lovesick way. "s'my girl's cat. she drew it f'r me."

oh. well, fuck. now that's just too cute.

wait.

"that's a drawing of a cat?" johnny rasps out, choking on his spit before turning to study the tattoo again.

it's still a fucking blob.

christ.

[its-avalon-08]

Can I request something where Reader is with Lando and she actually more famo then him and he feels like she could do better then him. But reader reassures him that he is the best boyfriend she has ever had.

he's just ken (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - a little angst, tears, A LOT OF fluff

The soft glow of the city lights filled the room, casting a gentle glow over the sleek furniture and large windows overlooking Monaco’s glittering skyline. Lando Norris sat on the edge of the bed, his hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. His girlfriend, Y/N, was getting ready in the adjoining bathroom, her melodic hums filling the space.

Y/N was more than just Lando’s girlfriend. She was a globally renowned actress, her face gracing billboards and magazines across the world. Her fame was astronomical, dwarfing even the recognition Lando received as a Formula 1 driver. And lately, this disparity had started to gnaw at him.

Lando sat in his hotel room, scrolling through his phone. He was used to seeing news articles and interviews featuring Y/N; she was one of the most famous actresses in the world. But today, as he absentmindedly browsed through his social media feed, a headline caught his attention: "Y/N Asked About Her Relationship with Lando Norris."

Curiosity piqued, he clicked on the video. It was an interview she had done recently, her radiant smile lighting up the screen. He watched as the interviewer, a man with a smug expression, leaned forward.

"So, Y/N," the interviewer began, his tone dripping with condescension, "you’re one of the biggest stars on the planet. You’ve got legions of fans, countless awards, and a career most people can only dream of. Why are you dating Lando Norris? I mean, he's just a race car driver. Don’t you think you could do better?"

Lando's heart sank. The interviewer’s words echoed in his mind, each one a stab at his already fragile confidence. He couldn’t bear to hear her response, too afraid that she might hesitate or, worse, agree. His thumb hovered over the screen, and with a heavy heart, he closed the video, the reporter’s sneer still haunting him.

He tossed his phone onto the bed, running a hand through his hair. The doubt that had been festering in the back of his mind surged forward. He loved Y/N more than anything, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t good enough for her. She was a superstar, adored by millions, and he was just Lando—a guy who drove fast cars and occasionally made it to the podium.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, the reporter's words playing on a loop in his mind. By the time Y/N returned to the hotel room, Lando was sitting on the edge of the bed, lost in his thoughts.

“Hey, babe!” Y/N called out as she walked in, her face lighting up when she saw him. “I’ve missed you.”

Lando tried to muster a smile, but it felt forced. “Hey.”

Y/N’s smile faded as she sensed his mood. She crossed the room and sat beside him. “What’s wrong?”

He hesitated, not wanting to burden her with his insecurities. “Nothing, just a rough day.”

She frowned, concern etching her features. “Talk to me, Lando. What’s really going on?”

Lando took a deep breath, his eyes meeting hers. “Nothing baby, I love you."

She could sense the tension in his posture, the way his shoulders were hunched slightly forward. "Baby tell me the truth." she asked softly, crossing the room to sit beside him.

Lando glanced at her, a forced smile tugging at his lips. “Nothing, just thinking.”

Y/N took his hand, her thumb gently rubbing circles on his skin. “Thinking about what?”

He hesitated, his eyes dropping to their intertwined hands. “About us,” he finally admitted. “About you and me.”

Her brow furrowed in concern. “What about us?”

Lando took a deep breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “Sometimes I wonder if you could do better than me.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “What? Why would you think that?”

Lando looked away, the weight of his insecurities pressing down on him. “You’re… you’re Y/N. Everyone knows you. You’re this incredible actress, and I’m just a guy who drives cars really fast. People adore you. They look up to you. And I feel like… like I’m not enough for you.”

Y/N’s heart ached at his words. She gently cupped his face, turning him to look at her. “Lando, listen to me. You are more than enough. You’re kind, funny, and so incredibly talented. Do you know how proud I am to be with you? How much I love you?”

He swallowed hard, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “But people—”

“I don’t care what people think,” she interrupted, her voice firm but filled with love. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Fame, awards, none of that matters without you. You make me happy. You make me feel loved and cherished. I don’t need anyone else because I have you.”

Lando’s expression softened, the vulnerability in his eyes breaking her heart. “But what if—”

“No what-ifs,” she said, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “You are my person, Lando. My heart chose you, not anyone else. And I wouldn’t trade what we have for anything in the world.”

He took a shaky breath, her words slowly melting away his insecurities. “You really mean that?”

“With all my heart,” she whispered, her forehead resting against his. “I love you, Lando Norris. And nothing, no amount of fame or success, will ever change that.”

Lando’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her close as he buried his face in her hair. “I love you too,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for always being there, for believing in me.”

Y/N smiled, her hand gently stroking his back. “Always, Lando. I’m here for you, always.”

As they sat there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, Lando felt a sense of peace wash over him. In that moment, he realized that Y/N’s love was more valuable than any trophy or accolade. She was his anchor, his home. And with her by his side, he knew he could face anything the world threw at them.

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Chthonic - Takao 2011

Chthonic is a Taiwanese heavy metal band, formed in 1995 in Taipei. The group incorporates influences from traditional Taiwanese music, including adaptations of folk songs and the use of traditional instruments, most notably the erhu (often called the hiân-á in the band's native Taiwanese Hokkien). Their stated goal is to use their music to bring ancient history and mythology into the modern era especially to build awareness of the myths of Taiwan and tragic events in that country's history. Since 2011 their trademark erhu has been complemented with stringed instruments including the koto and shamisen, as well as Tibetan Bells and shakuhachi and Seediq hunting flutes, the last of which are traditionally used by the indigenous people of Taiwan.

Takasago Army is Chthonic's sixth studio album, released in 2011. The title is a reference to the Takasago Volunteers in the Imperial Japanese Army, recruited from the Taiwanese aboriginal tribes during World War II. Takasago is an ancient Japanese name for Taiwan. This album serves as the final record in Chthonic's "Souls Reposed" Trilogy. Takasago Army reached number 109 on Japan's Oricon music chart, and the video for the song "Takao" was nominated for the 2012 Golden Melody Award in Taiwan for best music video. The album was named the year's best melodic black metal album by the critics' webzine Metal Storm, and French music critics' site Boulevard Brutal selected Takasago Army as the best black metal album of the year. The Japanese rock magazine Burrn!! awarded the band a number 7 rank for best album of the year and number 23 for best heavy metal band.

"Takao" received a total of 54,3% yes votes.

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Can’t Help Falling In Love - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: -> When your newborn daughter can't sleep one night, Bradley knows just what to do.

A/N: Here’s a little blurb I did for @ohtobeleah’s Galentine’s Day challenge 🩷 This song is one that I sang/sing to my own baby, so I felt really inspired to just write some wholesome fluff with Bradley as a new dad singing it to his baby, and his wife 🩷

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x fem! reader

warnings/content: sickly sweet fluff with Bradley as a new dad and being romantic.

word count: 1k

“Shall I stay, would it be a sin, if I can’t help falling in love with you?”

You padded down the hallway to where the sound of your husband’s soft, melodic voice was echoing from. You entered your infant daughter’s room and smiled softly as you saw Bradley cradling baby Sawyer in his arms, humming softly to her as he kissed her head. You stood in the doorway, leaning against the wooden frame as you looked on, Bradley none the wiser as you watched him comfort your baby.

“Take my hand, take my whole life too, for I can’t help falling in love with you.”

Bradley shut his eyes delicately as he held Sawyer’s tiny body close to his chest, continuing to hum the notes of his favorite Elvis song in a soft, hushed tone as he rocked back and forth in an effort to lull his sweet girl to sleep. Bradley turned towards the door and opened his eyes to see you. His expression softened, melting into a sweet, content smile, his amber coloured eyes gazing at you from behind his thick, dark eyelashes that you’d always been envious of.

“Hi honey, sorry, Sawyer didn’t wanna go down, was just tryin’ to sing her to sleep. My mom used to sing this to me when I was a kid, she always swore it worked. Guess my dad used to sing it too,” Bradley huffed a soft, melancholic sigh as he thought back to his own father and how he had so little to remember him by, having passed just a month after Bradley turned two.

“It was sweet, I love hearing you sing,” you murmured quietly as you cozied up to Bradley’s side, smiling softly while you pressed your lips against his cheek in a tender, loving kiss.

“I think Sawyer likes hearing me too, she settled right down while I was singing to her.”

“That’s because you’re soothing her. She loves you and loves the sound of your voice, feeling you hold her close, it makes her feel safe.”

“It does?”

“Mhmm, you bet it does.”

Bradley smiled proudly as he glanced over at you, still hugging Sawyer close to his bare chest. Stroking her back gently, he pressed his lips to her forehead once again, gently kissing her as she snored softly. His pajama pants hung low on his waist, his toned, tan skin dotted with freckles. He never slept with a t-shirt on to begin with, but the minute he read that letting a newborn sleep on your bare chest was beneficial to the baby, he started to forgo wearing one at home at all. He dove all in, head first, the moment he found out you were pregnant, determined to be the kind of father his dad would be proud of, the kind of father his dad would have been if he’d had a chance to do it for more than two years.

Baby and parenting books had begun appearing throughout your home shortly after you’d told him, multiplying slowly, one by one as they began to collect on the shelf, magazines about raising children suddenly coming in the form of subscriptions to your door on a monthly basis. Bradley had begun coming home from a day of training, spouting off new ideas for names, suggesting whatever he heard or came across that day. He was as involved as anyone could hope for, his determination to be someone who made you proud, made his baby proud, and would have made his parents proud serving as a driving force to motivate him. On one occasion, you came home from spending a day out in the city to find every piece of nursery furniture perfectly assembled, waiting for your direction as to where you wanted it placed. As nervous as Bradley was about making you proud, there was never a single doubt in your mind about it - he was meant to be an excellent father, just like he was meant to be an excellent pilot. It was just who he was.

Bradley gently laid Sawyer down to sleep in her crib, smiling down at her as she stirred for a second, holding his breath as he hoped she stayed sleeping. As she continued to snore softly, he exhaled, relieved she was still sound asleep. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling your body in close to his as you both watched Sawyer in complete awe, almost unable to believe something so small and sweet could have come from either of you.

“Now, Mrs. Bradshaw, we’ve forgotten something important about today,” he whispered softly, stroking your hair as he tucked it behind your ear, his touch delicate and gentle.

“Hmm?”

“Valentine’s Day. We forgot it. I didn’t even remember to bring flowers home for you.”

“We did? Are you sure?”

“Positive. February 14th.”

You stifled a laugh as you shook your head, smiling at Bradley as he showed you today’s date on his phone screen. He kissed your forehead gently, his lips hovering for a moment as he hummed.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“There’s no need. Sawyer’s a pretty great Valentine’s Day gift.”

“She’s two months old, hun, I don’t think you having our baby counts as your gift.”

“Sure she does. You just gave her to me a little early.”

“More like you gave her to me. I didn’t do much.”

You extended your hand out to stroke Bradley’s cheek fondly, beaming as your eyes met his.

“You gave me her. Without you, I wouldn’t have Sawyer. And I wouldn’t have a loving, wonderful husband either. And, I wouldn’t get to hear you sing all the time.”

“Oh, you like the singing?” Bradley smirked, playfully whispering as he led you out of the room, pulling the door closed quietly behind you.

“I do, in fact.”

“Well then, honey—“ Bradley began before taking a breath and beginning to sing once more.

“Wise men say, ‘only fools rush in’, but I can’t help, falling in love with you.”

[chapel-of-ritual]

Credit: Britt Mae for Melodic Magazine

[dreamescapeswriting]

Melodic Rivalry ~ KNJ

WORD COUNT: 3.5K

GENRE: Enemies to lovers, implied sexual interaction, surprise pregnancy, hiding pregnancy trope, angst, soft ending [Didn't include smut as it's an anon and I don't know your age, so it's implied that they have sex xx]

PAIRING: Namjoon x Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - March 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

You stared down at the magazine with a disgusted look on your face, a photo of you and Namjoon on the cover with giant smiles on your faces as you sat together but the shot wasn't real. The two of you could never sit still long enough for a photo to be taken so the magazine had to photoshop the two of you together to fit the story that they had written and published.

All about how you and Namjoon were the perfect team, both of you had undeniable talent and worked well together in the studio. Namjoon was a musician with the knack of composing soul-stringing melodies, his talent knew no bounds and his music had the oer to move even the most stoic of souls. You were a producer with an unparalleled ear for sound, with the ability to transform raw talent into polished masterpieces and despite working well together in the music industry that was where everything stopped.

The two of you were like oil and water - constantly at odds with each other. Your egos clashed, your opinions collided, and your tempers flared at the slightest provocation. Working together was fraught with tension, each session devolving into a battle of wills and creative differences but each time the music came out brilliantly. 

As you got to the studio door you pushed it open and found it dimly lit, the only light coming from a soft glow of a mixing console. Namjoon sat at his piano, his fingers dancing across the keys getting lost in whatever he was composing so you stood at the soundboard, your arms folded across your chest as you stared at him. He was supposed to be working on something more upbeat, not another love ballad he was no doubt writing.

"Oh, how touching. Another one of your generic love ballads, I presume?" You asked sarcastically, ignoring the glare that Namjoon shot your way, his jaw tight as he stared down at the keys.

"If you have something to say, Yn, say it. Otherwise, keep your critiques to yourself." He said through gritted teeth.

"Typical. Can't handle a little criticism, can you?" You rolled your eyes at him.

"Criticism? All you do is tear down everything I create! You have no respect for my talent!"

"Respect? Please. You're the one who waltzes in here with your inflated ego and expects everyone to bow down to you."

The tension in the room was thick with unresolved animosity but you stared at one another, your eyes twitching.

"For someone who claims to hate my music so much, you spend a lot of time listening to it." You stared at him, shaking your head and scoffing a little. Of course, you listened to it, you had to because it was your job.

"That's because it's my job, you arrogant prick!" You cried out, your anger way past your boiling point now but Namjoon just stood up and took a step closer to you, his gaze burning with intensity.

"Is that the only reason?" He asked softly, your breath caught in your throat, your resolve weakening with each passing moment.

"Of course not." You whispered, your voice barely coming out. Your eyes locked, a silent understanding passing between you. And in that moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of you in the quiet sanctuary of the studio.

Without a word, Namjoon closed the distance between you, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. And then, in a rush of pent-up emotion, your lips met in a searing kiss—a collision of desire and frustration that sent shockwaves through you both.

For a moment, you were lost in each other, your bickering and resentment fading into the background as you surrendered to the undeniable chemistry that had always lingered between you.

But as quickly as it had begun, the moment passed, leaving you breathless and uncertain. You stepped away from him, your fingertips gently touching your lips as you stared at him.

"We shouldn't have done that." Your voice trembled a little as you looked up at Namjoon, his eyes were blazing.

"Why not? We both know there's something between us." He stares down at you.

"This... this is madness. We can't stand each other." You whimpered, shaking your head at him, Namjoon stepped closer to you though, his voice dropping as he stared down at you,

"Maybe that's because we're so alike. Two stubborn souls fighting against the inevitable." You determined to hate him, to push him away from you crumbled, your walls tumbling down in the face of Namjoon's unwavering honesty.

"We can't even stand to look at one another." You mumbled at him, it was true. The two of you could barely go ten minutes without a fight breaking out. The kiss had been a one-off, the passion and sparks you'd felt were nothing more than a static shock or something.

"Stop fighting it, are you scared?" He smirked at you and you hated him for it. You wanted to wipe that smug look off his face,

"No," You scoffed at him, rolling your eyes as you tried to ignore the way your heart was thumping for him, the way your palms were sweating. 

"Everyone knows we should be together, we should just embrace it," Namjoon smirked, your eyes meeting as you bit down on your lip. You had your reservations, the two of you bickered like an old married couple and you weren't sure it was healthy.

"Stop overthinking it," He whined before your lips met once more, the tentative kiss turning quickly into a fiery passion neither of you could deny. Your arms wrapped around the back of his neck as finally that pent-up tension and longer erupted into a raw and unbridled kiss. 

"I've wanted to do that for so long." Namjoon rushed out, his voice husky as you worked on unbuttoning the shirt he was wearing,

"Me too." You breathed out, kissing him deeply as he carefully took you over to the sofa, both of your clothes being strewn around the room as the kiss between you heated up once again.

Ever since that night in the studio with Namjoon, you did everything within your power to avoid him, you started working from home, switching to another group to work with not being able to face him but today had been inevitable, you had to go into work because of a meeting with Hannah, your manager and also one of your best friends.

The two of you had shared one night of unbelievable passion but when you woke up the next morning he was gone, his clothes were gone and there was a note on his desk asking you to lock up when you were dressed. Since there you'd not even received a text asking how you were, or even a call and you hated him more for it.

I've wanted this for so long.

Had been such bullshit, something he was saying just so that he could get laid, anger bubbled inside of you until you snapped the pencil you were holding.

"You okay? You look unwell," Hannah said as she gently rubbed your back, you were feeling a little under the weather but you put it down to the fact that you were going to have to face Namjoon sometime soon.

"Just a little queasy, that's all." You said with a forced smile, trying to brush it off but Hannah narrowed her eyes at you and exchanged a look with John, one of your other work friends.

"You've been feeling off for a while now, maybe take some holiday days." He suggested with a furrowed brow. It wasn't like you to get sick which was a little concerning for all of them.

"Yeah, maybe you're right." You muttered weakly, slowly standing up from the desk as your stomach churned with anxiety and a sinking feeling settling in the pit of your stomach.

"Yn?" Hannah called out but you sat back down in the chair, your bin between your legs as you threw up the contents of your stomach again.

"Here, drink this," John said as he slid you over a glass of water, Hannah was running to her desk and rummaging through it all.

"Hans? What are you looking for?" You mumbled, wiping your mouth with a tissue and staring at her as she walked back over to you.

She was the only person other than you and Namjoon that knew what happened in that studio 6 weeks ago and John frowned at the blue box.

"Take it," She told you plainly, John sent her a puzzled look with confusion written across his face.

"I...I can't...It'll make it all real," You'd had your suspicions that it was true but you figured if you ignored it long enough and denied it then it couldn't be real.

"Take it, we'll be here for you, no matter what," Hannah told you as John nodded, helping you stand up as they all walked you toward the women's toilets.

Those three minutes you were supposed to wait for the test felt like three hours, each second ticking by tortuously slowly as you, John and Hannah stared around the small office waiting for it to tell you the truth.

"Time," John said as his watch began to beep, your hand linked with Hannah's and you stared down at the pink stick, tears brimming inside of your eyes.

"I'm pregnant." Your voice trembled and instantly you were engulfed in a hug from your two favourite people.

"Work from home until we figure something out," Hannah told you, running her hands over your cheeks and wiping away the tears.

It had been almost five months since discovering you were pregnant and you'd done everything you could to hide it from Namjoon. If he had done everything to get you to leave him alone after your night together then you weren't going to tell him about the kid but the weight of hiding it was crushing you. 

You paced around your office, a mix of fear and uncertainty raging inside of you as you waited for John to hurry back with the next stack of assignments you needed to work through. 

"Everything is there, I'm sorry I promise next time I'll bring them to you. I'm just swamped." John said as he gave you a bag, you nodded quickly kissing his cheek and making a dart out of the door. You needed to get out of the building before anyone could spot you and the news got back to Namjoon.

Lost in your thoughts as you walked through the halls, you nearly collided with someone as you rounded a corner. You slowly looked up and whimpered finding Jungkook standing there,

"Hey! Sorry! Are you alright?" He frowned staring at you,

"You look like you've seen a ghost." He laughed nervously but you just shook your head at him,

"I'm fine, just a bit...distracted." You said with a forced smile but Jungkook's browns knotted together as he slowly looked down at you, his eyes lingering on your swollen belly/

"Is everything okay? You look like you're about to pop.." He laughed softly and your heart raced, panic bubbling up inside of you as you struggled to come up with an explanation. Jungkook had seen you those seven months back coming out of Namjoon's studio with a freshly "fucked" look on your face.

"Yeah, everything's good. Just...tired, that's all." You said hesitantly, smiling weakly as he stared down at you.

"It's his...right?" He waited for you to say something but you didn't even want to admit it to yourself, admitting it to Namjoon's bandmember was going to be damn near impossible,

"Jungkook." You pleaded, shaking your head at him as if asking him to stop all of this.

"Yn, is it his?" You stared at him, your stomach churning with anxiety as you tried to think of something to say but your mind was racing at a million words a second. 

"Please, Jungkook, you can't tell Namjoon. He can't know about the baby." Jungkook's eyes widened in surprise as he stared at you. Everyone knew how badly Namjoon wanted to be a father and hiding something like this from him would no doubt kill him.

"Why didn't you tell him? He has a right to know." He didn't mean for it to come out as harsh as it did, he knew you were pregnant and in a delicate place right now but Namjoon deserved to know he was going to have a kid.

"He lost that right when he made it clear that night meant nothing to him like he claimed it did." You grumbled, pulling your coat over to cover your bump to make sure no one else was likely to see you.

"Yn," Jungkook said slowly but you held your hand up,

"Don't make excuses for him Jungkook. He fucking used me." Your voice trembled as tears welled up in your eyes, the weight of everything finally causing you to crack.

"You can't hide this from him forever. He has a right to know."

"Just let me figure things out first." You mumbled, begging him as he stared down at you.

"Fine." He stared at you as you nodded, slowly walking away from him as you felt an impending doom hanging over you, threatening to shatter everything you'd built to protect yourself. 

After you left Jungkook stood outside of Namjoon's studio, his heart heavy with the weight of the truth he was about to reveal. As much as he wanted to keep your secret he didn't want to do that to his friend and he knew there was more to the story than Namjoon ignoring you after a night together. 

"Joonie, we need to talk." He said as he walked into the studio, Namjoon frowned at him but nodded for the youngest member to sit down.

"What's up?" He asked him slowly as Jungkook's throat tightened, his head muddled trying to find the right way to say it.

"It's about Yn." Namjoon's hand on his pen tightened,

"What about her?" He asked, animosity laced in his voice as he thought about you.

"She wanted to come crawling back to us? I don't want her working with us anymore." He grumbled out, Jungkook eyed him up as he stared at him wondering what had gone so terribly wrong between the two of you.

"She's not welcome here anymore."

"Why?" There was going to be no more dancing around the topic and not mentioning your name as if you were Voldemort.

"She knows what she did wrong." He hissed making Jungkook frown. It seemed the two of you believed the other was in the wrong.

"What did she do, Hyung?"

"She slept with me when she had a boyfriend waiting for her at home." Jungkook knew you were single, you'd devoted every single second of your life to music.

"Boyfriend? Noona doesn't have a boyfriend." 

"So who was John? He was texting her all night, asking where she was and when she was going to go back to him because he was waiting for her back home." None of that made sense,

"John is one of her co-workers, he works with TXT," Jungkook told him before realisation began to register with Namjoon who the man had been.

"So...W...What did you want to talk to me about?" Jungkook sighed a little.

"She's pregnant, Namjoon. Seven months along." Namjoon's world came to a crashing halt as he stared at him, his mind reeling in disbelief and confusion.

"How?" He asked shocked, Jungkook hesitated, his gaze filled with sympathy as he watched everything hit Namjoon.

"You know how." He said softly but Namjoon just stared at the floor. The truth hits him like a ton of bricks, everything falls into place. Your sudden avoidance, working from home and refusing to be their producer anymore. It was all making sense now.

"She's carrying my child," He whispered as Jungkook sighed a little.

"She asked me not to tell you but you needed to know," Namjoon nodded at him, barely acknowledging him as he slowly got up and made his way out of the studio.

Before he knew what was happening Namjoon was outside your place and knocking on the door. He knew it was going to be hard to talk to you about all of this since so much time had passed but it was time to face the truth.

"We have to talk." Namjoon said as soon as you opened the door to him, your chest aching with seeing him standing there. You knew Jungkook wouldn't have been able to keep his mouth shut so you'd been preparing for him.

"What about?" You stared at him as he took in a deep breath,

"About the baby," His eyes were filled with something you'd never seen from him before, he looked so vulnerable. 

"What about the baby?" You asked, stepping to the side and letting him into your apartment. 

"I want to be a part of their life, Yn. I want to be there for them, to watch them grow up, to be their father." Your breath caught in your throat at his words,

"Why? You practically kicked me out the night after we had sex so why all of a sudden do you care?"

"I thought you had a boyfriend! Okay? I saw a text from John and I thought-"

"That I was whoring myself out to everyone so you just decided to give me the cold shoulder?" You snapped angrily at him, you couldn't believe he would do something like this.

"You're the one hiding my child from me!" He grumbled at you and you sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose.

"This is why we can't do it together. We fight all the time, we just scream at each other." You mumbled, sitting down on the sofa and feeling completely defeated. 

"Yn."

"Can you look at me and tell me that when this baby comes it'll work out between us?" You didn't want to keep his kid from him but you also were scared of everything that was coming,

"No."

"So-"

"But I love you, okay? Fuck, I've loved you for so long and I just never show it right." You stared at him in complete shock.

"I love you and I love our baby. I may not have been ready to admit it before, but now...now I can't imagine life without you."

"But-" You barely had a chance to object before Namjoon continued.

"The last seven months without getting to see you have been torture. I miss the jabs you used to say, I miss seeing you...Please."

"We've both made mistakes, Yn. But that doesn't mean we can't try and make things right. For the sake of our child, and for the sake of our love." Tears built inside of your eyes as you struggled to process everything.

"I want to believe you, I do...but...But I'm scared. Scared of getting hurt, scared of losing you again." You finally admit, your tears free falling as you finally let yourself admit you loved him back, that you were hopelessly in love with him.

"I won't let that happen, Yn, I promise you. Just give me a chance to prove it to you and show you how much you mean to me."

"I love you too," You whispered to him, your heart racing as he smiled down at you.

"We can try." You told him as he hugged you close to him,

"Tell me everything I've missed? D-Do you have photos?" You nodded at him, slowly taking him through to your bedroom to get the album you'd already started making of your ultrasounds.

A soft glow filled the cosy living room as you and Namjoon sat together on the couch, your laughter mingling with the sound of your son's joyful giggles. It had been a year since that fateful night when Namjoon had shown up on your doorstep, and in that time, your lives had changed in ways you could have never imagined.

Your son toddled around the room with boundless energy, his chubby cheeks flushed with excitement as he chased after his favourite toy. Namjoon watched him with a smile, his heart swelling with pride at the sight of his little boy.

"Look at him go, babe. He's getting so big." He said with a giant grin on his face, you smiled as you stared at him, your eyes shining with love as she reached out to ruffle his hair.

"He's growing up so fast. I can't believe he's already a year old." You whined, you hated that it was going too quickly. You wanted him to stay young forever. 

"I'm so grateful for you, Yn. For him. For everything." Namjoon said as he kissed your head softly. Your heart swelled with emotion at his words, your eyes shining with unshed tears as you reached out to take his hand in yours.

"And I'm grateful for you, Namjoon. For giving us a second chance, for never giving up on us." Your voice shook a little and he kissed you softly.

In that moment, as you sat together in the warmth of your shared love, you knew that they had found something truly special—a love that had weathered the storms of doubt and uncertainty, emerging stronger and more resilient than ever before.

@chiisaiblog@sw33tnight@kaitieskidmore97@laylasbunbunny@tinyoonsblog@whitefoxgirl@katnisspeetaprim@acciocriativity@choisoorin@heyjiminnie@btsiguess-kpop@halesandy@gothic4under4lord@soulphoenix1618@aerastus@jin-from-the-block@lenfilms@elizaschuyler18@piratequeen-impact @Namgiswifey@delulu18@xyahrinx@katsukis1wife@anthropologymajorkpopmultistan@blairscott@4-chan-inpadella@swga-ficrecs@niktwazny303@armystay89@myyouthdonut@xakx@kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy@kpopmenace143@loveforred@b1nn1e-1s-cut3@elissasimp @royallyjjk @parkjennykim @piercedddriver

[jadedxhearts]

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐋𝐚𝐜𝐞

Law ends up falling asleep in his office, but is quickly waken up as he starts having a wet dream about you. Needing to get off, Law discovers you’ve left a pair of panties on his desk; the perfect thing to help aid him.

Warnings: afab reader, no pronouns, nsfw minors dni

Originally posted on Aug. 18th, 2023

repost from my main @jadedrrose as a part of my most popular fics event.

While it wasn’t strange for Law to be up late, it certainly was odd for him to fall asleep at his desk. He’d almost always avoid it, saying things about how it’s bad for his back.

Which is why you found it quite odd that he hadn’t come back to your room yet. You’d woken up for some water, only to find the other half of your bed cold and empty. 

Sighing, you stretched and drank some of the water on your nightstand, before deciding to go drag your boyfriend back to bed.

—

It’d only been about fifteen minutes.

The day was long and tiring, especially with the crew having routine medical exams all day. Law was exhausted, to say the least. He’d been reviewing papers at his desk when he felt his eyes become heavy. The last thing he’d managed to see before passing out was the clock, which read 12:16 am.

At 12:31, Law woke up. He found it odd he’d only slept for such a short amount of time. Normally he’d be passed out for a good hour before either he woke up and went to bed, or before you’d come and bring him back.

His body was heavy and tense. He felt hot and disheveled, despite only being asleep for not even half an hour. Yawning, Law realized there was a certain tightness constricting his body that could only mean one thing.

Glancing downward with a tired gaze, Law groaned and promptly rolled his gray eyes at the sight. He was hard. Extremely hard, enough that it was nearly painful as his length strained against his jeans. That’s when Law remembered…

He’d dreamt about you in those fifteen minutes that he’d fallen asleep. 

In the dream, Law entered his office, feeling upset over various things, just generally feeling annoyed and irritable. But of course, you could always make him feel better. 

You were sitting on his desk, bare body just barely illuminated underneath the dim candle lighting of the room. Your legs hung off the front of the desk, arms behind you as they held your body up. Your breasts seemed so round and full underneath the lighting, drawing Law’s attention to them before anything else. He licked his lips, wanting nothing more than to suck on them, feed off of you. 

But then your face stole the attention away. Your cheeks were flushed red, mouth hung open with drool spilling past your wet lips. Your eyes were halfway closed, lazily. There was a look on your face that seemed somewhere between desperate and fucked-out. 

You looked something straight out of one of those magazines with prostitute pirates in them. Something Law always turned his nose up to, having less than zero interest in. But now, he can’t help but think how good you’d look on one, displayed so prettily for everybody to see.

He approached you, placing a hand on your right thigh, squeezing the soft skin. “Need some help, y/n?”

“Please Law,” you begged, biting down on your lips. “It hurts so bad, need you in me now.”

He kissed you before looking over your body from a front angle now, his eyes landing on your swollen pussy. Your body would tense every other moment, your cunt slightly contracting as you squeezed the muscles in it, clenching on nothing. 

Law moved to kneel, burying his face into your sopping cunt after he took in a deep breath, inhaling your sweet lewd scent. 

But just as his tongue could squirm inside you with a loud, melodic moan leaving you, it was all over. 

Law panted, realizing he had to do something about the monstrosity in his pants right away. There was no way he could walk back to his room like this, and in his state of being blinded with lust, he entirely forgot to think of using his powers to teleport you into the office.

Law quickly tossed his shirt off, unzipping his jeans before throwing them open and freeing his aching cock. Wrapping one hand around the shaft, he let out a hiss from the contact. Shit, he was already feeling as though he could cum at any moment.

Then, in the back of his mind, Law recalled you coming in here last night and riding him while he sat at the desk. And how you’d left your panties in the corner of his desk.

Gray eyes searched his desk, finding the pair of black lace panties sitting just where you’d left them. Law, unable to control himself from the horniness, snatched the pair with his right hand, using his left to squeeze his length. It was so dirty, but Law didn’t quite care right now. He was so turned on by the idea that he didn’t even question doing it; Law brought the black panties up to his face, breathing in the sweet scent of your cunt lingering on them. 

As the smell hit his nose, Law’s hips bucked upward, and suddenly he was stroking his cock with fever, needing to cum as soon as possible. Taking in one last breath of your intoxicating scent, Law reluctantly let go of his cock, fisting the panties into his left hand as he wrapped them around his engorged, needy cock, now using them to jerk himself off. 

A moan escaped him, head falling forward as he rutted up into his hand, feeling the lace of your panties pleasantly rubbing against his reddened, swollen tip. 

“Fuck, y/n…” he breathed out, biting his lip and clenching his right hand as he kept rubbing his length. 

—

You’d expected Law to be completely passed out when you found him. However, what you ended up discovering was the last thing you expected from somebody like him.

With a careful hand, you quietly opened the metal door so as to not wake up your lover. But as soon as your head poked into the room, taking one step in, you could hear it.

Law’s voice sounded broken and weak, as he moaned and whimpered your name. You scanned the room before your eyes landed on where he sat, jeans around his ankles as he had a hand wrapped around his cock, some sort of fabric in the hand which held his member… but, were those-

Your panties? 

Law was using your panties to get off. 

Gasping, you quickly shut the door behind you before somebody walked by and walked into the scene, much like you had. Only, this is something that only you’d like to witness. 

Law seemed scared by the sudden noise, his entire body jumping as he turned his head to look at you. But, his hand never stopped moving. His mouth hung open, pathetic whines leaving his lips as he looked at you, pitifully. 

“Y/n,” he whined, dragging out the end of your name. “Baby, h-help.”

You approached Law, getting a better look at the sight before you. 

“This is what you’re doing? Instead of coming back to bed?”

“I fell asleep, a-nd… when I woke up, I was so hard,” he mumbled, a few gasps escaping him as his hips jerked and rutted upward.

“What do you want me to do?” You asked, pulling his hat off of his head to reveal messy, sweaty locks of black hair.

“J-just… undress, or something, I dunno…”

“Okay,” you smiled, placing a kiss onto Law’s forehead, before pulling your tank top over your shoulders, revealing your breasts to Law. As the shirt got pulled away, they bounced as they released from their hold. The sight caused Law to let out a loud, desperate moan.

Next was your pajama shorts, quickly followed by your panties. You figured Law needed more of a show to get off, so you hopped up onto his desk, spreading your legs for him to see your glistening cunt. 

You could feel yourself throbbing, knowing Law masturbating to you was turning you on way more than it should’ve. So as to not waste time, you licked two fingers, bringing your hand down to begin playing with your puffy pussy lips. 

Using the two fingers to spread your lips, Law got a good look at your hole, a groan leaving him as you clenched around nothing, much like you had in his dream.

Once you deemed yourself wet enough, you dove in, inserting one finger into your cunt. You whined, using your free hand to grope your breast, kneading at the plushy skin while pinching and pulling your nipple in between. 

Quickly, the room became filled with the lewdest noises you’d ever heard. Law’s desperate whimpers, the squelching of your wet pussy as you fingered yourself, combined with your’s and Law’s mixed moans, both of you coming undone at the sight of each other. 

With you now aiding him, Law was able to finish. But, the urge to finish in you took his body over, as he tossed the panties away, grabbed your hips with one hand and used the other to pull your hand out of your cunt, before shoving his aching cock into your wet hole. 

As soon as his length was buried in you, Law’s hot sticky cum spilled inside you, whimpers and cries escaping his mouth as he gripped your hips so harshly you knew there’d be marks later.

Feeling the seed filling you up, you began cumming too, body shaking as your hips jerked up to meet Law’s thrusts, pretty moans leaving your lips.

You both eventually calmed down, you collapsing backwards to lay flat on the desk, while Law fell forward to lay on top of you, his cock still deep inside you.

“F-fuck,” he cursed, burying his face into your neck.

You let out a light-hearted chuckle, beginning to run your fingers through his hair. “Should’ve just told me you needed help, baby,” you whispered, feeling Law’s exhausted body tremble against you. “Though, I did enjoy the show.”

“Y-you’re not mad I used your panties?” He asked, voice weak.

“Of course not,” you smiled, a cute giggle leaving you.

“Th-that’s… good to know.”

[cartermagazine]

Today In History

Marvin Gaye was a major force in twentieth century music—a singer of rare sensitivity, a versatile pianist, expert drummer, writer of startling originality and producer capable of seamlessly integrating a multitude of melodic strands. Beyond his great popularity, his impact on artists of his generations and generations to come is enormous.

Like no artist before or after, Gaye possessed an uncommon cool for combining the secular and spiritual. A man who lived much of his life at war with himself, music was his refuge, the place where he generated wondrous harmony.

Marvin Pentz Gay Jr. was born in Washing, D.C. on this date April 2, 1939.

CARTER™️ Magazine

[sabrinasopposite]

the end of the world

tom holland x reader ♡

two lovers that reached the end of the relationship.

she was sunshine and he was midnight rain

It was clear from the beginning that two lost souls would find their way in the Milky Way. It was evident that the pair of chocolate-brown eyes would be fixed on the girl's, whose eyes were filled with teardrops sparkling like stars.

Love seemed to dissipate from their presence, replaced by hurt and pain that gnawed at their insides instead of the butterflies that once fluttered around them on the nights they met. The birds ceased their songs on their favorite Saturdays, and their tea tasted as dull as their shared kisses.

Young love is often portrayed in movies as pure innocence, building upon their emotions and the desire to understand their hearts, but they rarely depict the harsh realities of the real world. In reality, it marked the end for them.

Their love is lost in the air, not be founded in their hearts that were stringed. 

Y/N always thought their love will be like Amy’s and Laurie’s, or like Elizabeth’s and Mr Darcy’s. An undeniable love that was stronger than their words. Yet, perhaps these were words she was too blinded to perceive, or maybe they were simply absent, unheard by her ears. 

Tom always believed that their love was pure, strong, and transcendent, beyond the reach of the stars. He struggled to find words to capture the intense emotions that surged within him whenever he laid eyes on the girl of his dreams, the embodiment of the perfect world he envisioned.

However, he gradually came to realize that this was merely a fantasy, detached from the reality in which he found himself trapped.

It was one of those rainy nights in London when the city's sparks were veiled by raindrops. Y/N always found herself reflected in the rain; she adored the scent it carried and the melodic patter it painted upon the earth. It was one of those nights when she would coax Tom outside onto the streets, where they'd listen to their favorite 60s playlist and dance in the rain—a silly cliché that they held dear to their hearts. 

However, tonight was the end of their world.

Their soaked clothes clung to their chilled bodies, as not only did the world darken around them and the raindrops fall heavier and heavier, but so too did their hearts. What was once a yellow world now turned blue.

"Why do you have to let me go, Y/N? I don’t understand!" Tom cried out, his words aimed at Y/N, whose eyes reflected the rain. "I know, and I will be forever grateful for everything you've given me," she replied. "But we'll only continue to hurt each other if we stay together." Y/N licked her lips, which once tasted like Tom's, but now bore the bitter tang of salt and regret.

"I would give up everything just to be with you. I-I'm sorry for my absence, but this new life—the acting career—it's all so overwhelming for me, and you know it.“ Tom’s eyes were shining of hope and desperate need of Y/N’s warmth.

Some things remained unchanged, but as soon as Tom became the golden boy of Hollywood, his life transitioned from its former purity into one illuminated by the spotlight. The stage was now his domain, his face adorning posters, TV/cinema screens, and magazines. He was everywhere.

Y/N remained grateful and supportive of his acting career, finally seeing him recognized as the talented young man who once dreamed of playing Billy Elliot or auditioning for Romeo multiple times.

He was now acknowledged by the world, although he had always been seen by her.

His world.

Yet, as with every fairy tale, not every story concludes with a happily ever after, where the princess and the prince marry. Just like Y/N and Tom..

He changed. He was still Tom Holland, but he wasn't the same Tom. Y/N saw it coming but chose to ignore the spotlight, waiting backstage for him. But he remained in the center of the stage, basking in the attention and affection of the crowd.

Y/N, once the midnight rain, found herself overshadowed by Tom's sunshine. But tonight, as their world comes to an end, their roles reverse.

"It's not that you're physically absent, Tom, here in London or beside me. It's that I can't seem to find you anymore. We're living in different worlds now, and there's no room for me in yours. I wish I could express this differently or see things from a different perspective, but..."

Her gaze met his, witnessing his tears mingling with the rain, his trembling not just from the cold, but from the pain. She knew that saying goodbye would only make it harder.

"Please, don't say that... Sweetheart, I can change. I'll change. I'll be the same person I was before, I promise!" His hands tightened around hers, afraid to let go.

"I will always love you, Tom, but I have to let you go. Not just for your sake, but for mine too. It's time for both of us to find our paths again."

She stepped closer, delicately brushing her hand against his cheek, her lips meeting his for the last time.

Perhaps not forever, but for now.

And as she walked away, Tom didn't realize it was the end of their world.

It ended when she whispered, "Goodbye."

this story is very much inspired by the song: the end of the world by skeeter davis.

I hope u like this angst! ♡

[callmelola111]

my summer of you ♡ part one

✄ - - - -   part 1 , part 2   - - - -   inspo track ⭑ till there was you

synopsis: being sent to your grandparents for the summer was supposed to be a punishment, but when you came face-to-face with your neighbor, you knew it’d be quite the opposite.

      | 𓆣 | pairing & wc: loser!ellie williams x neighbor!reader. wc: 4k

      | ❀ | cw (by part): 18+ themes (MDNI), modern au, fem reader, sexual themes but no smut (yet), mentions of religion, tense family relations, perv!ellie makes an appearance, mostly cute fluff moments with a tad bit of angst

a/n: i’ve literally wrote and rewrote so many different fic ideas, it actually was driving me insane. but finally here’s something i’m somewhat satisfied with. this will be a 2 part series so no crazy long wait, and ofc there will be smut. lollipop bit was definitely inspired by the movie hot summer nights except gay and no timothee chalamet jump scare. love you all dearly ♡~ lola

Your 2 vintage suitcases, bursting at the seams, fell to the sidewalk with a thud as you stood in front of your new home for the summer. It was an older house with light blue paneling on the sides, an expansive green lawn, and a wrap-around porch, all surrounded by a classic white picket fence.

Bolting out the front door was the most eager old woman you’d ever seen. Your sweet, sweet grandma. She wrapped you in the biggest embrace and the smell of old Chanel perfume and Jergens lotion overwhelmed your senses. The old woman continued crying out your name pestering you with 1,000 kisses. You erupted in a giggle, expressing the same sentiments of love.

The reason for your stay was less heartwarming. After you had wrapped up your first year at university, your overbearing and uber religious parents caught wind of some of the stuff you were up to while there. In their words, you were “impulsive”, “wreckless”, and “just plain stupid”. But in all actuality, you had just smoked some weed, got wasted, and hooked up with some girls.

Nothing too crazy considering it was your first year of freedom, but of course they flipped and decided banishing you to your grandparents for the summer would be best. And although you were less than ecstatic about them being angry with you, the resulting consequence left you anticipating the perfect summer. I mean come on… a gorgeous old house, right by the beach, home cooked meals, and no one to bother you. How could you not get excited? 

✄ - - - -   ♡   - - - -  

Soon, you find yourself strolling along hot sidewalks of the small beach town, wandering into every little place that piques your interest. The first was an antique mall. You ventured through the heaps of knick knacks, furniture, and clothes, finally landing on the sweetest tea cup. It was delicate ivory with a thinly curved handle. Painted on the front; a pair of kittens adorned in pink ribbon. You then stumbled into a 50’s themed sweets shop where you purchased a single cherry flavored lollipop which landed in your mouth as soon as you walked out the door. And finally, you came across a quaint bookshop that was practically begging for you to come inside. 

Pushing the old wooden door open you entered, followed by a small melodic bell announcing the new presence. This caught a young individual's attention. Revealing her collection of freckles and short auburn hair, the girl looked up from behind the mahogany counter to greet you. The employee's smile was adorably toothy and the evening sun leaking through the windows made her practically glow. Your eyes remained locked on the girl's face for a little longer than you’d like but it was worth every second. 

Candy in hand, you toured the towering shelves of tattered books and baskets of old magazines, not really knowing what you were looking for. And still considerably distracted by the dreamy woman manning the front desk. That is until a loud creak of the floorboards stole you from your reverie and left you face to face with the culprit of these thoughts.

“Hi- uh, did you need help finding anything today?” she questioned, giving you a slow look up and down.

“Hmm I’m not sure yet,” you took a long pause to regain a little sense of decorum, “Got any recommendations for me Ellie?” Her eyes went wide in confusion before you gestured to the silver plate pinned to her shirt, pointing out the obvious. “Your nametag hun.”

“Oh, right” she looked down sheepishly at the pet name, “Ummm let me think…” Her voice trailed off again and you popped the sticky, red lollipop back in your mouth to fidget with as she took a beat to think. After compiling a few books in her mind Ellie opened her mouth to speak but god was it hard. Your intent sucking had her in a trance.

“I think you-you’d probably- like…” Ellie wanted to keep talking, she really did, but your plump lips engulfing the red little ball was extremely distracting. She watched as your spit pooled at the upturned corners of your mouth and coated the hard candy. Every thought she had left her except what her lips would look like wrapped around something else. You took note as her pupils slowly dilated at the simple action and decided to have some fun with the awkward girl who you’d obviously left in a trance.

“Did you want a taste?” Ellie took some hard blinks in disbelief and some reproach, not realizing how conspicuous her stares must have been.

“Uh- like of your…” She pointed and you hummed in confirmation, holding the thin white stick at its base, hovering the candy just inches from her mouth. 

“Come onnn, I don’t bite… not unless you want me to.” Ellie’s quick and hot breaths of anticipation tickled the little hairs on your knuckles and you knew exactly what you were doing to her. Eventually she dove into your sweet offer. First with a flat tongue, then her whole mouth closing in on it. The crimson disappeared into her cavity and you twisted at the stick connected, sending an odd sensation across Ellie’s tongue. You quickly snatched it back out and plumpted it back in between your own red stained lips, leaving the girl a flustered mess.

“So what about that book?” you inquired, voice laced with a preformative innocence. 

She shook her head to focus, “Uh- right, how about The Bell Jar? Sylvia Plath?”

“That’s actually perfect. It’s been on my list for months now. Which shelf?”

“If you want… I uh, actually have a copy that you can borrow for free.”

“Actually yeah, I’d love that. Thank you.” You gave Ellie a warm smile that sent millions of butterflies through the pits of her stomach, and honestly yours too. She then disappeared to the back with a flash of her green eyes before returning holding a small book bursting with colored tabs.

“Here- I like to annotate,” she chuckled bashfully, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Even better.” Ellie blushed at every word you spoke, sending a nervous hand back to scratch at her neck. “Well, thank you for this. I do have to get home but um- I promise to return it as soon as I’m done.” You shook your clasped hands at her like a praise and departed leaving nothing but a trace of your luscious perfume.

Ellie remained awestruck, replaying that whole scenario back again and saving it for later. Selfishly she wished for you to finish the book in just one night. She couldn't help but miss your pretty face already. And after being the only thing on her mind for the rest of the night, she wasn’t sure how long she could wait to see you again. 

✄ - - - -   ♡   - - - -  

That evening after Ellie’s shift she retreated to her bedroom with plans to remove you from her thoughts. Controller in hand, she maneuvered through some first person shooter game but lost every round due to her lack of focus. This was frustrating and she went to light some incense hoping to clear her head with a different approach. The brown, bergamot scented stick caught fire before cherrying at the end leaving a trail of smoke behind. Ellie followed it with her eye’s, gaze passing by her window and quickly retreating back as she spotted something out of the ordinary.

The neighbor's familiar window positioned right across from her own was usually shrouded in curtains, hiding the empty bedroom. But today she could see right in, and even better, there was someone just behind the glass. She inched in closer to get a better look and watched as the girl lay on her bed, ass up, feet kicking in the air. Ellie assumed she was talking on the phone from observing her bouts of giggles, but it was hard to tell. Even harder to decipher was who this mystery woman was. Every little mannerism felt oddly familiar and it was driving Ellie crazy. Could you just get off the phone already and turn around?

Yes, you. Who eventually wrapped up the call with your best friend where you had spent 30 minutes gushing about the 5 minute interaction you had with Elllie. “I just have to have her!” you raved through the telephone line, “in fact, I neeeddd her!!” 

Night had completely fallen at this point and as so you rolled out of your lying position and peeled off your shirt to change into pjs. You did it right in front of the window too, unknowingly giving Ellie a show. 

Next door, the girl's jaw was slack and bottom lip red from her harsh bite. Ellie stared lustfully at your soft seeming skin and gorgeous curves. After getting a better glimpse of your face she knew exactly who you were. And once your top started coming off there was no chance she was looking away now. That is… until she got caught.

As soon as you saw a flash of freckles across the way you dashed to the window almost getting a rug burn from the maneuver. With tits out, (well in a sheer lace bra, so practically out) you slide open the white trimmed aperture and give Ellie the most eager wave, shouting her name along with it. The girl could barely pull herself together as she hesitantly opened up her own window. Was Ellie about to get exiled for being a perv or were you feeling forgiving tonight?

“Ellie?! What the fuck?? Didn’t think I’d be seeing you so soon!!” You shouted with excitement like a child on Christmas.

“Hi-” she halted her greeting, “wait, I don’t even know your name.”

“Oh, it’s ____”

“S’pretty name… I’m glad to see you again.” 

“Oh I bet you are. Saw you watching me change Els.” Really you didn’t mind, but something about teasing her got you off.

“Fuck- no, no. I- I wasn’t trying to, just was getting a better look to see if it was actually you. Please don’t be mad, I really am sorry!” You had left her a stuttering mess.

“No need to say sorry,” with a bat of your eyelashes you eased her worries, “you liked what you saw… right?” 

The girl squirmed, “Uhh…”

“It’s okay, you can say yes Ellie.” And she quickly did, making the cockiest smirk grow on your face. But, you weren’t an easy girl and you planned to tantalize Ellie with subtle passes until the both of you could hardly resist. So you quickly retreated, wishing Ellie a good night before sealing the window and swiping the curtains shut. 

The girl was left a hot mess after it all but trust and believe she had a good night. One with her hands between her thighs and your newly learned name falling from her lips.

✄ - - - -   ♡   - - - -  

The next morning you catch the emerald-eyed girl outside mowing her lawn and take this as the perfect opportunity to play some more mind games.

Slipping into the skimpiest bikini you could find, you scampered into the front yard “to tan”. The green lawn tickled the bottoms of your bare feet before you laid out a red and white striped towel to lounge on. Stomach down, facing towards Ellie, the sun beamed on the expanse of your back. Heart shaped sunglasses hugged your face and shielded your eyes as you admired the pretty girl.

She was dressed in some long cut-off jorts and a black wifebeater tank. A newly lit cigarette hung from her mouth carelessly. You loved the way her pec would flex with each push and pull of the mower. Lines of sweat racing down her arms and neck, illuminating every small vein. And god, when she tilted her head up to exhale a puff of smoke, it drove you wild. 

Your presence had not gone unnoticed though and neither had your cherry printed swim bottoms that were riding up your cheeks. Ellie continued mowing the lawn but was essentially butchering it, too busy staring at you out of her peripherals. She continued passing over the same barren spots of grass over and over, trying to get a better look of the angel laying just on the other side of the fence.

She’d pause mid push every time you’d reposition yourself just so she could see the little recoil of fat that was your plush thighs and heart shaped ass. Her cigarette had yet to leave her mouth after the first few exhales and your prompt arrival. A long build up of ash was begging to slip off the end and at this point she was just mowing little nubs. The yard was a patchy mess and so was she. This mess escalated as soon as she saw you marching to the edge of the fence straight towards her.

Approaching Ellie you planted your elbows on two white posts that stopped at your torso. You shouted out to the sweaty girl, waving her in your direction and she immediately scurried over like an obedient puppy.

“Whatcha smoking?” you questioned, causing Ellie to remember the all-ash cigarette, now between her fingers, being rid of its debris.

“Shit, I’m sorry- do you not like the smoke? I can stop, seriously.” She put out the remaining butt frantically in attempts at atonement.

“Lighten up Els, I don’t care if you smoke. I was just gonna ask to bum one off of you, but I only smoke Marlboros. That menthol shit gives me a headache.” She softened in relief, already pulling out a fresh one just for you.

“That’s crazy, I’m the same exact way. Here, it’s all yours” Ellie attempts to put the cigarette in your hand but you part your lips instead, requesting a different placement. She happily fulfills your request and follows with a silver, square shaped lighter. The flame catches at the end as you take a big inhale, blowing it to the side.

“Thanks, you have no idea how much I needed that. I’ve been cold turkey over here at Grams. Couldn’t even sneak a smoke from her either, she swears by Newports. Truly disgusting if you ask me.” You rolled your eyes, rambling on about your stay and Ellie just listened. She tried piecing together your story from the little tidbits you mentioned but still struggled to understand how you ended up here.

“So you’re just staying with your grandparents for the summer?”

“Yeah pretty much.” you answered nonchalantly.

“How come though? I’ve never seen you here until now. Trust me, I would’ve noticed a pretty girl like you.” she blushed.

“Oh yeah? You think I’m pretty?” you taunted, completely ignoring the question at hand. You weren’t sure how ready you were to spill those beans yet. Ellie gave off such an awkward loser vibe that left you questioning how much of you the girl could really handle. I mean, it seemed like you were already too much for your own parents and beginning to piss off the elders too. And speak of the devil, they arrived home just in time to steal you from Ellie’s company. 

“Babygirl, what are you doing bothering the neighbors?” your grandma called out, making you turn all hot and embarrassed in front of Ellie. Up until now you had managed to keep up the perfect cool girl vibe. The thought that Ellie might not be enjoying this as much as you perceived had never even crossed your mind. But now that it had, your confidence was knocked down a notch. 

“Grams-” You turned to excuse her politely but were cut off before you even got the chance.

“Is that a cigarette young lady?” 

“Umm.. yes…” you hesitated before swiftly putting it out on one of the wooden posts.

“Now where did you get a thing like that?” she prodded, arms crossed. Your eyes glanced over to Ellie but you decided to lie, knowing how your grandparents would react. You’d rather get into trouble than risk losing access to your new favorite girl.

“I swear it was just rolling around in one of the dresser drawers upstairs. I shouldn’t have taken it, but I did and I’m really really sorry. Please can we not mention this?” 

The old woman took a beat to consider your request, “Fine. But hand it over, I need a smoke, the ladies over at bingo this morning were driving me absolutely crazy.” You passed over the cigarette and thanked her and the heavens for sparing you. If your parents found out about any more wrong doings, you knew you’d be done for good, and deep down you believed that Grams had recognized the same threat.

Just over the fence, Ellie had witnessed the whole thing and was left even more intrigued. All this over a cigarette? Mention what to who? But just as she was exiled out of the conversation, Ellie was quickly brought back in.

“So hun, you seem pretty handy if I’m not mistaken.”

“Uh, yes ma’am I guess I am.” Ellie fidgeted, not sure where this conversation was going. Hoping not to get scorned by the wrath you had brought on from the whole cigarette debacle. 

“Well, we’ve got a couple of loose fence posts around the perimeter. I’ve been pleading with my husband to get it done but the old fart can hardly handle walking the block, let alone hard manual labor. You think you could help us out? I’ll give ya 50 bucks for it.” Ellie looked at your grandma, then you, and back to Grams again. 

“Sure, but I don’t need your money. I’ll happily do it free of charge.”

“Well mighty me, thank you very much!” your grandma elated, nudging at you to give thanks as well. You smiled at the girl and then mouthed a little sorry, feeling bad for wrapping her up in all of this. She waved you off, not thinking twice about her choice to help out. Anything to get closer to you, right?

 ✄ - - - -   ♡   - - - -  

That evening you stood in the kitchen, occasionally grabbing out a bowl or passing over an ingredient as your grandma fixed dinner. You sipped from a tall, clear glass of lemonade and looked through the window hoping to catch a glimpse of Ellie in action. 

Noticing your staring, Grams spoke up, “Why don’t you go bring the girl some lemonade to cool off, yeah? In fact, go on ahead and invite her to dinner since she refuses to be paid. Got to say thank you somehow.” Your heart skipped a beat imagining the beautiful girl sat at the dining table.

It was almost scary, every interaction you’d had so far was just casual flirts in passing. This would be the real deal and on top of it, your grandparents would be right there with you. Very, very scary. But there was no arguing this one, so out you went with an endearing proposal and a freshly poured glass of lemonade, all for Ellie.

“Here, I got this for you. It’s homemade.” You ushered the cup forwards to sweaty Ellie and she gratefully accepted with a thank you. You then awkwardly popped the question.

“Sooo… my grandparents want me to invite you over for dinner. As a thank you.” Ellie looked up from her work again trying to read your tone.

“Do you want me over for dinner?”

“Yeah, yeah of course I do. It’s just, you know how it is with family.” You kicked at some dirt that was loosened by the yard work, voiding Ellie’s gaze. It’s not like you didn’t want to see her but how could you trust your grandparents to keep up the mystery. Flirting felt so easy when all the vulnerable parts of yourself had yet to surface.

“I don’t have to come if you don’t want me to. I’d hate to cause any problems.” You quickly backpedaled, afraid she might take your words the wrong way. 

“No, no, not at all. Please. Come. I want you there.”

“Okay, then I will be. Let me finish up out here, take a quick shower, and I’ll be over.” 

✄ - - - -   ♡   - - - -  

Ellie had taken 30 minutes to come back, making it just in time. 20 of those minutes were spent just rummaging through clothes and messing with her hair, too nervous to think about punctuality. She wanted to look good for you, and even more she wanted to impress your family. 

At Ellie’s arrival you opened the door dressed in the shortest little sundress. The pale yellow complimented your skin just perfectly and Ellie wanted to tell you so bad but nerves got the best of her. All she could do was smile and turn 5 different shades of red, matching the rust colored Dickie’s and loose button up shirt that adorned her figure.

“Well, well, well… don’t you clean up nice?” You poked at Ellie’s right arm and she humored you with a shy laugh before putting her head down to shield from embarrassment. Ellie had always been somewhat of a loser but never had she ever met a girl that could leave her this much of a mess with just a few words. 

You then led her into the dining room, both of you taking a seat across from Gram and Gramps at the other end of the table. 

“We’re so happy we could have you over for supper Ellie. I know we don’t mingle much but your father and you have always been such good neighbors.” Your grandpa gushed as Grams nodded along but there was a slight lull before Ellie actually responded. Maybe the mention of her dad? You weren’t sure.

“Well, thank you for having me. It’s always nice to have some company around here.” There was something regretful in her eyes as she said it but the conversation quickly progressed past the moment, leaving you curious for the rest of the night. 

“So how’s school been going for you?” the pair asked.

“It’s been really good. Going into my second year actually.” Ellie answered, putting it simply as she knew this was all formalities and small talk. Even you were beginning to get a little bored with the dry conversation. So you decided to spice things up for the both of you, sliding off your strappy sandals to see how far you could take a game of footsies. 

“Oh wow! ____ is too! What’s your major?” Gramps continued. Your bare foot slid over to Ellie’s beat up sneakers waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. 

“I’m an en-” Her voice cut out as you creeped up the edge of her pants, rubbing on her exposed ankle. She coughed trying to recover, “I’m an engineering major.” You had to bite the inside of your cheek to not let out an audible laugh.

“How wonderful!” Grams enthused, blissfully unaware. Having too much fun, you then slid your hand a chair over to drag down Ellie’s thigh and felt as she tensed up.

The conversation continued at a steady pace and you removed your hand, not wanting to take things too far. Unexpectedly Ellie grabbed it, moving your limb back to its place and keeping her own hand rested on top. A big move considering just minutes ago she couldn’t even muster up the courage to compliment your dress.

You took this as permission to proceed and a simple resting hand turned to a grabby one, gripping at her inner thigh. Teasing the girl to incomparable lengths. She eventually followed in suit, slipping a few fingers under the hem of your dress just slightly before shying away at the dinner's conclusion. And even with such little touch, you were still absolutely soaking.

If only your grandparents knew what was going on under the table.

✄ - - - -   part 2   - - - -   masterlist   - - - -   ♡

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