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taintedcigs · 11 months

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GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader

CHAPTER FOUR: TWO NOTES AND A HEART DOWN

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✦ summary: in which eddie takes you for a trip down memory lane and you finally read the note. (wc: 9.4k+)

✦ warnings — ANGSTANGSTANGST, argument </33, yelling, crying, mentions of sa (nothing happens) like its not brought up AT ALL it's insinuated like the tiniest bit, mean!eddie, kinda asshole-ish? pining and slowburn, strong language!, mentions of alc*hol and drg use and a toxic/ab*sive relationship, food!!

✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader, eddie munson x chrissy cunningham

✦ authors note — sorry for the wait but i hope a 9.4k chapter makes up for it omg! also feel free to chat with me in the asks abt this series (and anything tbh) pls!! not proof-read pls ignore mistakes!! ive been struggling with this chapter A LOT. its not at all how i wanted to write it but i was just tired of holding it off :// so hope u guys enjoy and this is like the last fluffy chapter lmao its all angst from here on (well kinda)

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His nose skimmed against yours, a mere breath away from the temptation of your soft lips, everything you’ve been wanting on the tip of your fingers.

But you couldn’t do that. It didn’t matter if he was sorry or if it was casual. Chrissy still existed. And he still kissed her in front of you.

Friends, is what he promised. And this was going to ruin it.

“Please, look at me,” he pleaded, you could hear the desperation in his voice. Your eyes blinked open slowly, how close he was to you had your eyes widened.

"I-I don't even know what's wrong with me," he breathed out. "I feel like...I feel like I'm losing my goddamn mind, and I don’t even know what just happened,” he said in a strained voice.

“I-I just… I look at you, and I’m absolutely terrified.” He gulped. “It terrifies me that—” He stopped himself before he could spew out more.

It terrifies me how much I would do for you, he wishes to say, but he doesn’t, he can’t.

“I can’t—we shouldn’t be doing this." He stammered, quick to lean away from you.

“I-I know” You agreed hesitantly, because you knew this was a bad idea. But your stomach burned at the thought that he wanted to not kiss you because of Chrissy. Was he actually going to be with her now? Did he lie about things being casual?

“Do you…” You took a deep breath, “do you like her?” Your voice was strained, it was barely above a whisper, but Eddie heard you loud and clear.

Your heart rate picked up quicker than you intended it to, you leaned further away from him, your mouth flooded with a bitter taste.

“No!” His eyes widened, he answered it so quickly that the idea that he was lying sank further into you.

“No, I-I don’t know… I just-” He breathed. “We agreed to being friends… We should keep it that way, and I can’t keep doing this,” he stammered. “I need to stop hanging on to the past.”

“but, fuck. Each time, I try to, you just… prevent it!” He admitted, without realizing the weight his words held, your brows pinched quickly.

“I prevent it?” You enunciated with an exasperated chuckle.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you mumbled under your breath as your body turned away from him, elbows holding onto the edge of the pool as you swiftly lifted yourself up.

Eddie just looked at you, baffled. “Do you realize how unbelievable you are?” You spat, looking down on him with your hair still wet and your dress uncomfortably stuck to your body.

“What are you talking about?” He gave you a puzzled look.

“Nevermind,” you huffed, facing away from him.

Eddie groaned, following you as he exited the pool swiftly. “Why do you even care?” He asked, breathless. Taking another step closer toward you.

“I don’t,” you lied with a gulp. You were a bad liar. And Eddie knew that.

“You don’t?” He narrowed his gaze, giving you a second chance to open up, but he knew you were too stubborn.

“I don’t.”

He huffed. “Fine.”

“That…” He paused, “was a mistake.” You could feel that horrible ache in your chest return. Sure it was a bad idea, but a mistake?

Did he really hate you that much?

“What does that mean?” You swallowed hard. Your heart was breaking the more he spoke, you wanted nothing more than to shut him up.

“It means we-I shouldn’t have done that,” he corrected himself with a tinge of disappointment in his tone. But what exactly did he mean by that? Did he mean that the almost-kiss was a mistake because it could ruin your potential friendship? Or did he mean it in a way that suggested he liked Chrissy?

Those words were enough to have your heart drop into your gut; your whirlwind of thoughts were mocking you, the idea that Eddie had a chance of liking her was eating away at you, and all you could do was stand there and watch it all unravel.

You parted your lips to speak, but all that could come out was a weak mutter of, “okay.” You turned your back on him quickly, picking up your jacket from the ground. You put it on in a struggle, fighting back the tears that were pricking your eyes.

“What are you doing?” He asked with a puzzled look, and you refused to look back at him before your feet picked up. He didn’t seem to realize why his answer truly crushed you.

“I-I’m going home.” Your voice was barely audible; there was a lump sitting in your throat, causing your breathing to stammer.

“With what exactly?” He huffed, following behind you.

“I don’t know,” you muttered with a roll of your eyes. “I’ll figure it out… I always do, don’t I?” You shrugged.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I won’t let you walk alone like this. You could catch a cold, or something could happen to you, Pinky." His voice was laced with concern, brows furrowed as he hurried to your side.

“I don’t care,” you muttered with an emotionless expression.

“I do!”

“Do you?”

“Of course I do!” He spat. “Please, don’t do something stupid and reckless. I can take you home,” he mumbled with a huff. There was no fucking way he’d let you walk home alone.

“And I have a towel in my car,” he added, you slightly huffed. It was chilly, your dress was soaking, and he was right. There was no way you could get home without him. At least until you were willing to freeze off or get hauled by whatever was roaming in the forest.

You followed him to the car with a simple nod, Eddie still failed to notice why you had gotten so upset, not realizing the implications his words held.

By the time you got into the car, you were shivering, faintly muttering a ‘Thanks’ to Eddie as he wrapped the towel around you, brows creasing with worry, but he didn’t know what to say to you.

Usually, he wouldn’t have let it go; he would’ve tried to get it out of you and ask you if you were okay, but when you were this upset, it was no use.

The ride was silent except for the faint sound of Eddie’s mixtape filling the space between the two of you. He had asked if you had anything specific you wanted to listen to, but you shut him off with a faint shake of your head.

Your heart was aching. Like he had just ripped open your chest and taken it without a care, not noticing how tight he had been squeezing and releasing it. As if he were toying with it.

And you felt nauseous. You weren’t sure if it was because you didn’t get a chance to eat all day or because of that mocking thought in your head that told you that Eddie wanted Chrissy.

Once your stomach grumbled, your question was quickly answered, your cheeks heated up as you crossed your arms against your chest in an attempt to shut it up. Eddie gave you a slight chuckle. “Munchies?” He chuckled. “Do you wanna get something to eat?” He asked with a reassuring smile.

“I just wanna go home,” you grumbled as your gaze refused to meet his. “C’mon,” he muttered with a huff. “Do you even have anything to eat at home?” He asked all-knowingly. You shook your head, you didn’t; your fridge was empty; it was late, so you couldn’t get any groceries; not to mention, your messy kitchen was in no condition to cook.

“Are burgers still your favorite food?” Your face unintentionally lit up at that; he was definitely thinking about Benny’s, and your mouth-watered just at the idea of their cheeseburgers.

“Benny’s?” You asked with an involuntary smile on your cheeks, and Eddie swallowed a deep breath. That curve of your goddamn plump lips was driving him crazy.

“Yeah, do you want to go?” He muttered slowly. “O-okay,” you mumbled.

First the Wheeler House, then Billy’s stupid camaro, then the pool, this goddamn van, that mixtape, and now Benny's... this whole day had been a nostalgic mind fuck for you. You couldn’t complain, though; no matter how upset his words made you, you were still so pathetically happy to spend some time with him, ecstatic that he didn’t let you go.

And so was Eddie. That’s why he had been holding his tongue back; he wanted to know why you cared so much about Chrissy. Sure, what she did with Billy was horrible. But it didn’t make sense. There had to be something he didn’t know.

By the time you guys arrived at Benny's, it was past midnight, so, the place wasn’t packed, of course, but surprisingly, there were still a lot of tables besides the two of you. Eddie let out an ‘Aha!’ sound once his eyes caught the booth that was nestled in the corner.

The same one the two of you always shared. The white light loomed over its padded, dark maroon seat, and you slid onto it with a huff. Your senses were immediately greeted by the mouthwatering aroma of toasted buns. The air was infused with a disgusting smell of frying oil, but all of it smelled irresistible to your growling stomach.

Once the two of you got situated, Benny was quick to rush to your side. “Welcome to Benny’s, what can I get you—”

"Oh my god!" Benny's eyes widened, his face breaking into a wide grin. "Didn't expect to see you! Jesus, how long has it been?" He chuckled, his memory working overtime.

A smile adorned your face, Benny had always been nice to you and to Eddie, giving you one too many free meals, always telling you that it was not an issue despite your protests, knowing of your absentee parents, just like the rest of the town did.

“Very long,” you added with a chuckle, “missed your cheeseburgers.” You pouted.

"Yeah?" Benny's excitement was palpable. "Mmhmm, nowhere in New York does it as good as Benny's," you hummed sweetly.

"Now, you're just butterin' me up!" Benny dismissed with a chuckle, eliciting a warm smile from you.

"But, New York, huh?" Benny inquired, raising an intrigued brow. "I've seen this one around, a lot, even last week." His finger pointed toward Eddie, prompting your brows to furrow.

Last week?

“So that's why you weren’t with him.” He added, realization dawning on his face. Eddie was quick to shoot a painful gaze toward you, one that almost said, ‘no, she wasn’t with me because she left me’, You didn’t know how it was possible to share a language just through your shared gaze, but it had you physically gulping.

“Uh-uh, yeah,” you mumbled, your gaze avoiding Eddie’s.

“I gotta say though…” He leaned down, almost like he was telling the two of you a secret, “It’s really nice seeing the two of you together, again.” Benny said with a sly smirk.

“‘Bout damn time y’all got together,” He teased further.

Your eyes widened in unison, both sets of cheeks warming before you spoke up.

“Oh, no—” You were quick to dismiss with your hands.

“We’re not—” Eddie joined in your protests.

“So, what can I get for you, lovebirds?” He hummed casually, ignoring both of your protests. Your eyes locked before both of you shyly avoided each other’s gaze. “The usual?”

“Uh-uh, yeah," Eddie grumbled, suddenly more interested in the wooden table.

When Benny turned toward you, “same for her, but with extra pickles.” Eddie said almost automatically, your brows pinched together and Eddie mentally cursed himself, “I-I mean… if that’s still your order…” His words smushed together, cheeks quick to heat crimson red.

“It-it is," you mumbled.

“Alright, comin’ right up,” he threw a wink at the two of you, clueless of the awkwardness apparent in the air.

It was stupid, all this back and forth all day. You weren’t kids anymore; you should have been able to just be friends and hang out, not fight. Yet, somehow, it had spiraled into a seemingly impossible situation.

Talking it out wasn’t going to do anything. If the two of you wanted any chance to salvage whatever your relationship was, you needed to talk about the bigger picture; everything needed to be spilled out. But neither of you wanted to do that.

Unspoken feelings were lingering, and none of you knew when they would boil over. Both of you desperately wanted to cling to the promise of being friends and make the most of it.

There were a lot of things you could say to him; you could choose to talk about Chrissy, you could choose to talk about L.A.; hell, you could choose to talk about his nerdy game, but your curiosity got the best of you, and before you could help it, the words spilled out of your mouth. “What were you doing here last week?”

Eddie was almost taken aback by your question, not expecting you to be curious about him again after icing him out for so long. “I like coming here,” he shrugged. “Whenever I’m in Hawkins, I drop by, you know, to write some stuff.”

“Here?” Your face scrunched, finding it hard to believe that a greasy diner could ever be inspiring.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “most of our second album was produced in this bad boy.”

"Are you serious?” Your brows raised, “and the rest of the band is just okay following you here?" You narrowed your gaze playfully, your hands finding a resting place on the worn wooden table.

Eddie’s mouth twitched with a smile. “Yeah, actually, they’ve gotten pretty used to it,” he confessed, “you-uh… I don’t know if you ever got to listen to the second one-”

"I did," you interrupted, voice resolute.

“Y-you did?”

“Of course.”

Eddie hesitated before asking, "What did you think of it?"

“Great record, are you kidding me? It had such a unique sound… You know, like, a timeless quality that makes it stand out?” You said excitedly, and he nodded with a raised brow, “that much?” He asked hesitantly.

“I’m not kidding, Eddie. You know how I don’t pull punches with music; if it wasn’t good, I’d tell you in a heartbeat.”

"Which one's your favorite?" Eddie asked, his curiosity piqued.

You pondered for a second before answering, "oh, definitely Aurora!"

Eddie's shaggy bangs fell onto his forehead as he leaned closer, listening intently. "I mean, 'I just kinda died for you, you just kinda stared at me' is genius," you said, your voice filled with admiration. You didn't dare look him in the eyes.

"And really, really sad," you continued, a hint of melancholy in your tone. "The idea that you could give the whole world to someone, to the point where you describe it as dying, and they don’t even see it... it sounds awfully painful." You gulped, your eyes fixed on the worn wooden table. You weren’t stupid; you knew why it was named Aurora; you knew what the lyrics were alluding to.

His car. The same car that the two of you drove around in. The same car drove the two of you out of Hawkins.

You knew he liked you way before he let you on, and you wish you knew.

Maybe if you weren’t dating that douchebag, maybe if Eddie said something sooner, maybe if everything that happened when the two of you left didn’t happen… Maybe just maybe, the two of you’d be together now.

Maybe if the timing was just right, it wouldn’t be like this; he wouldn’t have whatever he had with Chrissy. You wouldn’t have been in New York.

But what were you supposed to say? What could you say that would change all of this? Even if you told him about what Chrissy did, even if you explained why you had to leave him in L.A., there was no use. The truth couldn't turn back time. You two had ventured down different paths, and it was painfully evident.

He wasn’t the Eddie you knew, and you weren’t the Pinky he knew; it was too fucking late.

Eddie's mouth hung open in surprise; he hadn't expected you to delve into the song's meaning like this. Aurora was one of the heaviest songs he had ever written, and he held a special attachment to it. The label and the rest of the band had embraced it, which was surprising since they usually rejected his heartbreak songs, wanting more of that unbridled rage.

He didn’t answer you; there was a weird tension between the two of you again, so you diffused it with, “but kinda lame that you decided to name a song after your car,” while eyeing Eddie to gauge his reaction.

Eddie chuckled. “Oh, bite me,” he teased, "but yeah, that one was also written here, in that same spot you were sitting.”

“Shut up!” You said, hand playfully reaching out to nudge him.

"And to your question... I can't tell you why I was here last week," Eddie confessed, his voice carrying a hint of mystery.

Your stomach twisted at that, and you didn't know how many more punch-in-the-gut revelations you could handle today. "Why- uhh- why not?" You asked hesitantly, your words stuttering over simple syllables.

"Because then I'd be spoiling the note, dummy," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

A deep breath of relief escaped your stomach, and you chuckled. God, he was a douche. "Wait... so does that mean... I have a song in my pocket?"

"Not exactly."

"I'm the first one to see it, huh?" You asked excitedly, hand teasingly dipping into your pocket.

"You and the rest of the band," Eddie huffed, offering a sheepish grin.

You gave him a quick glare. “You know I could leak this to the press and make millions, right? No more dealing with rude customers, and no more nine to five hours stuck in a record shop?”

He narrowed his gaze. "You can't get shit for that," he mockingly retorted.

"What?" You frowned.

"Yeah, it's basically like the first chorus and some gibberish notes, it's worthless," Eddie explained.

You pouted. "Aww, damn it."

"I'm kidding, I'm excited to read it,” you reassured with a wink, “you know… Maybe I could give you some notes on it? Review it?" You suggested.

“Didn’t know you were a musician.”

“Rude!” You huffed, “I may not be a musician, rockstar. But I sell records for a living. I can promise you, I listened to many more records than you did this year.” You said with a playful smirk.

"How's that like?" Eddie asked curiously, his deep brown eyes resembling longing and curiosity.

You leaned back against the cushioned booth, letting out a wistful sigh. "Working at a record store? A rollercoaster,” you chuckled, “lame in some ways, but also incredibly fascinating. New York's a whole different world compared to Hawkins."

Eddie couldn't help but study your face as you spoke. He noticed the faint traces of insecurity in the way you held yourself—an air of loneliness that came with moving away from everyone you knew and your family leaving you.

"But also, it took me a while to get used to it," you continued. "Nancy and Jonathan used to visit me a lot; they've really helped me adjust.”

“And you know, of course, Robin and Steve, too,” you murmured.

Eddie’s brows shot up at that. So everyone but him.

It was a sting he couldn't quite shake, burning at his skin, that you decided to abandon him but were fine with everyone else, including Steve.

Your absence in his life had left a void he couldn't fill, ever.

Yet, here you were, replacing him like it was nothing.

Eddie knew he had no right to be jealous; you two were just friends, right? But it ate away at him; that feeling seeped through him, even though you were never his to begin with.

His face burned, and his jaw clenched involuntarily. He could almost feel the taste of bitter jealousy in his mouth, considering how it was overtaking his senses. “Steve?” He questioned; gaze seeping through you, an unbrittled rage ready to tip at any moment.

You didn’t seem to notice it, though. For someone who was usually very perceptive, it flew right by you—that slight tick in his jaw, the way his fists curled, the storm raging beneath the surface.

“Yeah,” you murmured, his head turned away from you, gaze fixed on anything but your face. The other corners of the burger place was suddenly very interesting to him as he grappled with his own emotions.

“It’s pretty crowded in here, right?” you remarked, trying to draw Eddie into the conversation and gauge his mood.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie replied, his gaze remained distant, thoughts elsewhere.

Concern etched across your face as you pressed further, “Uh, are you okay?” Something seemed to be bothering Eddie, and you couldn't pin-point what it was.

“‘M fine,” he dismissed with a wave of his hands.

He had to distract you and do something else because he was being super fucking weird, and you weren’t dumb; you could read him like a book.

He didn’t want that awkwardness or tension to reappear; he wanted to talk to you freely, he couldn’t let his insecurities ruin this for him.

Eddie’s attention turned back to you, “is that what you want to do with your life?” his brows raised, “The record store, I mean.” He didn’t want to sound rude, he just wanted to know more.

“I don’t know… I never had much time to think about it.” You gave him a small smile, shaking your head gently, “also, I can’t really afford to think about it anyway.”

“But what do you want to do?” He probed.

“Anything concerning art… I mean I’d love to be a tattoo artist, too. That’s the likely path I’m going down, dunno if the salary is good enough, though.” You shrugged, “but you know what I’d love to be?” Eddie leaned closer, his eagerness clear.

“What?” He asked, genuinely intrigued.

“Someone came in like a month ago, this bearded guy with lots of tattoos… We had a new album coming to our store that day, and he wanted to see them,” you mumbled with a warm smile, eyes glistening with a dreamy glow. “Then he told me about how he was a tattoo artist, but helped make some of the cover art for that album, and then something just like clicked in me.”

“I used to draw with the hope that maybe it could connect with someone, you know, like it did with me… I spent half of my childhood drawing and listening to music as an outlet. Whenever my parents left, whenever they were absent in my life despite ‘being there’, or whenever they had a screaming match, plates thrown at each other, the first thing I did was sketch, anything, on the notebook.” You mumbled, “or I listened to a record, and I let it consume me, in the hopes that it would drive me away from reality, diffuse the pain, even for a split second, and it worked,” you said with a simple smile.

Eddie hung on to your every word, his gaze never wavering, admiring that creative spirit shining in you. “Art and music shift the world in the best way possible, and maybe it is dramatic but it also saves lives in a way, you know, by helping you get through something, or making you forget. And that’s my biggest wish… to have my art be important to someone, to make them feel like they’re not alone, in any way possible. So when I saw how that guy combined music and art like that, I thought, this is fucking perfect, this is what I need to do.”

Eddie’s brows pinched together, “why haven’t you done it?” he asked, his voice a soothing lilt that could melt any doubts away. He could listen to you talk about your passions for hours, the way your eyes glistened with hope, that little quirk of your brow did when you found something interesting, it was heavenly to him.

“C’mon Eds, be realistic,” you murmured sadly. “Half the people that work for a good record company or with a good band have fancy art degrees, they have connections, they have the money, the time to do it. No one’s going to want a nobody who doesn’t even have a college degree from a small town.” Your lips pressed into a thin line.

“Bullshit,” he spat quickly, dismissing the way you so quickly diminished yourself, “I was the trailer trash of Hawkins, and look what happened,” he encouraged in a harsh but also a warm manner, leaning closer.

“Yeah, but you’re also a guy, Eddie.” Your voice wavered as you pointed out, “t-they have different expectations for women who don’t have those connections, or don’t come from like insanely rich parents… If you know what I mean,” you said with disgusted frowning upon your face, chill running down your spine.

Eddie immediately picked it up, his face growing to one of concern, “W-wait-” his voice quivered, the color drained from his face quickly, you immediately knew what he was implying and shook your head, “no, no, not me! But I heard lots of stories in New York, it’s just disgusting,” your face scrunched.

“That’s awful,” Eddie’s jaw clenched in anger, he knew there were a lot of scumbags in the industry, and it pissed him off that he could do nothing about it. He already felt guilty enough that he didn’t realize what a narcissistic asshole Billy really was, he wanted to help any way he could.

And then, like a sudden light bulb went off in his head, an idea illuminated his mind. “Have I ever told you that our record company is in need of a new art director?” He pouted teasingly.

Your eyebrows shot up as a giggle escaped your lips. "You're funny," you said, playfully skeptical.

Eddie, ever earnest, replied, "I'm serious."

“I-I can't do that," you said shyly, your fingers toying with the hem of your dress.

Eddie leaned in, and retorted with a, “and why not?"

“It-it feels wrong, and you don’t even know if I’d be good-“ you hesitated, not fully convinced if this was a good idea.

“Bullshit,” Eddie countered firmly, a small smile gracing his lips. “I know how great your art is, and I know how much you care about music, the way you describe it is exactly the reason why I love it so much.” Eddie always took you seriously and encouraged you about your dreams, no matter how unrealistic it was.

“You know what you said earlier about how you wanted your art to matter to someone?” You nodded, eyes glistening with hope.

“Your art is important to me, Pinky. The ones you sketched in your notebooks, is what helped me write some of my lyrics. The drawings you made when you were bored in class, the ones I have hung up on my wall still at the trailer… they mean so much to me,” he said in a hushed voice, he dragged his arm on the table, quick to point to the tattoo on his forearm. “This tattoo, is what helped with Corroded Coffin’s symbol bats, you do realize that, right?”

Skeptical, you scoffed, "you guys always had bats as your thing."

“True,” he agreed, “but your design helped bring it to life.” He shrugged, “and you know the band better than anyone, maybe you could help us with our next album cover, too. I don’t think I could find someone more perfect for the job.” Eddie shrugged and smiled warmly.

“But-”

Your protests were gently silenced by Eddie, who insisted with a soft determination, “No but’s, just say yes, please.” His voice was sweet, sickingly sweet, you couldn’t say no even if you wanted to, and this was the perfect opportunity.

“I mean I’ll just have a talk with them, show them some of your stuff, so, no promises. But I can be very, very persuasive,” he teased, a wink thrown your way.

You stammered, the excitement bubbling within you. "Y-you'd do that for me?” He nodded surely, “even after everything that happened?" Your tone was muffled, laced with insecurity.

"Anything for you," Eddie reassured as he leaned closer, that familiar, small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

With your heart aflutter, you finally agreed, excitement breaking through the barriers of your insecurities. "If—if you really are okay with it, I-I'd love to."

“Of course,” he affirmed.

“Alright!” Benny chimed in, interrupting the two of you. “Two cheeseburgers with a side of fries, and two milkshakes.” He hummed, settling the food in front of both sets of hungry eyes.

“Enjoy, lovebirds!” He said with a smirk, sauntering away to the kitchen.

“Thank you!” Both of you exclaimed with happiness as you dug into the food.

As you munched on the crispy fries, you admired the other tables, each one occupied by a slice of life that you couldn't help but find intriguing.

One table was for a family of four. All you could hear was the distressed children, their whining echoed through the restaurant. The parents looked drained, faces etched with exhaustion as they juggled plates of half-eaten food, desperately trying to calm down and distract their kids.

Another table was occupied by a couple who was in a heated argument. The man wore a scowl, voice raised in anger, while the woman looked like she was about to cry, her eyes pleading for understanding.

But the last table was the one that you couldn’t tear your eyes away from, it brought a smile to your face. “Oh my god, look,” you said in a hushed voice, gaze pointing toward the booth that was nested in the far right corner.

Eddie was already face-first into his food, “later, ’m eating.” He grumbled. You poked your tongue out at him playfully. “Jesus… Forgot how grumpy you get when you are hungry,” you hummed, flinging a fry in his direction, causing him to pause mid-bite and chuckle.

“Oh, you don't wanna play that game with me, sweetheart,” he teased, dangling a fry in front of your face.

You grinned, your eyes dancing with excitement. “Just one look, and I’ll be out of your curly unbrushed hair, Munson,” you joked with a giggle.

His eyes rolled quickly, “you won’t stop until you get what you want, will you?” He asked with an annoyed tilt of his head.

You shook your head with a giggle. “Fine,” he huffed jokingly, dipping the fry in his hand into the vanilla milkshake, making an exaggerated sound of satisfaction as he devoured it.

“Gross.” You commented with mock disgust, and he rolled his eyes in response.

“Just tell me which table.” Eddie leaned in, his curiosity piqued as your gaze moved toward the couple at the adjacent booth. The girl was wearing a plaid mini skirt, expertly paired with a statement crop-top covered by an oversized leather jacket wrapped around her shoulders, likely borrowed from the curly-haired brunette sitting on the opposite side of the booth.

Her head was thrown back, and laughter danced in her eyes as she hung on to every word of the story he was telling. The curly haired brunette guy had a graphic band-tee and a guitar pick adorning his neck. Mascara smudged and eyes all red; you knew they probably had a long night.

It reminded him of something, or rather, someone.

He looked at you with his brows scrunched up, and you replied to him with a giggle. Both of you were thinking the same thing.

“That’s fuckin’ weird.” Eddie mumbled with a mouthful of his juicy cheeseburger. “Are those our… doppelgangers?”

“Right?” You almost mirrored him, taking a bite from your cheeseburger as you leaned further on your elbows. “What do you think their story is?”

“Uhhh-” Eddie grumbled, “us from five years ago?” His mouth partially obscured by the burger as he chewed thoughtfully, a furrow in his brow.

“Such a detailed story!” You mocked. He couldn't help but notice how the dim diner lighting accentuated your features—plump lips looking so soft from the way you frustratingly groaned—which brought an unintentional smile to his face.

You were so breathtakingly pretty; even when you were munching on a burger, he was absolutely whipped.

Eddie shrugged, that shit-eating grin still on his face. He looked you dead in the eye before he took another big bite, stuffing more fries into his mouth.

“Fine, I’ll give them a story,” you narrowed your gaze, “and you can keep eating your gross milkshake dipped fries,” you mocked, straightening up your back as you leaned closer, licking your lips before you spoke.

“So the girl… she’s pretty, like really, really pretty.” You said with a sly grin, your gaze now focused on the couple in question; if he wasn’t going to participate, then you could just drag this further.

“And there’s the guy." You gestured toward the other booth, gaze narrowing as you turned back to Eddie. “He’s just... there, I guess, kind of looks like a douche,” you mocked, mouth scrunching as you looked at Eddie all-knowingly, head tilted to the side.

Eddie scoffed, responding with a lighthearted yet passionate defense of himself. “He looks like a total stud,” he grumbled in between bites with a smirk, “and that band-tee? He’s so fuckin’ cool.”

“Oh, yeah?” You challenged, “I think he’s a total nerd, bet he’s telling his dorky D&D stories to his best friend.”

He stuck his tongue out, a carefree grin on his face, “Hey! You said you loved my campaigns!” He exclaimed and playfully tossed a soggy fry at you.

You gasped dramatically, reaching for another fry to retaliate before Eddie’s unreadable expression had you frozen. “Shit, I totally forgot, what time is it?”

“Oh, you’re not getting away with that, Munson, we’re in a full fledged food war now,” you teased, holding a fry aloft, your gaze narrowing in mock seriousness.

“No, no, I’m serious.” Eddie insisted, causing you to huff in response. You turned your back to try to read the old-fashioned clock that stood on the wall.

“Uh… 1.15, why?” you replied, your brows furrowed in confusion, trying to understand him.

“Shit! Shit, shit!” He cursed, getting up quickly while he started gathering his things.

“What?” You asked with a puzzled look.

“Wayne!” He exclaimed making you furrow your brows.

“What about Wayne?”

“I promised to pick him up after his shift,” he explained with a sigh. “You know, since I kinda have the car.”

"Well, when did it end?” you inquired, still calm as you took another bite from your burger.

He eyed you with urgency. “15 minutes ago,” grumbling, he shoved whatever was left of his food into his mouth.

“So, I’m going to see Wayne?” You asked with a smile.

“If we don’t hurry up, you’re going to see me dead,” he exclaimed dramatically, making you roll your eyes.

“You need to inhale all of that, now!” He screeched, and you looked up at him with a pout.

“Now!” He snapped, hands clapping in front of your face.

“Okay, okay, jesus!” You groaned, taking a deep breath, before you shoved a generous handful of fries in your mouth.

When Eddie led you to the car, all you could think about was how Wayne would react—would he be mad at you? Would he be disappointed?

Goosebumps appeared when a chill ran down your spine, you didn’t know if you could handle it. Wayne had been a staple in your life up until you left, he fed you, he listened to you when you needed it, he gave you a place to sleep, and he always reassured you that you were always welcome in their home.

And you didn’t even bother to say goodbye to him. Not that you didn’t want to; it’s because you couldn’t. When you and Eddie left, it was in a hurry. You had no time to tell anyone, not even Eddie told Wayne until you two were half-way there to California.

But it still didn’t stop your guilt, it still didn’t help the way your stomach twisted at the mention of his name.

Your feet picked up quickly as the thoughts filled your head, only stopping when Eddie called out to you. “I have to tell you somethin’” Eddie mumbled, eyes squeezing shut.

A huff of air was quick to escape your lips, you knew it was too perfect to end like this, you knew he was going to ruin it.

“She-uh… she’s coming to brunch tomorrow.”

You froze in place, almost everything fit like a puzzle in your mind now, and you didn’t know which emotion to feel first.

Anger, jealousy, or sadness.

And all three of them hit you at the same time. Because it made sense now, it was clear. He liked Chrissy. He wanted Chrissy.

He wanted to move on with her.

He had your heart in his hands, but this time he wasn’t toying with it; he was stomping on it, over and over again, not stopping until he was sure it was beyond salvageable.

Hand almost frozen in the place you opened the car door without a word, settling into the passenger seat like nothing had happened.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath before he opened his side of the door, getting inside swiftly just to turn to you, “are you not gonna say anything?” he asked, voice carrying a desperate tone.

Your gaze remained fixed outside the window, your cheek pressed against the cool glass. “We’re going to be late,” you replied with a cold, unfeeling tone. Silence filled the car, mirroring the gaping void that now existed between you two.

Thankfully, Aurora didn’t give him any trouble when he started the ignition with a key turn, and the engine roared to life. You didn’t want to speak; you didn’t want to say anything to him. You wanted to save all of your emotions, contain them in the depths of your mind, and cry yourself to sleep. You didn’t want him to know how much this crushed you.

But you couldn’t just do that; too disappointed to let it slide, the words escaped your mouth like a dam breaking, “I can’t fucking believe you.”

“Just, listen, I-I didn’t even invite her-” Eddie tried to explain, but you weren't listening, you didn’t care, you were letting it all out.

“How would you fucking feel if I kissed… Jason in front of you?” Eddie opened his mouth to answer, but you continued, “how would you feel if I invited him to brunch tomorrow?

Once you took a deep breath to gather your thoughts, he scoffed. “That’s not the same thing, Pinky. Carver made my life a living hell, he was a miserable bully.”

You should tell him, you should tell him what exactly Chrissy did to you.

You should tell him the whole story of that night at Steve’s party.

The part he didn’t know.

But you don’t.

Because you’re too busy to worry about whether he actually wants to be with her or not, your mind felt full, anxieties and worries dancing around in it.

“And Chrissy kissed Billy!” Your mouth dried up when that name left your mouth, you could feel that dreadful feeling consuming your chest.

That night was still a blur to you—the way you caught them, the things Chrissy said to you, the way Billy swore that she initiated the kiss.

Eddie shook his head. “She said it was a misunderstanding.”

You rubbed your fingertips on your forehead in disbelief. “And you believe her over me?” you asked, tone carrying a tinge of hurt and betrayal. The question hung heavy between the two of you.

“No, no!” He yelled out. “Jesus fucking Christ, stop putting words in my mouth, Pinky!” Eddie groaned in frustration, his hands gripping the steering wheel. “She explained it was a misunderstanding, and she does want to tell you that, too… maybe you could talk to her—”

You let out an exasperated chuckle, not interested in entertaining the idea. “no fucking way.”

“If you want to be with her, then just fucking say that, Munson, don’t do all this fuckin’ bullshit,” you added, crossing your arms against your chest.

“I don’t want- oh, you’re unbelievable!” He snapped, head bumping against the headrest of his van.

“You make it fucking impossible to start over!”

“Wh-what does that even mean?” You retorted back.

“J-just when I’m about to start over, just when I-I’m going to…” He rolled his tongue inside of his cheek in rage as he paused to better explain himself.

“I find a picture of you in my wallet that you put… or, or Nancy and Jonathan tell me that you invited them over…” You were on the brink of retorting when he continued, “or, or, you- you just barge back into town like you never left; talk to me like nothing fuckin’ happened.”

You didn’t dare to open your mouth; everything he said made you feel guilty. But everything he felt, you felt, too. Each time you felt like moving on, each time you wanted to try to be with someone, you physically couldn’t.

Maybe it was selfish that you liked hearing him feel the same way too. That’s why the way he was being so vague about whatever he had with Chrissy was like a stab to your heart, in the most non-dramatic way possible.

“You know… I used to think you were the best thing that ever happened to me… I used to think that you w-would always be in my life. That you’d be the one fuckin’ person who’d never leave me.” Eddie's voice trembled, and your throat was quick to tighten, lump forming as his words began to sink in. It felt like the car grew darker the more he spoke, your world crumbling down with it.

“I was wrong about all of that... all you fuckin’ did was ruin it… You ruined my life.”

The faint strains of heavy metal playing on the car's stereo seemed distant, before you spoke up, wobbly lips slurring your words. “I… I r-ruined your life?” You slumped back on your seat with his words slicing through you like a knife, gnawing at your insecurities.

“Y-you really think that?” Words barely escaped your lips, voice quivering.

He opened his plushy lips to speak, but he couldn’t answer; words died down in his throat, his gaze fixated on the road, lips pressed into a tight line.

That in itself was an answer, you knew it, and he knew it. You felt exposed to him, like he knew your insecurities but still did nothing to hide them.

You couldn't help but feel a hot prickle behind your eyes, the unshed tears were getting harder to hold back. You bit back on your wobbly lip, in an attempt to conceal the pent-up emotions that were begging to be let out. “This… this whole thing was a mistake,” you murmured, voice hushed and heavy with regret. The words felt like stones in your mouth, bitter and unpalatable.

“We-we were caught up in ourselves, ther-there’s no fuckin’ way we could ever be friends,” you continued, driving home the painful truth, just so you could hurt him like he hurt you, just so you didn’t want him to know how pathetically you still wanted to be with him in any way possible.

“I agree,” he grumbled, eyes still on the road. Tears streamed down your cheeks, tracing glistening paths along your cheeks, you didn’t even attempt to wipe them. Sniffles punctuated the air, body shuddering with an attempt to suppress your sobs, but then again, they were drowned out by the heavy metal music that echoed in the car.

Eddie’s gaze fell on you every few seconds; but you didn’t seem to notice. And the guilt ate away at him, too, his brows furrowed in agony. He knew that wasn’t what he meant to say. He didn’t mean it in that way, you didn’t ruin his life; you never could—well, not until you left him.

His knuckles tightened on the steering wheel; this wasn’t how everything was supposed to happen. He didn’t even invite Chrissy; she asked to come, and of course Eddie said yes, what else could he do? So he just wanted to give you a heads up. Just so things wouldn’t get bad between the two of you again, but he managed to screw it up.

Grumbles and some curses were all the two of you could hear when Eddie pulled up to Wayne’s workplace. With a huff of breath, your car door hung open. “I’ve been waiting for thirty minutes, rockstar; you better have some good fuckin’ excuse-” Wayne’s eyes widened the second his gaze met your sad figure.

“Jesus H. Christ!” Wayne exclaimed as if seeing a ghost. “Am I seein' that right? Is that who I think it is?” Despite the heartache gnawing at your insides, you managed a smile.

"Hi, Wayne," you mumbled shyly. Wayne, however, wasn't having it. "Oh, you're not gettin' off with a simple 'hey,' come over here, kid!" He said excitedly, pulling you into a bear-hug. The embrace was tight enough to make you giggle and sniffle, an unfamiliar smile on your lips.

“Where the hell have ya been?” Wayne inquired once he let you go.

You tried to get up, offering him the front seat, he shook his head, hands holding you down by your shoulders, not wanting to interrupt the two of you.

You told him about everything—New York, your job, how you got here. Everything.

And all Eddie did was drive; he didn’t look at you or even Wayne for all that mattered—not a single glance. And of course, this didn’t go unnoticed by Wayne.

“Alright, kids, you two are bein' weird…” Wayne grumbled, glancing at Eddie. “Tell me what the hell happened. Some kind of lover's quarrel?” Eddie scoffed, and you couldn't help but snap your head in his direction.

"Somethin' funny, boy?" Wayne added, narrowing his gaze at his niece. Eddie sighed but still avoided both of your gazes.

“No, no, uhh- nothing happened.” He murmured.

Your gaze narrowed, and you couldn’t help the anger inside of you. “That’s funny, that is not how I remember it.”

Wayne’s brows furrowed before he leaned closer to the front seat. “What happened, P? You know you can always tell me anythin’” he murmured with a reassuring tone.

Eddie scoffed, rolling his eyes, but you ignored him, “he is with Chrissy,” you said, scrunching your face as you turned to gauge Wayne's reaction.

Wayne's brows tilted together, his eyes narrowing as he tried to remember that name. “You remember her? Strawberry blonde hair and-”

“The blondie that made you cry?” you nodded, “with that Hargrove kid?”

“See, even Wayne remembers,” you grumbled, slightly elbowing Eddie to get a reaction out of him, only earning an offended huff.

“I never liked him, you know,” Wayne continued, large hands gesturing vaguely to emphasize his point, “always thought you were way too good for him. A guy like him has no business with my Pinky.” You leaned further into the headrest, fingers fiddling with your jacket as you gave Wayne a weak smile.

“Should’ve listened to you,” you hummed.

“So Eddie is with her?” Wayne mumbled, face souring.

“Boy, have you lost your damn mind?” Wayne was quick to chide Eddie, who was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel in an attempt to not snap at either of you.

But it wasn’t working.

"I told you I'm not with her!" he hissed, voice dripping with irritation. He shot a glare at Wayne through the rearview mirror, but his words were directed at you.

“How would you explain kissing her and inviting her to our friend's brunch!” You snapped in Eddie’s direction.

“Eddie, tell me you did not do that!”

“It-it’s not like that, Wayne.”

“Oh, really? What is it like?” You gruffly asked, curiosity and hurt evident in your tone.

“Eddie…” Wayne warned him shushingly with a disappointed look, he could see how much you were hurting, and he knew Eddie was a bit oblivious.

“What?” he groaned.

“Don’t worry, Wayne, he just enjoys playing with my feelings,” you replied with a scoff, fingers tracing the pattern on the car’s leather seats, a relief to your pent-up emotions.

“Oh, you’re one to fuckin’ talk,” Eddie muttered under his breath with an out of place chuckle, his anger overflowing after holding it back for so long. “Newsflash, princess. You weren’t the one to wake up all alone in L.A. with one fucking note, I was!” He yelled, words punctuated by the heavy breath he took between each sentence.

“You should be grateful you have two notes in that pocket of yours because I barely got one!”

“Will you stop bringing that up?” You plead, lip wobbling as you bit on it harshly to stop your emotions from spilling.

“‘I can’t do this, sorry.’” He recited your words, and you refused to look at him. “Five letters, Pinky. Not even six. Five. You left me with that—no goodbyes, no nothin’, just a sticky fuckin’ note attached to the fridge.” His head snapped toward you.

A loud chuckle left your mouth, you turned to him with rage, and Wayne knew he had to step in or it was going to get ugly, even uglier than, whatever this was. “This isn’t even about that-”

“Alright, alright!” He interrupted, hands waving in the space between the two of you.

“Simmer down, both of you! I know the two of you have a lot of unresolved shit… but don’t burn this bridge,” he warned, “not again.” Wayne’s words were quick to disperse the emotional fog that had surrounded the car.

“The thing, whatever the hell it is, that y’all have… people spend their whole fuckin’ life lookin’ for it… Don’t be dumb.” That was enough to have the two of you shut up.

“Talk it out.” He said, firm but fair. “I know you’ve both been hurt, so, be honest with each other, and apologize,” he continued, urging both of you to confront each other.

“Okay?” He asked, head hanging in the space between the two of you.

“Okay,” both of you mumbled in unison, backs turned toward each other.

‘Too late’ was all you could think; that bridge was already burned. There was no way the two of you could ever go back now, right?

A sigh of relief escaped your lips when Eddie finally pulled up to your house, you didn’t waste any time saying goodbye to Eddie before turning to Wayne and giving him a hug.

“See you around?” You asked with a hopeful smile.

“You better!” Wayne warned playfully, evoking a giggle from you. “You gotta drop by sometime, promise?” He asked with a sly grin, he knew exactly what he was doing.

You didn’t want to see Eddie anymore than you had to now, but if Wayne asked you to do something, you’d do it in a heartbeat.

You looked back at Eddie, your gazes connecting for a second before both of you turned away. “Uh-huh, promise,” you mumbled before exiting quickly.

“What the hell are you doin’, kid?” Wayne exclaimed the moment you left, causing Eddie to look at him with a puzzled expression.

“Walk her to her door, for Christ’s sake!”

“I-I don’t think that’s a great idea,” Eddie explained hesitantly.

“Where are your manners?” Wayne scolded him, raising his voice. Eddie grumbled in frustration but ultimately gave in, cussing under his breath as he exited the car to follow you.

He ran after you, breathless once he finally caught up to you. “Sorry, I should’ve walked you-” He mumbled

You shook your head interrupting him, “no, it’s fine.”

“So, uhhh…” He started, gaining your attention back to him. “Goodnight.” Eddie grumbled with a scratch of his head, barely able to look at you. He didn’t want to leave things like this, but the damage was already done. You could see the guilt in his eyes, but it didn’t matter now.

He wondered what you would think of the notes; would you even read them? Would you get mad at him for the things he wrote?

“Goodnight, Eddie.” You muttered back, turning to the door as you avoided looking at him, your finger shakily retrieved your key as you fumbled with it, doing everything in your willpower to not turn back at him.

Eddie walked away with the same thoughts eating away at him. Were you going to look back at him? The temptation got the best of him, and he turned with a shy nod. You were struggling with your keys, muttering in frustration, and the sight unintentionally brought a smile to his lips before he hurried back to his car.

The moment you heard his car door open, you turned, slowly and reluctantly, only for your gaze to meet Wayne’s, who had an all-knowing smirk playing at his lips, waving at you.

You gave him a shy smile before you hurriedly turned your back, finally opening the door and rushing inside.

“You idiot lovebirds are goin’ to be the death of me,” Wayne grumbled to himself with a shake of his head, watching the way you scurried inside.

Once you locked the door, you rested against it, a sigh of relief escaping your lips. Your thoughts were swirling,but there was only one thing that was overpowering everything else; the note.

You furiously searched for it in your pocket, curiosity filling the course of your veins as you fished it out of the left one, your hand shaking as you held it in front of your eyes.

The words scribbled in the closed note had your heart racing, afraid of what it was going to say, once you fully opened it, your eyes roamed through it quickly.

The note was dated a week ago.

Don't fool yourself,

She was heartache from the moment that you met her.

My heart feels so still

As I try to find the will to forget her, somehow.

Oh I think I've forgotten her now.

(Is it obvious this last line is sarcasm?)

Your fingers traced the line that had the parenthesis and were crossed out. Eddie’s notes. If you the tears that escaped your burning eyes weren’t distorting your vision, maybe you would’ve appreciated some of the lyrics, and his funny notes, even though they were messy and all over the place.

I don’t blame you, but sometimes I wish we hadn’t met. (This is kinda too out there, but there could be something from this???)

Your heart pounded against your ribcage—that familiar ache that never fully left returned with a sharper pain. It hurt that he thought of you in this way. He thought you ruined his life, and now he wished he had never met you.

Those thoughts sank into your brain, and the anger that came with them was something you couldn’t comprehend. There was a lot more of the scribbled nonsense that you couldn’t read, other lyrics that were scratched out.

Your hands were shaking once you flipped it over. The other note was dated today.

I lied, didn’t I? I think I would prefer all the heartache in the world to not knowing you. I didn’t even realize that until today. Until I saw you across the room. And I can’t even explain how good it felt to look up and see you standing there. Even with that frown adorning your face.

Your tears hadn’t stopped, falling onto the piece of crumpled up paper and making a mess.

You felt like an idiot; you should’ve told him when you had the chance, and you had a lot of them. You were angry that you let everyone walk over you. You were angry that Billy had gotten away with everything. And now, Chrissy had a chance with him without ever paying for the consequences of what she did.

You couldn’t let that happen.

You didn’t want to be polite with your sadness anymore You didn’t want to absorb everyone’s pain to make sure they were okay. And you hated that that’s what you did essentially did when you didn’t tell Eddie about Chrissy.

You paced around the room, biting down on your nails.

Should you tell him? Or was that too selfish?

Because if you wanted to tell him, you had just the perfect opportunity to tell him and confront Chrissy; the brunch.

✦ final authors note —ALSO THE CHRISSY STUFF WILL BE REVEALED NEXT CHAPTER. IM SORRY FOR TEASING IT SO LONG BUT THE REVEAL IS GONNA BE GOOD I PROMISE LMAO. if you like this series pls support me by rbing liking and commenting ily thank youu🫶🏻 [EDIT: i forgot to say this but ofc the lyrics are not mine they are by jeff buckley’s incredible song “forget her” i listened to it A LOT writing this chapter👀 also if u can guess what the chapters title is inspired by ily]

permanent taglist (lmk if u want to be added): @mandyjo8719 @kellsck @batkin028 @hideoutside @sashaphantomhive @nabiiturner @andvys (ILY.)

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson series #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson angst #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #getaway car series #getaway car

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euno11a · 8 months

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Tattooed Hearts VI

Genre: No one to someone Tattoo artist! Jungkook X Reader

Summary: What happened to us? Why did we end up like this? It was only a one time thing. Now it’s ruined us both.

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, mentions of hookups, insults, arguing, blood, mentions of period, insecurities

Pt I • Pt II • Pt III • Pt IV • Pt V *** “Please, god, leave me alone!” You shouted at Jungkook for what seemed to be for the hundredth time. “No, no! I want you to tell me! What did you mean when you mentioned ‘the other woman?’ What woman are you talking about? And why the hell do you care?” He yelled back, chasing after you down the sidewalk, people were definitely looking and probably judging. “Why can’t you drop it, Jungkook?! I was tired and I rambled, something you’re used to!” Yelling at him the other day when you weren’t thinking straight was definitely the wrong choice. Look at you now! You’re literally running away from him. “Because it’s not every day you hear the girl you slept with yell at you for sleeping with another woman!” You stopped, making him almost run into you. You grabbed him by the arm and pulled him aside, a deathly glare on your face. “Keep your damn voice down. I don’t need the whole of Main Street knowing we slept together, which might I add was a huge mistake!” Jungkook scoffed, leaning in close, “You begged for it, night after night. Not my fault you were drunk on my dick.” He spat back, not knowing how childish both of you were being. You groaned, wanting to strangle him right then and there. “Listen, I was sleep deprived and running off of coffee. I spoke out of line, so just forget it.” You walked off, being stopped when he grabbed your waist, pulling you in close. “Knowing you, you wouldn’t mention something if it wasn’t on your mind. So would you just fucking tell me what ‘other woman’ you’re talking about?” Jungkook kept a tight grip on your waist, not letting you budge. You sighed, feeling defeated you reluctantly told him. “The woman you fuck in the tattoo parlour. The one I walked in on you fucking in the break room. That woman.” He froze, tilting his head a little “Are you serious? God, you’re jealous of Cathy, Y/N? Holy crap, get a grip! And when the hell did you walk in on us?” His grip on you loosened, allowing you to pull away from him. “None of your business. Anyways, now you know, so please leave me the hell alone!” You began walking away again. Leaving Jungkook standing dumbfounded beside some bookstore. You got a mere five feet away before you were being grabbed again, “She’s not my girlfriend.” *** It had been three days since Jungkook told you that. But why had he told you that? Did he feel obligated to do so? Did he pity you? So many questions that would never be answered. Your phone rang, an unknown number appearing on the screen. You: Hello? Unkwn : Hey, I didn’t think you’d pick up. You: I’m sorry, what? I don’t even know you. Unkwn: Y/N, come on, I’m not that unforgettable. You paused, thinking for a moment…holy fucking Christ! You: Jungkook, how the hell do you have my number? JK: I’ve got my ways, I’m magic in other ways too, you know. You: I never thought you were magic before. JK: That’s a lie and you know it, the amount of time I’ve made you cum with my magical fin- You: Okay! Jesus, what do you want? JK: I want to talk, duh. You: Lies. Bye then. JK: No! Wait! Don’t hang up…please… You: Why shouldn’t I? JK: Because I want to talk to you. You: Well I don’t want to talk to you, so goodbye. You hung up the phone, throwing it beside you. What the hell was happening now? Why did he want to talk with you all of a sudden? You looked over to the bouquet that was still sitting on your counter, noticing something you hadn’t before. Signs of purple were poking out from the corners of the bouquet, making you stand up to see them closer. Taking out your phone, you took a picture of it, grabbing your jacket and running out your door. Hopefully Ms Eloise was in shop today. *** ”That would be a betony, darling. It symbolizes surprise…why do you ask?” Ms Eloise asked, handing you your phone back. You took your phone back, swallowing a lump in your throat, “I just noticed it in the bouquet…and it’s odd, the flowers somehow remind me of something…but I can’t figure out what.”

Ms Eloise smiled, grabbing your hand, “It’s okay to think about him, sweetheart. It’s understandable that you would.” She thought you were thinking of Jungkook…no, she knew you were thinking of him. Oh my god, you were thinking of him! After chatting for a while, you walked out of the flower shop, slowly making your way down Main Street, to your favourite bar. You sat down in a small booth, sipping your rum and coke. Dazed, you didn’t notice Jungkook who’d shown up a few minutes earlier. “You know, it’s rude to hang up on people.” He said as he sat across from you in the booth. Looking you up and down, seemingly checking you out. You made eye contact with him, bitterly laughing, “It’s also rude getting someone’s number without them knowing and then calling them randomly.” Your comment made him chuckle, fidgeting with the rings on his fingers. Those fingers that had been in you once…stop it! “I wasn’t trying to be rude, I just wanted to say hi.” “You never want to ‘just say hi.’ So what do you want, Jungkook? I’d rather you just spit it out so I don’t have to play guessing games with you. Also so I can preferably drink alone.” “I want you.” The comment made you choke on your sip of rum and coke, coughing into your elbow. You looked at him bewildered, “Excuse me?!” “Come on, Y/N, you heard what I said. I want you.” He said it again! And so nonchalantly as well. “Uh, no.” “Why not?” “Because I said so.” “That’s not an answer, Y/N.”

“Yes it is.” He scoffs, leaning back in the booth, staring at you. His tongue prods at the inside of his cheek, was it just you or did the room just get extremely hot? He leaned forward, lowering his voice so only you could hear him. “Listen, I don’t know what the hell happened between us, all I know is that I can’t get you off of my damn mind. I can’t think or sleep, I can only think of you.” “…you should become a poet.” Why was that the only damn thing you said?! How stupid are you??? “Why should I even let you try to pursue me? You walk around fucking everything and anything that gets your dick wet. I can’t fucking trust you.” “I know, I know you can’t. What can I do to prove that I actually want you? That you’re not just a fuck and leave?” He sounded desperate…sincere almost. You thought for a moment, taking a sip of your drink, placing it down on the table. “If you want me…like genuinely want me, you have to beg for it.” He looked at you, dead in the eyes, nothing about him seemed in a joking manner. “I’ll beg as much as you want me to, baby. As long as I get you in return.” Taglist: @talyaaas-blog @cassies-cookies

@junecat18 @jk97bam @bluewarmsunshine

#bts #bts army #bangtan #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader

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shotmrmiller · 9 months

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fwb! ghost brainrot ive officially decided its gotta turn into ghoap x reader or im gonna eat my flextape. hopefully i can connect this one to the first one. team fix your plotholes or else, perra.

Fwb! Simon who just turned exclusive doesn’t want anyone to know about the two of you. Can’t say it doesn’t sting but as he said, you asked for a fuck, not a boyfriend. You understand because you aren’t sure Johnny would take too kindly to his best friend being disrespected in bed by someone he knows is a bonafide manwhore.

So when Johnny pulls a pretty woman at the bar y'all are in, he also brings her friend for Simon, and that makes you prickle with jealousy. With a huff, you turn to face the crowd— away from the bitch putting her manicured hands on Simon. You’d like to believe that he is reciprocating her attention because if he doesn’t, Johnny would find it suspicious. But the way he wraps his arm around her waist, flirting back so effortlessly, reminds you of his ways. Of how he is.

Simon isn’t stupid. He wasn’t a part of the elite force Johnny’s in only because of his brawn. He was also brain. And that infuriates you. Talking to Simon is like dealing with a fucking genie. Better be specific to the minute detail or anything that’s left to assumption is free game.

Grabbing Johnny’s forearm to get his attention, he doesn’t look at you— too busy sweet-talking his next conquest, so you dig your nails into his skin. You see him wince and pull away roughly to sneer at the offender, but then his features smooth out instantly, once he realizes it’s you. Ice-blue eyes slightly unfocused from the alcohol in his system, yet it feels like all he can see is you. His reaction makes your heart skip a beat, how quickly he ignores everything around him— puts everything on the backburner if you need something from him. You can't help the pleased smile that curls your lips at the realization.

“Hey, Johnny boy. I’ma go pay the tab,” and then you flick your eyes to the woman, “ do not leave without me.”

“Dinnae worry, hen, as if I’d ever leave ye anywhere.” Your smile turns gloriously smug when you see the woman look at you in undisguised contempt. Blessed be Johnny, always in your corner. With another squeeze to his forearm, you chuckle when you hear a “Claws in, kitten!” and move to get up when you notice Simon no longer flirting with miss thing, but intently looking at Johnny’s forearm, which still has the half-moon marks of your nails on it. His gaze then snaps to yours, with an almost knowing glint behind them.

You roll your eyes and briskly walk to the bartender, flagging him down. When the bartender gives you the receipt to sign, a voice asks if he can buy you a drink. Sighing, you turn around to tell whoever that you aren’t interested.

“Incredibly generous, but—” and freeze. “Long time no see, eh?”

It’s your ex. You ended things amicably enough— surprising, for him having been your first boyfriend, first everything, really. Y’all just outgrew each other emotionally. Hugging him, you exclaim, “Jesus Christ, how’ve you been! It’s been far too long. What’re you doin’ here?”

He responds, “I was just in town and figured I could get a drink, maybe some company,” you don’t miss the implication of that, but choose to ignore it.

“How’s that goin’ for ya?”, and then he reaches out to grab your wrist and runs his thumb over your knuckles. “I’ve got you now, don’t I? You look fantastic.” You’re about to let him down lightly when your hand is snatched out of his, and you’re forcibly pulled against someone, strong arm over your shoulders.

“Whatever ye wan’ with her, the answer is naw. ” Johnny. You smother the slight pang of disappointment in your chest, how silly of you to think it could’ve been Simon.

“Forever the guard dog, eh, John?” and Johnny’s arm tightens almost painfully and snarls.

“Still around, are ye? Just like a roach, boy.” Johnny and your ex never got along— always a pissing contest. You have an inkling that it’s because of how close you two were and still are.

Your ex scoffs loudly at him, then looks at you. “It’s your choice, unless you’ve got a boyfriend?” and you shake your head. Johnny pulls you to stand in front of him, both arms holding you close.

“She doesnae. No one’s good enough fer her. Including ye.”

Sucking your teeth, you sink your nails into Johnny’s forearm, again. “I think that’s for me to decide, no?” and pull at his arms to release you. “You’ve got some nerve, Johnny, bringing me here just to watch you and Ghost—” when you’re roughly pulled to the side, held down by a much larger body. Simon. Your heart hammers in your chest. How long has he been standing here?

He lowers his mouth to your ear and sternly says, “Behave, pet. The sergeant said no. End of story.”

When he uses that voice, all you can do is obey.

“And who’re you?” You can feel Simon stand to his full height, broad shoulders straightening, posturing. Even slouched, he towered over your ex but standing like this, exuding strength and authority, it’s almost comical how large of a difference there is between them two— especially with you in his arms.

“I’m guard dog number two,” and your ex pales slightly. “I’d fuck off,” and Simon points towards the exit with his head, “Now.” He stiffens for a second, eyes bouncing between Johnny and Simon, and bolted—like prey after detecting predators. Not even a goodbye. You don't know if to applaud his sense of self-preservation or curse his cowardice.

Johnny grabs your hand and leads you out the door, slinging his arm over you as y’all walk towards his home.

“Yer not mad, are ye?” and you keep quiet, he has always hated the silent treatment. “Bonnie—” and Simon cuts him off.

“Who was that?” and Johnny looks back to answer. “Her ex-boyfriend. Very first one, wasn’t he, hen?” You dig your elbow into his ribcage and hiss out, “Johnny, you dolt! There is no need for you to be sharing that!”

He laughs and brings your head in to kiss your temple. “I’m jus’ sayin’! Hen, no one out here is worth yer time. Ye cannae be mad at me for speakin’ the truth.” Exhaling, you curl your arm around his waist, going under his shirt to squeeze his waist.

“Yeah, yeah. Guess I’ll just have to fill the void with you,” and Johnny swiftly continues your sentence. “And Ghost.”

Absentmindedly, you nod. “And Ghost.”

Had you been paying attention, you would’ve seen the way he and Ghost shared a calculated look before Johnny pressed another kiss a little closer to your mouth.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 27 days

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hello op, ive been thinking abt that ask someone sent thatw as like. very 2014 era tumblr saying u were someone they'd find in an alley offering them blankets and warm hugs ever since u got it, bc JESUS CHRIST. most psychological horror thing I've ever seen. like fandom-brained parasocial relationship to a. Tumblr blogger. and then the person who made an attempt at an opposite assumption to that.

its so crazy to me and so like. capital i Ick gross. i wanted to provide a less. personal. assumption. or more intepretation of ur character. (bear w me)

i feel like ur kind of like a sex worker, in that ur work (on here) is often very personal to ppl and can be hugely meaningful to them, but often for you is just another days work. so sometimes ppl are weird with you abt it or expect you to act like its Not work, and sometimes ppl give compliments abt it that are meaningful to u, but still you have ur own life thats completely seperate to anything we know of u.

idk a comparison that came to my mind after watching verily bitchies video essay on good luck to you leo grande

i hope u having an alright one, and dont have anymore people fanonising you :)

or, hear me out, what if we all stopped coming up with metaphors and similes and comparisons to interpret my character and ascribe meaning to me and just treat me like a person instead of English homework

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kittyamore0 · 2 years

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Hi this is my first time requesting something😭 I was wondering if u could write a Dom Brahms smut x sub female reader? (I love your writing btw)

-🌹

Our first time

Thank you!

Summary: Not much, just you and Brahms </3

Little note: sorry for the delay, ive been on and off with this one-shot, but now its finally ready!

genre: NSFW one-shot

Fandom: Horror

Character: Brahms Heelshire

Cw: Female! Sub! reader, Dom! Brahms, table sex, overstimulation, unprotected sex, breeding kink, p in v, doggy style sex position, Brahms ruining you, blind fold usage, lost of virginity, slight begging kink, fingering, Lactation kink, dumbification kink, slight sadistic Brahms...just sex.

He stared attentively at you through that slightly, polished, cracked porcelain doll mask. You were currently washing the dishes and getting dinner ready with loud music playing.

You were unaware of his presence, due to how loud the music played. You stood there, swaying your hips to the beat, as he stood in the door way and his eyes roam up and down your body

It made him feel warm, hot even. His breathing becoming more uneven. His heart rapidly slamming against his chest.

You turned around to place the wet dish back into its holder. You yelped and jumped backwards when your eyes landed on Brahms first rather than the dish rack. "Jesus Christ! You scared me Brahms!"

His head cocked to the left of him and he mumbled out a quick 'sorry' You placed a hand over your heart and put the plate in the dish rack. "Is there something you need, Brahms?" He stopped for a minute, looking like he wanted to say something, but didn't when he slowly shook his head.

You raised a brow at his actions. "Alright then.." You went back to scrubbing the dishes, careful not to get the water further than your purple gloves.

Brahms legs unconsciously move towards your enticing figure. His arms wrapping around your waist the moment he gets close enough to.

"Brahms?" He hummed in your hair. The way his name left your lips in a soft whisper made him feel uneven. The way you were up against him, your curves aligning with his...It was like a puzzle piece.

You and him were made for each other, and that was all he could think about.

What if...you and him did those kinds of intimate things he would see in books?

Oh, those pretty noises that would come out of your swollen lips. Your soft begs for him to keep going or maybe even to stop.

"Brahmsies, is everything okay?" He nodded, but you didn't believe him. You turned around, his arms slipping loose.

You were just in front of the dinning table before his arms slipped around you again, the grip even more tighter than before.

"Stay." You shuddered at his unmasked voice. It wasn't as childish as it usually would be, it was much more deeper and low now. "It hurts..." His whine made you panic slightly. Did he hurt himself? what happened?

"Brahmsies, did you hurt yourself? where does it hurt?" He just looked down, a bit embarrassed.

You sighed and stared into his dilated eyes. "Kiss," ah, his child voice was back. "It hurts with the mask on, Brahms." His grip had gotten tighter, making you let out a soft gasp.

He let out a scowl. "Stay here." You meekly nodded and he harshly ran past you. The air blowing on the side of your shoulder.

The music had stopped playing, sending shivers down your spine, only hearing the echoing silence of the Heelshire manor.

A few minutes passed and you heard the squeaks and squeals of the hard, wooden floors.

You felt his body behind yours and suddenly, your vision went black, covered by a soft fabric. "B-Brahms?"

He placed his index finger over your soft lips. You could hear a 'click' and then you heard him place that glassy, polished mask down.

A harsh grip on your chin made your head turn to your right in a swift movement.

You felt chapped, peeled lips on yours. A mix of soft and warm with peeled, cold lips.

The kiss was eager and hungry, but gentle and sincere at the same time.

His head tilted, to aline his flawed lips with your perfect ones. You felt his teeth tug at your bottom lips, as if asking for access.

You sighed into his lips and kept your lips agape for his tongue to slip in, and it did.

His tongue slid at the roof of your mouth, keeping yours trapped and pushed back.

Your lips grew swollen and your lungs begged for some air. Eventually, you broke the kiss in a haze.

"Pretty [Name...]" He murmured against your lips. Your throat was dry, despite the kissing. You stammered your words, unable to form a clear sentence. You could not take compliments.

"O-oh, um--" it didn't help either when you felt his lips hover over your tender neck. You felt his teeth get a slight grip on your neck.

You shuddered, feeling Brahms lips twitch into a smile at your reaction.

A breathless moan escaped your lips when his teeth had sunk into your warm skin, his tongue grazing against your irritated skin.

Your body had felt warm and felt warmer by the second. "Brahms..." He had never really paid attention to why or how you said his name, but now? Now was different. He loved how his name rolled off your tongue, along with a whine. It enticed him, making his heart filled with a certain...need.

Dark hues formed on your neck. A way for you and others to know that you belong to him and only him.

The thought of more marks covering your bare body in other places made his cock throb.

His right hand traveled up your body and one of his fingers held onto the bra strap. His left hand traveled down and hooked around the hem of your panties. "please...please, please, please..." He mutters, his pleas causing your heart to beat faster, as if it were about to burst.

You had never gotten very intimate with your past partners, leaving you a virgin, since you figured they weren't the right ones. But with Brahms, it was...different.

You weakly nodded. His breath hitched in his throat. He wasn't too experienced himself when it came to sexual pleasure, but he had read about it, and he was willing to try and do whatever it takes to make you feel good.

He slipped his fingers in the soft fabric, pushing it down and away slightly. His digits grazed over your soaking cunt. Your mouth hangs open when his right hand kneads your breast. His forefinger and thumb working together on pinching your hardened nipple.

Your legs twitched and your hips jolted when he drew soft, slow circles into your clit. "Brahms--" Before you could finish your sentence, Brahms pushed one of his fingers inside your beating entrance. A loud mewl spilling from your quivering lips. Your walls stretching, trying to adjust the new feeling.

He sighed at the feeling of you clenching around his finger, and that only made him wonder, what would happen if he added more?

With barely enough time to react, hes slipped two more of his rough, dry fingers into you. "oh, fuck!--" Your hips buckled down for more friction.

His fingers pumped in and out of you, curling for just a second, which really felt like more than a second, to hit your G-spot.

Your mind clouded with the touch of Brahms fingers, which was currently used to fuck you. Your pre-cum coating his rather tall, rough, vein-y fingers.

Your nails could break from how hard they dug into the marble table. His relentless pumping only drove faster. "So, so warm..." He pushed his palm further into your sex. He loved the feeling of your wet, warm puffed out cunt against his hands. Every noise you make, every whine, whimper, moan, mewl, cry, okay, you get the point. It drove him crazy. He wanted to hear more and more than before, many more. His cock oozing with pre-cum with every noise that came out of your swollen lips. Unconsciously, he began to grind against you. His clothed tip almost hitting your clit.

He wanted to be inside of you, like how those books would describe when things got intimate between the Male and Female.

The thought of it made his finger drive faster into you. "W--wait, t--too much!--- " Your throat involved a gag when his right hand fingers were shoved down your throat, taking them in a chocked manner.

You barely had any time to react to his lewd actions, as he didn't care to be gentle with you anymore. Tears pricked into your eyes, the soft, black blind fold quick to absorb your warm, salty tears.

Your desperate cries for him to slow down were muffled, the words not getting too far away from his now vibrating fingers. "So pretty..." He shoved his fingers deeper into your throat, hitting your gag reflex many times. "Bra--hghn...I---can't!--" A low chuckle erupted from his throat and his teeth drove straight into your beaten up neck. "Plea--ah!--s--slow down...s'too much...! can't--can't!-- " Your teeth gripped onto your lower lip. The way your teeth molded into your lower lip harshly had enough power to break the delicate skin and draw blood.

"More...More!" He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. More whines spew out of your mouth. Your uncomprehended babbles continued on and on. Your walls tightened around his fingers. An unfamiliar knot building up in your lower abdomen. The feeling even edges him on. His pants being ruined and coated with his pre-cum.

"I--hah!--gonna--gonna!--" You loudly gasp, feeling the knot untie itself. You let out a whine and press your forehead against the marble table. His fingers help you ride out your high, coaxing it in your cum.

His finger exits out of your entrance and he brings them up to his mouth, sucking his cum-layered finger. Every covered finger with slide in and out with a pop.

His tongue swirled in his mouth, savoring your sweet taste. Oh, how he just could imagine how many more times hes about to make you cum, whimper, wine, moan, cry, beg and so much more. He wants all of it. It has to be you, and only you.

Your upper body heaved up and down. Brahms eyes glued onto your breast. His head dipped down and leveled with your chest. His mouth took one of your nipples in, his tongue swirling around the erratic nipple.

You whined and laid against him, too tired to do or say anything. He placed a few kisses on it. It made him feel nursed, but instead he's taking control.

Your stomach turned and twisted when he let his imperfect lips trail down your stomach. His hand was removed from your mouth, and you heard the flyer to his pants zip down. "W--wait!--" Your plea was cut off with his scowl. You were still recovering from your sweet release, but that only made him go further. If you had cum once already, why not another time? He was already craving to see his cock slamming in and out of you cruelly, his cum filling you up till' it dripped down your perfect body and onto your plush thighs.

He ignored your cries and gripped both his jeans and boxers down. Even more tears formed into your eyes, trying to tell him to give you a minute to process everything and calm down. His cock roamed free out of those suffocating jeans. Hes thick and throbbing with pre-cum, but not like you can see that.

The thought of him entering inside you while you wore a dark blindfold made you shiver, and as if he had read your thoughts, you felt his needy cock forcing its way through your wet, slick folds, finding its way inside your cunt.

The slow pain was all you could focus on, as Brahms was stretching you out quite a bit too much. "Ah!--Fuck, fuck!--mfmg!--" You grunted. Your sex trying to adjust Brahms, and there was much more to go.

Brahms breathing became ragged, hitched and inhumanly fast. "Tight, you're so...tight!--" He shudders, thinking about the way you wrapped around him. oh, you just felt too good.

"So--t--tight--" He whimpered, his focus all on you. The feeling was new to the both of you, which made the pain unbearable.

You felt yourself being stretched even more than what had seemed possible. The pain slowly turns into still, unbearable pleasure. Brahms lets out a shuddered moan when you've taken him whole. His hips jolted forward, each second mercilessly pounding into you. Countless mewls come out of your lips. The inhumane speed of his thrust fastens your panting, enough that hes fucking you dumb at this point.

"You...li--like this?" You sniffled, trying to respond with a mind clouded with pleasure. "Ngn...y--ah!--" You began babbling out nonsense. Your walls tighten around his length.

His unused hand gripped your jaw, turning your face towards his. His head cocked to the side. The sight of your teeth jabbing at your lower lip, your furrowed brows, you looked so...vulnerable, and he liked the sight of that. He liked the sight of you submitting to him, like you should, like you were meant to.

You whine as a familiar sensation builds up once again, in your core. The same knot that tied in your lower abdomen earlier. "cu-cumming, cumming!--" His hips collided with yours, going even more faster. You squeeze yourself around Brahms cock, his quite huge member going in and out as it pleases.

"Cum-cum for me!--" Brahms groaned, stuffing his face into your hair. On command, you let yourself come undone. Your cum covering his cock. He stops his fast pace and goes slow, wanting to remember this moment. Your expression when you came, your cum covering him.

He places a soft, tender kiss on your temple, before proceeding to his rough pace. "Bra--hms!, no--no more, ple--ase! Can't...Can't--No...more!--" Your begging only enticed him to keep going, he like how your tears stained the blind fold, even rolling down past the blindfold. Your pleas made it harder for him to stop.

Not only that, but you had cum twice already. It should be his turn now, and he's going to make sure he's gotten to feel what you had felt, his release. His cum filling you up. That's what he wanted.

He smiles as he continues slamming himself in and out of you, sending you into overstimulation. You laid your head against the marble table once again, letting your chocked sobs take over your words.

His lower abdomen twisted and turned, feeling a harsh but pleasant upcoming tension that begged to be taken care of. He dug his mouth in your neck, biting the skin, once again. You cried out when he had bitten you roughly, the pain hurting more than those shots you get at the doctors. "Almo-almost...there!--" His cock twitched inside of you, as he let himself unravel inside you. His cum painting your tired walls.

His cum dripping down your cunt, and onto your thigh. He stared down and admired the sight. He whined when he slowly removed himself from you, already wanting to continue being in you.

You sighed, and allowed yourself to catch a breath. Then, your body was being picked up from the waist. You were turned around and seated down on the cold table.

Brahms placed his head to your slightly-exposed chest, while his hands remained on your hips. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his forehead tenderly.

You let out a pleased hum, before closing your eyes and resting your head against his.

#brahms heelsire x reader #brahms my beloved #brahms x reader #brahms smut #brahms the boy #brahms headcanons #brahms heelshire #the boy 2016 #brahms the doll #female reader #horror smut #sub reader

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jacedified · 2 months

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things i cant stop thinking about !!

most of this is going to imperium related so enjoy my brain turning mwah

also pls ignore my mid sentence rambling i have a serious problem

warnings: gore/mentions of death , violence , imperium , swearing :D , adult with internet access cant shut up

- yandere caller being a shade

(someone said this on a hc list and now im actively running with it)

- sams eyes being brown

(as a brown eye haver i know he misses them dearly and i wnna give him the worlds sweetest biggest longest hug)

- the idea of gavin “slicing” peoples threads for kody in imperium

(forcing my husband ((i need therapy im married to a fictional incubus)) to do such acts simply because you want to you sick freak ILL FUCKING KILL U- oh wait gavin already did xoxo kiss my ass from hell kody)

- the look on kodys face at the end of it all

(as previously stated i wanted that man dead.. i just wanna make sure hes actually gone yknow)

- what asher’s smile looked like when him and david were together (imperium)

(knowing that david was gone, hearing the random audience member asking for david to be alive and left alone in the first imperium video, knowing they were mates, knowing how heartbroken asher was after his death i just wanna see them happy maann ((it feels criminal to use emojis on tumblr)) 😭😭)

- if lasko calling freelancer “my dear” when you first met him in the haven was a sneak peek for his later ((is the word prime for like normal redacted universe characters i can’t remember, like prime lasko yada yada)) listeners name

- if no one was watching gavin WOULD HE HAD BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF IMP!HUXLEY???

(the amount of shit talking hux did when freelancer and gavin first get to the haven had me ready to fight in an instant ((it mightve just been my overwhelming adoration for gavin but still)) like he was acting like an annoying jock who gets a job as security for some fuck ass rich university and thinks hes on top of the world like dont piss me off huxley or damien gets it in the other universe so help me god)

- is anyone else as attracted to the tension between vincent and asher in imperium as i am..

(i have no words for how “yippee kicking my feet happy smiley kiss now kiss now what if u kissed rn” i was when asher and vincent are talking but also i feel like pet ((is that vincents listeners name or vegas I CANT REMEMBER PLS)) was behind a door listening in and getting jealous bc “that should be me holding your hand..”

… excuse the outburst)

- vampire milo.. thats all

(GAWD hes so hot like he always is and always has been but jesus FUCKING christ theres something about him having been a vamp did something to me that i cant even explain)

- what was avior saying to lasko to make him irritated with him..

(i mean yeah hes a yapper but i feel like it was just “hey we need help down here” and lasko rolling his eyes and waiting two weeks before actually doing anything)

- WHERE TF IS ELLIOT WHERE TF IS SUNSHINE CAN I BEAT BLAKES ASS??

- what would have happened had milo not broken the ward

(again someone else mentioned this ((i would tag them but it was 6hrs ago and i was just scrolling and reading)) and now i cant stop thinking about it)

- what is avior hearing in his last video

(its been a while since ive actually listened to aviors playlist again but there was a voice or sounds he was hearing after getting out of the meridian and its just been on my mind)

- gavin having a myspace account

(he would love myspace i just know he would and i feel like he’d be an avid tumblr user but like its just him posting his favorite pics of himself from the week and updates on whatever small pet him and freelancer would very obviously inevitably get bc he saw it in a pet store or on the street and couldnt resist)

- what happens when freelancer gets old..

(freelancer is just that.. a freelancer. they arent a vamp, or a demon, or even some secret third thing.. what happens to them and gav when they get old. have they had that talk yet? i shouldnt think about this bc it makes me spiral into a bucket of tears and sadness bc its the same thing with sam and darlin’ like we wont know what theyll do when their partners get old and they are still young and immortal.. sigh 😔)

- can i cut the meridian open with a knife if i tried?

(how thin is the meridian? how easy is it to access? how long would it take me to literally stab it open? ((i have serious issues)) )

- imp!damien..

(yea i have a crush on him or whatever nothing crazy)

- is the person asher catches in imperium baabe or is it just random listener #18683 ?

(obviously my first thought when i listened to imperium like a year ago i thought baabe nd asher would be together ((i was delusional and on an asher high)) but then when it was revealed that he and david were mates in that universe did that mean baabe just doesnt exist or are they the person that gets caught by him or again some secret third thing)

- what happens to angel in the mess that is imperium, honestly what happens to all the shaw pack listeners

(obviously sweetheart is left out of this equation bc them and milo are still happily obsessed with each other in every universe BUT angel, baabe, and darlin where yall at??)

- WHERE ARE THE AND WHAT HAPPENED TO THE EMPATHY DEMONS IN IMPERIUM UNIVERSE??

(this just popped into my mind but WHERE IS MY SON?? what have u done with my son WHERE IS MY SON??!!?)

- is anyone else as obsessed with just erik and his mind?

(that handsome blessing to my youtuber universe.. i could listen to him babble for hours and will do so bc it feeds my “listening to nerdy man babble on abt his fixations” quota)

- what imperium versions of characters do people prefer over their counterparts

(personally i prefer imp! huxley, damien, and vincent over their prime versions ((still dont know if im using the term prime in the right context)) idk what it is but well i know what it is for huxley and damien but we dont need to get into why i dont like hux and dames rn :D but for vincent i just like seeing a different version of him i think.. hes so confident with his decisions, and knows what he wants in imperium i just want that for regular vince too.. sigh)

uhh anyways.. i think thats enough thinking for now, going back to sleep

stay safe out there

#redacted audio #redacted sweetheart #redactedverse #redacted vincent #redacted asher #redacted david #redacted headcanons #redacted sam #redacted milo #redacted #redacted lovely #redacted asmr #i cant wrap my tiny little brain around all the information i just processed

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itscontinental · 18 days

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VILE: WET again, appologies, no scannner, no more. A clear transcription of text can be found at the bottom, beneath the the paragraph of exhausting excuse and exposition below; If it is not apparent already: we are quite embarrassed with all the VILE. This is the only piece of the VILE series that was ever subject to change. As progenitor to the series, our rule of ceaseless movement was merely applied on a whim to the first iteration of "WET" and we did not follow it with intentional adherence. So the two subsequent versions pictured here are technically the first official additions to the "VILE" series as they were the first to be produced without a moments pause whatsoever. This being said, these were only an exercise at the time, we did not know that we would experience a continuous compulsion to pump these pieces of shit out one after another. We still find it funny to reference them as a series considering they are some of the worst things we have ever written, but there are so many, and in sharing them with you, we are forced to read them ourselves for once and thus access all the introspective bullshit that people claim can be gleaned within strict, unwavering, stream-of-consciousness writing. As we were getting wet, getting violent and vile, the "series" was yet to exist we don't like its existence. It just is as we are just yours Even our most vile parts especially the VILE:

For visual clarity, we will transcribe the text below. We will fill in gaps of missing letters and correct some spelling errors severe enough to make a word unclear. other than this, no edits will be made.

VILE: WET (Small/duplication) everything about this city is wet, the arid summer made up in sweat; it is deafening:dumb I cannot hear over the water fountains and sweat and the ponds that they made there full of viscous liquid making me sick making me violent and vile. and when i dream i am hanged and exsanguinated (THIRD) and being left and turning and being salting and turning to jerky and as i awake i am wet, releasing wet into wet and bathing in all that wet lest the wet become putrid, walking in my soggy shoes and glistening in oil-- polished as a doorknob: Confessions of a Shoe-in; I am so fucking wet. VILE: WET (extension)

remaining there you there with him in his robes sink into the eb and flow of the sink and this city is soaked everything in the city wet, the arid summer made up in sweat; it is deafening--dumb: i cannot hear over the water fountains and the fountains making mechanincal and the ponds they installed there full of viscous liquid making sick making me violent and vile and when i sleep i dream of insanguination, being hanged and insanguinated, being left and turning, salted and turning to jerky and i awake and am sweating through the bedsheets and it stings and i hope its sweat because it stings and itches and expires sooner so sooner than jerky would by many although i do not know if it spoils when the meat is wet, my meat is wet in the middle and the out place, perspiring from the outplace and the outside where the wet falls and reminds you that the clouds are mist and that you cannot grasp or walk on or touch or grasp like lumps of of cotton but rather would soak you and will and does upon my forehead from out and out and inside burning wet and boiling like the sacrament like i once beleived in jesus christ and ive been soaking and sick and baptised and so sick, sad i think maybe but soaking all the time since he told me we no longer have anything in common but i can keep the water the sacrament whatever id like, my share, and it is wet and i am wet releasing wet into the steam heat of this vast and vile machine and bathing in all the piping and wet lest the sweat become rancid, putrid in the city wet and walking in my soggy shoes and glistening in oil, polished as a doorknob: confessions of a shoe-in showing signs and everyone cold and soaking and and cold and mostly showing regret shewn portraits damaged in the moisture of my storage in the attic where it rises and settled to douse my portrait and anoint it anointed forever in the eyes you no longer have anything to talk about nor in common save the rain, the sun&sweat and see you and see you and coughing black that only may be blood and beginning to forget. Other "VILE" pages linked below: IN LOVE

DRY

DARK

BRIGHT There are more many more somewhere in THE STACK we will post them as they present themselves although, they are not entirely In tact

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the-hopeless-haze · 2 years

Text

When Will the Clouds All Disappear? (ch1)

Gregory House x Reader - part of Series If You Want It, You Can Bleed on Me

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: heavy suicidal ideation

“Kind of rude to make a cripple head to the roof of a building to look for you.” You hear his voice, loud and clear behind you, gravelly and distinctly masculine. You’d know it was him anywhere.

“What do you want, Greg?” You ask, sniffling. You're sitting on the ground, your back against the ledge, having made yourself sick staring off it for a good ten minutes before he arrived. Your head is in your hands, blocking him out, blocking everything out. You can’t open your eyes. You can’t bring yourself to look at him.

“You know,” he says firmly. You wish you had four hands so you could block your ears, too. You wish you were senseless. It would be so much easier. So much more peaceful.

“You wouldn’t have to worry anymore. I would just be gone,” you say, and you hate this, you hate everything, you wish he didn’t come up here so you could jump. Guilt-free. You know you look fucking ridiculous, with your hospital gown riding up to your thighs and those stupid non-slip socks damn near falling off your feet. Your hair is blowing wildly in the bitter January wind, and you feel lightheaded and woozy as it is, having pulled out your IV that hooked you up to fluids a half hour ago now.

“That isn’t what I want. I want you to come back downstairs with me.”

“How did you even know I was up here?” you question.

“You’re the one thing I can and can’t predict. Knew you’d come up here when they said you left the bed… still don’t know if anything I can say can get through to you. If you jump I jump?”

You shake your head. “No. You deserve to live.”

“And you don’t think you do?”

“No. And I don’t want to either.”

“Why not? I thought we had fun together.”“But you don’t care—“

“Why am I up here with you freezing my ass off if I don’t care?”

“Just go.”

“Not without you, sweetheart.”

You grimace at the pet name, it sounds so fake coming from his lips. “You didn’t even come to see me,” you whisper.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t know… I didn’t know what to say.”“Anything would’ve been better than nothing.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. You’ll say anything so I don’t jump,” you say, tasting bitterness acrid on your tongue. You wish you could turn off your brain, but you’ve been here before, seconds to an attempt and still gone through with it with no one to stop you except for your diseased brain. And it was diseased, every impulse usually hardwired to keep your body alive at all costs screaming to be let out of its misery and to just let you die, please. It’s almost like an addiction, instead of one more hit, it’s just like, one more thing to let go of. One more thing to convince yourself doesn’t matter, one more person to convince yourself wants you to die or doesn’t care if you go, one more event you’ll never get to live through that you convince yourself you didn’t want to attend anyway.

“I mean it,” he says urgently. “I’m sorry. Okay? I’ve been a shitty boyfriend, lover, friend with benefits, or whatever you want to call me. I know I’m not the reason you’re contemplating this right now. You’ve struggled with this all your life. I’m not going to fix it. But Jesus Christ. You and I both know this isn’t the goddamn answer. You spent your whole life going to school and working to prevent people from offing themselves.”

“Fuck you,” you mutter. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you,” he says. “I came for the surgery—“

“You had plenty of time to see me. You weren’t there when I needed you to be! I’m just another patient, is that it? Don’t come visit them unless you think you’ll learn something? What was it, you never got to see a D&C before? I called you, Greg. You never answered. I had to call Wilson to make sure you weren’t dead but of course, you weren’t, you were just avoiding me and why should I expect anything more from you? Of course you run when things get hard; when the woman you’ve been fucking might need a little more than after-sex cuddles.” You stand up as you say this, turning your back to him, looking over the ledge. Fuck.

“I’m sorry. Just please don’t jump,” he says and if you were in your right mind you’d notice that he was getting increasingly desperate, but you aren’t noticing much of anything right now. Except that your plans were thwarted. You see firefighters and they’ve already set up a trampoline on the side of the building. You don’t say anything, nothing at all, and you start to walk away from that ledge and then sprint toward the other one, hoping that you can get over there, run faster than he can, but he’s on you, and he moves fast for someone with an injured leg when the adrenaline kicks in, and you feel yourself knocked to the ground, his warm breath fanning your face.

“Got you. You’re not getting away from me that easy,” he says, and you finally look at him for the first time since you’ve been up here. You wish he would crush you to death but he’s barely putting his weight on you, just enough that you can’t move.

“I can’t go through this again,” you mutter, squeezing your eyes shut, and you expect the hysterical tears but they never come. You feel numb. Empty.

“You can. You can and you will.”

“You’re going to put me on a hold?”

“I have to,” he says, and you could trick yourself into thinking there’s guilt in his blue eyes when you open yours again. “I’ll make sure they give you the good stuff. Say you need to be chemically restrained. Order you Haldol, Ativan, or whatever you want. But I need… I need to know you’re safe.”

“So you’ll sedate me?”

“It’s the only way I’ll be able to sleep.”

“Just like you to make it about yourself, huh?”

“Shut up,” he says sternly, tacking your name on the end of the command like a warning. “This isn’t about me. None of this is about me. I know that.”

“Then you should have let me go.”

“One day you’ll thank me,” he says, digging his phone out of his jacket pocket. “Hey. Yeah. I need help bringing her downstairs. She’s not going to go willingly.”

You hate how he’s talking about you the way you would talk about patients to your coworkers, and you hate him for calling Wilson to help him walk you down the stairs. Wilson’s a certified sap, and the look on his face, his brown eyes sympathetic and his brows furrowed… makes you want to hit him, and maybe you’d try if you had the energy to. You don’t want pity. You want to be left to your own devices. You want nothing, hatred, you could stand, but Wilson looking at you like you were a kicked puppy is more than you can handle right now.

“I wasn’t going to jump,” you say, and it’s unconvincing even to your own ears. “I wasn’t even on the ledge when you came up here.”

“Yeah. Well. It’s enough that I don’t believe you,” Greg says. “Your track record sucks. Every attempt has been after a traumatic event. Forgive me for being a little worried.”

You’re about to protest, say he doesn’t know anything, but you know he went through your medical files before the first time your lips touched his. Fair enough. Two could play at that game, certainly, and you took what you felt you could without him getting suspicious out of your file. You looked through his, too, because what’s good for him is by all means fucking good for you too, and if you can’t have normal conversations like a normal couple, at least you could learn about each other unconventionally. Isn’t that love, at least kind of love, searching high and low for information, trying to memorize somebody else like you know yourself?

Never mind that it’s illegal.

You feel his mouth on yours, his scruff scratching pleasantly at your skin, and… yeah. That’s when the fucking tears come.

You wish neither of these men saw you like this. You were meant to be firm, cold but compassionate, distant but likable, albeit only from that distance. You didn’t get close to people, not since you were younger, because you knew how you’d get and you knew it was a horrific sight. Wilson, you love like a brother, but Gregory… you love irrevocably, irreverently, irreversibly. Intense is an understatement, and you wish it wasn’t the case, you wish so badly you could turn it off and become the woman you were before that man and his cane hobbled into your life. You wish more than anything you were alone right now.

But then again. You might not be alive.

“Shh. It’s okay,” he says, and you don’t believe him. He doesn’t believe it himself. It’s just something to say. And he hates those clichés. He hates talking just to talk. Yet … he says that to you. He lies to you, just for your benefit. Everybody lies.. but it's usually for their own gain. “I don’t want to make this worse than it has to be,” he says slowly. “Make this easy for us.”

“You have drugs on you, Greg,” you say, rolling your eyes through your tears. You hate that you know him this well. “You’re prepared to sedate me regardless.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t want to have to get to that point. Would you rather be sedated? Because I can arrange that.”

“Get off me.”

“Are you going to walk with us?”

“Yeah,” you huff.

“Good girl,” he says, and in a different context that would lead to something very different than this. But no. He lifts himself off you instead of dicking you down, wincing when he puts his weight back on his leg, and he and Wilson both help you off the concrete roof. It’s now you realize your back is scraped from when Greg pushed you down, and you grimace as you stand up. Everything hurts.

You have four strong hands on your body now, Wilson’s thin graceful fingers wrapping around your left arm, the other hand on the small of your back to steady you. Greg, you’re more fine with seeing you this way, he’s a train wreck himself and you’ve gotten him out of his shell before. But Wilson? He’s got everything together, well, except for his marriages. House’s larger hands grip you too, one hand firm on your right shoulder and the other around your side.

It’s a slow walk down the stairs, back into the building and you feel a rush of relief at the feeling of heat on your body, but then it becomes too much and you don’t know what you’re fighting for because you know there’s no way you could run, you may be faster than Greg but there’s no way you’d get by Wilson in your current state, and then you’re pushed against the wall in the staircase, Wilson’s calling for security on a radio and a gurney on the radio, and they’re both holding you there and you’re struggling against them, arms you try to push out of the way and legs you try to kick but it’s to no avail, you feel the slight pinch of a needle in your arm and … that’s it. Maybe this is what you were asking for but you were too ashamed to say, too ashamed to acquiesce verbally to the sedation, too embarrassed to say “no, I need to be unconscious for this, thank you.” But you weren’t too embarrassed to pull a fucking nutty in the staircase of the hospital you work at.

“I would’ve just given it to you,” you hear Greg say. “You don’t have to do everything the hard way.”

And then, thankfully, mercifully, pleasantly, you fade out and away.

#greg house x reader #gregory house x reader #house x reader #house md #hate crimes md #i love this tag #james wilson #gregory house

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