#sorry this took a few days to answer i was collecting media!!!!!
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you mentioned you were indie sleaze, can you talk more about that scene from the 2000's? i want to get into the scene but don't really know where to start and i don't trust tiktok lol.
omg of course. so to preface this i wanna say that there is a natural emo to indie pipeline that existed from around 2006-2008 and i was fully a part of that pipeline. there's a lot of crossover especially as emo evolved into scene and as scene evolved into party scene into indie sleaze. musicians like shiny toy guns, dev, cobra starship, amanda blank, hyper crush, etc were all like natural transitional bands that held little emo hands as they transitioned into indie sleaze. for instance, does he look familiar? well, he's the dear boy from sugar we're going down.
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indie sleaze was a mixture of nihilism and hedonism, a general mindset of nothing fucking matters let's destroy ourselves and fucking party. it was like this huge embrace of self-destruction and effacement, but also like a huge embrace for being young and saying fuck it and partying your face off. it glorified the unpolished, ripped stockings and hazy drunk eyes, hair plastered across your face with sweat, smudged makeup, looking like you've made out with everyone in your path and you probably have. it was body paint and underground hipsters and red bull chasers and ketamine bumps and perfect cocktails of pills. it was a bunch of jaded young people rejecting 9-5's and blending the party culture of raves with the rock and roll underground of sleazy clubs in nyc. there's a good documentary on this that follows some of the most notable bands in the nyc scene called "meet me in the bathroom" and it's available on showtime right now. they were the "new" club kid. there was a notable genre exchange, it was super eclectic sonically, ranging from techno and electronica to twangy bass riffs and dirty guitars to more folksy or preppy sounds (you'll see more prep aesthetics leak in particularly towards the latter half as indie sleaze evolved into millennial indie in the late 2000's and early 2010's, like vampire weekend, metronomy, two door cinema club, and chester french). aesthetically, flash photography became huge, rejecting the gloss of the mainstream. decade clashing was huge, drawing inspo from 70's vintage athletic wear, sleek 60's mod, 80's punk, vintage shopping was huge, neon and bright colors and american apparel basics, ironic t-shirts were huge, actually irony laid into the aesthetics and sound HEAVY, because irony indicated you didn't care but you were still fun.
photographers like the cobra snake super well documented the scene and all its most notable scenesters, and misshapes would throw these massive celebrity scattered parties with all the who's-who of musicians. they're two really good places to look into what and who and why and how. you might also want to look into kitsune maison compilations, urban outfitters playlists via the web archive, and ed banger records. soundtracks for shows like gossip girl, skins, and misfits were literally soooooooo influential to me as well.
perhaps the prime examples of what the scene looked like and what parties looked like:
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and here are some of my personal favorite indie sleaze mvs that i feel really encapsulate sort of the aesthetics and the draw:
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not an official video but literally so influential, my friends and i would pregame to this edit of babel so often its literally embedded in my bloodstream:
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here's some gems you might not find in any research:
my favorite musicians at the time were mgmt, metronomy, css, crystal castles, uffie, lcd soundsystem, yeah yeah yeahs, young love, the rapture, hot chip, girls, electric six, bloc party, bright eyes, the virgins, the teenagers, peaches, friendly fires, gorillaz, the xx, franz ferdinand, neon indian and kenna. i do actually have a musical archive @sleazeandscum where i just post songs every once in awhile from the time period. i hope this helps and ty for this question lol it was literally SUCH a formative period in my life and also the beginning of my time as a blogger.
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A few general statements for the fandom:
Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.
And yes this applies to personal or private information you may obtain or theorize about any of the players involved. Just because you obtained it “publicly” doesn’t mean it should be shared for the whole of the fandom. Ask yourself if this was being shared about you, would you want everyone that knows you discussing it? If not, keep it to a 4-5 person group chat.
Stop villainizing Nic and Luke for not performing on your perceived timeline.
Nicola is only 38 - she’s not in a “mid life crisis” and if I hear that one more time I’m gonna pull my hair out. Luke is not a “fuckboy” because he had one HBS and dated a younger woman for a short period of his life. Just because “guys like Luke” wouldn’t date you doesn’t mean he couldn’t love Nicola. And for real, WTF does “guys like Luke” mean? Just say that you’re projection fat phobia on Nicola when she’s not even “fat.”
Follow up - Nic and Luke are not distancing themselves from Bridgerton or from each other.
Most of y’all became fans during the WT so you were so used to constant content 24/7 and unfortunately that’s over. Luke and especially Nicola are also more high profile now compared to previous seasons. BTS posting on social media is gonna be different. It has nothing to do with their thoughts toward the show or each other. They’ve both commented multiple times how much they love Bridgerton. And they’ve both commented how much they love each other. Stop creating drama just because you need a dopamine fix.
Another follow up - social media is not real life.
Y’all I don’t know them personally but I PROMISE you that Luke reached out to Nic personally and wished her happy birthday. (Hell depending on where you fall on the theory spectrum, he was the one with her at her birthday dinner and took the picture.) I will tell you that my birthday is January 8th, the day before Nic, and I had to two Instagram story posts wishing me happy birthday. TWO. And I promise you I have a lot of friends. But you know what? All of my close friends texted or called me that day and gave me personalized greetings that weren’t for the whole world to see. And - GASP - this includes friends who have posted for me multiple past years in a row. So yes, even pattern breaking doesn’t mean anything. It’s been a week so please stop dwelling on this. And if you are still upset then I have a question for you - does it equally bother you that none of the Bridgertons publicly wished Will Tilston a Happy 18th Birthday? If not, please reevaluate the reasons behind your expectations.
Stop the public bullying and ostracizing.
The public hate needs to stop. Everyone is always accusing “shippers” of being the reason why N&L seem closed off but my opinion is that if anyone in the fandom is influencing their behavior, it’s the people continuously spewing hate. I will admit I’ve been guilty of throwing down against some of the more toxic creators in this space but I’ve always felt like I was “giving a voice to the voiceless.” What we need to do is stop attacking other creators because their opinions are different than us. And yes, I’m bringing this back to “opinion” because as I said the other day - nobody knows “fact” no matter how “obvious” you think it may be. You think Antonia and Jake are their significant others? Great. You think Nic and Luke are together? Great. Until the day that there is ever a definitive answer directly from the teams of Nic or Luke, everyone is on equal playing ground. I’m sorry if that bothers you but it’s true.
Side note to all of this: if a creator is saying stuff that makes you uncomfortable just know that when you make a post complaining about it, you were in fact perpetuating that information that makes you uncomfortable and only making the visibility larger. Just keep this in mind.
And with that, I’ll take my leave for now. Let’s all take a collective deep breath and remember that these are two real people with real lives and we’re only seeing what they choose to show us. Maybe it’s time we all pick up some extra hobbies. Start playing online games with your group chat. Fun some other methods of injecting fun in your day. It’ll make the time go by and you won’t be driving yourself crazy over this fandom. Keep your heads up y’all and just keep moving forward - it’s not that serious y’all. 💛
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Her || Charles
Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff Story type: novel Part: 20/? Word count: 2858 Co writer: @mistrose23
Story summary: Matilde Jørgensen, the new Scuderia Ferrari team principal, faced the nerve-wracking challenge of reviving the team's fortunes and aiming for a championship. Leading a historic team as a 'newbie' and separating her work and personal opinions posed a significant challenge. The big question: is she capable to do so?
Previous chapter
Chapter 18. Statement
"Buongiorno," Charles greeted his colleagues when he entered the engineer's truck. His eyes scanned the people who had already sat on their spots. He missed one person, but she must be getting some tea or coffee.
His colleagues greeted him back. Charles sat down in his designated spot next to Matilde, who usually would sit at the head of the long table. It would give her an overview of the team. Charles noticed how her seat was untouched, her notebook and laptop weren't there, just like the tangerine she always ate every morning. It had only happened once that she was late and that was on her first day. It became normal to arrive and see Matilde already sitting there. She was the first to arrive and the last to leave.
Carlos entered the room. "Sorry for being late. There are so many fans out there," he apologised. He sat down across from Charles. He looked at Matilde's spot. "Where's Matilde?" He was surprised.
"Late," an engineer replied.
"Oh. Weird."
Even though the meeting had to begin when Carlos entered the room, people were still busy with preparations. Some didn't mind having a few extra minutes, but it was unusual.
Ten minutes had passed the designated starting time and Matilde was still nowhere to be seen. Members started to exchange puzzled glances. Even if Matildle was a minute late, she would tell someone about it. Her being ten minutes late already, was not right.
"Did someone try to call Matilde yet?" one of the engineers finally suggested.
"I already tried. No answer," someone else answered.
"And Galileo? Did someone try to contact him?"
"Shouldn't we just begin? We need to get this done before we run out of time."
"No, let's just wait for a bit longer. She must be on her way," another voice chimed in, hope lingering in the words.
"I texted Galileo," someone else mentioned.
Just seconds after that, Galileo and Silvia entered the room. Their presence alone was enough to signal that something was amiss. The usual smiles were absent, replaced by expressions of concern. They were never at a briefing like this.
"Can I get everyone's attention, please," Galileo's voice cut through the room, making sure everyone stopped with whatever they were doing. He took a moment to survey the room. "As you have noticed, we are missing the team principal today. Matilde will not be present today, tomorrow, and Sunday," he announced, causing eyebrows to raise in collective surprise. She had never missed one day of work.
A murmur of questions and confusion rippled through the room. Carlos, unable to contain his worry, spoke up first. "What? Why? What happened?"
"We are only allowed to share with the team that Matilde is hospitalised for a personal reason," Galileo responded somberly.
More questions were being asked about the situation.
"Her family has kindly requested that we not contact Matilde until she reaches out to us herself. We will not have a replacement for this weekend, so we must do it together."
Silvia nodded in agreement, her usual vibrant energy subdued. "We will publish a statement in a moment, written by Matilde's family. Charles and Carlos, when talking to the media or someone else who asks about it, you will say she will not be here at the track until further explanation. There will probably get some fuzz around it, let them be, but don't say anything about the hospital. Galileo and I are informed about the situation, but the media doesn't have to know it yet. They asked not to share it because they are still waiting on some results and do not want to share it yet. But do know that she is fine and not in a life-threatening situation. It is a private matter and for you, a team matter. For your further information, Christian Horner and Toto Wolff were there when it happened, but they have also been requested not to share anything with anyone. For now, that is all we know and all we can share. When we get an update, you will be the first to know about it. For questions about it, you know where to find me."
A sense of collective shock settled over the room, the usual camaraderie replaced by an atmosphere of uncertainty. The team members were left with more questions than answers, their concern for Matilde was palpable.
"May I ask why Matilde's family is in control of all the communications? Just curious to know..." one team member ventured, voicing the questions that echoed in the minds of many.
Silvia exchanged a glance with Galileo before responding. "Matilde's family is handling the situation because they value their privacy, and we respect that. Matilde's brother is a press officer and will be dealing with this for now. Let's focus on the tasks at hand and wish Matilde a swift recovery. Updates will follow when we have them."
"We do have a card, so if you would like to write something down, please, do it," Galileo mentioned and gave a massive 'Get Well Soon' card to Charles.
"Can it be stress?" Charles worriedly asked. He knew he had created a lot of fuzz and stress last week. He was worried this could be his fault.
"That's something we cannot share, Charles," Silvia weakly smiled.
He silently gasped for air; he had caused this. Fear flickered in his eyes. "Okay," Charles mumbled and opened the card. As he grabbed a pen, his mind became blank. He stared at the empty card, processing the situation.
The room fell into a contemplative silence, the weight of the unknown casting a shadow over what should have been a routine morning briefing. The Silverstone weekend had begun under a cloud of uncertainty, and the Scuderia Ferrari team found themselves navigating uncharted territory without their leader.
- press statement -
Official Statement from the Family of Matilde Jørgensen and Scuderia Ferrari
Dear Scuderia Ferrari and Formula 1 Fans,
We want to inform you that Matilde has been admitted to the hospital for a medical concern that requires some attention. We want to assure everyone that she is currently stable and receiving the necessary medical care. We understand the desire for more details, but we kindly request your understanding and respect for our family's privacy during this sensitive time.
At this time, Matilde needs some space for rest and recovery. Consequently, she will not be present for the upcoming weekend, and we appreciate your understanding regarding her absence. The medical team is taking good care of her, and we are hopeful for a swift and smooth recovery.
As always, we are grateful for Matilde's support and love from the Ferrari family, the Formula 1 community, and fans worldwide. We kindly request respect for our privacy during this period and will keep you updated as necessary.
Thank you for your understanding and warm wishes.
Sincerely,
The Jørgensen Family and Scuderia Ferrari
* * *
It didn't stay unnoticed that there was one team principal missing during the Friday at Silverstone. The news travelled fast through the paddock and beyond. As the morning unfolded, whispers of concern reverberated through the media centre, press rooms and social media platforms. The press release from the family and team confirmed some of the rumours, and photos and videos that were taken last evening - a few fans spotted the rushing ambulance leaving the paddock in the evening, causing so many rumours - but it was Matilde who was taken to the hospital.
Reports were exchanging speculative theories about Matilde's sudden absence. Twitter and other social media channels became flooded with questions and speculation because the statement provided minimal details. It confirmed her hospitalisation, but left the reason shrouded in mystery. Fans and media were craving information about the young team principal. The lack of information became a breeding ground for rumours and speculation.
The week began with all its focus on the huge sporting event in the weekend, but it quickly shifted to the missing and hospitalised team principal.
The whispers and speculations reached a crescendo when fans began piecing together the timeline of events. Fans witnessed the fallout back in Spielberg last weekend, could that be a reason for the absence? The realisation that Matilde was taken from the track to the hospital stirred a wave of anxiety among the Ferrari faithful. Concerned messages flooded the team's social media accounts, asking for updates and offering words of support.
The team was just as affected as the fans were. The first free practice was full of mistakes, especially by Charles. He was distracted and that was noticeable; messy mistakes in the corners, delayed reactions and the times were off. He blamed himself for Matilde's absence and it weighed heavily on his shoulders. He had been a pain in the arse to her, he gave her a hard time. What if he went too far?
Throughout the entire day, he kept reading the speculations on social media. He didn't know what kind of impact it had on the fans, but it was probably caused by the not-saying-much press release.
Tweets:
"MATILDE IS HOSPITALISED??? WHAT HAPPENED TO HER???"
"Just heard a theory about Matilde's absence at Silverstone - some say it might be stress-related burnout. Hoping for her speedy recovery!!!"
"Heard some dark whispers about Matilde leaving due to internal team clashes. It might be the reason why Matilde collapsed during the team principal's meeting. Hope it's just wild speculation!"
"Ferrari is no good to their team principles. Maybe Matilde collapsed due to all the fights within the team. Everyone does what they want to do in the team. What is going on?!"
Nobody in the team was aware of a sudden departure, but to Charles, it kinda wouldn't be a surprise after the way everyone treated her, including him. Gossip travelled fast through the paddock and over the internet, just like wild theories.
However, the day continued and Charles still had to see the media after the free practices.
"Charles, tough day out there on the track. Can you walk us through your day and the challenges you faced?" F1TV asked.
"Yeah, it was a bit of a tricky one today. We struggled a bit with the balance of the car during the first practice. We were trying some new setups, and it didn't go as smoothly as we hoped." Charles honestly replied and looked around while talking, he never looked the interviewer in the eyes during the interview. "The car felt a bit unpredictable, especially through the high-speed corners. But we have collected enough data, so we will work on it."
The interviewer nodded. "We saw during the second practice that you improved some runs. It seemed like you had it under control."
"Yes, we made some adjustments and it did feel better, but we're still not where we want to be," Charles replied. He was glad the man was only asking about the practices. It felt like he finally could answer properly and think about something else. "We are working hard to analyse the data and find some solutions for tomorrow, for qualifying, and of course, for Sunday." He showed a brief, but promising smile.
"The world is all thinking of Matilde's absence, did it have any impact on the team's performances today?"
Cheered too soon. "Well, it's certainly a bit different not having Matilde around. We all miss her, and I think it's been a bit of a challenge for everyone."
"Fans are speculating about Matilde's situation. Some say it's a reaction to your clash last week in Spielberg, that it caused her to be overstressed and perhaps even burnout. We've seen quite some moments that didn't go smoothly between her and the team. Do you have anything to say to that?"
Charles took a deep breath, recollecting his thoughts. "Uh... I wish I could provide more information, but honestly, I don't have my details. Matilde's family and the team have asked for privacy, and we respect that. All I can say is that we're sending our best wishes her way, and we hope to have her back with us soon," he replied. It was a scripted response, he had to learn that from Silvia and so far, it worked well. "But," he said before the reporter would ask his next question. Charles wanted to share that they made it up. He didn't have the chance to say it to anyone. "About the situation in Spielberg, we talked about it, and we're fine. I also spoke to Carlos and Max, we're all fine now. It was an unfortunate moment, and I'm not proud of it, but we have to look ahead of us, not behind us."
"Thank you for sharing this, Charles. We wish Matilde the best, and we hope to see her soon again."
"Thank you," Charles nodded and returned to the Ferrari hospitality.
"You didn't have to say the last part," the press officer mentioned.
"I wanted to."
The entire team made themselves ready for the debrief again. The engineers were already sharing some points with each other, others were enjoying an espresso, and some people were scrolling through special media.
"Guys," one of the engineers said. "There's a tweet going around that Matilde collapsed due to an addiction issue."
Silence fell in the room, and looks were shared. It was like someone pressed the pause button, no one was moving or saying anything.
"I heard a reporter say that the hospitalisation is linked to high blood pressure due to an unconfirmed pregnancy," someone else added.
Charles sat down on his chair, he was lost in the sea of rumours, the uncertainty gnawing at him.
One of the engineers noticed the unease in the room and took charge. "Alright, people, let's focus. For whatever reason Matilde is hospitalised, it still doesn't change the fact that we will support her. Whatever is circulating out there, is just speculation. We will hear from her once she is ready. But we have a job to do, and that's what we'll do now."
Everyone shifted their attention back to the technical details, the debriefing starting, but Charles remained distracted. The rumours circulating about Matilde's conduction were like a storm in his mind, each one more unsettling than the last. As the debrief continued, Charles had ups and downs regarding his concentration. When he needed to be focused, he was focused, but when it wasn't about him, his mind drifted away.
Luckily for Charles, the debrief came to an end quickly. He had to find Max, perhaps he knew something more about Matilde. He walked to the Red Bull's hospitality like he had one goal and one goal only.
"What are you doing here?" Max confusedly asked, he was walking around with his dinner, trying to find a spot to eat.
"Matilde... Do you know if she's okay?"
Max glanced around, making sure no one was in earshot. He signed to Charles that he could enter the cafeteria. They sat down in the corner of the area, where they had some privacy. "I don't have all the details, mate. But from what I've heard, it's serious enough that they're keeping it all under wraps. Toto and Christian were there when it happened, but even they are tight-lipped."
"But you are close to her..."
"I tried to call her, but her brother picked up the phone, not giving much information."
Charles felt a lump in his throat. "What do you think happened?"
"No idea. But you know Matilde, she's tough. She'll pull through."
Charles nodded, trying to hide the worry etched on his face. "But all those rumours," he breathed. "Stress, burnout, depression, clashes in the team. Maybe I'm the cause, maybe I pushed her to the limit and now she collapsed because I am a dickhead. And the rumours about an addiction, or unconfirmed pregnancy. I even heard that she had a miscarriage because of the stress I give her." He looked and sounded hopeless, a side Max hadn't seen of him yet.
"Don't blame yourself for things you don't know," Max replied.
"I just can't shake off this feeling that I could've done something differently."
"We all have those moments. But right now, she needs our support. If there's anything you can do, it's to stay focused on the race, keep the team together, and give her the strength she needs when she comes back."
Charles looked at Max, making eye contact, his eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and distress. "I hope she comes back."
"She will." Max observed Charles' body language. Charles had a hard time hiding his emotions, and the situation was taking a personal toll on him. Max could see that Charles genuinely cared about Matilde, and the worry for her well-being weighed heavily on his shoulders. It was a stupid thought, but perhaps that was the reason why Charles couldn't get along with Matilde.
"You care about her, don't you?" Max asked, his tone gentle.
Charles sighed, not attempting to mask his emotions. "Yeah, I do," he whispered, running his hand through his hair. "More than I probably should, given our position. She's my team principal. The entire team is, was, shocked, but they can handle it. I...I just can't stop thinking about the things I've done to her."
"She'll be fine. And none of this is your fault."
Next chapter
Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc
#charles leclerc#f1#formula 1#ferrari#carlos sainz#carlos sainz jr#max verstappen#kevin magnussen#fanfic#motorsports#formula one#charles leclerc x oc#fluff#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fluff#scuderia ferrari#Charles Leclerc fanfic#Charles Leclerc fanfiction#formula 1 fanfic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#formula 1 fanfiction#f1 fic#charles leclerc imagine
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Salvation pt.4 - The Finale
Sorry it's taken a little while! Here's the finale 😊
This also answers the prompt from @tegan8314 who wanted Roy & "I never meant to fall in love with you, I just did." 😘 Thank you!
Full Masterlist
Roy Kent Masterlist
Salvation: CH1 | CH2 | CH3
You deal with the aftermath of telling Roy... - smutty smut in this chapter 🔥
~~~~~
The weight that was lifted from you felt even greater than the weight of the payments you spent eighteen months making. The lightness when you’d made the final payment was nothing compared to the lightness you felt that afternoon. When you’d met up with Sammy and Rebecca, they were making plans with Keeley on who to interview and when. You greeted Sam with a smile and a warmth he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen from you.
“Could we interview Roy towards the end please? He’s just mentioned some… work stuff he could do with sorting out first.” He heard the fib as he stepped out into the corridor next to you. Rebecca looked up at him,
“I thought I said I needed you free for the day?”
“It’s my fault, I wanted the backstory on just about everything in here.” You smiled, gesturing around the hall of fame, “took up a bit too much of his time.”
“Nonsense.” Rebecca said kindly, just as Roy mumbled,
“Never,” quietly enough for you to hear.
“Better get on with it then, Coach. We’ll see you in the media room?”
“Yeah sure, won’t be long.” He’s still watching you as he leaves, watching Sammy silently questioning if you’re ok, and the relief in your responding nod. You know you’ve given him a total information overload, it was no surprise that he just needed a little time to decompress. The interviews went well, snapshots of how Ted Lasso had made an impact on their lives and how they’d carried that forward. How Rebecca was trying to bring community back to football rather than corporate, and how Roy as a former player, was the lynchpin to it all - having seen both sides and having experienced toxic locker rooms they talked a lot about the new family-style approach they’d adopted at Richmond. You hadn’t been expecting the level of pride you felt when you watched his interview late in the afternoon. It seemed you weren’t the only one who’d gone through some significant changes over the last few years. He held the same intensity and drive, but with less anger bubbling under the surface. Once the day had wrapped up and Sammy had thanked Rebecca and Keeley profusely for the unlimited access to the team, you both sat in your car in silence. You felt Sammy’s shoulders shaking and when you looked over the gearstick, he was silently laughing.
“What’s funny?”
“That was such an amazing day!” He laughed with glee, the lifetime Richmond fan inside him taking over completely after a day of holding his composure. You joined him in laughter, the two of you giggling like kids with tears streaming down your faces.
“Thank you for bringing me. I really appreciate it.” You reached over to give him a one-armed hug,
“Come on, let’s go home for dinner.” You guided your car through the streets of Richmond and parked up a few doors down from Sammy and Nia’s house. The house smelled incredible, like your favourite Nia dish, “not my wife making your favourite meal after a busy day at work!” Sammy teased,
“She loves me, what can I say?! You’ll be grateful when you have an on demand babysitter, don’t try and deny it.”
“Get in here you two, dinner’s ready and I want to hear how it went! Did he cry?”
“Not til the way home, he was totally cool, calm and collected all day. I’m very proud.” You giggle, taking plates from Nia and planting a kiss on her cheek. Sammy spent dinner regaling his wife with the whole story of the day of his dreams, while you spent the entire time thinking about Roy. Being able to explain to him, and return his watch, had finally closed the lid on the last three years of heartache and stress. It felt like the unfinished chapter of your life had been completed, ready for you to move onto actually living.
“You ok sweetheart?” Nia asked, gently once Sammy had stopped talking long enough to eat.
“Yeah, I’m good. I spoke to Roy, explained everything. He took it well, all things considered.”
“You are fully repented.” She smiled, “free.”
“I wouldn’t go that far, feels pretty good though. Feels like I’ve done enough to forgive myself and maybe that’s enough?” You finish up dinner and load the dishwasher despite Nia’s protests before heading home. You're preoccupied with making sure you’ve gathered all the junk from your car - coffee cups, laptop bag, handbag, water bottle, that you nearly trip over the body on your doorstep. “Oh fuck! Roy?”
“Yeah, shit, I didn’t expect a kickin’?” He rubbed at his shin with a wince.
“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to find you on my doorstep. How did you find my doorstep?”
“You had to fill in a health and safety form at work,”
“Pretty sure those are confidential?”
“Ok, I asked Sammy and he told me.”
“Ok, yeah I can accept that one,” you told him with a shrug. “How long have you been out here?”
“Hour or -” he checked his watch, the one you returned to him, “two. Closer to two.”
“I went to Sammy’s for dinner.”
“Figured as much. I didn’t have your number.”
“Should have taken it off the form,” you smirked,
“I prefer the element of surprise.”
“Coming in?”
“If that’s ok?”
“No, it’s not.” His face fell for a second, “I’m just messing. Course you can.” He followed you, as you turned on lights with your elbow and found a home for all the stuff in your arms. “Beers in the fridge,” you suggested, and he set to work uncapping them. When you get back to the living room, he handed yours over and you clink the necks of the bottle together,
“To forgiveness.” He muttered quietly.
“Is that what this is?”
“Course it is, what else could it be?”
“I wouldn’t expect you to forgive so easily. You don’t have to.”
“I want to. It’s not about my forgiveness, I reckon you’ve been fuckin’ torturing yourself for long enough.” You paused with the bottle halfway to your mouth. He’d get on well with Nia.
“Thank you.” You both drink in silence, leaning against the kitchen counter. “You were amazing today, you know?” He doesn’t look up from his bottle. “So different, but so familiar. Like… the best version of yourself, if that makes sense.”
“That’ll be the fuckin’ therapy.” He chuckled,
“Yeah? I should get on that.” The label of your bottle is peeling under the weight of the condensation, “I never meant to fall in love with you, you know?” He does look up at that, his gaze holding yours, “I thought we hadn’t been together that long, I could get away with just walking away and…” you wave your hand as you trail off.
“I never meant to fall in love with you,” He repeats your words, “but I did.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah. One of those kinds of love where you spend the rest of your life wondering what could have happened.” He moves to stand in front of you,
“I only wanted to protect you. Protect your career.”
“I wish you’d given me the same fucking chance.” He cupped your cheek and you lean into it, “how many nights you spent working all those stupid hours and I could have just paid that money like it was fucking nothing. I made more than that in a week when I was at Chelsea.”
“I wouldn’t have taken your money, Roy.” Neither of you point out that you stole his watch instead.
“You wouldn’t have taken it, I’d have given it to you. I could have saved you from so much shit and pain.” His voice cracks a little at the tears openly streaming down your cheeks. He’s so close you can see the freckles on his cheeks, the fine cut line of his neatly trimmed beard. The soft lines in the corners of his eyes.
“You’re so beautiful.” You tell him.
“That’s my fucking line,” he leans down to you, brushing his thumbs lightly over your cheeks to wipe the tears away, “thief. That’s my watch, my line, my fucking heart… anything else while I’m here?”
“Your heart?”
“You never gave it back to me, you’ve had it the whole time.”
"Fuck me, Roy, that's a line," you sigh.
"I thought it was pretty good actually," he reasoned.
"It was very good. Do you plan on making the most of making me swoon?" That's all the permission he needs. He kisses you and you realise that he was also the last person you kissed three long years ago. He was the last person to really touch you, to hear your cries of pleasure, the last person in your bed. It's like he’s oxygen and you can't get enough. Your hands grasp at his top, pulling it off. You reach then for your own, fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. He nips at your jaw and down your neck, "god Roy, I've missed you. F-fuck, I've missed this." He hooks a hand under your thigh, bringing it up over his hip and leans you back into the counter. The heat of your core presses against him and you know you’re already soaked with anticipation.
"Can't believe I let you walk away from me." He grunted, his mouth on your neck, your chest, your lips - anywhere he can. "Fuck, need a condom," he mutters. You shake your head,
"There hasn't been anyone since you." You confirm, embarrassed that it had been 3 years, he stops in his tracks,
"No one?"
"It wasn't exactly a priority initially, and then I just…" you shrug, "No one would have come close to you, Roy." His eyes are dark, his jaw clenched tight.
"Fuckin' hell," he growls, " Fuckin' hell. " His grip on your hip and thigh tighten, sure to leave bruises. You can feel his hard cock against your inner thigh and roll your hips into him,
"please Roy, fuck me and fill me up," you plead, turning his face with your hand so you can kiss along the neat line of his beard. He needs no further encouragement to unzip his pants and roughly push your underwear to one side. He pushes into you straight to the hilt without warning and despite the fact that your pussy is flooded for him, there's still a brief sharp pain as he stretches you to fit him. Once he's fully seated, he pauses to kiss you,
"You ok? You sure?" He asks.
"I'm sure, please don't stop," you beg, "please, Roy I need you to fuck me," the feeling of him inside you, surrounding you, has you babbling as he thrusts into you rhythmically.
"You've been waiting for this?"
"Been waiting for you," you can already feel your body tightening, the walls of your pussy clenching his cock desperately. After 3 years, you're half surprised you didn't come the second he pushed into you. "Jesus fuck, Roy -" you break off with a sob as you come. He's only a couple of stuttered thrusts behind when he spills into you with a low groan. When he pulls out, your thighs are sticky with your combined release.
"I love you," he whispers, "and I missed you and I'm not letting you get away this time."
"I love you too." Your eyes well with tears again, "I'm not going anywhere." Your heart could burst, you're so happy and you know you’re never gonna to walk away again.
FIN
#ted lasso fanfiction#ted lasso fic#roy kent#roy kent x reader#roy kent fanfiction#roy kent fic#roy kent fluff#roy kent fanfic#roy kent smut#roy kent x you#roy kent imagine
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Ruined anniversary
Pairing: Brock Rumlow X Reader.
Word count: 610 words.
Summary: You have plans to celebrate your anniversary, but would change.
Warnings: Little angst.
A/N: This is my gift to @talia-rumlow. HAPPY BIRTHDAY FREYA!
@saiyanprincessswanie
My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.
I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other's people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.
Add yourself to my taglist here.
My other media where I publish: Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter.
If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.
Tags: @sinceimetyou @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum @hallecarey1 @nana1000night @mylifeispainandiloveit @writingshae @alexxavicry @azulatodoryuga @daemonslittlebitch
You felt Brock's hand caress your cheek as you took a nap after the mission. That mission had been one of the most exhausting, even though it didn't take many days.
Back on the ship, you decided to take some rest, but Brock had inadvertently woken you up.
“Is something wrong? “Brock asked you when he saw you looking thoughtful.
“I just remembered how we met," you answered.
“On the first mission after we left the Academy," he remembered, for the first time in his life he felt nervous, in fact, he wanted to ask you out since you were at the Academy, but he never dared, however the adrenaline he felt on that first mission pushed him to ask you.
“You almost shot me on that mission," you commented.
“I thought you were from the enemy team," Brock excused himself.
“If you wanted a kiss you should have asked me instead of pointing a gun at me," you teased.
“Oh, come on, well, maybe if I had asked you, our first date wouldn't have been ruined by the Chitauris. "
You snorted, everything was going so perfectly, you were about to kiss when one of the damn monsters walked past you, that's when you realized you had several messages where S.H.I.E.L.D. required your presence, but you had been ignoring your cell phones until you saw the monster.
Your anniversary would be next month, and you were planning to go to the beach that weekend, but maybe your plans were going to change for the next mission.
You were collecting all the information you could from the computer you found.
“T/N, status," Brock asked you over the intercom.
“Getting information from a computer in the south wing," you replied.
A few minutes later Brock was running to where you were, he had heard you arguing with someone, whose voice he didn't recognize, then some explosions and screams.
He wasn't going to lose you, he knew you usually didn't need to be rescued, but he wasn't going to let anything bad happen to you, let alone lose you.
When he got to where you were, he found you unconscious, the person who had attacked you was gone.
The next couple of days, Brock did not leave your side, he would stay with you, he did not want you to wake up and he was not there.
It was on the third day that you opened your eyes, and he immediately called the doctors. Everything was fine, but you had to stay a couple of days more in the hospital.
“I'm sorry, I don't think we will be able to go to the beach," you apologized, a little disappointed, you had let your guard down and that's why you had been attacked.
“The only thing that matters to me is that you are well, we’ll celebrate later. "
“Brock, tomorrow is our anniversary," you commented, he nodded. "Do you think they'll let me out tomorrow so we can celebrate? "
“I'd rather you follow the doctor's orders," Brock said sternly.
“Oh, come on, I bought some lingerie, especially for the occasion," you commented seductively.
“Well, we'll celebrate later, but that day I'll make you scream so much until your voice is gone and you might not be able to walk after what I'll do to you," he got up to go to the door, he would go to buy something to eat.
“Brock, hey, no, come here, I want us to celebrate right now. Brock, hey, don't ignore me!"
But he had already left the room, you snorted, the day you celebrated, you would get your revenge and enjoy it.
#Happy birthday Freya#brock rumlow x reader#brock rumlow x you#brock rumlow x y/n#brock rumlow fanfiction#brock rumlow#brockrumlow#brock fanfic#mcu brock rumlow#mcu crossbones
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Dude, (affectionate, non-gendered) where do you FIND all the media and posts surrounding the Gazette?!
I think you're just my main valve of Gazette-Content, so thank you for that :)
dude!!! (equally affectionate and non gendered) UHHH well the answer is …. a lot. i used to download everything i saw back when livejournal still had a thriving (and dying) community, but nowadays it's mainly just keeping up with everything that comes out while also collecting as much old media as I can get my hands on. keeping up with them on twitter/instagram, buying and scanning magazines and so on. (and buying cds and dvds both old and new) it's a lot to keep track of, especially magazines and pamhplets and the like, but it's become a fun hobby for me! and if you weren't aware of the archive, then you can look at it here! (also, sorry this took a while, i got really sick for a few days)
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HEADCANON DUMP
a collection of andy's headcanons from her original blog complied into one post
sometimes, andy will see an adroable baby / kid and be struck with 'you know what? having a kid wouldn't be so bad after all', more so when vuglar crown takes off and she no longer works for a kids toy store where a few kids will make her go 'nope, that's right, i don't want them'
blood k!nk
if she applied herself, andy would have been a jock but she never tried out for sports - she was going too but meet her boys and decided they were better than sports
Andy not having a good sleep schedule being able to sleep well until she is like 15 when she starts staying over at her boys homes / she just ends up falling asleep at their homes because she feels safe emotionally there compared to her own home...
andy and storm have been to a few warped tours
HIGH risk of entering the 27 club
it's the fact that henry before she let's herself be loved, is her only ever boyfriend. anyone in between are flings / hook ups - nothing ever serious because andy could never tie herself down like that and set herself up for that kind of heartache
andy will never forgive her parents, not her mother, not her father, nor not her step mother
andy first had sex when she was 16/17 with her then boyfriend henry
andy is the short people who, if you use them as a rest / to lean on, they will hit you / elbow you / curse at you - so be warned
reminder, if you see andy's soft side, she trusts you ; which is a lot bc she doesn't trust a lot of people, especially to let down her guard. it even took a long while for her guard to come down completely around her sister
since she was fourteen, andy has not spent a single christmas with her family. maybe would have gotten a call into evanie - but, otherwise she nopes the fuck out of the houses for nearly 48 hours
andy maybe a bitch, andy maybe a hardass, andy may be the kind of person who says she doesn't want kids but god me damed if a kid hands her a fake phone and she doesn't pretend to answer it. she will, she does like kids and entertaining them - just, she doesn't want them or feel like she would be a good mother
Andy def is a heavy handed pourer
andy calling the band her own little addams family not nesseicaly bc they’re like the addams like appearance / aesthetic wise, but bc the dynamic they’ve made with each other, with the unconditional love and support for each other is what reminds her of the family, and she craves it... also she would hurt anyone for her boys
andy WILL throw hands with you if you come at her with anything christmas-y
is there a high change that andy has cried while watching an iteration of the addams family ( media before 2010 ), where andy when thinking about them too much cried because she wanted a family like that, a family who accepted her differences and who just loved her unconditionally? yes....
if andy see’s haley ( storm’s ex ) on the street - someone better hold on tight to her arm, bc andy will fight her
one day, andy will straight up just play the drums in her underwear on stage ; just to piss off those people who would judge her for what she wears ( like either too much or too little )
one thing you got to know when dating andy is... no, she will not love you more then her boys. i’m sorry, but they’ll always be a 3way tie for her. the only thing that could knock that down is a pet ( cat or dog tbh )
If she wasn't a drummer, Andy probably would have gone into wrestling
andy loves horror films
she loves scare parks / mazes and isn’t jump scared easy but when she is - she’s a puncher
andy is one of those short people who will and is bitter about being short. so not make a joke about it, she will come for your knee caps
is andy like 5′2? yes. does she like being the big spoon? hell yes
Andy is the kind of person to refuse to admit she's cold even if she's shivering up a storm
Andy, across all socials ( twitter, insta, tiktok ): andydaines Andy also as a private ones, which is her bandmembers only ( maybe eventually select others close to her ): drummerdaines
Andy watched Deathgasm, then made the rest of the band watch it.
Around 16/17, Andy dated a guy named Henry. This caused Alan's harassment of her to get heavier. They dated for 5 months, they broke up when he said he loved her - she, dumped him the next day. Then, its two weeks later, she has her breakdown mentioned in her bio bc Alan somehow got worse in that time period
this just in, andy can not do death. but like specifically of her boys or sister... those would wreck her. like break her or shatter her to a million pieces
andy likes halestorm
she’ll never admit it, but, andy has a praise kink. tell her she’s good at making your feel good. tell her what she’s doing to great.
tbh. if you’re friends with andy - you have scary dog privileges bc boy is she a handful and will hurt anyone who hurts those she cares about
andy ends up getting a sword on her sternum for her 21st birthday
i know i’ve said this before, but andy has many many photos of her bandmates looking silly / goofy and honestly at times outright awful. she has them sectioned off into folders. so one of storm, jamie and mac, then a folder for pairs and then all three of them - and yes has some of her own bc she likes to laugh at herself sometimes. she does have them of evanie too but not as much but it will get to the same amount as her bandmates - watch her over the years that they mend the relationship
andy is the kind to give the silent treatment at someone she is upset with or angry with
andy did not like, haley - always felt this off vibe from her but because storm had looked happy, didn’t say anything, so of course when they broke up, andy was happy - only for seconds later needed to be held back when finding out that storm broke up with her because she had been using him. and yes, at the time andy would have been sixteen
andy is a bitter, everyone she has known has at least one story about her biting them or biting at them, whether it’s because they put their fingers to close to her face when she’s in a mood, because she just felt like it - or it was her way of saying she was mad at them ( which generally gets resolved )
how to have andy putty in your hands? serenade her with gnr, even if you suck at singing / playing instruments
the first like couple of times that any of her bandmates genuinely complimented her or told her she was good enough, or that they cared and loved her, andy felt like crying her eyes out. because it wasn’t something she heard often until them
she nearly cried in front of evanie the first time it happened when they were mending their relationship
andy has 100% stolen items of clothing from all her bandmates. she needs something, she picks it up and wears it - not caring whose it is
andy tends to sleep in an old gnr shirt that she’s had for a a couple of years & underwear
has gotten changed in front of her bandmates bc she doesn’t care about the whole ‘you should change in a different room bc you’re a girl’ bullshit. if she needs to get changed, she will get changed
Andy has a stuffed toy she got when she was a kid, still has it and no one knows about it. I mean, not even Storm who can weasel anything out of her. It was from when she doesn't remember being the outcast of the family, so it's tied with the once happy family that she very briefly had.
andy is honestly scared of love, of falling into love, it kind of scares her to no end because there will always be that deep rooted fear that while she will give them her whole heart, they would find someone better than her, and leave her - and she doesn’t want to put herself through that
6 months is roughly how long it took since Andy and Evanie starting to mend ( like fully) their relationship for Andy to let her two worlds meet ( her band and her sister ) officially. Once again, she never fully separated them, always spoke about the other to the other, just didn't have them meet for a while. Bc in doing so was opening up a side of her, to Evanie that her sister hadn't seen before, more carefree and more herself as that is how her boys make her feel
andy is fascinated by the butterfly effect, and theories around it
andy loves horrors, in fact loves watching the stupid cheesy ones - those are her favourite
if andy’s honest, she will probably not cry over her parents death when it happens right away. like sure they’re not the best especially to her as the did favour evanie. but like, she’d break at the loss of never getting and never going to get that kind of attention even though she acts like she doesn’t care about her parents or that she doesn’t care that they don’t love her - but, there is that part of her that craves is deep down in her, like she wishes she wasn’t the screw up in the family.
she would avoid this breakdown around evanie, it would probably happen around either storm, jamie or mac, and it’s be like days or a weeks later
andy... just has collection of silly photos of all her bandmates, and her sister. refuses to delete them bc they’re funny. and yes, sorted by bandmate
while, andy will automatically recognise welcome to the jungle from just one note or just the drums pretty instantly, when it comes to just guitar or bass... it’s a tad but longer then it would drums, she will get it pretty quickly
to spite her step mum, who wants her to be girly and all that, her own mother kinda gave up on that and focused on evanie. andy would blast songs like Animal ( I fuck like a beast ) by W.A.S.P, A Little Piece of Heaven by A7X, anything her step mum would say is too ‘vulgar’ for a young girl to listen too
She hates the smell of lavender. She can not stand it, it makes her gag - this is due to her step mum using it to try and make Andy more ‘girly’. It was constantly sprayed on her, and within Andy’s room
She has, as of right now three tattoos. A rose on her inner upper left arm that takes up pretty much the space from her pit to the elbow. A stick ‘n poke Heart and star that she did herself on her left and right hip, and she got the middle finger being pulled on her left calf, it was a small flash design
I’ve named the guy who was harassing her from 15 till roughly 18. His name is Alan Cassner, in the year above her. He had taken Andy saying no to him, as a challenge rather then her simply saying no. would resort to slut shaming Andy when he didn’t get his way. Often claiming she was only friends with Jamie, Mac and Storm so she can sleep with them. One time, he tried to feel her up - and she punched him ; she got detention for it and her parents grounded her for it.
She hates her costumer service voice ; it’s always like three octaves higher then her usual speaking voice. and don’t get her started on entitled parents - she can’t wait until the band pops off and can put Retail aside
one time, a guy quizzed andy on guns and roses because she wore their shirt. got told she was wearing it to impress the guys ( referring to her friends aka her bandmates ). she knew her friends wanted to step in, but she had it. she answered all the questions, and threw her own. she received a high five from storm when she managed to make the guy fumble because she asked a question that was meant to make him stuff up - and he did and she called him out on his bullshit and told him to never fucking do that shit again, because it doesn’t fucking matter - a shirt is a shirt.
andy loves the song welcome to the jungle by guns and roses, and loves playing it on her drums. in fact, it’s her go to song when she’s upset and is playing her drums. she can recognise the song by just the drums alone
andy maybe the youngest of the band but, she will not hesitate to stand up for her bandmates. which is ironic as she has had a hard time doing so for herself and the band ended up helping her with that.
as much as she loves her sister, she hasn’t told her about the stalker guy from high school - that was just her band mates that know about that. she will tell her eventually
there was a moment, where andy’s drumkit had been broken, everyone suspected it was the guy harassing her. andy cried at seeing it. storm brought her a new one
being the only female in a band of guys / those guys being her best friends for years, there have been people who have accused andy of having slept with one or all of them. one time when someone did this, andy punched the person in the face because they were implying she was ‘easy’ as she hung around guys a lot, and not girls.
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hi! sorry to bother but i had a question about the hypmic lives? i recently got back into the fandom after several years and i wanted to know if there was a general set amount of time we have to wait before the dvds for the lives are for sale? and if its possible to buy any of the previous ones?
hii first of all welcome back to the pit fandom!
you are in the right place with this question bc i definitely know a thing or two about this <- guy who owns multiple copies of every live lol (except the solo lives bc oh god that was expensive)
this'll get long so answer goes under the cut
to start: i am a strong supporter of pirating media you cannot feasibly access otherwise, so don't hesitate to do that. i can't tell you where to actually find the lives online bc i personally do enjoy collecting the physical copies of the lives and throwing my money at the franchise, so i have no idea. but i'm sure they're all out there somewhere if you want to look!
if you are interested in buying them, they'll usually be out within a year of the actual lives taking place. 9th live just released a few weeks back, and 9th live took place nearly a year before that, so sometimes it can be a pretty long wait
10th live may be a somewhat special case because it's the first time we've had multi-angle cameras for the livestream, and i don't know how or if they'll include those on the dvds? i've heard each day is like a 3hr live as well so i'm sure it'll be a big (and pricey) thing even if they don't do anything with the multi-angle camera stuff
in short: i would expect 10th live dvds to be out in about a year, and i would personally guess that they'll cost in the neighborhood of 20k yen at least
(zero out was 16,830 yen on amiami, same price for dvd and bluray, and it seems to me like 10th live is an even bigger live... so i'm expecting it to be more expensive)
if you want to watch 10th live through an official avenue and don't want to wait, it is currently still available for streaming on abema. you can pay for the stream and watch it as many times as you want until the 14th (so there's only a few days left of that) but you'll need a vpn for it to be available in your area (unless you happen to live in japan)
as for the previous lives!
9th live is actually still available on amiami, where i usually get my lives. neither the bluray nor dvd is sold out yet, so you can pick it up that way (but again they are 16,830 yen each)
for older lives, you can generally find them on proxy sites (again, that's only assuming you don't live in japan)
personally i use fromjapan as my proxy. i don't think it's necessarily better than other proxies out there, but it's the one officially affiliated with hypster, which is what i'm mostly buying from lol, so it was just more convenient for me to set up an account there
you can typically find listings for the older lives for quite cheap, sometimes you can even find big lots containing all or most of the lives (usually some cds as well) for a really good price
they also sometimes pop up on mandarake, but won't necessarily be cheapest there
although the prices can be really low (like less than 2k for some lives; for example i just did a quick search and see a copy of six shots for literally only 1,150 yen) keep in mind that there will be shipping! so factor that into your budget as well
one tip on searching, do your searches in japanese (for example search for "ヒプノシスマイク" instead of "hypnosis mic") because sometimes a lot of things don't show up when you search in english. that's the case on fromjapan at least, not sure about other proxies
another tip is do not buy from sites like otaku republic... or whatever it's called, i don't really remember. basically even with expensive overseas shipping, proxies are still so much cheaper, in my experience, than these other sites that mark up prices to absurd rates. like i'll see these english sites selling a doujin for 10,000 yen that you could get for literally 500 yen elsewhere, it's absurd
but ahem yeah tl;dr
10th live dvds should be out in about a year
10th live stream can still be purchased on abema for viewing until the 14th
9th live still available on amiami (possibly elsewhere as well)
older lives best bought through a proxy (fromjapan or whichever you prefer)
keep international shipping in mind if you do not live in japan!
1st live does not exist btw*
2nd and 3rd live are bundled together on one dvd
*like there is no published dvd of it, some footage has been released as part of anniversary celebrations though i'm not sure if that's still available... i'm sure it's somewhere!
#asks#this is a VERY LONG RAMBLE but i hope there is some helpful info in there#feel free to skip to the very bottom for a bullet-point tl;dr
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i'm 'tell me what it was like in 2014' anon and can i just say. i am so honored by the time and care you put into that answer. WOW. it was such a delight to read and kind of vicariously experience. i'm 18 now so i was 9 when winter soldier came out, needless to say it was not really on my radar. But i've always been interested in those kind of golden tumblr age fandoms (doing destiel from 2020-2022 was like. the best experience of my lifeeee) and even like in middle school i was scrolling through pinterest screenshots of avengers incorrect quotes etc. that creative generativeness and collective celebration seems like. such a utopia honestly. what you described, and the cultural context of it being the mid 2010s and how media and politics and the internet wereback then seems so perfectly aligned. i'm happy you got to experience something so special! re: not easily conquered. i read it a few years ago just because of how renowned it was and. well you KNOW. and anyway the crazy fucking whiplash i got from realizing the supernatural blogger i followed later was EMILY??. the fandom's interest in history and culture is also especially beautiful to me. i will literally never see the winged victory the same way again. ik people always say fics written 2012-2015 have crack in them but stucky was on another level. people were doing literal highbrow analysis and art..that banana fic. i have i love you like rlb saved on my notes app from like 2018 when i was in middle school. the dedication and like crazy amount of work that went into the fandom is just out of this world to me. like i'd give my soul to be there honestly.. you just dont get things like that anymore. again thank you so so much for your wonderful long answer, and like honestly. if i ever pursue some project on fandom history i might ask to interview you or sth. but anyway, suffice it to say: i really really wish i could have gotten to see it first hand, but thank goodness i can still go back and read fic and look at fanart and. thank you it's been long long time by helen forrest. and i''m so glad people who were active online then are still on tumblr to talk about it all
hi sorry it took me a minute to reply i was doing accursed ten year rewatch of Movie. i have an extended reply.
you should listen to this...someone sent this to my friend and it unlocked memories i didn't knew i had
much like rlb, which was insane of you to remember, because i sure didn't. dropped that on the groupchat earlier and got to gleefully watch the horror of memories unlocked unfold on their faces
also so true about destiel tumblr. sustained madness. i romanticized stucky tumblr a little in my answer bc of nostalgia like i wasn't also making mortal enemies at the same time (i sometimes spot the urls of people who made me mad back then and have a ratatouille flashback) i was making those lifelong friends BUT you're not missing anything major bc the destiel madness FAR exceeded the stucky madness. there was just so much more mania to it.
when i was in high school i had the enduring desire to have been born in the 60s so i could be a hippie full time. i thought their clothes and anti-establishment attitudes were groovy. i feel like this is you about mid-2010s tumblr and i absolutely love that for you.
that said, you may not get movies like cap2 anymore but you will certainly get fandoms like it...i recently got into trek and reading spockanalia and all their vintage fic from the 60s and 70s and 80s and seeing in some ways how spock shock is so similar to destiel madness (and THEY didn't even have the internet) has taught me that the girlies gender neutral have been out here and primed to go insane from day one and that as long as there are mentally ill teens and 20-somethings who like media there will always be people who go insane about the media. they will grow into the 30-somethings and 40-somethings and higher that write the good fic and sell the smutty fanzines under the tables at cons. there will never be another tos or cap2 or nov 5 but certainly there will always be SOMETHING to go joyfully nuts about on the internet. the tricky part is just finding ur people
#liz answers asks#anonymous#personal#i will rb this tomorrow to make sure u see it since im answering at fuck o clock#also i remembered a detail i left out of my previous ask#which is fandom looking up the locations of shooting certain scenes and figuring out steves apartment was in the gay part of dc lmao#UNWELL!
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—untill I found her • j.d
pairing: Jonny Depp x reader
summary: Johnny talks about how y/n became the sun in his life
warning: fluff.
note: don't hate. Just don't.
“So, Johnny, how you holding up?” Jimmy Fallon, the host asked Johnny who was sitting in front of him, and by the look on his face, he really meant what he asked.
Johnny took a deep breath, getting tired of only thinking about it.
“Honestly it’s been hard. With the trial and all, I mean. It was the hardest time for me. Although, I am lucky enough to say I had someone to tell me everyday that everything was going to be okay. That the storm will end soon and the sun will rise again,” He remarked, teary-eyed.
Some of the audience were also blinking away their tears knowing what their idol had to go through.
However, the “someone” topic couldn’t be left unchecked by the host. He had to gather as much information he could on the man in front of him. It was his job.
“I can’t help but wonder who your lighthouse is,” Jimmy asked finally having the questioned surfaced.
Meanwhile, you were watching the show from your TV screen. A lump formed in your throat when Jimmy asked him the question. It wouldn’t be a problem if he did tell the world about you, you just didn’t know how the fans and media would react, seeing you were nowhere near the film industry, and frankly an outcast to them.
Johnny chuckled, now being aware of his answer, the crowd cheering him on to tell them about the person.
“I can’t hide it now, can I?”
The crowd collectively answered no, making Johnny chuckle again.
“If you’re watching this darling, I’m sorry to break our secret,” he looked straight ahead at the camera as if it were you. He knew that you’d be watching. You shook your head smilingly, knowing all too well he wouldn’t be able to see you.
“So this person, her name is Y/n L/n, the greatest thing that had ever happened to me.”
The audience and Jimmy too cheered once again.
“How’d you met?”
“Funny story actually. I was working on Minamata at the time and she was running around the building with coffee in her hand and bumped at me. We both fell down. She was apologising profusely, but I was awestruck by her beauty,” He smiled remembering the day almost two years ago.
You smiled too, at the memory of the day. “God, if i hadn’t been clumsy, I wouldn’t have met you, Johnny,” you whispered to yourself with a big smile adorning your face.
“From what I heard, Ms. L/n is very beautiful,” Jimmy complimented. “When we’ll get a glimpse of her? Don’t keep her all to yourself, share too, Johnny!”
The crowd laughed at the man.
Jonny wiped the corner of his eyes. “Very soon.”
Jimmy gave the fans a chance to talk to him. They were all sweet and supporting. Everything was going okay but a question from a fan caught Johnny off-guard.
“We all know about your previous relationship. So, how does it feel to be with someone new?”
Johnny sat in his seat at loss of words. The things he felt, words wouldn’t be enough to describe.
Jimmy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the tension in the room getting intense.
After a few minutes, Johnny spoke again, his voice quivering a bit.
“I can’t describe how it’s like being with Y/n. It’s like, the first day of golden sunlight after a heavy thunderstorm. Like...like the feeling you get when, something happens, something so good you think it’s all a dream.”
His voice held truthiness. Any stranger can hear him and say he’s completely in love. In love with you. Your own eyes watered hearing him talk about you in such way.
“You know, I had made a vow to myself I’d never fall again. That love is just a fantasy. That I’m not capable of being loved. But that all changed when I met Y/n. She made me realise who I truly was. Made me feel loved and wanted in more ways than one, and I’m thankful to the heavens above, that they sent me Y/N, the woman I’ve grown to love so much over the last two years,” at the end, Johnny was at the brink of crying. He picked up the water bottle and took a sip.
“Well, Johnny, I’m happy for you,” Jimmy patted him on the shoulder.
The studio was quite, all speechless at his adoration for the woman, who was still unknown to them. But after hearing Johnny say these things, almost everyone in the room knew they’d love you. The spell broke and everyone, once again, clapped and cheered for their idol.
“Me too, man. I’m happy for me.”
In your house, you smiled too.
#johnny depp imagine#johnny depp x reader#johnny depp fluff#johnny depp#johnny depp blurb#johnny depp x you
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Flufftober 16 - The Corinthian
The Corinthian x Reader
Well... Hmm... “fluff’ may not be the right word for this one.
And yes, female reader, sorry. He’s beautiful with male lovers, I see him as bisexual/pansexual, ready to take everyone.
"He must have loved you very much. No doubt he still does."
Y/N felt like throwing up every time she remembered that sentence. She didn't know who said that, it was very confusing, but anyway she knew it was wrong.
Because her killer hadn't loved her. Oh, he had been very convincing, during the weeks they had been together. A real fairy tale.
Y/N had met him in a bar, where he had protected her from two drunken men, like a knight in his shining armour. He was charming and mysterious, with his fair hair, his white clothes and his glasses that he never took off.
Everything happened very quickly between them, but she loved him so much, they were really happy.
No doubt she should have been a little wary of "Cory". He was too perfect. Nobody was so perfect.
But it had still been a surprise when the dream turned into a nightmare.
One evening, he had arrived at her house without warning, looking strange. He said he had to go, because his 'creator' was looking for him.
Y/N had begged him to explain to her while he was collecting the few things he had left at her house, and then he had looked at her for a long time, for several minutes, before sighing.
"Actually... I don't think I'm going to be able to leave you, sweetheart. It's too risky."
"You mean I'm coming with you ?"
"No, baby. No, you stay here."
Everything went very quickly after that. Y/N didn't remember all of it. It was quite blurry. There was blood. The teeth. Then the screams, her screams, as he took her eyes.
He was whispering nonsense, and he sounded so sorry, so sad, as he plunged his knife into her flesh.
"It's not you, it's me. It's in my nature. I wish things were different, I would have liked to keep you. Besides, I will keep a part of you with me now, and forever; You really have beautiful eyes. Delicious."
After that, she should have died. In any case, if she had survived normally, she wouldn't have been able to see.
But Y/N wasn't dead, and when she woke up, she had new eyes. She was panicked and lost for the first few days. A voice in her head told her to stay calm. That she had just been reborn, with a purpose.
And that her killer had really loved her.
Bullshit.
Since no one knew what had happened to her, she tried to resume the course of her life, but it was impossible. Her new eyes were weird. She could see things. She knew things.
Some people she passed didn't look human. They looked like monsters. They looked like her killer when he took out his glasses, and yet no one seemed to see that.
The thing was that they were like him, inside, and with her new eyes Y/N could perceive their true nature.
She knew then what she had to do.
The media never spoke of her, because she was discreet. She killed the monsters as they had killed their previous victims.
Sometimes they realized it was a murderer who had died, and sometimes no one ever found out that she had killed another monster.
But that was not enough. That couldn't be her only goal. And so Y/N began to hunt down her killer.
It was not difficult to understand that he was the one called The Corinthian.
However, it was more difficult to find him, especially since she had understood that he was not human, even if she did not know what he really was.
It was a man who wasn't a man, dressed in black with a talking raven, who answered her questions. He stopped beside her in the street, staring at her for a long time before speaking with a distant voice.
"You shouldn't be alive. And yet my sister didn't take you."
"And you're not human."
"No. Who gave you those eyes ?"
"I don't know. But I'm looking for who took mine."
"I have a small idea of who that is." muttered the raven with a frightened air.
"You are chasing a nightmare. Literally. One of my creations. I seek him too, to destroy him. So you can rest, Y/N Y/L/N, you will soon be avenged and at peace."
"It's up to me to kill him."
"You're not listening. The Corinthian is a nightmare. Nothing can kill him, only I can unmake him."
"Ah, you are the creator he was talking about."
"... He told you about me ?" asked the thing in black, frowning.
Y/N quickly told him about her murder, all the details she remembered and what the voice had told her.
This seemed to surprise the Nightmare Maker even more.
"He's not capable of love, I didn't create him that way. And yet... It may be true."
"Not at all. He killed me, he took my eyes."
"But you're not dead and you have new eyes. He may have done something to make this happen. After all, you love him."
"I loved it."
"You travel the world looking for him. Nobody does that without a bit of love."
"To kill him."
"I just told you you couldn't kill him." he said, staring at her with what looked like pity. "But you'll still keep looking for him. Because you probably want revenge, but there's something else. You want to see him. You miss him. You think about him every day. You love him, as he may loves you. That's this love that binds you, and that allows you to move forward."
"It's wrong !"
"Then stop chasing him. Let me handle this and go home. I promise you there will never be bad dreams again."
"... No. I have to find him."
The dream-being shook his head, but said nothing before leaving with his raven, who wished her good luck.
It was by chance that she heard about the Cereals convention. A "collector" caught her killing a monster, and he didn't understand that she only went after those who were like him.
She listened to him with the intention of killing him when he was done, until he told her about this year's guest of honour, The Corinthian.
Since she didn't have a name, Y/N decided not to kill the little monster right away, accompanying him as a guest.
She could purge the Earth of many abominations, but above all she would finally find her worst nightmare.
The atmosphere there was nauseating. A concentrate of darkness.
And in the middle of it all, on an extradite, acclaimed by all, The Corinthian.
He was making a ridiculous speech about the American dream, proud of himself, displaying a big smile, until he saw Y/N at the back of the room.
Something changed then. He seemed to freeze, as if afraid, before slowly advancing towards her, ignoring the surprised looks of the spectators.
Having caught his attention, Y/N left the room, luring him to a quieter place, hiding in a corner with a knife, ready to strike.
He didn't cry out when she thrust the blade into his heart. He didn't move, looking at her with what looked like joy, putting a hand over hers as he regained his smile.
"Sweetheart. Sweetheart, it's so wonderful to see you again. I've missed you so much."
"Die !" she cried, stabbing the blade back into his chest.
"You're so adorable, so beautiful. Those eyes aren't as pretty as the ones you had. Are you mad that I took them ? I've never felt so close to you, but not having you by my side was still hard. You're here now ! Oh, do you want to stab me again ? Go ahead, baby. It's so intimate, don't you think ? I don't have eyes for you, but you can eat something else. My tongue ? My heart ? Choose. You must be so beautiful when you're covered in blood. I mean, I know that you are, I remember, but I meant someone else's blood. My blood.'
"I TOLD YOU TO DIE !"
"Yes, that's it, go ahead my love, kill me ! KILL ME !"
The more she stabbed the knife, the more he smiled, he laughed, he encouraged her by repeating tender words, as if they were making love and that everything was perfectly normal.
When it was clear that the dream creature being had told the truth and he wouldn't die, Y/N felt very tired, sobbing as she fell to her knees.
The Corinthian knelt beside her, taking her face so that she looked at him, admiring her handiwork.
"I knew you were different. I knew you were like me."
"I'm not like you at all ! I kill monsters like you !"
"Oh, sweetheart." he purred, licking her tears away, before depositing a parody of a kiss on her lips. "Everyone has nightmares. A killer is still a killer. We could do a wonderful job together."
"I'm going to kill you."
"Yes, my love. But not today. We should go, I feel there are people I don't want to see. Come on. We're going home."
Truly too exhausted to resist, her eyes full of tears, Y/N let him carry her to a car, wrapping her arms around him, thinking that maybe the dreammaker was right.
Because if she was really determined to kill him, a part of her was happy to find him, and to be with him. And maybe he felt exactly the same.
Only he had already killed her. Now he just wanted to keep her.
#the sandman#sandman netflix#the corinthian#the corinthian x reader#the corinthian imagine#the corinthian fanfiction#flufftober 2022
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Hi Caro! How are you? I hope you're good and in a place where it isn't very hot (my friend living in England had a very rough time). I'm just here wondering why my type is cute subby twinks, and why is close to impossible to find them in Argentina (I still remember the day I took one of those online test about the type of men you like and the answer was twinks and I was like WELL DAMN I FEEL ATTACKED). My name is Victoria, idk if I ever told you, but everyone calls me Vik or Vicky (usually the first one, I guess it's more gender neutral so it fits me better). Sorry that I'm ranting, I really enjoy talking to you.
more than glad to answer, vic! 💙 hm... a philosophy on twinks and why they're appealing. time for a little essay.
first off, i wish there was a bi and straight term as well, they're not 100% the same as e.g. pretty boys or femboys — those categories are even more particular to a certain femdom aesthetic. pretty boys are defined by face, femboys by clothes hair and body, twinks by both.
my suggestion for a word would be "prince". it's positive, people get the gist intuitively, and it's derived from the groundbreaking artist who invented this whole game to the fullest after greek culture laid the foundation, shoutout to apollo. before leo (90s) zac efron (00s) and taemin (10s) paved the way, there was prince in crop tops, heavy makeup, heels, and poses few guys dared.
so, a prince, they're usually the anti-jock/bear, right. more petite in frame, often fashionable like an it-boy (see lucky blue smith), frequently gnc, and found in a 20-30 age group with some exceptions. but i think that's why they are appealing to us, it's a generation thing. just like t. chalamet, lil nas x, and troye sivan hit it big among gen z by sheer exposure, or the eboy/softboy fad in hetero media, although that one wasn't really femdom in spirit and just another brand of manipulative nice guy syndrome.
princes don't come across as physically imposing, they're more tongue in cheek and seductive or cute, the link to your zelda. that caters to somebody with a taste for subs/bottoms who'd rather have them sat on their lap than getting choked out by them which is almost treated as a given, same with spanking or rough sex. so, that notion of twinks has opened the door to something less compulsive gladly.
a prince can come with an edge, twinks and brats may have some overlaps depending on the guy, but at the end of the day, they're subs, both hard and soft. jonghyun has set quite the tone for it artistically, major credit due. he's broken the mold to say that it's so boring and restrictive to be a dominant guy and there's more out there than what the societal landscape offers.
thank god taemin has carried that on and continues to inspire others.
in recent times, the word also becomes more and more open to guys who are tall / fit or conventional-looking. i see this in how european football is received on tumblr where calling your favorite club `#twink fc (affectionate)´ is a thing on here 😆 and it's true. you haven't seen more collective prince energy as in the german national team. the gorgeousness is real and the ladies who date them... lucky af.
(^kai havertz - plays for chelsea fc)
(^joshua kimmich / leroy sané - play for bavaria fc. they both have 2+ kids with their gfs lmao you don't have to be a DILF or daddy, twinkness cannot be concealed 🤘)
the whole idea is not to be conflated with power bottoms, see aquaria on drag race who looks like a twink but tops, by the way. which is why taemin generates so much traction, he plays with switching and walks the line but always winds up with a submitting conclusion. ten, or yoongi, they’re mysterious to people in that regard, too. or wonho, who follows a jock aesthetic but offers himself as a fantasy with an 'open mind' and a cute personality in the mix, neither gentle giant, himbo, nor a skinny short king, just doing his own thing.
a twink or prince is easy on the eye for anyone who likes androgyny and is usually in favor of being gnc themselves, or is bored/turned off/disappointed or even frightened by the mainstream. argentina hasn't had that scope of pop culture industry to inspire trends, and prevailing structures of machismo and chivalry prevent androgyny in dress and behavior, especially outside larger cities as is also the case where i live (southern germany where christianity rules — you can imagine, it's not berlin).
where binaries, monosexuality and hypermasculine/homophobic/biphobic conduct is exaggerated, you won't find a twink able to do their thing or getting attention. sure, gnc people are always there and the world is slowly catching up in some places, although it feels like we're going ten steps backwards as a backlash these days which is unacceptable. that's why k-pop is such a refreshing element in the way that male performers present concepts and a female pov is embraced. nobody deems it punishable or strange if you walk up like this, in fact it's celebrated.
it also bursts the bubble of twink/prince = white and goes even further than just one specific aesthetic. it changes constantly and incorporates actual elements of kink culture rather than leaving men's submission unspoken as an ultimate taboo. it may be commercial, but it is also literal and encourages nonconforming styles and body types as the rise of shinee, skz, or nct exemplifies. the next generation prince/twink trailblazer is sure to be found there, my bet is on taeyong or felix, they're really owning the princeliness.
#and to answer the first question yes it's piping hot here nobody has an ac#but i try to stay chill in the shade and drink iced water au masse#kpop#jonghyun#jimin#taemin#felix#taeyong#skz#nct#prince#wonho#yoongi#ten
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What I Deserve (2) | soft Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Bucky couldn’t believe his luck when he found you. So innocent, so alone, and so naive. He had been following you throughout the week, hell- he wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore and you never noticed him once.
Pairing: Dark!Bucky x Reader
WARNINGS: +18, dub-con, needle use, stalking, fingering, kidnapping, kind of non-con (more dub-con but just incase)
Word Count: 3,076
A/N: my timeline on which version of Barnes is fucked up and a mix of everything honestly // my first ever time writing smut, and honestly I'm open to constructive criticism b/c I have no experience in this area LOLZ
You squeezed your eyes as you stretched your body. Feeling your comforter rise and fall against your skin from your movements. You hung your feet off your bed and stretched them before standing up. You did your usual set of morning stretches, were they done correctly? Probably not, but it was the thought that counts and the only form of self-care you gave yourself. You let out a sigh as you got ready for another day similar to all the rest. You don’t even remember what it felt like to be excited about waking up, but who were you to complain. You used the toilet as you went back and forth in your mind about nothing in particular, your eyes staring at your bed that was quickly losing the warmth it collected from your body. Once done in the bathroom you dragged yourself to your vanity, hearing the faint noise of cars on the street, you began getting ready for work. After changing and grabbing your tattered work bag, you began your journey with all the other commuters.
The day dragged on like any other, talking to coworkers only when they needed something from you. Hearing the usual remarks of “Oh, I didn’t notice you” or “I didn’t even see you there”, you got used to it but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t bother you. Before you had time to dwell on it, it was time to go home. You packed your bag then began your walk home, following the same route you always take during the week. Taking a little solstice in the fact that you were just another face in the crowd, that fact made you feel as if everyone else was alone too. Once home you locked the door and dropped your bag, heading to the bedroom you changed into an oversized shirt and put on your slippers before heading towards the living room. You turned on the tv and lowered the volume for some background noise, making the short trip towards the kitchen to make dinner. You rarely got messages on your phone unless it was from your mom or your phone provider wanting you to update your old phone, so you scrolled mindlessly through various social media newsfeeds. You munched on a vegetable as you waited for your pan to heat up. You tried to not feel bad for yourself, you were the one to blame for the lack of social life but you were in too deep. Too set in your ways. You stared at the steaming pan as you imagined moving across the country.
“Yeah right” you said aloud to yourself as you finished cooking your dinner, eating the food but not really tasting it.
~~~
You repeated the same routine the next day, unbeknownst to you today was the day that Bucky decided you were ready. It didn’t take him long to find a house isolated by miles of forest. Despite its unassuming traditional exterior, the inside was modern as he enjoyed the impersonal nature that the style provided. He spent the majority of his time there making sure the house was locked and secure in case you tried anything. The thought made him laugh a little, knowing you didn’t have it in you but he didn’t want to take any chances. Things had been going his way lately, and finding you was like the universe was rewarding him even more. At first, he considered getting to know you, and doing the whole flowers and dates thing but decided he didn’t have the patience for all that waiting, he’s been waiting long enough and he deserved something good. He settled on a much easier method. Breaking in was easy, old apartments like this barely gave him any trouble. He even had someone hold the building door open for him, just his luck.
The lock felt weird when you opened your door but you didn’t think anything of it, dismissing it as another sign of the building’s old age. He watched from afar as you went about your usual routine. He was beginning to become skeptical at how oblivious you were. He was practically behind you and you hadn’t even looked over your shoulder once. He even made some accidental noises by stepping on squeaky floorboards and didn’t get a reaction from you, he took this as another lucky break. You were tired today and fell asleep relatively easily, considering how long it typically took you to fall asleep. Bucky walked around your apartment as he waited for you to enter a deeper sleep, familiar with everything since he had been in here a few times since first spotting you all those weeks ago. He looked at your book collection, a mix of genres, and looked closer at the few photos you had on display. A majority of the old photos seemed to be of your family from decades ago. He picked up one that seemed more recent, the only one you had up that included you. He recognized the other two people in it, your mom and sister, both busy with their own lives. He already sized up your family and it would be easy to handle them if he needed to.
He walked into your bathroom and went through your medicine cabinet, finding nothing out of the ordinary besides a few nail polish bottles and various allergy medicines. Finally, he noticed the soft snores coming out of your room. He shut the cabinet, staring at his reflection for a second. He knew this was the right thing to do and had no bad intention. He softly grunted at his pathetic moment of self-reflection and took out a needle filled with a small dose of anesthesia. He observed you for a moment as you slept, mouth slightly agape and eyebrows relaxed, he considered for a moment how easy it would be to take you, but reminded himself of the bigger picture. He easily found a vein and waited a few minutes before taking you to your new home.
~~~
You squeezed your eyes shut and smiled to yourself as you thought about how well you slept last night. You hummed as you kept your eyes closed briefly noticing the absence of warmth that the morning sun provided you in the mornings. You thought nothing of it, too distracted by the fact that this was probably the best night’s sleep you’d gotten in months. Despite that you still felt a little groggy, you began to move but quickly felt something rough holding you down. Your eyes shot open as your breathing began to quicken. You became conscious of the rough restraints around your arms and legs. You awkwardly lifted your head up as you tried to look around, it looked like a basement based on the unfinished walls surrounding you, a single lightbulb hanging above you on the unfinished ceiling. You attempted to calm yourself down by deeply inhaling but knew it was a lost cause once you heard the shaky exhale leave your mouth. You knew you couldn’t break free from the knotted rope holding you down. You had weak arms and tried to use your leg strength in an attempt to kick yourself free but felt it begin to sting as it irritated your ankles from the pressure. You sat in a deafening silence and felt completely petrified.
You let out a whimper as you heard footsteps approaching the door. The door opened as you saw a tall, broad man approach you. You were too scared to notice anything about him and began to feel yourself shake, causing you to miss the way he hungrily reacted to your frightened state. A shadow was cast on you as he stood over the bed. From the corner of your eye, you watched as his right hand lowered the comforter to your torso and expose your shirt as you twitched at the action. He smirked in response, your eyes following his hand as it hovered over the comforter as though he was going to do something. It exited your line of sight but your eyes were fixed in place. You heard movement as he straightened himself before speaking to you for the first time.
“Did you sleep well? You’ve been out for most of the day” His deep voice filled the room as you kept shaking, too scared to answer. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears and wondered if he could too, but he was too busy trailing his eyes over your torso. He noticed the way your nipples created peaks on your oversized shirt. He licked his lips before he moved his hand up to grab your chin, forcing you to look up at him. You did your best at avoiding his gaze keeping your gaze low, you swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to control your shaking but felt it intensify instead.
Still gripping your chin, a little tighter than necessary, and trying to control your shaking body got him hard. You looked so weak like this, it made him excited, a wicked smile painted his face as he looked down at your wide eyes and lips clamped together in terror.
“Look at me when I talk to you, doll”
You had a difficult time looking people in the eyes in general, so you lifted your eyes and stopped at his chin. You didn’t dare go any higher. He squeezed on your chin and heard him let out an amused chuckle. If you weren’t so terrified you would have noticed how out of place it sounded given the situation.
“That’ll have to do, for now, I can tell you’re terrified but you really have no reason to be. I only want to do what’s best for you- for us, I’m only doing what needs to be done.” He didn’t expect a response and stared at you as he let you sit with his words.
He took a moment and let his hand trail down from your chin. He felt the nervous swallow as his pointer finger trailed lower and lower. His finger deviated from its straight path as he placed his palm against your chest, pausing to feel your heartbeat racing. He almost felt sorry as he felt its frantic rhythm. He couldn’t help himself as he cupped your left breast. His thumb gently circling around the hard bud. You scrunched your eyebrows and scolded yourself for getting pleasure from his action. His gentle touch was a strong contrast to the situation he had put you in.
His finger continued its journey down and stopped just above your mound. You swallowed as you felt his eyes staring at you intently, not daring to see if you were right. He lifted his hand momentarily as he moves to sit next to you, hearing the springs groan under him, pushing the comforter towards the bottom of the bed. You get chills as warmth escapes, feeling the crisp air conditioning surround your body instead. Jerking at his touch, he returns his right hand to your body just below your navel this time. His fingers trace down until it feathered above your mound. You held your breath as if any noise from you would assure that he would continue his actions as if he would forget you were there. You felt his pause when his fingers hit the material of your cotton underwear. He slowly traces a short line along your clit, you ball your hands into fists wanting to make him stop. Why was your body enjoying this?
You hold your breath as he gently pulls them down till they were at your knees and returns his hand to its previous place. The empty room is quiet, amplifying the sound of both of your breaths. You feel his middle and ring finger move lower gently stroking your folds. You hear him let out a surprised huff as he continued stroking.
“I was gonna bring lube, but it looks like we won’t be needing it, huh sweetheart?”
You felt your cheeks heat up, he was right. You felt heat building ever since he grabbed your chin, but he didn’t need to know that. All you wanted to do was at the very least was cover your face, but felt the irritation of the rope on your wrists instead. He began back and forth on your heat for a few moments. The room now having the added noise of his fingers slowly speeding up as he stroked you. You shut your eyes as he circled around your entrance, you could already tell his fingers would be significantly bigger than yours. He slowly inserted a finger as you sucked in a quick breath. You could hear him let out a quiet groan as he watched his finger disappear into your hole.
After finding a rhythm he added another finger. You let out a whimper at the fullness of both of his thick fingers filling your hole. It stung at first, hurting slightly you wanted to try and stop his intrusion. Besides your finger, you had never had anything else inside of you. You felt slightly embarrassed by this when you were younger but as you got older you accepted the fact that your lack of social life was a major reason as to why you never had anything close to a romantic partner. Never being social enough to meet someone that you would want to be friends with, let alone sleep with. You felt as though you should tell this man, did you even know his name, that this was the farthest you’ve ever gone with anyone before. Before you think any more about it you open your mouth, nothing coming out at first but it was enough for his eyes to go to your face. He slowed down his pace and had his eyes trained on your face waiting for you to speak as if his fingers weren’t leisurely stroking your soft walls in the meantime.
“I- I think I need to tell you something” The words left you slowly and your voice was shakey as you tried to speak and ignore your oncoming orgasm at his rough fingers stroking you gently. Why did you feel like you owed him this? You briefly thought to yourself. But it was too late to stop now.
He smirked at you as he waited for you to continue on. So far, you’ve shown him nothing but submissiveness. Cementing the fact that he made the right choice when he chose you. He didn’t plan on being this gentle with you originally but he couldn’t help it, feeling as though any other treatment would scare you away. His fingers never stopping their gentle strokes, he watched your lips as your quiet voice trembled on.
“I’ve never really, I haven’t done any of this before. I’m a virgin” the words leave you slowly, you gulp and still refuse to meet his gaze, scared for a moment that you would lose the gentleness he has given you thus far. You knew that wouldn’t stop him, but a small part of you hoped it would be enough for him to stop just for now. For the first time you decided to look at his face, still too scared to meet his eyes you opted to watch his mouth as you waited for a response.
To say he was ecstatic was an understatement. You had chosen to tell him this on your own, he didn’t even get a chance to ask you. He didn’t want to assume but based on his observations of you he had an inkling that this was the case. He felt proud of you, his perfect girl. He smiled gently at you in response. You shivered as his fingers paused their gentle strokes in you as he moved to kiss the top of your head.
“Thank you for telling me, my good girl” it sounded patronizing but your body thought otherwise. Feeling heat shoot straight to your core at his response. He felt you squeeze around his fingers at his response.
Once he felt that you adjusted to his fingers he began to alternate inserting them. Thrusting one and then the other inside of you. Your eyes squeezed shut, you never felt this close to cumming so quickly. Your eyes swelled with tears as you quietly sobbed, reaching your climax. Both of you watched as he pulled his fingers out of your sensitive heat. Covered in slick from your climax. You watched as he moved his fingers close to his face, smirking at you.
“Just a little taste for now,” he said he brought his fingers to his mouth to suck on his two fingers that were just inside you seconds ago. The empty room amplified the sound, your face felt hot as you watched the lewd act feeling your core still throbbing.
He reveled in your obvious embarrassment, humming at your reaction. He wiped his damp fingers on his pants as he got up. You blinked slowly, taking in what had just happened. You had enjoyed what had just happened but felt angry at yourself for that. He shouldn’t have done that, and you had let yourself succumb to his fingers so easily. He watched you, deep in thought with your eyes spaced out. His cock throbbed as if reminding him he needed a release too but he didn’t want to scare you. He had a plan, but you had just showed him that he didn’t have to be as rough as he initially thought with you. And he wouldn’t ever admit it but he couldn’t have even if he wanted to, as soon as he interacted with you it was almost as if he needed to handle you with care. Something that he thought wasn’t in his nature, but for you, maybe he’d try.
He felt his confident demeanor waver for a second, an odd feeling. He needed to get away from her and have a moment alone, so with a quick glance, he turned towards the door and practically ran out of the room without speaking to her.
Too busy thinking, you didn’t notice the foreign feelings your captor had just experienced. Only noticing this broad figure leaving the room as if he was late for something. If you weren’t so busy scolding yourself you would have wondered if you had done something wrong to elicit that action from him.
#bucky x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#winter solider x reader#stalker!bucky#stalker!bucky x reader#winter soldier x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x y/n#dark!bucky barnes#dark!bucky x reader#Bucky Barnes#soft!bucky#bucky x reader#bucky fic#bucky imagines#marvel imagines#soft dark!bucky#bean writes
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Push
Warnings: noncon sex, oral, mentions of violence, abuse, and death.
This is Lee Bodecker (who is already dark!af) and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your daddy’s in business with the Sheriff but a dirty cop has not limits.
Note: This is my first Lee Bodecker fic. Obviously it’s a dark on so mind the warnings. Lee is just awful. Like what a bastard, the worst!
Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!
Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3
‘She said "I don't know if I've ever been good enough I'm a little bit rusty, and I think my head is caving in”’
-Push, Matchbox Twenty
🚔
You traced the small crack along the lip of the plate. The dinner set your mother had been so proud of was wearing away. Everything had started to since her death. The farmhouse seemed darker, more desolate amid the sentinel pines, your father's shed more sinister though the childhood tales of what was within had long since been dispelled. The walls shuddered with each gust of late autumn air.
The house was empty but for you. Your brothers were at about their usual business, Arn and Cal at work at yard and Will in his classes, though more likely bumming cigarettes behind the church. Your father had rumbled off in his old Ford pick-up not an hour ago but hadn't given you a reason. He never did and it was better that way. Better you didn't ask questions or speak out of turn. Focus on yourself, in the work that needed to be done as the men bustled in and out of your purview.
You set the plate on the mat to dry, a soapy bubble dripped down the back as you plunged your hand back into the water. You piled the dishes one after the other, scrubbing and scouring. The clink of the thick glass painted with faded petals and the old silverware was thunderous in the chilly kitchen.
You heard an engine, quieter than your father's cantankerous truck. The gravel mulched under the tires and you grabbed a rag to dry your hands as you walked through the front door. You peeked out the window as the cruiser pulled up; the old black and white with its blue and red crown.
Sheriff Bodecker came around maybe once every two weeks. You didn't keep track, you never spoke to him. Your daddy always took him to the shed for a beer and a chat. The uniform took a cut of the profits from your father's sill. The moonshine sold better than the beer sold at the store in town but wasn't allowed on the shelves. the lawman turned his eye for a percentage and the occasional jug of the brew.
You watched the sheriff brace himself against his door and lift himself out of the car. His jacket was zipped up against the impending winter but could barely contain his stomach. He reached into his car and plopped his hat on his head before he slammed the door. His boots were just as loud as his tires as he rounded the vehicle and paced towards your daddy's shed.
He turned back, hands on his hips, and peered across the empty lot. The big blue truck always greeted visitors, not that there were many. You watched the sheriff retreat and as he neared the porch, you let go of the curtain and pressed yourself to the door.
Your brothers and your father were the only people in your life. You minded the house and spent your spare time with one of your mama's old books or a needle and thread.
The door shook as he knocked. You blinked and slowly turned. You grabbed the handle but didn't pull. He must have known your daddy wasn't there. A fool could guess that.
He banged again and you twisted the knob. Slowly, you pulled the door open just a crack. You looked through with one eye as the sheriff felt around impatiently in his pockets.
"Daddy ain't here," you said quietly.
He tilted his head and grinned. He scoffed and ripped his hand out of his jacket.
"I guessed that. Be a shit officer if I couldn't," he snickered. "Pardon the language, miss."
"I don't know when he'll be back," you said.
"I got time," he checked his watch.
There was a moment of silence as he looked at you. You gulped, uncertain.
"Sorry, we don't get many visitors. Guess I should invite you in… I got coffee? Tea?"
He considered you through the inch between the frame and the door. "You gonna have to open up for that," he said, "you got anything sweet?"
"Some leftover cake from Arn's birthday. It's probably stale." You answered as he placed his hand flat on the door. "It's strawberry cream."
"Mm, you make it yourself?" He asked as his other hand rested on his belt.
"Mama's recipe," you explained.
"Well,” he pushed on the door, "Can I come in then or am I eatin' on the porch?"
You stared at him and slowly stepped back as he put more weight against the door. He dropped his arm as you were flush to the wall and he stepped inside. You looked at his boots as he pulled the door from your grasp and threw it shut behind him. He chuckled as he turned to you again and looked at his feet.
“Not meaning to mess up your floors, miss,” he wiped the treads on the mat.
“It’s fine. My brothers never did care much either,” you waved away his words and retreated, “I’ll get you that cake.”
You went to the kitchen and took the glass lid of the cake dish. That was your mother’s too. The long crack up the side made you want to cry. If she could see how the life she’d left behind had become so distorted. You took a plate from the mat and dried it before you laid it out. You cut a slice from the cake and carefully angled it onto the saucer.
“Should I put the kettle on?” You asked as you looked over your shoulder.
He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it over a chair before he sat. The wood groaned under him. He put his hat on the table decisively.
“You got milk? I had a coffee on the way.” He sat back in the chair and spread his legs wide.
“Milk,” you repeated as you neared and set the plate on the table then grabbed a fork from the drawer. You handed him the silver then went to the fridge, “Should be enough.”
You poured him a glass and put it down beside the plate as he greedily cut a bite out of the sponge with his fork. You went back to the sink and stuck your hands in the tepid water as you fished out the last few bowls and scrubbed them one at a time. You could hear him chewing behind you as the metal hit the porcelain with each bite.
“You really don’t entertain much, do you?” He asked.
“Sheriff?” you pulled the stopped and grabbed the dish towel to dry your hands.
“You know, I go ‘round folks’ houses and the wives, they smile, flip their hair, even excuse themselves to powder up,” he remarked, “And here you are doing your washing. Your back to me and everything.”
“I told my daddy I’d have ‘em done,” you shrugged. “Besides, I wasn’t expecting ya.”
“I rarely announce myself to shiners,” he rolled his eyes, “Must be quite the life, hmm? You cleaning up behind four boys. You look old enough to have a man of your own to worry about.”
“Maybe,” you wrung the dish towel.
“Most girls your age are outta their daddy’s house and settled down with a babe on their hip. Even two.” He said.
You frowned. “Well, Sheriff Bodecker, are you married?”
He squinted and tilted his head. He smirked and said ‘no’.
“You’re older than me. Maybe you’re the one who’s overdue.”
“Not too old,” he stabbed the last morsel of cake.
You turned away and grabbed a cup and wiped it dry. You went about drying each piece as he sat quietly. You sensed his gaze as you put away the dishes. The tension mounted as you snapped shut the cupboard and he tapped the plate with the fork.
You were relieved when you heard the gravel crunching outside. Your daddy was back. The putter of his old truck was a welcoming sound.
“That should be him,” you said as you went to the table and picked up his plate.
He set the fork atop it and grabbed your wrist before you could back away. “You take good care of a man.”
You swallowed and resisted the urge to pull away. “Not too many men can take care of themselves,” you uttered.
He laughed and let you go. He stood and you quickly scurried away to dump the plate in the sink. “Probably right,” he said as he took his jacket and pulled it on, “Definitely not in the ways a woman can take care of a man.”
You turned the faucet as the front door clattered. “Sherriff?” You father called down the hall, “You in here?”
“Here, Rhett,” He flipped his hat on and winked at you, “Son of a bitch, I’ve been waiting long enough.”
🚔
There was a cluster of brambles deep in the woods. A carpet of red, orange, and yellow leaves slowly wilted to brown beneath your feet as you climbed through the brush. You clutched your basket in one hand, your fingers cold even inside your gloves as the winter crept nearer with each day.
You were the old scarf with the uneven edges. The first one you knitted yourself after your mama had shown you how. Your fleece jacket was hand-me-down from Cal, the sleeves were too long and it puffed out from your body when you zipped it, an old oil stain along the left side. Your skirt, your own creation from two of your mama’s, hung to your knees, your stocking barely thick enough to keep out the chill. The heel of your right boot flopped as it threatened to fall off entirely and made the trek all the more treacherous.
You tossed walnuts into your basket every now and then if they weren’t crushed or caked in mud. The trees muffled all noise the deeper you got and the trees loomed darker above. You stopped at the overgrowth of leaves and vines. Blackberries and raspberries hung plump in the last harvest of the season. You preferred the wild berries to the grocers; they were larger and juicier.
You set down your basket as you pushed through the sharp, thin branches and began to pick. You knelt to grab those hidden at the bottom, dumping handfuls atop your collection of walnuts.
You heard a rustle behind you. Subtle, soft. More likely a deer than a bear. You peeked over your shoulder but didn’t give much heed to the disturbance. There was always some creature flitting around in the forest. You tuned back to your work, your gloves dappled with the dark juices of the berries as some were so soft the burst on touch.
The bushes behind you shook and a twig snapped.
“What you doing out here all alone? I thought you were a bear.”
You stood as you recognized the voice. You dropped the berries in your hand into the basket before you turned and clapped off your gloves. “I thought the same of you.” You blanched as you saw his gun in hand. “You hunting out here with that?”
Sheriff Bodecker looked down at his pistol and scoffed. “Maybe,” he looked up as he kept his gun in hand, “How you know about these berries?”
“They’re wild. There for the taking,” you turned back and pushed through the brambles as you plucked berries from the bunch, “Mama used to take us here when we we’re kids.”
“You lookin’ to make another cake?” His boots crushed the leaves and sticks as he neared.
“Conserves; jams,” you answered bluntly as your basket filled with each handful. “Too bad strawberries are all gone for the season.”
You sensed him watching you as you stooped again. He reached down to your basket and took a raspberry. He popped it in his mouth as he straightened. You glanced over, his gun was pointed at the ground but still in hand. He knocked it gently against his leg as if thinking.
“Tart,” he said, “I prefer strawberry. Sweeter.”
“Mmm,” you grumbled as you dug through the bush, “Well, they charge too much down at the grocer for ‘em.”
It was quiet but for you pushing past the bramble and filling your basket. You could hear him breathing above you as he watched, transfixed by your simple ritual.
“Never told me why you’re all the way out here,” you said as you contented yourself with your haul. “Should I be worried? Some criminal out here hiding in the branches?”
“Sitting by the river on my break, as I do,” he shrugged as you lifted your basket. “It’s a far way back to your daddies. My cruiser’s closer. I can take you home.”
“I prefer the walk. Gives me an excuse to be away.” You smiled and made to step past him.
“We can take our time,” he caught your arm.
“Thank you, Sheriff, but I can find my own way back.”
He turned you to him and raised his gun. His eyes searched your face as he pressed the muzzle to your cheek.
“Ain’t much on the first look but after a while, you’re not so bad,” he said as you stiffened, “If you didn’t dress like a matron, you might even be pretty.” His gun fell to the collar of the jacket. “Usually men don’t offer favours to girls who ain’t pretty.”
“Let go of me,” you pleaded softly, “Sheriff…”
He pointed his gun skyward and released you. He holstered the pistol and laughed to himself.
“You go on lift up that skirt and give me a good look. Then I’ll drive you back to your daddy’s. You have my word as an officer of the law.”
“Pardon--”
“Shhh,” his hand lingered on the pistol, playing with the little strap that would snap it into place, “No one needs to know. Just a peek.”
“Sheriff--”
“Girl,” he cleared his throat, “Ya gonna do what I tell you or I’m gonna make you do worse. Now go on.”
He snatched the basket out of your hand and you let out your breath, relieved at least that he no longer had his fingers on his pistol.
“It’s cold out--”
“You argue with your daddy this much? He don’t seem the type to bide it and let me tell you, he seems a lot more tolerant than me.” He took another berry and chewed it, “So lift your skirt and we’ll be on our way.”
You stared at him. He smirked and licked the dark juice away from his lip. You hands shook as you bent and clumsily felt your skirt. You gathered the hem and stood. You bunched up the fabric around the bottom of the coat and he tutted in satisfaction.
“Turn around for me, girl,” he softly swung the basket, “Bend over so I can get a nice look at you.”
“Sher--”
“I really don’t wanna knock ya around and you don’t want that either,” he warned. “Two seconds. That’s all it will take.”
You gulped as bile burned your throat. You turned, careful not to catch the loose heel of your boot, and held your breath. You bent forward slowly.
“Further,” he ordered. The thin cotton of your underwear stretched across your ass. “Well, you got a much nicer backside than I expected.”
You let out a sharp breath as he pinched your ass and you stood suddenly. You stumbled forward and dropped your skirts. He laughed as you spun to face him. He shoved the basket against your chest.
“See how easy that was,” he leered at you as you took the basket. “Who you hidin’ that body from? Maybe your daddy’s a selfish man, hmmm? Keeping you from all the men.”
“Can we go?” You muttered as you tried to hide behind the basket.
His blue eyes bore into yours and he shifted on his feet. His hand rubbed the front of his pants as he side stepped you.
“Sure, cruisers ‘round the bend.” He waved you past him and waited. “Come on, you said you wanted to go.”
You walked past him along the trail and he followed, close as his loud breaths filled the air. He pointed you down the path with curt orders and you came into sight of the broad river. His car was parked just off the sideroad that led back to the town.
His keys jingled as he brushed by you, dragging his hand across your rear as he did. He opened the passenger door and looked at you. You neared and quickly got in, sitting on the long seat within. He closed the door harshly and rounded to the other side. The car dipped with his weight and he shoved the keys in the slot.
“Come here,” he gestured with two fingers, “Closer.”
“What?”
“Put the berries down,” he pointed to the other side of you and you placed the basket on the seat.
“I should be home sooner than later. I gotta start cooking--”
“I’ll get you there,” he grabbed your arm and slid you over the seat. He flipped his hat off and dropped it over the basket. He slung his arm over your shoulders. “Go on, put me in first.”
He gripped the wheel with his other hand and you blinked dumbly. You realised what he meant and pushed the shifted into gear.
“You cold? You’re shivering,” He said as he carefully turned the car, “Just tryna warm you up, girl.”
“I’m fine,” you crossed your arms as he drove at a snail's pace up the dirt road.
“I’m cold,” he gave an exaggerated ‘brrr’, “Do me a favour. Unzip me.”
“What?” You tried to pull away and he bent his arm around your neck, his hand along your chest as your head was nearly on his.
“I’m hard as fuck. You did that. Now take care of it.” He growled. “Get these damn pant unzipped and finish it.”
“Let go--”
“You don’t start listening and I’ll tell you’re daddy what a whore you are. Up in the woods flaunting your ass to the wind.”
You stared down at your stitched skirt. Your mama’s. You only wore her clothes. They were modest. You’d once worn a dress your friend Laverne had given you, more modern, with a shorter skirt. Your daddy belted you until it was ruined.
Your hands trembled as you felt along the Sheriff’s stomach and fumbled beneath. You unbuckled his belt clumsily and found his fly ready to burst. You pushed his zipper down as he groaned and he lifted his arm over the seat. His underwear was tight to his bulging cock.
“Now don’t keep wastin’ my time and take me out,” he snarled.
You pulled the elastic down and he popped out above it. You hesitated as you stared at his throbbing tip.
“I don’t… I don’t know what to do.” You confessed.
“Christ, girl,” he snickered, “Grab it and just… move your hand.”
You shuddered and wrapped your fingers around his cock. It was as thick as the rest of him. You gripped it but still had no idea what to do next.
“Up and down. Like your polishing a shotgun,” he urged, “A nice long barrel.” You bit down and slid your hand along his length. “Tighter,” he gritted through his teeth, “Faster…”
He purred as you played with him. He drove a little faster and steered with one hand as his other hand clawed the back of the seat.
“Fuckin’ don’t know, girl, feels like you know exactly what to you,” he uttered, “Got me close already.”
You stared at the middle of the steering wheel, the silver emblem, and tried not to think about what you were doing. His hand fell to your back and he caressed the back of your coat. He grasped the cloth in his fist as his grunts grew louder and longer.
“Grab that coffee cup,” he demanded, “Go on, you don’t wanna make a mess.”
You took the cup with one hand and popped the top off with your thumb. It flew onto the floor and he hummed.
“Hold it at the tip, before--” He choked on his words and you quickly moved the cup.
He hit the brake and white ribbons streamed from his cock and laced the rim of the cup and your fingers. White globs slid down the paper and you slowed as a chill went through you. You pulled away your slimy hand and the cup. He took the latter and tossed it out the window and sighed.
“Shit, girl, that was good,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. He wiped his glistening cock before covering himself up and zipping up his pants. “Get cleaned up.” He tossed the cloth on your lap, “Not far from home, now.”
🚔
Your days passed like molasses. Ever since your venture into the forest, your life slowed to an interminable pace. Your thoughts were darkened by the sheriff’s shadow. You scrubbed, scoured, and swept but could not rid yourself of the memory. The scene played over and over in your head. You swore you could feel him still spread across the palm of your hand.
A week after, when he drove up behind the boys on their return from town, you watched through the window in dread. Cal, Arn, and Will hopped out of the truck and greeted the sheriff. The four of them went to the shed where your daddy was, the latter peeked over at the house as he passed.
You were reassured that your brothers were there. The sheriff wouldn’t, really couldn’t, try anything more. You went back to basting the thick chops. As you made to cap your homemade sauce, the back door opened and your daddy looked in from the mud room.
“You bring out some glasses for the lot of us. And put an extra chop on for the sheriff,” your father slurred. He’d already started drinking. “He be joining us tonight.”
He left before you could respond. He usually drank his swill out of old jars and saved your mother’s dishes. You coated another chop in spice and set it with the rest before slipping them in the oven. You washed your hands and counted out five glasses. You hugged them in your arms and stepped into your boots.
You pushed the screen door open with your elbow and tramped down the steps. You crossed to the shed and kicked the door with your boot. “Daddy,” you called through the wood.
Will slid open the shed door and you stepped inside. You went to the table and placed the glasses down on the old chipped surface. You stood and looked around. Your father filled each with the clear shine from a large jar.
“Isn’t he a bit young?” You said as Will sat back down.
“Not your business, woman,” your daddy spat, “Go back in the house. To your business.”
“Yes, daddy.” You sniffed and looked at Will. He gave an apologetic smile but none of your brothers ever stood up against your daddy.
“Lady not joining us?” Bodecker asked.
“Ha, that girl gets a whiff of this stuff and she’d be on her back. This ain’t no drink for ladies,” your daddy chortled. “About time you tried it. What you been doin’ will all that swill I give ya.”
“Boys at the station like it. I think they’re some of your best customers, ain’t they?” Bodecker countered. “Besides, I been tryna stay clear of the drink.”
“One night won’t hurt,” your daddy coaxed.
You went back to the door and slid it shut behind you as the men continued to chatter. Well, they would at least drink themselves too senseless to bother you much.
🚔
You cleared the table of the empty plates and scraps left by the drunken men. They had been loud and raucous, so much so you’d eaten your dinner at the counter to avoid them. When they finished, they left in a stumble, though the sheriff seemed as steady as ever as he trailed behind. He stopped at the door as he held it and peered back from the mud room at you.
You washed the dishes and put them away. You wiped down the table and fixed the chairs around it. The night was moonless and eerie. The wind wailed and shook each window and door in the house as it seemed to blow right through the walls.
The mud room door clattered again. It had been over an hour since the men returned to the shed. Their voices no longer carried in the air but the shed remained alight from within. You turned as Bodecker closed the door. He carried a tall glass of swill as he stopped in the door frame.
“Lightweights,” he said, “All your men passed out. Think one of ‘em pissed in their pants.”
“You’re drunk,” you said as you kept behind the table.
“Not really. I couldn’t finish mine,” he crossed to the other side of the table and set down the glass, “Why don’t you finish it for me?”
“I don’t drink that stuff,” you said, “Dump it out on the grass.”
“You work so hard. You should have a little fun,” he rounded the table and slid the glass across it as he neared, “Come on. Have a drink.”
“I don’t--” He grabbed you suddenly, wrestled you down into a chair and held you there by your shoulders.
He lifted one hand and felt around his belt. He flicked his holster open and rubbed the pistol with his thumb.
“Drink it.” You watched his hand on his gun. He slid it out just a little. “Ugly things men do when they drinking. “Playing with guns… sometimes don’t always end up so fun. Don’t think the young one would make it in the hold.”
“No, you--”
“Drink,” he sneered. “It’ll loosen you up.”
You reached for the glass and he nodded. He snapped his holster closed and pulled a chair over to sit in front of you. You put your lips to the edge of the glass and the alcohol stung your nostrils. You tipped it, slowly, and tasted it with a gag. It was vile, stringent, and fiery. He pushed it up with two fingers until you were choking on it. He didn’t let up until the glass was empty and the shine dripped down your chin.
You slammed the glass down and coughed. You touched your throat as your head spun and a warmth nestled in your cheeks. You tried to shake away the haze that washed over you.
“That’s it, girl,” he purred as he leaned forward, “You feel better, don’t you?”
“N-no,” you stammered as you gripped the chair.
“’Daddy’,” he said, “Girl, you had me hard in there… you too old to be callin’ that man, daddy.” He stood and shrugged off his leather jacket, “But you be right to call me daddy.”
“I don’t feel…” Your stomach burned and you tried to stand. You stumbled and he caught you.
“Don’t you get all jumpy on me, girl,” he sat you back down. “You gonna hurt yourself.”
You slumped in the chair and braced your head. You felt terribly dizzy and your inside were alight. You heard a jingle and looked up as Bodecker unzipped his pants. You recalled the day in the car and filled with panic. You stood again and this time staggered, falling onto your knees with a cry.
“Mmm, it’s okay, girl, you can stay down there,” You looked up as he pulled his cock out through the vee of his pants, “Come here.” He grabbed your chin and yanked you forward, “Open up.”
You snapped your mouth shut and tried to wriggle free of his grasp. His other hand came up behind your head and he pulled you close. His fingers spread across your head and he used his other hand to poke his cock against your lips.
“I’ll break that pretty little jaw of yours and tell your pa he did it,” he growled, “Now come on.” You shook your head and he slapped you, hard. He seized you again. “Open!”
Your mouth fell open and your vision blurred as he shoved his cock inside. He forced himself down your throat and you kicked your feet as you grabbed at the front of his pants. He groaned and held his cock at its limit.
“And I thought you were good with your hands,” he pulled back and thrust back in. Your eyes rolled back as they teared up and you choked. “Mmm, much better.”
He started slow at first, though each tilt of his hips was relentless, deep and painful. You struggled to breathe around him and it only seemed to feed his lust. He gripped your head between his hand as he fucked your mouth, the sloppy sounds made your head swim as the slobber leaked down your chin and his shaft.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pulled out of you suddenly and shoved you away. You fell back onto your ass and wiped your mouth. “You tryna end this night early or something.”
He let out a breath and watched his cock bob before him as he grunted.
“Get up and get your drawers off.” He ordered, “Then I want you like you was in the woods, huh? Skirt up.”
You wavered as you tried to climb to your feet. He caught your errant arm and pulled you up. He spun you and you swayed. He bent and his hands crawled up your skirt as he felt around. He ripped your underwear down and let them rest at your ankles. He turned you to the chair and pushed you forward. You fell and caught yourself against the seat. He threw your skirt up and bared your ass.
Your legs quaked as he pressed his hand between your legs and felt around. He rubbed your cunt as you squeezed him with your thighs. He pinched you and drew away.
“You don’t wanna make this harder than it needs to be girl,” he sneered, “You’re in no state for that.”
He stepped closer and bent over you. His arm wrapped around your middle as he felt around below you with his other hand. He caught the tip of his cock and guided it to your cunt. He pushed it along your folds, sliding it up and down until he found your entrance. You whimpered and pushed back against him, too weak to break free.
“You fight and it’ll hurt more,” he grunted as he pushed his tip into you and you yelped. “Fuck, you’re tight.” Another inch and he stopped as he took a breath, “Holy hell, girl, you really weren’t lying. You ain’t been touched.”
He growled and inhaled the scent of your hair as his hand gripped the chair next to yours. He thrust into you in a single tilt and you exclaimed as he stretched your walls. You reached to the back of the chair and latched onto the crossbar as you tried not to sob.
He stood, slowly and pushed deeper into you as he grabbed your hip. His other hand kneaded your ass as he began to rock. His groans were as steady as his motion as he dipped in and out of you. He curled his fingers and dug his nails into your flesh as he panted, his stomach bouncing against your ass.
“Be as loud as you want, girl,” he barked, “No one gonna hear you.”
He rutted into as the chair shifted below you. He kept a hand on your hip as his other trailed up to your shoulder and he arched your back. His zipper bit into your flesh as he sped up, slapping against you harder and harder as you whined louder and louder. It hurt terribly and your entire being thrummed with an unknown sensation.
You closed your eyes as your vision swirled and your arms shook. He pulled you back so you stood against him, your back curved as he hammered into you. You were on tiptoes as he didn’t let up and turned you against the table. Your fingertips brushed the top as you reached out blindly and his hand stretched across your neck as he forced your head back against his shoulder.
“I’m gonna cum, girl,” he hissed, “You fucking whore. You’re going to make me cu--”
He grunted and his hips spasmed as a warmth seeped into you. He gave several, final snaps of his hip and slowed. He fell forward with you bent beneath him against the table. Your legs were limp as he crushed you with his weight. His heart pounded through his chest and he gasped for breath.
You sniffed and pushed back against him. You were suffocating. You needed him off of you. You needed him out of you.
“We ain’t done yet,” he hooked his arm around you and pulled you back to sit on his lap as he fell into the chair. “You got two minutes to get me hard again or you can clean me up with your mouth.”
#lee bodecker#dark!fic#lee bodecker x reader#dark!lee bodecker#dark lee bodecker#dark fic#fic#one shot#the devil all the time
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remember me // colby brock (pt 2)
A/N: as i mentioned before in a different post, this took me FOREVER to write. i loved writing this story but something about it just made me drag it out for so long. nonetheless, i love this and i'm excited to see what you all think. please lmk what you thought about this. thank you to everyone that has supported me and sent me kind messages. yall are the best ! hope you enjoy :) also lmk if you want another part...
prompt: she's the only one that remembers colby, or so they both thought.
trigger warning: ANGST, heartbreak, AU mention, friendship problems, cursing, happy-ish ending (but not the end...?), kissing
word count: 5526
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Colby was relieved that the waitress, the only one that remembered him, decided to help. The moment she agreed, Colby gave her his number and left. She texted him not too long after, and he realized for a moment she never said her name. He planned to ask her the next day when they decided to meet up at his place.
It was weird to come back to his apartment, knowing that down the hall his best friend, his brother, lived there and didn't know who he was. Usually when Colby felt lonely, he would walk down the hall to Sam's and hang out for a bit. It was always nice to talk to Sam about anything and everything.
But now... he couldn't do that.
Colby tried to sleep during the night, but barely any rest came from it. He tossed and turned, hoping that when he would wake up, this would all just be some weird-ass nightmare.
When his cell phone rang the next morning at 9:34 A.M., it was an unfamiliar ringtone. As he rubbed his eyes awake, he glanced at the caller, the name 'Waitress' appearing on his screen.
I guess this wasn’t a dream after all.
"Yeah?" Colby groaned, squinting his eyes at the sunlight.
Her voice came through cheery, the tone too loud in Colby’s ears. “Let me up to your apartment. I'm here.”
He cleared his throat. “This early?”
“I figured you would want your normal life back as soon as possible, yeah?” She sassed.
He rolled his eyes. “Alright, give me a second. I'll come down and get you.”
Colby stumbled out of bed, running his fingers through his hair as he threw on a random shirt and jeans, slowly trudging down to the lobby of his apartment. She sat on a couch, tapping her foot against the carpeted floors. Her eyes were staring out the door, almost like she was looking at someone. When she heard Colby’s footsteps, her gaze pulled away from outside.
“Did I wake you?” She frowned, grabbing her bag next to her and standing up.
He shook his head. “You can't really be woken up if you barely slept.”
“I'm sorry to hear that.” She lightly bit her lip, following Colby to the elevator.
He shrugged tiredly. “It's okay.”
They both slowly got into the elevator, climbing up to Colby's floor. The loud 'ding' of the elevator broke their silence moments later. They walked to Colby's apartment, and he unlocked his door quickly.
She whistled quietly. “Woah, nice place.”
A half smile spread across Colby’s face. “Thanks.”
“No offense, but how do you pay for this place if you're not a social media person?” She questioned, stepping into the kitchen.
He raised an eyebrow. “That's... a good question. From what my mom told me over the phone yesterday, I worked all throughout high school and college, so maybe it's from that?”
“You only worked at Dairy Queen while you were in high school. You must have gotten a better job in college because there is no way you can afford this place.” She disagreed.
Colby smirked. “How'd you know I worked at Dairy Queen?”
“Well, for starters, my friend told me. And also, I did some research about you. But I'll get to that in a second.” She continued, her voice falling to a serious tone, “So... would you like to hear my theories?”
“Theories?” He puzzled.
“As to why everyone forgot about you.” The waitress explained.
Colby sat down on his barstool, exhaling. “Let's hear it.”
“Okay. For argument sakes, you're gonna have to just go with me on this. Because otherwise, I literally have no way to help you.” She started, already pacing slightly.
He cautioned. “...okay?”
“So last night, I tried to think of a reason why everyone would collectively forget about you. And the only conclusion I could come up with is that you're in an alternative universe.” She hypothesized.
Colby’s eyes widened, bugging out of his head. “A what?”
“An alternative universe. Basically, everything is pretty much the same in your life, except a few minor details,” she revealed. “That’s why you still live in this apartment, but you didn’t get here the same way you did in your other life, your real life.”
“This... it's way too early for this.” He grumbled, astonished.
She sighed, her hands resting on her hips. “The only other option is that this is a very long-winded prank that your friends are still pulling on you. Have you tried talking to any of your other friends besides Sam?”
“No, everyone else’s number is gone in my phone, which I can only assume means they don’t know me either.” Colby retorted. Then he took a deep breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “But, this doesn't make sense. How did I end up here if this isn't my life?”
“I’m not sure how you got here, but I think you’re here for a specific reason. I think you’re here to right a wrong that this Colby Brock did. I’m just… not entirely sure what that wrong might be.” She answered, unsure.
He huffed. “Okay… what am I supposed to do then? Stay here and hope we figure that out soon? I don't even know who I am in this universe.”
“And that's where my research comes into play.” She pulled a laptop from her bag quickly, placing it down on the counter and opening it. She scrolled through her browsers until she came across Colby's Facebook, which surprisingly looked active for someone who hadn't been personally on it in years.
I use Facebook? Gross.
“First, I started by seeing if you and Sam were friends on here, but that didn’t amount to much since Sam doesn’t have a Facebook. However, what I found out is that you and Sam did live in the same town, go to the same high school, and played in the same marching band. Sam talked about his early years before he was ‘famous’ in one of the first videos he posted, and I crossed referenced that with your profile and it all matches up.” She informed.
“That's strange,” he mumbled. “What did we do after high school?”
She stated. “You went off to college and majored in Business Management with a minor in Philosophy. You graduated early too.”
Me? Graduating early? I couldn’t even get through math without Sam’s help.
“What did Sam do?” He asked.
The waitress scrolled to another tab, opening it to show a search of Sam. “Well, a very quick Google search shows that he actually went to the same college as you but dropped out once his Vine career started to pick up. Then he went on to Musical.ly when Vine died. He moved out to LA in 2017 and started a YouTube channel after he met Katrina, and slowly met all of his- your, friends that way. He got a bump of followers once he started dating Kat because of her following.”
Colby’s mouth gaped at her words. “That can't be true. He would have never wanted that. I mean, I had to convince him that we should be on social media so that we could spread our message. Plus, he hates those channels that use their relationship for views.”
“Not this version of Sam. Or at least, it doesn't seem like it.” She commented.
He covered his face, groaning into his hands. “What the hell am I here for? What wrong have I done in this universe?”
Her voice low, she replied. “I think it might have to do with Sam.”
“But... he doesn't know me.” He dissented, sitting up.
She nodded. “I thought so too. However, after scrolling through all of your public photos, I found this.”
Colby squinted at the screen, an old photo of him and Sam stared back. They looked super young, probably sophomores in high school. They were both smiling, laughing at something. He vaguely remembered this day.
“So, we did know each other.” He bit his lip softly.
She hummed. “Yeah. And weirdly, it’s the only photo of the two of you on your profile. But it’s not the only strange thing.”
Scrolling to a different tab, she pulled up an old tweet of Sam’s. It read ‘Never thought you would be the one to hurt me. But I guess everyone can be surprising.’
Colby noted the date. “That was back in high school.”
“Yeah, and there’s a bunch like them. He talks about being betrayed and someone hurting him deeply. He never mentions, of course. But his tweets line up with some that you were tweeting at the same time.” She confessed.
The waitress clicked on a different tab and another tweet showed up, one from Colby’s account. He gazed at it, reading the words ‘If you hate me… imagine how I feel about myself.’
Colby’s face dropped. “Wait, what?”
“You don’t tweet that often, but when you do, you talk about righting wrongs and fixing things you fucked up.” She added, “You also hate on yourself a lot.”
He doubted, crossing his arms. “You think they’re connected?”
“I do. I think in this universe you fucked up somehow and hurt Sam. And I think you are here now to fix what the other you did.” She explained.
He ranted. “This is all so fucked! When I saw him yesterday, he acted like he didn’t even know me. How am I supposed to even go about this? What, do I just go down the hall and apologize for something I don’t even remember doing?”
“No. Sam's not in his apartment anyway. I saw him leave while I was waiting for you.” She mentioned nonchalantly.
He grunted. “Great, he could be anywhere in LA right now.”
“I know exactly where he is.” She smirked.
“What? How?” He questioned.
The waitress divulged. “This version of Sam has a favorite restaurant he goes to all the time. A lot of his fans know about it, thus one look through any of his fan accounts and you'll see it. It's called ‘Paradise’.”
“Sounds like a strip club.” Colby deadpanned.
She pouted. “It's not. But he goes there all the time, and I got us a table there last minute.”
“What exactly are we gonna do when we get there?” He crossed his arms.
“I was planning on going up to his table and talking to him, maybe asking him about you, see how he reacts.” She described.
Colby furrowed his brow, confused. “And what about me?”
She slid her laptop into her bag, zipping it up hastily. “Well… I didn’t really think that far ahead. But hopefully, whatever you did is forgivable, and we can just fix it right there.”
He murmured. “That's a lot to hope for.”
“It's better than sitting here and wasting daylight.” She grabbed her stuff and headed for the door. Colby followed suit, grabbing his keys.
He spoke as he locked his door. “What if this doesn’t work?”
She turned back to him. “It will. It has to.”
~~~
Paradise was a themed restaurant, which Colby thought was strange because his Sam never really liked those types of restaurants. The theme was nice, however, tropical and Hawaiian. It felt like something he, Sam, and a few friends would have gone to after a fun, drunk night.
As Colby and the waitress were escorted to their table, they both kept an eye out for Sam, glancing around nervously for the blonde boy.
“I think the worst thing about this universe version of me is how messy my car is,” Colby joked. “It’s like I live out of it.”
She shrugged, smiling. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“You should see my real car. My honey wagon is spotless.” He expressed, waving his hand.
“Honey wagon?” She queried.
“Long story,” he chuckled. Then abruptly, he gasped. “Holy shit, I just realized I never got your name.”
She cocked her head. “What? I never told you?”
He blinked. “No.”
She started. “It's-”
“Hi, I'm Tony, I'll be your server for today. Can I get you something to drink to start you guys off?” Tony greeted, cutting her off.
“Yeah, sure. A water for me.” She blurted out.
Colby added. “Coke, please.”
Tony smiled. “Okay, coming right up.”
Once Tony left, the waitress started scoping out for Sam again, her eyes widening once she saw him.
Her body stiffened, turning back to Colby. “He's over there, three tables down to your left.”
Colby gazed over his shoulder at his friend. Sam looked lost in thought, staring at his phone as he ate his food.
“Why is he alone?” He muttered.
“From some of the blogs I read, he likes to go out and eat by himself. Also, apparently, him and Kat are on the rocks.” She admitted.
“They love each other so much, it's kinda gross to be around them sometimes,” He quipped, but shook his head. “So to hear that...”
“I'm gonna head over.” She announced quickly.
Before he could speak, she left the booth. Colby watched her walk over to Sam, listening closely to their conversation as he ducked his head down.
“Hey... sorry to bother you, but are you Sam Golbach?” She asked sweetly.
“Yeah I am. Did you want something?” Sam stared blankly at her.
“Um, yeah?” She almost scoffed at his tone. “I’m a huge fan and I know this might be a weird question, but do you know someone named Colby Brock?”
Sam’s face remained stoic, but his eyes intensified. “No, I've never heard of that name before.”
“Are you sure, because I'm pretty certain that you and him are best friends.” She insisted.
He raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”
Colby watched nervously as she pulled out her phone and showed Sam the photo. Sam scrunched up his face, his eyes scanning the image. “Yeah, no. Still don’t know who he is. What was his name again?”
“Colby Brock.” She stated.
“...Sorry. I’ve never heard a name like that before.” He mumbled, almost inaudibly. “Sounds stupid anyway.”
She cocked her head. “Wait, what?”
Colby clenched his fist, unable to hear this conversation any longer. He needed to come face-to-face with Sam. He slid out of his seat, walking hastily over to Sam and the waitress. Sam’s eyes narrowed as he gaped at Colby.
“Sam…” Colby started.
Sam growled. “Are you fucking serious, Colby? Did you really have to get one of my fans involved?”
“What?” Colby puzzled.
Sam jumped out of his seat, grabbing Colby’s arm and pulling him out of the restaurant. The waitress followed behind them, confused just as much as Colby. Sam’s feet stopped behind the back door of the building, turning to Colby without warning.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Sam barked.
Colby stepped back, surprised by Sam’s anger. “...Uh, I don’t know what you mean by that.”
Sam scoffed. “Why the fuck are you here? After all this time?”
“So, you do remember me.” Colby remarked.
“Yeah, I do. When you showed up at my place yesterday, it took me a minute to realize it was you, since you decided to dress up like a Hot Topic employee, but yeah, I knew it was you. Are you really gonna pretend in front of her that we don’t know each other?” Sam teared his eyes away from Colby’s, staring at the waitress suddenly. “Let me guess, he hasn’t told you the whole story, right?”
“I guess not.” She shrugged uncomfortably.
Sam chuckled darkly. “Of course not. If he told the whole story, he would have to admit he was an asshole, and God knows he’s not gonna do that.”
“What are you talking about?” Colby panted.
“Do you not remember? Well, I’ll give you a refresher. You and I became friends freshman year of high school. You were my best friend and I was yours. I trusted you. I trusted you with a lot of shit that I’ve never told anyone. Senior year of high school, right before we were about to graduate, right as we were starting a social media career, suddenly you don’t want anything to do with me; which would have been bad enough, but then I go and find out you and my girlfriend were hooking up behind my back,” Sam snapped, catching his breath for a moment. “So yeah, I remember you, Colby.”
Colby’s mouth fell open, his breathing speeding up.
None of this sounds like me. I would never hurt Sam like that.
“And now, you have the fucking audacity to show up when everything in my life is going great and I’m succeeding. I have fans, friends, and a girlfriend that all love and care about me, and you’re here trying to what? Stir up drama? Get some clout from me?” He demanded.
“If your friends and girlfriend love you, why are you eating all alone?” The waitress jeered.
Sam glared at her, biting his tongue. “And you made one of my fans hate me. Dope, dude.”
“Sam, look; I’m sorry for what I did. But that was years ago. I’m not who I was back then.” Colby choked out.
“I don’t care. I don’t want you in my life. Do you not understand what you did to me?” Sam persisted.
“I know I was an asshole, and I apologize for ever hurting you like that. But I miss you, and I want to work things out. Let me prove to you that I’m better.” He trembled, getting closer to Sam.
Sam backed up, blocking Colby. “No. No! You don’t get to miss me. You don’t get to miss a relationship you fucked up. It took me years to trust again. Hell, I’m still going through it. You don’t get to decide whether or not you’re in my life. Not anymore.”
“Sam… please.” Colby whimpered.
“Don’t show up at my place again. Don’t talk to my fans about me. Don’t act like you care about me. Because I’m done,” Sam stared into Colby’s eyes before going back into the restaurant. “I don’t care about you. Fuck off forever and leave me alone.”
Sam’s words punched Colby hard, taking the breath out of him instantly. He caught himself against the wall, his legs turning to gelatin under his weight.
He stuttered. “I… gotta leave. I-I have to…”
“Colby, relax. It’s gonna be okay.” She grabbed his hand.
He shook off her embrace. “What? No it’s not! Did you not hear what he said? Why would he want to be friends with a piece of shit like me?!”
“You were eighteen when this all happened. Give yourself a break.” She argued.
“No. I’m fucking terrible. This version of me is terrible. Of course he doesn’t want to be friends with me! I don’t even want to be me.” His voice quivered with anger, his body racing away from her.
She furrowed her brows, trying to keep up with him. “Where are you going?”
“I just need to leave. I can’t be here right now!” He grunted, his pace picking up.
She called after him, but Colby didn’t care. His heart slammed against his chest over and over again. Tears weld up into his eyes, blurring his vision as he began to run. He wanted to keep running until his legs gave out, until he couldn’t remember all the words Sam had said to him.
It dawned to Colby how much worse this universe was.
He wasn’t just stuck in a universe where Sam didn’t know him.
He was stuck in a universe where Sam didn’t want to know him.
In a universe where Sam didn’t love him.
And he had no way of escaping.
Colby must have blacked out while he ran, somehow maintaining to stay upright, because once his thoughts started to subside, and his body basically gave out under him, he noticed he was in a part of LA he had never been before. Some random neighborhood that was unfamiliar.
He shoved his body up against a metal telephone pole, sliding down to the ground. He tried catching his breath, gulping back breaths as he forced down the nausea overwhelming his senses. He wiped his face with his sleeve, feeling more tears rush down his cheeks.
His throat and chest burned with each sharp inhale. He whimpered into his hands, covering his face from the slowly retreating sun.
He slid his phone out of his pocket once he caught his breath, calling the only number he knew.
“Hey honey. What’s up?” His mom’s voice rang back sweetly.
Colby’s voice was monotone, exhausted. “You know who Sam is, don’t you?”
The line went quiet for a moment, all Colby could hear was her light breath.
“You told me not to talk about him. After you two stopped being friends, you said you never wanted to hear his name again.” She exhaled deeply, “I was taken aback when you asked about him yesterday.”
“He’s out here… in LA.” He responded.
She gasped lightly. “Did you run into him?”
He laughed bitterly. “You could say that.”
“Oh, Colby. I’m so sorry.” His mother consoled.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about, mama. I just…” Colby trailed off, unable to explain.
“Why don’t you come home this weekend?” She offered. “I miss you, you know.”
“I would love to. But…” His chest heaved as hot tears drifted down his cheeks. “That’s not my home.”
“Nonsense. You will always have a home here.” She assured him, her voice almost trembling.
He wiped a fallen tear, a broken smile coming to his face. “That’s good to know. I love you.”
She hummed. “I love you too, baby. Call me again soon.”
“I will. Bye.” He uttered breathlessly.
The sky was getting darker and darker, and Colby remained against the phone pole. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but suddenly his phone vibrated, a new message from ‘Waitress’ asking where he was. He sent his location, and she arrived twenty minutes later in his car. He stood up, stumbling to his passenger door. His legs were weak from the sprinting he had just done. As he got in, the cool AC blasted the sweat and tears off his face.
They didn’t speak, a quiet radio station playing in the background the only sound. She drove through the hills of LA, eventually hitting a peak. She parked the car as it overlooked LA, the lights looking like stars on the horizon.
She got out a minute later, walking over to the hood and leaning against it. He could see something in her hand but didn’t recognize it. Colby sat in the car by himself, not able to physically move his body from how exhausted he felt. Eventually, he achingly stepped out of the car, sitting next to her on the hood.
“I’m fucked.” Colby breathed.
She started. “I don’t think-”
“Please don’t try to make me feel better. I know you mean well, but I am fucked,” he rebutted, his voice dark. “I’m stuck here, in this universe, where Sam hates me. And as if that weren’t bad enough, I did terrible things, things I know I would never do to him. How the fuck am I supposed to apologize for those mistakes? I wouldn’t take him back if the roles were reversed.”
“Read this.” The waitress stated, handing him a journal.
He glanced down at the leather-bound book, slightly faded from years of writing. He unclicked the lock and opened it, looking down at the pages. It was his, a journal full of writings he had done.
“Where did you get this?” He inquired.
“You were right about your car being messy. But you’d be surprised what you fine if you just look.” She teased.
Colby read over the words, the first entry catching his eye. It was dated a year after him and Sam had graduated high school.
Sam is succeeding without me. I knew he would. He was always so smart when it came to business decisions. He just hit 10k followers on Vine. That’s crazy!
“What the hell is this?” Colby questioned.
She answered quickly. “This whole journal was you keeping up with Sam without him knowing. This version of you always paid attention to what he was doing, even if you guys were no longer friends.”
“I’m obsessed with Sam? That’s great.” He deadpanned.
“You’re not obsessed with Sam. Read this entry.” She skipped a handful of pages, finally stopping on one and showing it to him.
I hate myself everyday for the hurt I caused Sam. I can’t believe what an idiot I was back when I was 18. We could have gone so far together… but I had to go and fuck it up.
He scowled. “Am I supposed to be sad for myself?”
“Keep reading.” She pushed.
The night I chose to never speak to Sam again, I knew I made the wrong decision. But I had to. Sam was ready to go on and do bigger and better things. I was just gonna hold him back. I was terrified of failing, not only myself, but him. He deserves success. That’s why I had to ignore him. I have never been as smart as him. I would have ruined our chances of doing something great. And I have been proven right by how far he has gone without me.
“You stopped being his friend because you were scared, not because you didn’t care anymore.” She repeated.
He slid off the car, scoffing. “So what if I was scared to fail? Sam didn’t deserve the hurt I caused just because of that. And what about me cheating with his girlfriend?”
She jumped off the car, striding up to Colby. She grabbed the journal from his hand. “You didn’t cheat, look.”
She pointed at the bottom of the page, his eyes following her finger.
“Me and Lexi were never together! I hate her for telling him that. One night, they had a really big fight and she came over to my house to ask what she should do. I told her to break up with him if she really didn’t care anymore. And then she tried to hit on me. I told her off and threatened to tell Sam, but she got to him first. She must have told him her and I were together.” The waitress read aloud.
“Wait, if I never hooked up with his girlfriend, why wouldn’t I tell him that?” Colby hissed.
“I think at that point, you wanted the friendship to be over, and I think this solidified it.” The waitress responded.
“All this time I could have been friends with Sam, but I ruined it because I was scared? What a fucking idiot.” He spat.
“You weren’t an idiot,” She interjected. “You just disliked yourself so much you didn’t think you deserved happiness. At least now you know that this version of you isn’t as terrible as you thought.”
“Even with that being the case, Sam’s never gonna accept my apology. Why should he?” Colby lamented, “I let him down the worst ways. I broke his trust and loyalty.”
She shook her head, stepping towards him. “Give him some time. You might be surprised."
Before Colby could speak, his phone rang. He took his phone out of his pocket and looked at the number. It looked familiar, but he couldn’t place it.
“Hello?” He answered.
“Did you really mean it when you said you were sorry?” Sam spoke, his tone hesitant, but dry.
His breath hitched at the sound of Sam’s voice. “Of course. I never meant to hurt you, Sam.”
Sam paused for a moment, before breathing out. “I’m giving you one more chance. Tomorrow. Come by my place. You apparently know where I live.”
“Yeah,” Colby laughed awkwardly. “I’ll come by. Thank you… Sam.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I’ll see you later.” Sam stated, hanging up.
Once the call ended, Colby’s eyes stared down at his phone widely. He almost couldn’t believe that happened.
He inhaled sharply. “Sam just called me. He wants to meet me tomorrow.”
“That’s great.” Her voice just above a whisper.
“He wants to hear me out… he wants to give me another chance.” His face dropped with confusion. “How did he get my number?”
It hit Colby like a brick as he gazed up at the waitress, who bit her lip hiding her smile. “You…?”
“You weren’t the first person I showed the journal to,” she explained. “When you ran off, I was gonna go after you. As I got in your car, I saw this journal sticking out from under your seat. I read through it and… I knew I had to show Sam. I went back in and talked to him for an hour, showing him how much you were actually sorry. How much you had beat yourself up over hurting him. And then I gave him your number. I wasn’t sure if he was gonna call but-”
“Oh my God, you’re amazing!” Colby ran up to her, grabbing her by the waist and spinning her around. She gripped his shoulders tightly as they spun, laughing loudly into his ear. As her feet touched the ground, he stared into her eyes, his smile the brightest she had ever seen it. His hands glided up her body to her face, cupping her cheeks quickly. He smashed his lips against hers, his heart pounding as he did. Her hands lowered to his chest, her grasp on his shirt tightened as she felt herself lose her footing and back up into the car.
As they stumbled, he realized what he was doing, pulling away quickly. “Shit… I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have-”
“No, it’s okay,” She giggled. “I’m just… surprised.”
He exhaled, letting his arms fall away from her body. “Me too.”
They leaned against the car, keeping a slight distance from each other. A light blush rested on both their faces; however, it was hard to see with the setting sun, something they were both grateful for.
The waitress sighed, breaking the moment of silence. “I think I know why this happened. Why I was the only one who remembered you…”
He raised an eyebrow, slightly side-eyeing her. “Really?”
“I lied to you when we first met. I wanted to seem a bit cooler than I am, but I don’t think I can hide that anymore.” She began, nervously.
Colby’s face relaxed a little, surprised at her words. “Okay.”
“My friend didn’t introduce me to you guys… I introduced her… to you.” She confessed.
A soft grin came to his face. “I had a feeling.”
She rolled her eyes. “No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did! I totally did,” he snickered. “Not every fan knows I worked at Dairy Queen. And… no average fan would have helped me get Sam back the way you did.”
“I think there’s a reason for all of this. I think in your universe, your life… you don’t know me.” Her voice dropped suddenly, making Colby turn to her.
“That’s true, I don’t.” He nodded.
Her eyes met his, a sad glint reflecting in the moonlight. “But I think the reason for that is because… you’re not supposed to.”
“What do you mean?” He replied, his face twisting in confusion.
“I think you and I are only supposed to have met here, in this universe. But not in yours.” She glared up at the sky, “Maybe in some weird way, I’m your guardian or guide or something.”
Colby’s thoughts raced. “So, what you’re saying is-“
“This might be the last time you’ll ever see me. You did what you had to do. You got Sam and you to talk again.” Her voice cracked as she held back tears, “You can go home.”
He grabbed her hands, holding them close to his body. “But… I don’t want to leave if it means I don’t know you.”
A hitched breath fell from her lips, a smile appearing from his words. “If we’re meant to be, we’ll see each other again.”
“That’s not fair.” He shook his head, a deep frown settling on his face.
“I know, but it’s how it has to be.” She whispered.
He rested his forehead against her, breathing deeply. “Can I… get one more kiss?”
She bit her lip softly. “I thought you’d never ask.”
They leaned in, his breath fanning across her lips for a split second before he pulled away.
“Wait…” He shuddered. “I never got your name.”
A soft smile came to her lips. “I’ll tell you after.”
His arms wrapped around her, pressing her body into his as their lips collided. He held onto her for dear life, terrified that the moment he pulled away, she would be gone.
He could feel things around him slow down, almost melting away, but he couldn’t tell if it was from the beauty of their kiss making him dizzy. A whirling silence overcame his senses. A burning sensation sliced through his abdomen; his breath ripped from his lungs.
A heavy darkness overtook his vision and for the briefest of moments, he felt absolutely nothing.
Except her lips.
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#colby brock#colby brock fic#colby brock story#colby brock one shot#colby brock fanfiction#colby brock fanfic#colby brock oneshot#colby brock angst#sam golbach#sam and colby
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You’re Pretty
pairing: Corpse Husband x fem!reader
genre: fluff
warnings: i blushed heavily while writing this, js // a couple swear words
word count: 902
request: from @voidcaine
“Hi, sorry to bother you 🥰 I was just wondering if I could request a Corpse Husband x reader fic where the reader got kinda famous making dance tiktoks and a bunch of her fans convice her to try playing among us. So she somehow ends up playing with Corpse and it turns out he’s a fan and has had a crush ever since he first found her acc? 💕“
a/n: Requests are never a bother! I hope that you like this :) please let me know if you guys have any other requests!
I wasn’t really a gamer. I played The Sims every now and again, but nothing too serious. I started making YouTube videos not too long after my TikTok had gained a following doing makeup, dancing, and other things. I had gotten a lot of comments and tweets asking me to play Among Us, but I didn’t really know how to play or have anyone to play with. So I reached out to my friend Corinna to see if she had played before and if she would be willing to play with me.
She gave me the info for a game she had planned with a few people later that day and I tweeted to let my followers know that I would finally be fulfilling their requests of playing Among Us with the time. I spent the rest of my day scrolling through Twitter and listening to scary stories, narrated by none other than Corpse Husband, until Corinna texted me and told me to go ahead and hop on the Discord call. I joined quickly, kind of nervous to be meeting new people and playing a new game that required me to lie.
“Hey guys, this is my friend Y/N, she’s never played before so please go easy on her,” Corinna said.
“Hi, everyone,” I said quietly, adjusting my headphones on my head. Everyone said their hellos and went back to setting up their stuff the way they wanted. I took the time to start my stream and mute myself on the Discord call. “Hello all you pretty people, I am finally streaming a game for you guys! I’m playing Among Us with a few people who I’m sure you heard of because I know I have. We have Corinna, who you guys have seen on my channel, Toast, Sykkuno, Valkyrae, Edison, Faye, Sean, Felix, me, and the one I am most excited for -- Corpse.” The chat went insane when I said Corpse, as I expected.
I unmuted my mic on my Discord hesitantly. “How do you guys play this game so chill with so many people watching you? I only have like 20,000 and my hands are sweating.” I heard some chuckles from the call before someone answered.
“A lot of people watch you on TikTok, Y/N,” Rae said.
“Yeah but not live! What if I mess up and doing something dumb,” I laughed.
“That’s where I know you from,” a deep voice exclaimed. “I’ve seen you on TikTok.” Corpse.
“O-oh, yeah! Yeah, that’s where this all started.” Corpse has seen my TikToks? Everyone else said they’d seen me there or followed me on social media, which I thought was really sweet. “I’m also a terrible liar, so if I’m ever imposter, I’m sorry in advance.”
“You’ll do great, babe,” Corinna said sweetly. If she were with me, she would have patted my head, and I smiled at the thought. “Let’s get into it!” The game started and I let go a breath I didn’t know I was holding when “Crewmate” showed on my screen. Not much time passed before a body got reported.
“Can I ask a question?” I said quietly. They all agreed. “What the hell am I supposed to do for the thing with the hexagons?” There was light laughter before Corpse spoke up.
“You just have to click the red ones and it will clear.”
“Oh, cool. Thanks.” The meeting went quick since there wasn’t really any evidence, and we were back doing tasks. I noticed that Corpse was following me. “He’s either protecting me or he’s going to kill me,” I told my stream. “I’m stressed.” I did the hexagon thing and made my way to my next task, Corpse close behind. Another meeting got called and I took the time to ask Corpse what he was doing. “Corpse.”
“Yeeeeesss?”
“Why are you following me?” He giggled breathily and I grinned, glancing at my camera quickly.
“I’m protecting you, I can’t let you die.” I felt the heat rush to my cheeks as the call erupted in chaos.
“Why can’t you let her die?” Sean asked. I heard Corpse cough nervously.
“Uh, sh-she’s new, she’s never played.”
“Is it because you think she’s pretty?” Felix teased. I muted my mic on the call and squeaked.
“What is going on?!” I exclaimed
“So what if I think she’s pretty?” I gasped, slapping my hand against my forehead and staring at my camera. My chat was going insane. “She’s a good dancer, and she is pretty, I’m sure everyone thinks she’s pretty. I mean -- n-not that, uh, not that you’re like, regular pretty Y/N, you’re -- I mean -- ah, fuck.” Corpse’s mic went mute on the Discord call as he tried to collect himself.
“Uh,” I said quietly. “I’m, uh… I’m flattered.” The call was silent. “And I don’t really know what you look like, but I would put money on the fact that you’re pretty too, Corpse.” I muted my mic as soon as I got the sentence out. The amount of “awe”s in the call was kind of overwhelming.
“Y/N HAS A CRUSH ON CORPSE, AND CORPSE HAS A CRUSH ON Y/N THIS IS PERFECT!” Sean yelled.
“Hey, Y/N,” Corpse said among the chaos.
“Yeeeeesss?” I asked.
“Maybe we can talk without thousands of people watching us.” I was smiling so hard my cheeks hurt.
“I would really like that.”
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